{"id":6061,"date":"2026-02-17T04:30:21","date_gmt":"2026-02-17T04:30:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/c2025.word-2-kindle.com\/brian\/?p=6061"},"modified":"2026-02-17T04:30:30","modified_gmt":"2026-02-17T04:30:30","slug":"on-a-train-in-germany","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/c2025.word-2-kindle.com\/brian\/2026\/02\/17\/on-a-train-in-germany\/","title":{"rendered":"On a Train in Germany"},"content":{"rendered":"[vc_row type=”in_container” full_screen_row_position=”middle” column_margin=”default” column_direction=”default” column_direction_tablet=”default” column_direction_phone=”default” scene_position=”center” text_color=”dark” text_align=”left” row_border_radius=”none” row_border_radius_applies=”bg” overflow=”visible” overlay_strength=”0.3″ gradient_direction=”left_to_right” shape_divider_position=”bottom” bg_image_animation=”none”][vc_column column_padding=”no-extra-padding” column_padding_tablet=”inherit” column_padding_phone=”inherit” column_padding_position=”all” column_element_direction_desktop=”default” column_element_spacing=”default” desktop_text_alignment=”default” tablet_text_alignment=”default” phone_text_alignment=”default” background_color_opacity=”1″ background_hover_color_opacity=”1″ column_backdrop_filter=”none” column_shadow=”none” column_border_radius=”none” column_link_target=”_self” column_position=”default” gradient_direction=”left_to_right” overlay_strength=”0.3″ width=”1\/1″ tablet_width_inherit=”default” animation_type=”default” bg_image_animation=”none” border_type=”simple” column_border_width=”none” column_border_style=”solid”][vc_column_text css=”” text_direction=”default”]It was late evening, just before the spring of 1939. Time Magazine had recently declared Adolf Hitler as its man of the year<\/strong> for 1938, on January 2 of the new year. I was in Berlin, about to board a train on the west side of the city, heading east; I had some meetings near the Polish border. Once on the train, I took a seat in a compartment with two benches facing each other. I sat down on the right side, with my back toward the front of the train; I was alone in the compartment. Words spoken loudly in German were everywhere, muffled by the confines of the small enclosed room I was in. A moment later the wheels of the train began rolling noisily, while outside my window the dark air looked thick, filled with steam, smoke and fog, as the lights of the station quickly disappeared into the night. The train was soon moving fast, rumbling and crackling along the tracks, the train compartment swaying gently side to side. German trains are noted for speed and efficiency. I turned out the ceiling light; there was a switch on the wall, near the window. The lights of Berlin rushed past me in a blur as I sat in the dimly lit compartment, thinking.<\/p>\n

Several critical decisions that involved me would be made within a few hours, with or without either my approval or my input. I was merely a player, even if a key player, on a stage much larger than imaginable, spanning continents and crossing multiple time zones. For only a brief few seconds I smiled, wondering if history would even remember me or any of the roles I played. I wasn\u2019t a Churchill, a Montgomery or a Roosevelt, most certainly not a Kaiser or a Hitler, even less a Stalin or a Mussolini. Yet I had my place on this stage of life, as invisible as I might be to most; I had my lines I\u2019d learned and practiced, ready to recite on cue.<\/p>\n

Some minutes later the train slowed to a stop, as a porter moved through the hallway announcing the arrival in German, I didn\u2019t really listen. Lights came on in the hallway which illuminated my compartment through the door window. It was light enough, I didn\u2019t bother turning the compartment light back on. Pulling a book out of my briefcase, I leaned back in my seat, stretching out my legs, and began to read Mein Kampf<\/u>, <\/em>not for the first time.<\/p>\n

Suddenly the door of the compartment slid open at the hands of a young porter, he looked to be little more than a boy of about sixteen. A tall, thin and stylishly dressed younger woman walked in to take a seat directly across from me, without speaking. I immediately pulled in my outstretched legs and tucked them under my knees, while I tried not to look closely at her, though I was compelled to, she was stunning. Wearing a beautiful dark blue suit with a white puffy blouse, dark stockings and black stiletto heels, the woman looked exquisite. I couldn\u2019t quite see her face as she had a pointed hat pulled low over her eyes.<\/p>\n

The moments of silence were awkward, though she didn\u2019t seem the least uncomfortable as she settled into her seat, putting a small suitcase on the bench seat next to her, then folded her hands onto her lap.<\/p>\n

As the train began moving again, the running lights in the hall dimmed and I broke the quiet that gripped the compartment. \u201cHeil Hitler, Fraulein.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGuten Abend.\u201d She replied coldly, precisely, as though it was a line she had rehearsed to exhaustion.<\/p>\n

I glanced out the window, unsure of what to say next, or even if I should speak. I felt like a poor traveling companion, even though I was dressed in an expensive, nicely pressed suit with immaculately polished shoes. I took my hat off and set it on the seat next to my briefcase.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are American. How odd that you salute Herr Hitler.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not German? Your accent is perfect.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter, accents can be acquired. Traveling far?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot far. You?\u201d<\/p>\n

She sighed, as though she was tired. \u201cNot far enough. Do you mind if I smoke?\u201d<\/p>\n

It suddenly occurred to me that we were still sitting in mostly darkness. \u201cOf course not, perhaps I might join you. Would you like me to turn the light on? I didn\u2019t need it when I first boarded, then I started to read just as you joined me here in the compartment. Oh, excuse me, I\u2019m assuming you speak fluent English.\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman laughed slightly. \u201cWhat would you do now if I didn\u2019t speak English? Repeat the whole thing in fractured German with a feigned accent?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know, I hadn\u2019t thought that far ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou may also smoke if you wish, I do not need the light on, there is plenty coming in through the window, and yes, among six other languages, I do speak English. Interesting choice of books for an American. Are you a fan of Herr Hitler?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I\u2019m a consummate reader, any book is a good book as far as I\u2019m concerned, I like to be informed. You know, our American magazine, Time<\/u>, <\/em>voted Adolf Hitler as man of the year for 1938. I thought it would do me well to know a bit more about the man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a journalist then.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps, of sorts, I can\u2019t deny I put my hand to writing here and there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAmong other things?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAmong other things.\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman removed her hat, setting it on her bench, beside her small suitcase. She had a beautiful, youthful face framed with lovely blond hair stylishly coifed. I tried hard not to stare, I don\u2019t know if I was successful or not.<\/p>\n

\u201cI suppose since we\u2019re sharing the train, we might as well introduce ourselves. I\u2019m Gertrude Steinmacher.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you do? I\u2019m enchanted to meet you, or should I say, enchante\u2019, <\/em>assuming French is one of your many language skills. I\u2019m Harry Schilling, from New York.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know who you are, Herr Schilling. And you\u2019re not from New York, you\u2019ve only lived there. You are from Los Angeles, California, and before that, Billings, Montana.\u201d<\/p>\n

My eyebrows went up. \u201cHow do you know all that?\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman laughed again. \u201cI read too, Herr Schilling. I saw your photograph in the newspaper, in der Zeitung,<\/em> and I recognized you when you removed your hat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWow, even in the dark?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEven in the dark.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo is it Fraulein or Frau Steinmacher?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat depends. Do you have a preference?\u201d<\/p>\n

It was my turn to laugh, completely aware she was playing games with me and thoroughly enjoying herself. I was enjoying myself as well. \u201cIf I was a single man, I\u2019d probably prefer you as a Fraulein, perhaps also to protect my reputation. However, I\u2019m guessing a woman as beautiful as you must have a husband somewhere, who is very protective of you, so you can be assured I will mind my manners and behave myself, Frau Steinmacher.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re smart, Herr Schilling, I will give you that. I guess I\u2019d say I\u2019m both. I was married, I no longer am. I still go by Frau Steinmacher for professional reasons, though I am a single woman.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, divorced?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, widowed.\u201d<\/p>\n

I swallowed hard. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, that must have been tough at such a young age.\u201d<\/p>\n

She sighed again. \u201cA lot of things are tough, Herr Schilling, we get over it, don\u2019t we?\u201d<\/p>\n

Frau Steinmacher pulled a cigarette out of her purse. I took one out of my coat pocket myself, then I offered her a light before I lit my own. She leaned forward, pointing her long cigarette toward my lighter. \u201cThank you, Herr Schilling. For a newspaper reporter, you are very polite. I appreciate politeness, we Germans are a very formal culture, though I suppose you know that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJa, I do. I\u2019ve been here for over three years now myself, haven\u2019t quite mastered the language on the level you have with English, though I understand more than I can speak. All of my work is in English, anyway, so that doesn\u2019t give me much chance to practice what little I know.\u201d<\/p>\n

Frau Steinmacher blew smoke gently between slightly pursed lips, then tapped her cigarette onto the ashtray near the window. I wasn\u2019t trying to watch her closely, except there was little else of interest to look at. She crossed her legs and shifted herself slightly toward the compartment window, staring outside. \u201cDo you attend many parties, Herr Schilling? Reporters like to circulate around, meet people, listen to rumors and gossip. Perhaps we\u2019ve met before somewhere?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I\u2019ve only been to a couple, mostly co-workers, that sort of thing. And I seriously doubt we\u2019ve met before, I hardly think I ever could have forgotten you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Frau Steinmacher laughed again as she looked at me, her eyes barely showing beneath her hat. \u201cThat\u2019s a compliment. Not a very good one, but I\u2019ll take it.\u201d She blew smoke sideways out of her mouth toward the window. As I watched her, my mind spoke secretly, \u201cGreat Scot, she is gorgeous.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe Germans like to party too, you know, good food, excellent wines, stimulating company. You really should get out more and broaden your horizons, Herr Schilling. It might contribute healthily to your writing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI take it you\u2019ve read some of my stuff, it must not have impressed you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t say that. It was merely a suggestion, you Americans are extremely sensitive people. Even if you spoke perfect German with a perfect accent, I would immediately know you are American, you care too much what others think, and you take every constructive comment as a criticism. You pity people who don\u2019t deserve it, then you show no mercy to those whose ideologies differ from yours. How am I doing so far, Herr Schilling?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know, other than your manner is pretty consistent, cold yet intriguing at the same time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps warmth is not what you\u2019re looking for, Harry.\u201d<\/p>\n

She used my first name, I was a little surprised that she dropped the usual formality. \u201cI like that you used my name, may I reciprocate? Do you go by Gertrude?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou may, but Gertude only when I\u2019m working. My friends call me Trudy. I think that is more of an American nickname than German, though I like it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTrudy, it fits you. It\u2019s fun. I imagine you\u2019re a lot of fun when someone gets to know you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy laughed once again. \u201cYou assume many things, including what I might consider fun, Harry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOk, I\u2019ll bite. What do you consider fun, Trudy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy took a deep breath, tossing her head back, showing her long, white neck that was graced with a gold chain. \u201cOh, I don\u2019t know, Harry. Long baths, walks in the moonlight, concerts of Bach and Mozart, the occasional opera, dinners at expensive restaurants where the waiters are rude, lots of things.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe restaurant sounds more French than German.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe French do not have a monopoly on snobbery, Harry. In fact, I rather like to think most great things about the French they acquired from the Germanic peoples. Have you ever considered that, Harry?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI really haven\u2019t. I just assume people are people, no matter where you go. You\u2019d find all of it in America.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yes, I did, I\u2019ve been there nine times. No real surprises, and you\u2019re not the first American to flirt with me on a train.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, I was trying to be polite, I wasn\u2019t trying to flirt.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t underestimate yourself, Harry. I like it when handsome men flirt with me. I didn\u2019t have to speak to you to begin with. I could have pretended to be Polish and not understand a word you said. We all play games, don\u2019t we? Masking what we really want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it we really want, Trudy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo be noticed, to be acknowledged, to matter, to be real to someone. Honestly, Harry, doesn\u2019t flirting give us the feeling that somehow we are more important than we really are to a total stranger? It\u2019s a nice feeling, no matter how long it lasts.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI suppose. I hadn\u2019t really thought about it that way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what do you do for fun, Harry? Tall glasses of wine beside your typewriter?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou make me sound awfully dull. I\u2019m not one of those guys who never sees the light of day, just spending all my time tapping out words one after the other, smoking and drinking the whole time, then sleeping it all off while the sun shines. No, I like the outdoors, exploring, seeing things. I might be kind of a loner, you know the word, \u2018introvert\u2019? I like people, don\u2019t get me wrong, but too many at one time isn\u2019t my preference. That\u2019s why I don\u2019t go to a lot of parties, they bore me. I\u2019d rather talk to someone like you all evening than spend hours chatting about nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy smiled, then put her cigarette out in the ashtray. I soon followed with mine. \u201cHarry, you\u2019re a man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks for noticing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot at all. So, as a man, do you think flirting with a stranger reveals who you really are? Or who you pretend to be?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm, interesting question. I suppose that depends. Some guys go in for being tough and upfront, when they are really shy and backwards most of the time. I\u2019m not one of those, I think I come across pretty close to who I really am. Can\u2019t say I\u2019ve thought a lot about it, though. I don\u2019t really go by the script, I play the scene as it unfolds.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s good, that\u2019s very good, Harry. And how is this scene unfolding?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d say it\u2019s going nicely. I\u2019m in a comfortable, heated train compartment traveling to the eastern edge of Germany with a beautiful woman and enjoying great conversation. There\u2019s been no awkward silences where neither of us has anything to say.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s true. How about we talk about something more intelligent, something say, scientific or political. What do you think of your magazine\u2019s man of the year, <\/em>Herr Adolf Hitler, our Chancellor?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou move fast, I like that, it\u2019s exciting, straight to the point. I don\u2019t think anything, really, I don\u2019t write about politics. He\u2019s got some innovative ideas, economic goals, made some changes. Seems popular with the people, can\u2019t argue that. Let\u2019s just say my interests lie in things a little less visible.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLike what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I don\u2019t know, say how has the average German farmer fared since the end of The Great War? Who are the people rebuilding after so much destruction? How have German mothers coped with the losses of sons, husbands, brothers, even fathers, in a war that left this country desolated?\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy sighed. \u201cYou find that exciting?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do. The world is peopled with the average man and woman, they are the ones who turn the machines of progress, that makes things happen, that provide the resources to build, or destroy. They follow commands, without benefit of questioning how sane or rational those commands are. Those are the people I write about, the invisible ones whose names would otherwise never be remembered.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh Harry, you\u2019re one of those. Men who think they can make a difference somehow, I find that tedious and sad. There are really only two kinds of humanity, you know that don\u2019t you, Harry? Those who control, and those who are controlled.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded my head. \u201cAnd where do you fit into those two categories, Trudy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t that rather obvious? Do I look like a farmer\u2019s wife or a factory worker?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo Ma\u2019am, you don\u2019t. But that doesn\u2019t mean you aren\u2019t being controlled by someone, somewhere.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy laughed again. \u201cWell, how about you? Who controls you? Your editor? Your publisher? Your government? Do your morals and ethics control you? Who pays you to be who you are, to do what you do, wouldn\u2019t you say they control you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou ask good questions, you should consider being a reporter or a writer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Harry, every one of you is controlled, you don\u2019t write what you feel, report what you see, or care about the truth. Whoever pays you decides what is truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that so? Interesting, I\u2019ve never known this. All this time I thought I was writing out of my above average intelligence.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThink beyond it, Harry. You write about what has happened; the other side makes the things happen that you write about. Everything you see, that you experience, that you discover, is all controlled so you will write exactly what those who control everything want the people to believe. You\u2019re a prisoner of your own above average intelligence, Harry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou speak as if you know things.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKnowing things is as valuable commodity, Harry. Having something to sell is how people like you and me have survived for thousands of years. I simply choose what it is that I will sell, and what it is that I won\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen you must be looking for a buyer. No use selling something nobody wants.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, the want is there, Harry, and the need. You sell your version of events and situations, knowing people will read what they want to know. You sensationalize it, build it up, tweak it, present it from a chosen perspective or view, making it as interesting as you can, so, guess what, your readers will buy it. All the while it may be nothing more interesting than two old farmers comparing their goats. Why not try a different angle, Harry? Try asking the goats how they feel about their farmers.\u201d<\/p>\n

I took a deep breath. I could still smell her cigarette; it smelled better than mine. I wondered what brand it was, it mixed well with her perfume.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs \u2018goat\u2019 one of the six or more languages you speak?\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy laughed harder this time. \u201cSpeaking someone\u2019s language isn\u2019t difficult, Harry. Mostly, you just say what they want to hear, after that, they think you are a genius. Try it, trust me, it works, Harry.\u201d<\/p>\n

She says my name a lot, it\u2019s starting to sound redundant, almost silly, yet somehow every time she says it, I like hearing it. She\u2019s smart, whatever game she\u2019s playing, she\u2019s done it before and she\u2019s good at it.<\/p>\n

The train slowed for another stop. Lights of the station soon came into view, shining through the window into our compartment. Trudy was even more beautiful in this light, more alluring now than when I first saw her. I tried not to stare as Trudy remained motionless, her head sideways, looking out the window.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope you\u2019re not getting off here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh no, not here. I\u2019m not there yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere is it you said you are going?\u201d
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say. Where are you traveling to, Harry?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnother ways, a few more stops, I think. A colleague is meeting me, we\u2019re working on a story together, near the eastern border of Germany.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI see. Story about what, Harry?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cInteractions between German and Polish farmers.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy laughed again. \u201cReally Harry, you could be more creative than that as a writer; it\u2019s not as if I am dumb enough to believe that. What secrets are you hiding in your briefcase?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo secrets, Trudy. I write human interest stuff, things that relate to the common people. I leave the politics, the war mongering, and the high society stuff to people who are more qualified.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you say so, Harry, I don\u2019t have the energy to argue with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

The compartment door slid open as a young German man stepped in, he looked like a college student with how he was dressed and conducted himself. Trudy recognized him immediately and smiled. \u201cFranz!\u201d Franz leaned over to kiss Trudy on both cheeks, then sat down a short distance from her on the bench.<\/p>\n

\u201cFrau Steinmacher, wie geht es Ihnen?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re speaking English in this car, Franz. Let me introduce you to my new friend, Herr Schilling.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded at Franz as he slightly nodded back at me, without smiling, then he raised his right arm. \u201cHeil Hitler, Herr Schilling. Frau, why are you speaking English? What if you\u2019re heard?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRelax, Franz. Herr Schilling goes by Harry, that\u2019s his first name, and he calls me Trudy. Isn\u2019t that clever?\u201d
\nFranz didn\u2019t answer but seemed to be watching me closely.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow are you, Franz? You seem to speak English nearly as well as Frau Steinmacher here. You\u2019re a student?\u201d<\/p>\n

Franz\u2019 face brightened just a little. \u201cJa, at the university in Berlin.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNice, are you from Berlin?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNein, Heidelberg.\u201d<\/p>\n

Franz seemed to speak in very short sentences. \u201cWhat brought you to Berlin?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe university, of course. Und Sie? What do you do, Herr Schilling?\u201d Franz almost sounded sarcastic when he said my name, like he knew something I didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a writer, actually. I write about common things, people, their lives, the average things.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh ja. People like me, I presume.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know, I don\u2019t know much about you. Are you the average university student?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps, to some. Frau Steinmacher believes I am above average.\u201d<\/p>\n

Franz looked at Trudy and laughed. She ignored him, glancing at me and then looking back out the window, her body angled away from Franz.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what do you study, Franz?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEnglish.\u201d Then he laughed harder this time, like it was a great joke.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnything else? I doubt you spend all your time learning English.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI study everything, Herr Schilling. Everything and everyone. I\u2019m what you might call a student of life, <\/em>I heard an American say that one time. You are American, are you not, Herr Schilling?\u201d<\/p>\n

Franz said my name a lot, similar to how Trudy did. It was a little unnerving after a while. \u201cI am. We all have to be from some place, don\u2019t we?\u201d<\/p>\n

Franz nodded. \u201cPerhaps it\u2019s not so important to know where we are from, only rather where we are going, don\u2019t you think so Herr Schilling?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDepends on where you\u2019re going, I suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh ja. Und where are you going, Herr Schilling?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEast, toward the border, to meet with farmers. I\u2019m writing an essay on the cooperation and friendship between German and Polish farmers.\u201d<\/p>\n

Franz\u2019 expression told me he could barely be less interested.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo Franz, just curious, with your education, do you have any political aspirations?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVery funny, Herr Schilling. Everyone in Germany has political aspirations, if they don\u2019t, they are suicidal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have to choose who your friends are and which side you are on, before you no longer have a choice. Is that honest enough for you, Herr Schilling?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know, I don\u2019t have a lot of friends, never felt the need for them. I\u2019m more of an observer, a reporter, than I am a participant.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think that is a professional way of hiding yourself, do you not think so, Herr Schilling?\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy turned her face toward me. \u201cHarry, it\u2019s time for me to reveal myself a bit more. I am a teacher at the university in Berlin. Franz is one of my students. He likes to argue, he gets carried away sometimes, but deep inside he\u2019s a very nice young man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a bit protective of you for a student, isn\u2019t he? He acts more like your lover.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe all play many parts, don\u2019t we Harry?\u00a0 I\u2019m especially fond of Franz, and I think he likes me too, but we\u2019re both too busy for any nonsense. The university most certainly would not approve.\u201d<\/p>\n

Franz said nothing, while I wasn\u2019t fooled. I recognized what I\u2019d seen pass between them when their eyes met. She was much more to him than his university professor.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, what do you teach? At the university, I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy smiled. \u201cEnglish studies, language, literature, customs, history, all of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat sounds more like spy school than university courses.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy laughed, she did that a lot. I wondered if it was me or if she was just easily amused.<\/p>\n

The train rolled up to another stop. Franz stood up to stand in front of the door so no one could see inside through the window. He kept his eyes on me, I was starting to get nervous. Trudy noticed it on my face, I was smart enough to see that I hid little from her, and I was beginning to suspect she knew more about me than I had imagined possible. As the train started moving again, I was disappointed no one else had come in to join us in the compartment; I had a growing conviction I was outnumbered. I was equally certain Franz had maneuvered himself at the door to prevent anything to my advantage from happening.<\/p>\n

\u201cRelax Harry, I believe the next stop is yours, isn\u2019t it? Not much longer now, about forty-five minutes I think. Sit back, enjoy the ride. We\u2019re friends now, aren\u2019t we? Franz doesn\u2019t say much but he really is a very special young man, you two should talk.\u201d<\/p>\n

Franz looked at Trudy with nothing less than disgust on his face. He either did not like her or he despised me, I gathered I had been wrong earlier when I thought I saw affection pass between them.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d like to take a walk, stretch my legs a little, visit the loo, if you don\u2019t mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy held up her hand. \u201cOh, but I do mind, Harry, very much so. We\u2019re just about to have a party here, and you\u2019re the guest of honor. You flirted so beautifully with me earlier, I\u2019m disappointed you stopped. Franz wouldn\u2019t mind, would you Franz? After all, you\u2019re a man yourself, you understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

Franz stared at me. He was quite handsome in his face, I hadn\u2019t noticed it earlier in the dim light. \u201cSo Franz, is English one of your studies at the university?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat, among other barbarians.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOuch, is that a criticism of my culture?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, an honest observation, in your pursuit of life, liberty and happiness.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou clearly don\u2019t appreciate Americans or the United States, I take it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re so quick to jump to conclusions, Herr Schilling. Frau Steinmacher doesn\u2019t approve of such behavior. I don\u2019t appreciate anyone, Schilling, I just do my job.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI see, well, what exactly is your job, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo protect Frau Steinmacher. I\u2019m, what you would call, her bodyguard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd why would she need a bodyguard, on a train, with an American newspaper man?\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy spoke up. \u201cThirty minutes, Franz. You see, as you have no doubt already suspected, Herr Schilling, I know who you are and also where you are going. You are no more a newspaper reporter than I am, and you\u2019re not on your way to study German and Polish farming interaction. I am indeed what you are, Harry, we\u2019re the same; I\u2019m a spy, and ever since I sat down on this seat, in this compartment, I have had a gun pointed at your head underneath my wrap, on my lap, with my hand on the trigger. I am a perfect shot, Harry, I never miss. You see, Franz and I are here to make sure you never make it to your meeting. In fact, you\u2019re never getting off this train, alive that is. See, I like what I do, I didn\u2019t want to take you totally by surprise. I want you to know what to expect, so you\u2019ll always remember me, wherever you go after this life. It was fun flirting with you, and we enjoyed ourselves, didn\u2019t we? Would you like a Schnapps as a farewell gesture? I have some in my little bag here. Franz, would you pour Herr Schilling a Schnapps, please?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo thank you, Frau Steinmacher, among your other aliases. I prefer to die sober and ready to meet my Maker. You see, I also knew who you are from the beginning. You\u2019re right about so many things, yet wrong about other details, important ones. I am not on my way to meet with a colleague on the Polish border. I am here to kill you, it\u2019s as simple as that.\u00a0 It would appear that we have been toying with each other from the beginning.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy had been smiling but now her face was in a cold stare. \u201cThat is impossible, you are lying. You had no idea who I am, and now you\u2019re stalling and playing games. Don\u2019t move your hands, Herr Schilling, I can shoot you at any moment, it\u2019s just not the precise time yet. If you know nothing else, you have to know that we Germans are a very precise people, we do things on time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do know that, and I\u2019m happy to oblige. You may wait to kill me until the precise time in your schedule, Frau Steinmacher.\u201d<\/p>\n

Frau Steinmacher relaxed again. \u201cI think I prefer it when you call me Trudy, and I\u2019ll keep calling you Harry, is that all right? After all, I do rather like you, very much in fact, perhaps in another place and time, under different circumstances, I have no doubts we could have become very good friends. I could easily fall in love with you, Harry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I you, Trudy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Franz spoke up. \u201cWhat are you two doing, are you insane? What is the matter with you? For a man about to die, you\u2019re an idiot. Frau Steinmacher, I will have to report this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy looked at Franz and laughed. \u201cWhere is your gun, Franz? You must have something on you to speak so boldly to me, I am your superior after all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNein, Frau Steinmacher, whatever game you are playing with the American, it\u2019s over. I will kill you both.\u201d<\/p>\n

Suddenly Trudy pulled out her handgun, it was tiny, she pointed it at Franz. Pulling the trigger, it only clicked. She pulled the trigger again and again, the gun wasn\u2019t loaded. Franz laughed as he pulled a revolver, a German Luger, out of his pants. \u201cYou silly, silly woman, I suspected as much, I took the bullets out before you came into the compartment. You\u2019re a traitor, you\u2019ve proven that to me for the final time.\u201d<\/p>\n

My heart was pounding, while I was trying to watch both Trudy and Franz. Franz stood by the door, waving the Luger back and forth between me and Trudy, his eyes moving quickly.<\/p>\n

\u201cHerr Schilling, perhaps you would oblige me by moving to sit next to Frau Steinmacher? And please keep your hands where I may see them, always, I don\u2019t want any surprises. If you have a gun, I suggest you hand it to me now, slowly and carefully.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have a gun on me, Franz, it\u2019s in my briefcase. You can look if you want. Let\u2019s be reasonable here, we\u2019re not at war, there\u2019s no reason for a young man like yourself to do something so foolish.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t move, though Franz acted as though I was going to move across the compartment to sit next to Trudy. \u201cWe\u2019re all born to be fools, aren\u2019t we Herr Schilling? Isn\u2019t that what your Shakespeare wrote? \u2018The world\u2019s a stage, and all are actors.\u2019 Would you say you are a spy? Or are you merely acting as a spy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShakespeare was English, not American. And you quoted him rather poorly, though I recognized it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo difference to me, I prefer German writers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFranz, there\u2019s no need for this. If you murder two people, how\u2019ll you ever get off this train? It has police in every car. How will you ever prove that a beautiful university professor and an American writer were any threat to Germany? You pull that trigger, Franz, and you\u2019re a dead man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMost amusing, Herr Schilling. Now kindly move to the other bench, beside Frau Steinmacher, I won\u2019t be nearly as polite the next request.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy moved her arm, gaining Franz\u2019 attention. \u201cFranz, none of this is necessary. You\u2019re misunderstanding everything. Sit down, let\u2019s talk.\u201d<\/p>\n

I leapt to my feet, flying toward Franz to tackle him. The Luger flew from his hands, landing on the floor. Trudy grabbed it, pointing it at both of us. Franz was screaming in German for help. He was strong, it took all my strength to try and wrestle him down.<\/p>\n

The sliding door to the compartment opened as two men dressed in suits and long overcoats stepped inside. One of them, the younger one, pointed a gun into Franz\u2019s ribs, at which he immediately raised his hands. \u201cSit down, Herr Holtz.\u201d He then proceeded to put handcuffs on Franz. In all of this, I forgot Trudy still held Franz\u2019 gun.<\/p>\n

\u201cScotland Yard, at your service, Harry.\u201d The older man spoke with a smile. Trudy handed the gun to him, moving as though she felt defeated.<\/p>\n

Franz looked around at all of us. \u201cWhat just happened here? Who are all you people?\u201d<\/p>\n

The older man from Scotland Yard smiled at Franz. \u201cWell, it\u2019s quite simple really, just a wee bit of tea and crumpets. You see, we\u2019ve been watching you, knowing you were planning to assassinate Mr. Schilling here, we share him, you see, with the Americans. Sort of a law-abiding double agent, if you catch on. You were outside this compartment listening to their conversation the entire time, ever since Frau Steinmacher boarded the train in Berlin. What you didn\u2019t know is that we were watching you. Precisely on cue, you know how precisely you Germans like to time things, you entered the compartment thinking you were backing up Frau Steinmacher. But you see, while we were watching you, you gave us our cue. We rather like doing things on time ourselves, don\u2019t you see? You were the prize we were after, not Frau Steinmacher, we only allowed you to think so, and now, here we are, we\u2019ve got you both. How about that for your German precision, Herr Holtz? Anyway, just a lot of hikkety pikkety at this point, we\u2019ve got a car waiting for you and you\u2019ll be saying goodbye to Deutschland, Herr Holtz. Tomorrow night you will sleep in London. Oh, not very comfortably, mind you, we don\u2019t put any frills into our cells. With bread and water, don\u2019t expect any Yorkshire pudding, sorry to disappoint.\u201d<\/p>\n

The younger man from Scotland Yard grabbed Franz and forcibly pushed him from the compartment, I would assume to another place they had waiting on the train. The older man muttered, \u201cDamn kid is trying to start a war.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trudy looked at me with soft pleading in her eyes. \u201cYou didn\u2019t really think I was going to kill you, did you Harry? You understand I had to put on a show for Franz? The truth is, Harry, well, I think I fell in love with you, somewhere between Berlin and now.\u201d<\/p>\n

I grabbed Trudy into my arms as our lips met, we kissed passionately. The older Scotland Yard man said, \u201cKrikey, I better leave and let you two have the room to yourselves.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled, looking into Trudy\u2019s eyes. \u201cMeet me in Berlin? After my appointments on the border?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, you know I will. Same place?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSame place, at our apartment, Mrs. Schilling.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, our very own apartment, Mr. Schilling. With our two cats, our maid, and our typewriter.\u201d[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row]\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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