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Her fingers curled and squeezed, and he interpreted the gesture as one that meant his jolly-hockey-sticks bedmate really did want children.
    He thought later about the two Commandos taken prisoner during the raid on Sicily. The Germans had reported to the Red Cross that they were shot while attempting to escape. Tim and Colonel Lucas, when learning of that, both expressed doubt and suspicion. Shot while attempting to escape was becoming too commonplace.
    They would have known the truth if they had seen a copy of Hitler’s top-secret Commando Decree issued in October 1942.
    ‘ I order that from now on all opponents engaged in so-called Commando operations in Europe or Africa, even when it is outwardly a matter of soldiers in uniform or demolitions parties with or without weapons, are to be exterminated to the last man in battle or while in flight. Should any of these individuals, on being discovered, make as if to surrender, all quarter is to be denied on principle … ’
    In other words, shoot all Commando prisoners.
    This from a man who was constantly declaring what an honour it was to be German.

Chapter Five
    MRS POLLY ADAMS WAS still living in Dorset, but her husband, Boots, had departed over a year ago for North Africa with the corps formerly under the command of General Sir Henry Simms, Polly’s father. Sir Henry had been forced to relinquish that command because of ill-health, but incorrigible in his persistence once he’d recovered, he secured an appointment in an advisory role at the War Office. It was a desk job, but he was listened to on occasions. He grumbled, of course. Lady Simms, as energetic as ever in her work for the Red Cross, patted him, soothed him, and sometimes drove him to Dorset to see Polly and her twins, his grandchildren. He missed the daily contact he’d enjoyed with Boots, his logistics expert, and he missed the man. So did Polly.
    The corps under the command of Lieutenant-General Montrose had played its part in the Tunisian campaign, which ended in the complete defeat of the Axis armies, and was marked by a victory parade through the streets of the Tunisian capital. In a letter to Polly, Boots referred to a well -attended fête at which bands played rousingly but couldn’t quite make up for the absence of Women’s Institute stalls selling homemade jams and marmalade. Polly guessed what he meant by a well-attended fête, and that told her exactly where he was at the time.
    Hitler was furious with the German surrender. It did not accord with his uncompromising demand that in any losing situation, German soldiers should fight until the last man was dead. Mussolini didn’t make such demands of his Italian troops, who surrendered happily. The Allies subsequently used their battle-hardened North African armies to invade and conquer Sicily. This was followed by an invasion of Italy itself, when the Italian Government immediately made peace with the Allies and gave Mussolini the order of the boot. Incensed by this treatment of his portly Italian partner, Hitler sent hordes of German troops into Italy to occupy it and to defend it against the invaders. They were unable to prevent the Allies securing a foothold, however, and since then the fighting had been bitter.
    The corps in which Boots was serving as a staff officer was now part of the British Eighth Army in Italy. His letters, arriving at very irregular intervals, never said much about what was happening. However, Polly knew from wireless broadcasts that the Americans, British, Poles, Canadians and Free French forces were presently locked in titanic battles with the Germans who, to give them their due, were always the toughest of soldiers.
    She endured nail-biting moments thinking of Boots all too close to the costly fighting around Monte Cassino, never mind that he was a staff officer. His last letter, as usual, gave no details of military events. He kept mainly to personal and family matters, most of which related to his attachment to her,