Louis studied the jottings. The handwriting was distinctly German, but the overall syntax pattern struck him as odd. A couple of I’s and O’s were missing their diagonal marks. There was no cross through 7 and the letter Z. Some nouns were not capitalized. He pondered the page. The oversights could have been the result of hurried scribbling, but the rules of penmanship were second nature to Germans, automatically followed, and the arrangement of words and structure of several of Herr Bauer’s sentences were definitely unconventional to German. There was an informality about them, like the pattern of American English. Had Claus Bauer spent time in America? Was he learning English on the sly? Why? German would eventually become the world language. Nowhere in the personnel file of the department’s most recently hired instructor was there a mention of his having been in America or of his learning the English language. After his meeting with Major General March, he would check the files in the office of Jules Garnier, the personnel director, and perhaps they’d tell him more. One scrap of information Louis had learned: Claus Bauer was coddling Wilhelm March.

He rose quickly in answer to the pounding of a balled fist on the outer door. He rushed to open it to two stern-faced men in German Wehrmacht overcoats, one an army sergeant, the other unmistakably Major General Konrad March. “Heil Hitler,” Louis said as he raised an arm in the Nazi greeting and stepped respectfully back to allow their entrance. Major General Konrad March returned a careless military salute and a murmured “Heil Hitler” as he and his aide passed by Louis into the room, his gaze going at once to the portrait of Hitler, then sweeping to the anti-Jewish posters and Nazi flags displayed about the room. The man drew off his gloves, and his aide assisted in removing his overcoat, revealing the full regalia of his rank and military honors. Impressive as they were, the medals, soutache piping, knotted gold braid shoulder boards weren’t necessary to substantiate his authority. If sheer power were of human shape, it would take the form of Major General Konrad March.

Turning his attention back to Louis, the general said, “I am here in the capacity of a parent to discuss your physical education program, Herr Mueller.”

Louis felt a jab of alarm. The man’s face and tone expressed no emotion by which he could judge his mood. Had he come to praise or upbraid? “Of course, Herr Major General,” he said. “Shall we go into my office?”

The general nodded to his aide, who took a visitor’s seat, then paused to study the department’s mission statement posted on a wall. “So your aim here is to graduate a product ‘swift as a greyhound, tough as leather, and hard as Krupp’s steel’?”

“Yes, Herr Major General, by orders of the Führer.”

“I see.”