‘Shame to knock it down but it looked wrong when it were empty, as if we were waiting for trouble to start again and wanted to be prepared. Brought a load of workmen in and dismantled it all in a few days. Some of it’s ploughed back into the land and some of the stone went to prop up other buildings or put up walls. There’s not much goes to waste up here, love. Up there, that were the barracks. And ye can mebbe see the shape of what used to be the church and theatre.’

‘Church and theatre?’ I asked, surprised.

‘Aye, like I say, they made the most of their time. People here showed them the first kindness they’d known for a long time. I’d like to think none of ’em went home a Nazi.’

I sat in silence, watching the rain scythe down into land that had known the rhythm of so many different soldiers over so many centuries. The thought nearly took my breath away. I found myself thinking of Picts in furs and blue woad, battling the red-and-gold splendour of the Roman invaders. Saw the blonde hair of the Vikings who brought hell from the seas. Began to see the ceaseless surging of invasion and repulsion; a tide of men in different uniforms, clinging to different gods, flinging themselves upon this landscape like waves upon a shore. I sensed bones beneath my feet. Felt light-headed at the torrent of blood that had been spilled upon this quiet, pretty place.

‘We get ’em coming back,’ said Loz. ‘Old inmates. Proper association now, y’know. Organized trips about once a year. Men who were prisoners here – they come to see old friends and soak up the air they remember so fondly. Doing OK now. It could turn your stomach if ye let it, the way Germany’s pulled its socks up. Ye wouldn’t know they’d lost the bloody war. But then ye see the lads and their families and ye realize it’s all just luck, really. Who knows what we’d have said if a Hitler had cropped up here, eh? It’s all an accident, I suppose. We were losing the war for a long time, remember that, love. It could all have gone different. It could be me going to visit some rural POW camp in Germany and remembering the good times.’

I glanced at him. He looked a little deflated. His eyes were dark.

‘Did you say all this to Fairfax?’

He barked a one-note laugh. ‘Aye, he had a way of getting you talking did Fairfax. Sometimes you don’t know how you feel about things until after you’ve said them and then you find yourself agreeing with your own words.’ He glanced at me, half-smiling. ‘That probably sounds mad to a university girl.’