THE LAST GOOD WAR: A Novel by Paul Wonnacott Page A

weed, you see, has pow'r of life o're me.”
    Henryk ended the game with a rhyming couplet:
    “Then heart's enigma fast unraveled be,
    With happiness and joy for all to see.”
    “Joking aside,” he said in his normal businesslike voice, “we all congratulate you, Anna, and wish you and Kaz the greatest happiness. But it's time to get back to unraveling the real Enigma.
    “With our new sheets, we've been able to decipher some of the messages from last October, November, and early December. But we've hit a stone wall since mid-December. We've been able to decode only a few messages, and only when the German operator did something stupid—like sending part of a message in code and part in the clear. But those few messages have been enough to tell us that the Germans introduced two new wheels in December.”
    The group looked glum. Except Anna, who had been floating on a cloud since Kaz proposed.
    “Marian and I have concluded that the Germans use only three wheels at any one time, even though they now have five available. If we're correct, our problems have multiplied tenfold. Now there are 5 possible wheels in the first position, 4 in the second, and 3 in the third—60 positions altogether. We'll need 60 sets of sheets, not just six, and we'll be able to make the 60 only if we get our hands on those last two wheels.”
    Everybody—again except Anna—looked even glummer.
    “Nevertheless, I do have some good news. We have permission to tell the British and French everything we know, and even give them copies of the Enigma machine. The meeting is scheduled for July 11 and 12. For security reasons, it won't be here. You should all be prepared to travel with your overnight bags on the previous evening, the 10th.”
    When the 10th came, they were taken in several army staff cars, along a circuitous route, to a hunting lodge deep in Pyry Forest. It was a rustic building, surrounded by towering fir trees, swaying and sighing in the gentle breezes. Even in summer, a huge stone fireplace in the middle of the Great Hall provided a coziness to the lodge, taking the creeping chill off the late-evening air. The high, open ceilings of the hall were supported by roughhewn timbers. Corridors ran off the hall in all directions, some to meeting rooms, some to the bedroom wings.
    The French and British were now very serious indeed; the prospect that they might all be destroyed by the Nazis had marvelously focused their minds. The French were headed by Gustave Bertrand, who was warmly welcomed by Marian Rejewski. The two old friends quickly disappeared into one of the meeting rooms, accompanied by several other French officers and Jerzy.
    As planned, Anna and Henryk retired to another room with Dilly Knox and Alastair Denniston. In spite of Henryk's limited knowledge of English, he would be able to follow Anna's main points, and suggest additional ideas from time to time.
    He was lugging a heavy case, which he placed on the table in front of Denniston. Henryk snapped the cover back.
    “This, Mr. Denniston, is the German Enigma machine,” Anna began dramatically. “More precisely, it is our copy of the machine. Please accept it as a gift of the Polish Government.”
    Denniston mumbled his thanks, and began to examine the machine. “Please call me Alastair,” he added. “I notice that you all call one another by your first names.”
    So he did, apparently, have at least a smattering of Polish, or perhaps Russian.
    Anna explained how they figured out the basic Blue code for the early machine, then went through the complications that had arisen, especially the steckerboard. She emphasized the importance of repeats in the inscrutable six. They might be exploited with Rejewski's machine—details to come this afternoon—and the Zygalski sheets. Henryk appeared slightly embarrassed when she used that term.
    The British seemed duly impressed, but then she got to the disappointing bit. Although they had sporadically deciphered messages for