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“That’s an unworkable mouthful,” Cronley said. “It says here you’re a senior watch chief. What the hell is that?”

“I believe it is equivalent to U.S. Army first lieutenant, sir.”

Cronley had raised his right hand as a priest giving a blessing does, and announced, “Since I can pronounce this, I christen thee Lieutenant Max. Go and sin no more.”

“Jesus, Jim!” the enormous black first sergeant protested. But he was smiling.

“Any objections?” Cronley asked.

“No, sir.”

“Any other officers in your organization?”

“Yes, sir. There is one who served as a tank lieutenant with the Free French.”

“Okay. Then you and he will bunk and mess with us,” Cronley said. “Sergeant Tedworth”—Cronley pointed to the technical sergeant—“who is Number Two to First Sergeant Dunwiddie”—Cronley pointed to the first sergeant—“who is my Number Two, will show you where your men will be quartered. I hope you brought somebody who can cook with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will answer to Sergeant Tedworth,” Cronley went on. “You have any problems with that?”

Does he mean because I’m an officer?

“No, sir.”

“Okay. Freddy, you go with Tedworth and Lieutenant Max and show them where they’ll be. Then send Lieutenant Max back here. If you find someone who can translate for Tedworth . . . Abraham Lincoln speaks German, Max, but not Polish . . .”

“Abraham Lincoln”? Oh, he means Sergeant Tedworth.

“. . . Hessinger speaks Russian and tells me that’s close to Polish. If there are no translation problems, Freddy, you come back. If there are, stay and translate. But send Lieutenant Max back. I need to bring him up to speed on what’s going on around here ten minutes ago.”

Mr. Hessinger nodded.

Twenty minutes later, Hessinger and Ostrowski had come back into what Ostrowski was to learn was called the “officers’ mess.” Cronley and Dunwiddie were sitting at a bar drinking beer.

“No translation problems?” Cronley asked.

“Between the Poles who speak German and Tedworth’s guys who do likewise, no problem,” Hessinger reported.

“Do you drink beer, Max?” Cronley asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you better have one before I tell you how close you’ll be to getting shot working here.”

What did he say?

Cronley gestured to Hessinger, who went behind the bar, found bottles of Löwenbräu and mugs, and handed one of each to Ostrowski.

“Tell me, Max, how you came to speak the King’s English?”

“I spent the war years in England.”

“Doing what?”

“I was in the Free Polish Air Force.”

“Doing what?”