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a base fashioned from a hand-grenade. He would stare at one of the soldiers standing to attention in front of him and suddenly shout out:
    'You, jump out of the window!'
    God forgive the soldier who hesitated to run to the window, fling it open and start climbing out. The office was on the third floor. At the last moment the little officer's voice would say:
    'Good, good, get away from that window!'
    Or he would come into a room silent as a cat (his boots were rubber-soled). The door would open, and, in a voice mild yet like a whiplash, he would say:
    'Now then, hand-stands!'
    The name of anyone unable to stand on his hands was carefully taken note of in the little grey-covered book he carried in his left breast-pocket. He wrote in beautiful script, using the culprit's back as a table. Next day the poor devil would get a week's punishment drill.
    Pluto and I were chatting as we strolled carelessly on our long tour round the barracks area. Pluto had a cigarette in his mouth. It was short enough for him to tip backwards into his mouth - a trick at which he was adept - should sudden concealment be necessary. He kicked the lock of an ammunition box. To his great delight it opened. This would cause great trouble for No. 4 Company next day when we reported the lock out of order.
    Behind the parade halls he spat out his microscopic butt-end. It landed on the dry grass. We stood awhile hoping that the grass would burst into flame and lighten the monotony of our patrol.
    We walked on with slow measured steps. Our fixed bayonets blinked with evil flashes. We had not gone far when someone shot up in front of us. At once we both knew it could be nobody but Colonel von Weisshagen. He looked like a black teacosy in his hat and overcoat.
    Pluto bellowed the password: ' Gneissenau ', and it rang all over the depot. Then there was a silence for a few seconds until Pluto roared again:
    'Obergefreiter Eicken and Fahnenjunkergefreiter Hassel, detailed for sentry-duty carrying out patrol in the barracks area. According to regulations the papers of the Herr Oberstleutnant are required for inspection.'
    Silence.
    The leather coat rustled. One small gloved hand shot between the upper buttons and was quickly withdrawn. The next moment we were staring into the muzzle of his pistol. His well-known bland voice whistled at us:
    'What if I fired now?'
    At the same moment a shot cracked from Pluto's rifle, the bullet whined over the commandant's head knocking his hat off. Before he could recover from his surprise my bayonet was at his chest. Then Pluto placed his bayonet-point intimidatingly against the mannikin's neck. We took his pistol.
    'The Herr Oberstleutnant is required to put up his hands, or we fire!' he said silkily.
    I nearly started giggling. It sounded completely insane: 'The Oberstleutnant is required to put up his hands.' Only in the army could anyone behave so like an idiot.
    I pressed the bayonet firmly against his chest just to show him how eagerly we were carrying out our orders.
    'Nonsense,' he snapped. 'You both know me. Get your bayonets down and get on with your patrolling. Later I'll require you to make out a report about the shot fired.'
    'We do not know you, Herr Oberstleutnant. We only know that we have been threatened with a firearm during sentry-duty. We ask the Herr Oberstleutnant to accompany us to the guard-room,' Pluto answered with merciless politeness.
    Slowly we moved towards the guard-room despite heavy threats from the commandant. But we kept out bayonets at the ready.
    Our entry into the guard-room caused great commotion. Reinhardt who had been sleeping, sprang up and arranged himself in the required position of attention at the three regulation paces in front of the commander. In a shaking voice he shouted:
    'Attention! Unteroffizier Reinhardt detailed as guard commander humbly offers his report to the Herr Oberstleutnant: the guard consists of twenty men. Five on sentry duty with rifles. Two patrolling. Under arrest