I took off my hat and sprinted toward this diminutive hero as the puff house door opened. Seeing me near the general, an aide-de-camp blocked my path. This man was a colonel with a monocle.

“General,” I said. “General von Vollard-Bockelburg.”

I put on my cap and saluted smartly.

“Yes,” said the general, and returned my salute. His head was almost hairless. He looked like a baby with a mustache.

“Thank God, sir.”

“Willms, is it?”

This was better than I had hoped for. I glanced nervously at the doorman, wondering if he spoke much German, and risked clicking my heels, which, to a German officer at least, always meant “Yes.”

“I’m so glad I caught you, Herr General. Apparently, there’s a detachment of French gendarmes on their way here to raid this place.”

“What? General Schaumberg assured me that this establishment was beyond reproach.”

“Oh, I’m sure the general is right, sir. But the Prefecture of Paris has been given orders by the German Morality Commission that maisons de plaisir employing coloreds or Jews are to be closed down, the women arrested, and any German officers found on the premises checked for venereal disease.”

“I signed that order myself,” said the general. “That order was for the protection of the ordinary rank and file. Not for senior German officers. Not for maisons like this.”

“I know, sir. But the French, sir. It would appear that they didn’t appreciate that, sir. Or at least have chosen not to appreciate it, if you receive my meaning.” I glanced urgently at my watch.

“What time is this raid to take place?” asked the general.

“Well, that all depends, sir. Not everyone in Paris has bothered to set clocks to German time, as per your orders, sir. And that includes the French police. If the raid takes place according to Paris time, then it might happen at any minute. But if it’s Berlin time, then there might yet be time to get everyone else in the maison out before an embarrassing incident occurs.”

“He’s right, sir,” said the aide. “There are still a great many French paying no attention to official German time.”

The little general nodded. “Willy,” he said to the aide. “Go in there and discreetly inform all general staff officers you can find that the story is out on this place. I’ll wait for you in the car.”

“Would you like me to help, Herr Colonel?”

“Yes, thank you, Captain Willms. And thank you for your presence of mind.”

I clicked my heels again and followed the colonel through the door while the little general explained things to the doorman in what sounded like excellent French.