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and pushed the soldier upward with all his might, resting the head momentarily on the narrow metal edge of the window frame. Not until Bryan released his grip and the body flapped passively through the air and plunged through the thin ice of a drainage canal did the truth dawn on him.
    From here on there was no return to innocence.
    James quickly moved to the other side of the bed and took the next patient’s pulse. Then he repeated the procedure, tipping the man forward.
    Without a word, Bryan took hold of the body and tossed the blanket to the floor. This man was not bandaged and was slightly smaller and stockier than the previous one.
    ‘But he’s not dead,’ Bryan objected, hugging the warm body as James pushed the man’s arm back and up, staring at his armpit.
    ‘Blood type A-positive. Remember that, Bryan!’ Two faint markings in the armpit revealed the work of a tattooist.
    ‘What do you mean, James?’
    ‘That you resemble him more than I do, and that from now on you’re blood type A-positive. All SS officers have their blood group tattooed in their left armpit and most of them have the SS sign in the right one.’
    Bryan stopped short. ‘You’re mad! They’ll discover us instantly!’
    James didn’t react. He flipped up the two bed charts and studied them in turn. ‘Your name is Arno von der Leyen. You’re an
oberführer
. I’m Gerhart Peuckert. Remember that!’
    Bryan stared at James incredulously.
    ‘
Oberführer
! Yes, you heard right.’ James looked serious. ‘And I’m a
standartenführer
. We’ve risen in the ranks, Bryan!’
    A few moments after they’d undressed and let their clothes disappear the same way as the two soldiers, the sudden rushing sound of wind from a nearby house told them they had passed a level crossing.
    ‘Take it off,’ said James, pointing at the identity tag that had been hanging on Bryan’s chest for over four years.
    Bryan hesitated. James tore the tag off with a quick jerk. Bryan had a sinking feeling as James flung the two tags out into emptiness and closed the window.
    ‘What about Jill’s scarf?’ said Bryan, pointing at the silk cloth with its embroidered heart that was still hanging around James’ neck. James didn’t reply. Instead, he pulled the hospital shirt he had taken off the dead man over his head.
    Still expressionless, James flung one leg over the excrement-littered bed and lay down on top of it. Taking a deep breath, he collected himself, stared briefly at the ceiling and without turning his head, whispered, ‘OK. So far, so good. Now we lie here, get it? No one knows who we are and we’re not going to tell them. Whatever happens, remember to keep your bloody mouth shut! One single slip and it’ll be the end for both of us.’
    ‘You needn’t tell me that, dammit!’ Bryan looked with displeasure at the stained sheet. It felt damp as he lay down. ‘I’d rather you told me what you think the orderlies will say when they see us. We can’t fool them, James.’
    ‘If you just keep your mouth shut and pretend to be unconscious they won’t suspect anything, don’t worry. There are probably more than a thousand wounded men on this train.’
    ‘The ones in here seem to be special…’
    A clanking metallic sound from the carriage in front made them stop short and shut their eyes. The sound of steps grew louder, passed them by and continued into the next carriage. Bryan opened his eyes a fraction and caught a glimpse of a uniform as the figure disappeared.
    ‘What about those needles?’ Bryan said quietly. James glanced over his shoulder. The rubber tubing hung limply beside the bed. ‘You won’t get me to stick one of those in my arm.’
    The expression on James’ face sent shivers down his spine.
    James was out of bed without a sound and grabbed hold of Bryan’s arm. Bryan stared wildly at him. ‘No, you don’t!’ he hissed, horrified. ‘We have no idea what was wrong with those soldiers. It might be dangerous!’ A second