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“I try not to call Freddy when he’s visiting friends. He sulks.”

She smiled.

“Is Mr. Ostrowski with you?”

“He’s at Kloster Grünau. I had to wait until Schultz and Ashton took off, which meant it was too dark for me to land there. So I came here.”

“Major Derwin called. He said he’d like to see you at ten hundred tomorrow.”

What does that sonofabitch want?

“Wonderful!”

“Can I get you anythi

ng?”

“No, thank you. I’m going to go to my room, have a stiff drink, and go to bed.”

“How did things go with General Greene?”

“It was interesting, Claudette, but not worthy of an after-action report.”

Subject: Screw Up and Get Thrown to the Wolves.

“That’s what I’ve been doing,” she said, nodding at the typewriter. “After-action reports.”

“Claudette—”

“My friends call me ‘Dette,’” she said.

“Because if they shortened it the other way, it would be ‘Claude’?”

“And I don’t want to be called ‘Claude.’”

“Well, Dette, as I was about to say, Freddy will push you around if you let him. Don’t let him. It’s quarter after eight. Knock off. The after actions aren’t that important.”

“Okay, I’ll finish this one and knock off,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Good night, Dette.”

“Good night . . . What should I call you?”

“Good question. When no one’s around, call me Jim. Otherwise, Mr. Cronley.”

“Got it. Good night, Jim.”

“Good night,” Cronley said, and walked out.

Cronley went to his room, which was actually a suite, found a bottle of scotch, poured himself a stiff drink, and then decided he would first have a shower and then have the drink, catch the 2100 news broadcast on the American Forces Network Munich radio station, and then go to bed.

Ten minutes later, as he pulled on the terrycloth bathrobe that came with the suite, he heard over AFN Munich that he was just in time for the news. It was always preceded by a solemn voice proclaiming, “Remember, soldier! VD walks the streets tonight! And penicillin fails once in seven times!”

And he wondered again, as he often did, how Daddy or Mommy explained the commercial to nine-year-old Jane or Bobby when they asked, “Daddy, what’s that man talking about?”

When he came out of the bathroom, Technical Sergeant Colbert was sitting in an armchair.

“You almost got a look at something you don’t want to see,” he snapped. “What the hell are you doing in here?”