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“Eschborn, Army Seven-Oh-Seven at the threshold of Three-five. VFR to Hersfeld. Request takeoff permission.
“Hersfeld, Army Seven-Oh-Seven, request approach and landing. I am a Storch aircraft, I say again, Storch aircraft, at fifteen hundred four miles south of your station.
“Hersfeld, Army Seven-Oh-Seven understands Number Two to land on Three-three after an L-4.
> “Hersfeld, Army Seven-Oh-Seven . . . Oops! I came in a little long. I’d better go around. I should be able to get it on the ground the next try. Please close out my VFR flight plan at ten past the hour. Thank you.”
When I am absolutely sure that I’m out of sight of the Hersfeld tower, in the interest of pilot safety I will climb to say five hundred feet and go to Munich.
[ FOUR ]
Hotel Vier Jahreszeiten
Maximilianstrasse 178
Munich, American Zone of Occupation, Germany
1655 3 November 1945
And what am I going to do, Cronley wondered, as he reached for the doorknob of Suite 507, if Sergeant Freddy Hessinger has taken off for the day? Go look for him in that whorehouse? Or if Major Harold Wallace is here?
Sergeant Hessinger was at his ornate desk in his usual pinks-and-greens officer’s uniform. The door to Wallace’s office was closed; there was no way to tell if he was in it or not.
“I was wondering where you were,” Hessinger greeted him.
It came out, “I vus vondering vair you vur.”
Cronley managed not to smile.
“Your girlfriend has been looking for you,” Hessinger added.
Jesus Christ! Does Freddy know?
Cronley sat down in one of the two upholstered chairs facing Hessinger’s desk before asking what he hoped would sound like an innocent question.
“What girlfriend would that be?”
“Mrs. Colonel Schumann, that one.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Cronley hoped that question also sounded innocent.
“She telephoned twice and came in once. I think she wants you to buy her dinner.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Because she is a colonel’s wife and he went to Vienna and left her here and you are a captain and she thinks she’s entitled.”
“Screw her.”
“I don’t know how nice that would be, but I do know it would be very dangerous. Colonel Schumann is not a nice man.”
“Speaking of nice men, where is Major Wallace?”
“He is at the bar of the officers’ club.”
“Here in the hotel?”
