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‘This is the quartermaster’s office,’ said the driver. ‘They’ll assign you to your rooms. Good luck.’
Inside, Leila handed her papers and military orders to the quartermaster.
Frowning, he grabbed a telephone. ‘Colonel, I have a female here with the rank of major. Where do you suggest I put her, sir?’
He listened for a moment, then put down the phone and dragged a couple of brown woollen blankets from the shelf behind him, which he handed to Leila. ‘House number seven, Major – it’s the first room on the right.’
The room was bare except for a light bulb hanging from the ceiling. There wasn’t even a bed. Leila dropped the blankets on the floor and sat down on her suitcase, musing on the wisdom of her decision to come back to Germany.
There was a knock on the door. ‘Major, it’s me – Penelope.’
Leila opened the door. Penelope burst out laughing. ‘I’m sorry, Major, I shouldn’t laugh, but I told you it would be grim. Mine’s just as bad. I suggest we go and get something to eat and hopefully to drink. The world always looks better when your stomach’s full and you’re a little tipsy.’
They joined a queue of people outside the dining hall, located in a brightly lit building at the end of the street. Leila had to shade her eyes as she walked in, so blinding were the lights.
‘Can I buy you girls dinner?’ A handsome lieutenant colonel took both women by their arms.
Penelope winked at Leila. ‘Sure,’ she said. He guided them to a table and poured them each a glass of red wine.
‘French,’ he said seductively.
‘Nice,’ said Penelope.
As Leila sipped the wine, she felt the tension of the previous twelve hours seep away. After dinner they made their excuses and retreated to their barren rooms, where Leila wrapped herself in her blankets, lay down on the floor and slept.
She was woken by a banging on the door. ‘Major, Major Labowski…it’s Penelope. You must get up, or you’ll miss breakfast.’
Leila dragged herself awake. It was barely light outside, but at least she had slept – surprisingly well, in fact. ‘All right,’ she called back sleepily.
‘The bathroom’s down the hall,’ Penelope told her. ‘You have to share – so don’t be shy. One person bathes while the others use the basins. You’ll get used to it. And we need to be in the dining hall by seven – the doors are locked after that.’
‘Gosh,’ said Leila, checking her watch. It was just before six. ‘I’ll get up now – thank you. I’ll see you in there.’
‘And don’t forget your tokens,’ Penelope called back to her.
‘What tokens?’
‘The quartermaster gave them to us last night – they’re in an envelope. You have to hand them over for any food and goods you want. See you.’
Leila finally arrived in the dining room at ten minutes to seven, dressed in her army uniform, her tokens tucked into her uniform.
To her relief, she spotted a familiar face. It was Colonel Potter, the man who had recruited her in London. ‘Major Labowski,’ he said, taking her arm, ‘good to see you’ve arrived safely. Come and sit with us.’
He led to her a table filled with officers of every rank from generals down. The officers’ plates were piled high with food.
‘You can have anything you like,’ explained the colonel, pulling out a chair for Leila. ‘Oatmeal, cereal, fruit, pancakes, ham and eggs, grapefruit, rolls, croissant – and coffee of course.’
‘Gosh, what a huge choice.’ Faced with such indulgence, Leila was almost overwhelmed. After the restricted diet everyone in London had endured for years, she suddenly lost her appetite.
‘Just coffee and toast for me,’ she said to the waitress – a pretty girl who spoke with a foreign accent.
‘That waitress, where is she from, Colonel?’
‘Could be anywhere,’ he replied. ‘We have all sorts here – Ukrainians, Czechs, Poles – all of them displaced persons. With us, they have good jobs, enough to eat and they’re learning English – well, American English, at least.’
Leila laughed. She liked this man – he was open, friendly and honest.
‘When you’ve finished breakfast, please come to my office. You’ll find it next to the quartermaster’s. I’d like to introduce you to my team.’
