Chapter 1

A warm breeze blew cobweb clouds across the star filled sky. It swayed the branches of trees and rustled their leaves. In the open fields, crops bent under its invisible touch. It wafted the scent of wildflowers, filling the night air with their sweet perfume. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted. The moon gazed down at the sleeping countryside below and smiled.

                But Klaus wasn't smiling. He wasn't concerned if the moon was happy or not. Klaus couldn't care less about rustling leaves or give a hoot about owls. The fragrance of wild flowers didn't interest him either. He was tired, hungry, and needed to use the bathroom.

                The aircraft he was sitting in was draughty and uncomfortable. The engines sounded like a pig breaking wind through a trumpet. It rattled like a wonky-wheeled cart travelling across a cobbled street and stunk like a blocked toilet. Klaus hated being stuck inside the flying tin bird, but he hated the idea of having to jump out even more.

                A sudden thought struck Klaus as he adjusted the straps on his parachute. How could he be certain it would open? You can't test parachutes. Even if you could, how do you know the person packed it back correctly? He looked at the other men onboard. He then glanced at the man opposite. The man growled at him. Klaus turned away, suddenly remembering what he was in this mess.

Klaus sat outside General Mendler's office. He'd been sitting there for nearly an hour. If he had known, he would have visited the bathroom first. He glanced at the woman behind the desk opposite. She looked up and Klaus gave her a wonky smile. She sneered at him, then returned her attention back to typing.

                Another twenty minutes passed and Klaus decided he couldn't stand it any longer. He stood up and went to ask if he could use the bathroom. But just as he did, the phone rang, and the secretary picked it up. Without saying a word, she listened, then replaced the receiver. 'General Mendler will see you now.'

                'Would it be all right if I use the bathroom first?'

                The secretary rolled her eyes upwards and pointed at the door opposite.

                'Thank you,' said Klaus and clicked his heels.

                On entering the room, Klaus immediately began unbuttoning his trousers. He turned, expecting to see a toilet, but there wasn't one. Instead, there was a man sitting behind a desk, staring at him. Klaus stared back, then quickly buttoned up his trousers. 'I take it this isn't the bathroom?' he said, glancing around the room.

                Maps covered the walls, and hanging behind the man was a flag. On his desk was a framed photograph. Klaus picked it up and grinned. The image showed an angry-looking man with a silly moustache. 'Ah, Charlie Chaplin, he's funny, isn't he? I've seen all his films.'

The man's monocle fell out of his eye socket and dangled from its chain. Klaus noticed his expression and pointed at him. 'Herr General?' The man nodded slowly. Klaus gulped and clicked his heels. 'Private Klaus. You wanted to see me, Herr General?'

                General Mendler popped his monocle back into his eye socket and leant back in his chair. He then took a silver case from his jacket pocket. Still peering at Klaus, he removed a cigarette and lit it.

                Klaus hadn't met General Mendler face to face before. He was, however, aware of his reputation. Judging by his looks, the rumours were probably true. He had a shaved head, pointy nose and a large scar across his left cheek. His eyes were dark and menacing. He reminded Klaus of his physical education teacher from school. Klaus hated physical education nearly as much as he hated being in the army.

                'Until this afternoon, I wasn't aware of your existence,' said General Mendler.

                Klaus opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and shut it again.

                'Your commanding officer informed me you tried to blow up your platoon!'

                Klaus's cheeks flushed red. 'That's not strictly true, Herr General.'