SS General by Sven Hassel Page A

sir." Porta jerked his head at Tiny. "Fetch 'em out and let the colonel have a gander at them."
    The prisoners were hauled into the open by Tiny and deposited in front of Hinka. A gaping lieutenant came forward to untie their hands.
    "Good God!" said Hinka. He stood staring at them, his eyes bulging from their sockets.
    Porta looked the prisoners up and down with an air of pride. He nodded approvingly. "They're the genuine thing, sir."
    Hinka passed a hand across his eyes. The strain of such prolonged staring was obviously beginning to tell. I found myself wondering if the man had actually ever seen a Russian before.
    Porta seemed also to be experiencing doubts. "Your real genuine native," he said earnestly. "Your real honest-to-good-ness . . ."
    "Yes, yes," said Hinka. He took a last look at the prisoners and dragged his eyes reluctantly away to look at Porta instead. "Tell me, Obergefreiter, are you aware of the rank of these men?"
    "They're your real genuine Russians," began Porta in a defensive bleat. He glared at the prisoners. "They had this bag of mail, sir. Our mail-- German mail! When we was in Torgau, that was a very serious offense, that was. Swiping mail. I mean, you could ..."
    "Obergefreiter!" Hinka thundered.
    Porta looked up at him in surprise. "Yes, sir?"
    "These--gentlemen--whom you have captured--you are obviously not aware that one is a lieutenant general and the other a colonel!"
    There was a moment's uneasy silence. I saw Porta's Adam's apple move slowly up his scrawny throat and bounce back again. As one in a dream, he turned on his heel and saluted.
    Tiny stood watching him with his mouth agape. He looked wonderingly at the prisoners--at the lieutenant general he had kicked in the shins, and the colonel he had punched in the stomach--and slowly he, too, saluted.
    As for me--well, I hadn't actually used physical violence on either of them. I hadn't actually abused them. I'd only tied their hands up and threatened to shoot them and shoved them about a bit ...
    Quietly, I sunk my neck into my shoulders and slipped away unnoticed.
     
    We swear to you, Adolf Hitler, that we shall keep faith.
    August Wilhelm, Prince of Prussia, 1933
    SS Obergruppenfuhrer Reinhard Heydrich, head of the RSHA,* stormed angrily through the corridors of No. 8 Prinz Albrecht Strasse, abusing all those who had the temerity to cross his path. He reached his own office, kicked open the door, strode past his astonished adjutant and snatched up the telephone. "Schellenberg! I want to see you up here immediately!"
    Without waiting for a reply, he slammed down the receiver again.
    *Bureau of State Security.
    " Sir--" began the adjutant.
    Heydrich ignored him and pressed a button on his desk. The response not being instantaneous, he pressed it again, keeping his finger on the buzzer.
    The loudspeaker crackled and a coarse, grating voice filled the room. "Gruppenfuhrer Muller, Gestapo."
    "Muller!,What's the matter with you? Wake up! I want to see you in my office straightaway."
    The adjutant bit his lip and slunk silently from the room. Heydrich threw himself into the depths of a leather armchair, crossed his legs and began drumming his fingers on his thigh. There was a rap at the door. An ordnance officer announced the arrival of SS Gruppenfuhrer Muller of the Gestapo and SS Brigadenfuhrer Schellenberg of the Security Service.
    Schellenberg was the first to enter. He was, as usual, dressed in civilian clothes, in a discreet gray suit. Gestapo Muller bustled behind, eager and anxious, his big red face on its thick neck bobbing awkwardly above his uniform. The ex-mailman from Munich had never yet learned how to wear his clothes with the elegance required of a German officer.
    Schellenberg, relaxed and smiling, saluted easily. Muller, rather more clumsily, followed suit.
    "So very very nice to see you both," said Heydrich from the depths of his armchair. "I trust you had a good night's sleep? It's a luxury that's denied some of us, but I'm