The unit was also taught basic fighting tactics, such as methods for taking machine-gun posts, setting ambushes, clearing buildings, dealing with snipers and using bayonets. In all these activities, Lockhart set an example, taking firm control of the men when they were practicing such engagements. By this stage, it was becoming evident that the men were even enjoying themselves, as the effects of physical fitness combined with a sense of purpose put a sparkle into their once-tired eyes.

Nevertheless, it was not as though the unit had completely transformed. Arguments and fights still broke out, the cause usually being a difference of political opinion fanned by alcohol. It was also clear that Maclaren, Pugh, Simpkin, Smith and Prain—the fascist cell—were hardly Lockhart’s biggest fans, a fact relayed to him by Worstead. Not that Lockhart needed telling, but he was grateful to Worstead, who had also told him that the others—Catchpole, Marston, Hull, Andreae, Allan, Stafford, Malcolm and Nichols—all thought the Hauptsturmführer a “top bloke.” This was excellent news, thought Lockhart, because including Worstead, he now had a core of nine men who were showing loyalty to him. And what of Butcher? Lockhart asked Worstead. He was a mystery, said Worstead; one just couldn’t tell what he was thinking inside that black-eyed skull.

The man who was outstandingly happy was of course Strasser, who was firing off memoranda twice a week to Berger, telling him that the unit was in fantastic shape, and would be a useful addition to any front line. Berger’s replies were noncommittal, revealing a lack of interest that annoyed Strasser. As far as Strasser could tell, the efforts of Sturmbannführer Stranders were ineffective, and for the time being, Stranders had come nowhere near Hildesheim.

By the end of April, things were going well. The unit was approaching a level of competence that Strasser found satisfactory, and he told Lockhart that at this rate, it would not be long before he was allowed to see Anna. Strasser would not say when, despite Lockhart’s insistence; only that it would be soon. Inwardly, Lockhart was delighted too—he was building up a cadre of loyal men, a team that he might be able to put to good use. What he really needed, however, was to hear from “Hattie,” but she had been stubbornly silent.

It was nearly lunchtime, but Brigadier Watkins still had another box file to get through. Marked “Belsize,” it was a collection of the past fortnight’s material sent to the fictitious address in Belsize Park. The box file felt light, almost empty. Good—he would soon be able to get something to eat.

He opened the file and was relieved to see that it contained only one envelope and a small strip of paper, upon which was typed a short message.

IN RENEGADE UNIT BRITISH FREE CORPS IN HILDESHEIM HAVE LEARNT NERVE GAS SARIN HELD IN PLACE STARTING MITT

D/H 315