A Brief Encounter.

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        Richard Stafford MS RPDF        05/05/2007

A Brief Encounter

The sun was beaming down onto the hills of Konstanz, a small and low-lying village, very close to the border with Switzerland. The men were walking to the station. They had been walking a long way and were very tired. It was late in the evening. They stopped off at a small café where they ordered some water and some crisps each. They paid and walked the final few metres until they arrived at the small and derelict station. There, they were stopped by a small group of soldiers, wearing their green, olive-coloured suits. They asked the men for their papers. The men handed their tatty papers over very reluctantly. They checked the papers and then told the exhausted men that they were not allowed to cross and that they had to see the general of the area.

The tired men slowly walked the few steps across the battered platform, accompanied by the tired soldiers. On the other side of road, there was a small, brick-walled hut. They walked slowly up to it. Inside the general was reading the local newspaper, slouched back in his leather chair.

‘Ah, hello,’ he said calmly.

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They did not respond but looked around the little building. On the wall, there were lots of photographs of the squadrons in which he must have trained as a pilot.

‘You know that there are a group of fugitives from a German concentration camp, where are you from?’ he said.

‘We come from France. We are going to Zurich to greet our friends from school,’ Francois said.

‘You are the fugitives, aren’t you?’ he said, ‘you have caused us enough trouble.’

‘We are not the…’

‘Yes you are,’ he said interrupting, ‘we have been told by General Heimlich back in ...

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