David was often distracted by thoughts during the winery tour, and as soon as he could gracefully pull himself away, he headed down to the men's mess to learn the latest version of the plan.

Georg referred often to the map as he outlined the complexities of the operation, and he concluded with, "So as it sits now, we'll need only five cars. One for this one outside Worms and one for each of the pairs at Mannheim, Speyer, Germersheim and Karlsruhe." He tapped on each location. "We'll cut the fuses to give ample time for us to leave the area without appearing in a rush."

David nodded. "Yes, better this way. Leave the cars in busy areas or in inconspicuous places five-minute walks or more from the sites. There must be no need to rush any of this, neither to the cars nor on the drive to pick up the partner nor while heading away from the river."

"Exactly! We'll calculate the fuse lengths by the time needed to walk to the car or to the pick-up place." Georg lifted his watch. "And each will be ignited at a time determined by its length. If we plan and execute properly, there will be nine near-simultaneous explosions, and when they blow, our cars will be five or more kilometres away from the sites."

"But still within sound range, and the fires will be visible." David pursed his lips, stroking his beard as he paused to think. "Others would likely stop to look, so it would appear odd if you didn't. With this, we must make an exception to the rule to not pause and look back."

"I think only if we see others stopped and looking." Georg shrugged. "We will be mostly on small roads with little traffic, so we may well find no need to conform to others' activities."

"Ah, but it would appear strange for you to be driving away with no apparent concern when you encounter people stopped and looking. Or others driving toward the conflagrations."

"True." Georg bobbed his head. "Best we react as any curious person would. When we hear the blasts, we'll stop and get out of the car and stand, gawking like most will. And don't withhold engaging in conversation with anyone near. Act concerned and worried."

"Like some of the things we talked about." Dolf chuckled. "Find a way to start rumours of it being bombs dropped from huge inflated airships from France or Britain."

"I like that." David smiled at Dolf. "What were the other rumour ideas?"

"Hans thought we might start a story about recently seeing a lot of cars in the area with VI number plates. Plant the idea that they could be French sympathisers from the Alsace and Lorraine, and –"

Georg interrupted. "Dolf! We must remember to always refer to them as Elsass and Lorthingen, or else we will be suspected as sympathisers ourselves."

Dolf reddened as he nodded. "To be safe, I'll stick to my story about the silent airships hiding among the clouds and dropping bombs."

The group continued their discussion, examining ideas and questions as they arose and refining the plan. When David sensed nothing new was being added, he said, "Right! We'll leave this for the moment. Run it through your minds from time to time to see if there are any flaws or if anything might be improved. We'll discuss these tomorrow."

Hans asked, "Might we have Maria come again and speak with us? Both Greg and I have questions from our trip, and I'm sure her answers would benefit us all."

"Yes, of course. She had asked if she could, and I told her to wait until after we have bashed a plan into shape." He pointed to the map. "I think we have now done that."

Hans glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes to four. Ask her if she would like to join us for tea."

David chuckled. "She suggested I try to arrange that."

<><><>

At precisely four, David and Maria were welcomed into the mess, and as they entered, she said, "Ooh! I smell strong coffee and fresh baking."

"I'm doing baking powder biscuits," Greg said as he showed her to a chair at the head of the table and held it while she sat. "Just about ready to come out of the oven."

David sat beside her, and once they had settled, the others regained their seats while Hans poured coffee. Greg arrived less than a minute later with two baskets of biscuits, and as he set them down, he pointed to the four bowls. "Those two are plum preserves, and those are cherry."

Maria reached across to the nearer basket, took a biscuit and juggled it in her hands onto her plate. "Hot." She split it and placed a large dollop of butter on each half to melt in, and then she looked up at Hans and Greg. "So, David tells me you have questions. Which of you wishes to start?"

"I will." Hans raised his hand. "I met a widow. Only twenty-one and a widow." He shook his head. "Her husband was killed in the first months of the war, a year and a half ago. She told me that when the depth of her grief eased, she began looking for another husband. The only men she saw were old or infirm."

Maria winced. "That must be common up there. All the young men away at the front."

"Or dead or injured. And many are prisoners." Hans sighed. "For two days, she released her pent-up passions with me, both verbally and physically."

"That don't seem like no problem," Manny shrugged. "I thought you was gonna ask questions about sex and stuff."

"Patience, Manny. I'm getting there. The third night, she refused, saying she was unclean."

Maria paused her spoon of cherry preserves above a biscuit half. "It might be that she was thinking of the old attitude about being a widow, the one about being used goods."

Hans lifted his thumb to his mouth and licked and sucked. "Not by the way she gobbled my sausage. Seems she couldn't get enough of it."

Maria nodded. "Was she embarrassed by her monthly bleeding?"

"I gathered that from her behaviour. She said it was filthy and that she shouldn't be with me in this condition. I told her I've never considered it as dirty or needing hiding. So my question is, am I wrong, or is she?"

"You have the correct attitude about it, Hans." She looked up from spreading the preserves. "Those are old attitudes with no validity."

Hans nodded. "Attitudes taught to her by misguided people. She bared her breasts and encouraged me to pleasure them, but I was forbidden below. I asked if I could play with her button and –"

Manny interrupted, "Her belly button? Does that turn them on?"

Loud laughs came from several and chuckles from others while Maria and David stifled theirs. Maria dabbed her eyes, then said, "The button we're talking about is the small nub near the top of a woman's cleft. Think of where your penis comes out of your pubes; the button, clitoris, kitzler is in the same position. And it is essentially the same structure, only much smaller. But it is more sensitive than the penis."

Manny blushed. "I ain't never gone there. Just shove it in and pump."

"This is a common behaviour, Manny. But pause to consider that women don't reach orgasm from inside. Rather, it's –"

"Orgasm? What's that?"

"An explosive release, similar to when you climax, but more intense."

"Oh! I ain't never seen a shie ... a woman do that."

"If you've done nothing but shove it in, as you say, then you wouldn't have. Women orgasm from manipulation of the clitoris, not from penetration."

Manny nodded. "That's why they's always jiggling their hands down there."

"Yes, but if you move so that your shaft has contact with it every few strokes, they wouldn't be frustrated with the lack of attention from you, and they wouldn't have to diddle so much." Maria shrugged. "And if you allow her to be on top, she has much more control over her pleasure. She can control both the contact and the speed to suit her own needs."

Maria glanced down at her biscuit, paused, then continued, "It takes much longer for most women to reach orgasm than it does for men, and it most often involves factors other than just the physical. Part of that is sensing you're with her for more than your own pleasure." She looked again at the loaded biscuit and chuckled. "Let me take a few bites first, then we'll resume."

After she had enjoyed two huge bites and some sips of coffee, she looked up and grinned. "Remember, I'm two and a half months pregnant, and I'm well into the strange cravings phase – another part of the complexity of being a woman."