He didn’t give me empty words of assurance, merely rubbed his thumb gently across my cheek, wiping away my tear.

‘Eat up before it gets cold,’ he said softly.

*

It was from my mother that I learnt of the Americans reaching the German border, just outside Trier. My grandmother had called her before pandemonium broke out. She and my grandfather planned to stay in Trier and weather the storm. There was nowhere they could go anyway, with rail services disrupted and roads closed. Mutti was upset but matter of fact about it. They had all been through this once before. I was angry. My grandparents were elderly and didn’t deserve to go through a trauma like this. They lived peacefully in their home and had done nothing wrong.

The reality was that Germany could fall, invaded by the Allies and the Russians. All we could hope for was that the Americans reached us before the Russians; we had heard terrible stories of what the Russians were capable of. Perhaps our only hope was the release of the new aircraft we had been waiting for. Of course, the greatest problem was finding fuel, as we no longer had any access to the oil fields of the Crimea and our synthetic fuel plants were a major target of the American and British bombing raids.

My impotent rage made no difference to anyone. I decided to channel my fear for Heinrich and my grandparents and my deep anger into my work, working harder and longer than ever.

Everything now seemed to move at a rapid pace. Due to the changing structure within high command, all units were in flux, assuming new roles and moving locations. Our sphere of influence was shrinking. Many units were called back to Germany for the Defence of the Reich, but not Heinrich’s. A new army of youth and the elderly was created, the Volkssturm, charged with defending our homeland. Herr Schmitt came to tell us he had been conscripted, as had his grandson. I stared at him in shock. How had we been reduced to seeking protection from such an inappropriate, untrained force? Tears welled in my eyes as I hugged Herr Schmitt goodbye, adding another good man and his grandson to my nightly prayers.

Many in the Luftwaffe now pinned their hopes on the new generation of aircraft that was rolling off the production lines, finally ready for mass release. We were very excited to have the lion’s share of these aircraft in our district, along with the prestigious team of aces to pilot them. All aircraft were prepared for a large scale offensive against the West.

Our work was frantic and I accompanied the oberinspektor to the various airfields. With his expertise in aeronautic engineering and the new jet engines, he took a more hands-on role, liaising with local command to determine the needs of each airfield in relation to the new aircraft. We spent a lot of time at Neubiberg, just south of München, where a large contingent of the Me 262 fighter jets was to be based. We also travelled to Riem, Schleissheim and Erding, and the large airpark at Illesheim, west of Nürnberg, where much of the area’s airfields’ refitting, conversions and repairs took place. Sometimes it meant staying in the airfield barracks overnight, much to my mother’s objections, although Vati assured her I was safe.

Moves were made to relocate our regional command office. We had to remain operational but it was risky to stay in the centre of München with the continuous bombing raids. So, when we weren’t in the field, we were reorganising our office, getting ready for the move. With the restructuring of roles came a promotion for the oberinspektor. There was no time for ceremony, just an official letter stating his new rank of hauptinspektor along with the new duties he had already undertaken. Hauptinspektor Drescher was now directly answerable to Colonel von Wissenbach, and as I remained his secretary, Bettina and I often worked closely together.

‘I can’t believe he’s not celebrating. Promotions like this don’t come every day,’ said Bettina when I told her the good news, walking to the Englischer Garten for a few minutes of fresh air.

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Work’s too busy to celebrate.’ As we stood waiting to cross Prinzregentenstrasse, a sleek black Mercedes-Benz drove past flying a swastika. It was a sight we saw most days, the to and fro of party and government officials becoming more frantic with the escalation of the war. An old man leered at us from inside the car. Bettina and I stepped back from the kerb in response, grimacing in distaste before darting across the busy boulevard and laughing.

‘I think he’s the quiet type anyway,’ I said, finishing my thought as we entered the park.

Bettina laughed. ‘Quiet? That’s not what I heard. Although, he has settled considerably since you’ve arrived.’ She looked at me speculatively, her eyes questioning.

‘What?’ I stopped under a maple tree, its leaves a golden yellow.

‘Maybe he’ll celebrate with you… It could be you’re a good influence on him.’

‘Don’t be silly. He’s just professional. I wouldn’t expect anything else from someone in his position.’

‘I don’t know,’ Bettina persisted, taking the rare opportunity to tease me.

I started walking again. ‘Look, I know what you heard, but I don’t think he’s really like that. From what I’ve gathered, he’s hit a bad patch in his marriage. I don’t think he was on good terms with his wife when he left for his job here in München.’

‘Mmm, maybe. But I still think it’s because of you.’

I could feel my face go red. ‘It’s just that I work hard and make his job easier. Besides, I’ve spent quite a lot of time with him out of the office now, travelling to the airfields, and he has never been anything but respectful, courteous and reserved.’

‘All right,’ said Bettina, holding up her hands. ‘See if you can persuade him to celebrate this evening. I’m sure we can find something special from the staff kitchen, and I know where we can find some champagne. Otherwise, we’ll celebrate the fact that you and I will be working a lot more with the girls anyway.’

‘I’ll try to persuade him but I don’t like our chances.’

To my surprise, it didn’t take too much to make the hauptinspektor stay. He was working anyway, so we just brought the party to him. When it became known that there was food and drink, many of our department staff joined us. Even Colonel von Wissenbach stopped by for a drink and to pass on his congratulations. Bettina didn’t just find a bottle or two of champagne, but a whole case. I don’t know how she did it, she wouldn’t tell me. It was wonderful to laugh and relax for a change and to see the sociable side of those we worked with.

Once the food ran out, people began to drift away. Soon it was just Bettina, the hauptinspektor and I. Since we’d thrown the party, I felt we had to stay to clean up. I’d had more champagne than I should have but I didn’t feel like going home yet.

‘Time for bed,’ said the hauptinspektor, yawning, lounging back in one of the office chairs.

‘Yes, it is getting late,’ I said, clearing away the last glasses.

‘I’ll walk you both home. I could do with the fresh air. That’s the most I’ve had to drink in a long while.’

‘Well, it was your celebration,’ said Bettina, flashing a brilliant smile. ‘I’d be upset if you didn’t enjoy yourself. Lotte and I went to a lot of trouble, after all.’

‘Thank you,’ said the hauptinspektor quietly. ‘I didn’t expect anything like this. Nobody has thrown me a party since I was a boy.’

‘What about your other promotions? Surely your family or work colleagues did something for you?’ said Bettina, replacing the chairs to their original positions.

‘A couple of drinks with the boys after work, but nothing like this.’

Bettina frowned at the revelation and shot a quick look at me, as if to say, ‘Maybe you were right about him.’ I could see that he looked wistful, almost sad, but he quickly shook off his reverie.

‘Come on then, otherwise it will almost be time to come back.’

After dropping Bettina home in Altstadt, the hauptinspektor and I walked through Max-Joseph-Platz. I had been here many times before but now the majestic Königsbau, the royal residence that edged the square, and the Byzantine court church nestled alongside sat in the darkness, eerie reminders of the war and casualties of the recent bombings. The gutted façade of the National Theatre stood in front of me, destroyed in the bombings of the year before. As we passed the monument of King Maximilian Joseph, I wondered what he would think of the destruction of his glorious city.

Passing the silhouette of the main building of the university, desolate and damaged, made me think of Heinrich and all the times I met him under the beautiful domed glass ceiling that filled the atrium with light. Everything seemed simpler then. Now the world was turned on its head, the city a shadow of its former self. I missed those days and it made me ache for Heinrich. Feeling melancholy, I sighed.

‘Something wrong?’ asked the hauptinspektor, breaking the silence, a flicker of light glowing in the dark as he lit a cigarette.

‘It’s hard to see the city like this,’ I said, glad we had something to talk about. ‘How much more destruction before this is all over?’

‘I don’t know. I wish you could see where I come from in Silesia. Grottkau is a beautiful medieval town, perhaps as old as München but not as big, surrounded by the Silesian lowlands, river flats of the Oder River. I sometimes wonder if I will ever see it again as it was when I left it as a young man.’

‘Do you still have family there?’

‘My parents. My father has a furniture shop in the town.’ He drew on his cigarette, the end illuminated in the night.