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‘This is where everything you’ve been taught in school and in your Hitler Youth meetings about “pure blood” and “bad blood” and “vermin” ends.

This is what happens when we follow leaders who teach hatred against Jews and Russians and anybody who’s not what they call “Aryan”.

Who say that there are people who can’t exist in their version of the world.

This is what Hitler and the Nazis wanted all along.

Innocent people lying dead on the road like pieces of scrap.

Camps like Dachau where the brutality is terrifying and total.

’ He paused, took another breath, slowed down so they wouldn’t miss or misunderstand a word.

‘And this hatred is what you’ll be fighting to preserve if you do what my father tells you to do and carry this cruel war on. ’

No one spoke for a moment, but Pascal knew he hadn’t instantly won them, that victory didn’t come so easily. He had, after all, been through the same educational factory that they had.

‘You sound like a traitor. You said Nazis as if they’re bad people. You sound like you hate the Führer and you want Germany to lose the war.’

He wasn’t surprised when Niko turned on him. Or when the others began squaring themselves up as if for a fight. He knew the next few moments could as easily end up in a rope round his neck as a breakthrough. But he was prepared for that too.

‘Perhaps that’s what I am. Perhaps all the word “traitor” means is somebody who’s woken up and is willing to tell the truth.

Well, let me tell you the rest of that. Whatever lies you’ve been fed about miracle weapons and the Germans’ unbreakable spirit, and no matter how much you want it to be different, the war is lost.’ He kept talking over their shock.

‘The Allies will be in Unterwald within days, and here, and all over the country, desperate men are trying to hide their crimes or running away from the evidence of them, which is what these bodies are. And those men – those soldiers and officers and those people like my father who like to tell you what to do – won’t stand alongside you in some crazed and pointless last battle.

They’ll let you die in their places while they cower at home and get their white flags ready. ’

The boys stared from the bodies back to him, their faces a confused tapestry of anger-born red patches and fear-induced white, their fists clenching as their knees shook.

‘How can you say such terrible things? You fought cowards like the Russians in battle and you beat them. You conquered Mount Elbrus. You’re supposed to be a hero.’

The boy who shouted that was one of the youngest in the troop, and his voice hadn’t yet settled on a register.

He was still old enough in Hitler’s eyes to die.

And to try to blink back his tears as his dreams started to crumble.

Pascal wished he could soften the blow, but that wasn’t what he was there for.

‘But I’m not a hero – that’s the point. I wanted to be one when I was your age; I thought joining the Party and following the Führer would make me one.

And yes, I fought in battles and I went up a mountain.

But the Russians weren’t cowards; they were as brave as we were, and as for Elbrus…

It was a lie too. That photograph you’ve seen?

’ He shook his head as the memory flooded back.

‘It wasn’t taken on the day of the actual climb – the weather was too bad for that.

We had to go up again because the Führer wanted his moment of glory recorded for the whole world to see.

Except there wasn’t any glory to be had.

By the time we went back the next day, the Russians had already taken the summit again, and we had to dodge their snipers the entire way up and down.

I imagine our flag was torn from the pole again in seconds.

And we weren’t heroes in that photograph, trust me: we were exhausted men afraid we were going to die a very pointless death.

The real story then was how ferocious and fearless and unbeatable the Russians were. And that’s the real story now.’

He stopped his tirade as one of the boys started to cry. Pauli and Niko wouldn’t look at him. None of them would look at the bodies anymore. Pascal couldn’t tell if he’d won them round or not. He dropped his voice and forced himself to remember they were children.

‘I am so sorry I’ve had to put you through this, but it was the only way I could get you to listen to me.

I know more about the way you feel than you think.

I thought war was a glorious thing too and that soldiers were giants among men.

I couldn’t wait to follow the Führer and fight for my country and become a giant too. ’

He had their full attention again now, and they deserved all his honesty, whether he had their trust and understanding or not.

‘But there’s not been anything glorious about this war or the part I’ve played in it.

I’ve let down people I loved because I was blind, and I’ve put them in danger.

I’ve let terrible things happen because I chose not to see that it was hatred not honour that fuelled the Party.

I’m twenty-four years old and I’ll carry shame and guilt with me for the rest of my life.

And I don’t want that for you. I want you to go home and take off your uniforms and wait out the last days of this terrible conflict safely with your families.

I want you to live and rebuild something better.

But I can’t force you to make that choice.

Any more than I can stop you from handing me over as a traitor.

All I can ask you to do is stop for a moment, forget all the lessons you’ve been taught and think for yourselves. ’

He had nothing more to say. He left them then and began walking back towards Unterwald.

He let the boys decide by themselves what to do.

Whatever that would be was out of his hands, but he’d spoken up and made a stand, and there was some comfort to be had in doing that, for him if not for them.

Not enough to erase the guilt that was lodged at his core – he couldn’t imagine ever unseating that, no matter how many ways he atoned.

But if his words had kept one boy out of the reach of a bullet or a tank, the noose Viktor would wrap round his neck if he knew what Pascal had done would be worth it.

He re-entered the town with the boys a little way behind him and no idea what any of their fates would be.

But the world had moved on while they’d been out walking.

People were standing aimlessly in the streets, staring blankly at each other, looking around as if they were waiting for someone to give them directions.

And the same words were on everyone’s lips.

‘The Führer is gone – he is dead.’