Page 75 of The Unknown Birds

Ash froze. He knew they were German biscuits.

“I—they’re from a… neighbor. Back home. She’s very kind.”

“I’m sure she is. Don’t fret. I won’t turn you in.” He savored the last buttery morsel and added, “More delicious than I remember. Thank you, Ash.”

“Have you been to Germany, sir?”

“Many times as a child. Secret for a secret?”

Ash nodded, honored to be the keeper of his confidence, though it wasn’t very private with all the others leaning in.

“My maternal grandparents were German.”

“They never were,” Coop said. “Don’t that make things awful hard?”

Davies snorted, but it wasn’t a real laugh. “Yes, Cooper. That’s one of a great many reasons all of this is terribly fucking hard indeed.”

The boys were delighted by his swearing, and Ash offered up another Butterplätzchen. He smiled conspiratorially. “Just one more,” he said, tapping his nose as though this, too, were their little secret.

“Take a few if you like—” Ash began, but a runner from another unit interrupted with a summons for the captain.

“Gentlemen,” he said, skimming the message and stepping away.

“He’s to report to battalion HQ posthaste,” the runner told them, looking into Ashley’s tin with interest, so she shrugged and let him have a biscuit. “The lieutenant colonel’s in a right snit, I can tell you,”

“Why? What’s happened?” Blake asked.

“He’s decent enough, the lieutenant colonel. I don’t expect he’d be half so hot, but he had an earful off the major general this morning⁠—”

“What’s that to do with Davies?” Rook demanded.

The runner leaned back and looked around at each of them in disgust. “What you lot did of course. Fraternizing with the enemy. Disgraceful, you ask me⁠—”

“We never did,” Cooper interrupted.

“It was all part of the plan,” Rook said. “Give them a thick head, leave them in bed for a week. Easy pickings.”

“Word in the rear is you swapped chocolates and played football.”

“A preview of the thrashin’ they can expect when next we meet,” Stewart explained.

“You can’t kill a man on Christmas,” TomTom added. “Bad luck, isn’t it?”

“Command thinks otherwise,” the runner said, turning down the trench in search of rations.

The others exchanged nervous glances, while Rook hung his head in abject shame. Ash knew he’d never forgive himself for instigating the football if it got the captain in very serious trouble.

Davies passed by again a few minutes later, washed and shaven and looking quite presentable in a crisp, clean uniform.

“You should eat something before you go, sir,” Dusty advised him. “At least have a cup of tea.”

Their Old Man just shook his head, ready to get his dressing down over with. “See you soon, lads,” he promised, wringing his hat a little nervously despite his cheerful tone, so they plastered false smiles on their faces and wished him well.

“Happy new year, Cap,” Rook called after him sadly.

“Happy new year, Rook. A very happy new year to you all,” he replied. Then he stood up straight, put on his hat, and followed the runner back from whence he came.

“How deep do you reckon he’s in it?” Ash whispered to Rook.