Bern, Switzerland – Saturday, 13 May 1916

Sunlight streamed between the parted curtains into David's gasthaus room when another nightmare awakened him, trembling and clammy with sweat. His hands immediately went to check, then reassured all was still there, he began calming. As he lay recovering, he was relieved to have a morning hard. Still works. Not much added to the pain.

To not get his cuts wet, he knelt in the bathtub and washed with a cloth, thinking about the convenience of showers. After he bathed, changed the dressings and had a quick breakfast, he headed south.

Again, images of the interrogation room flooded his mind, repeatedly interrupting his enjoyment of the drive. His attempts to dwell on other topics were all defeated, and his telephone call from Basel to check on Greg's arrival had only made it worse.

Shortly before noon, the butler responded to his knock on the door of the Ambassador's residence. "Welcome back, Sir. Your wife has not long since returned from a walk, and she is upstairs."

"Thank you, Stanley. Please inform the Ambassador of my return and tell him I will see him at lunch."

"Very well, Sir."

David bounded up the stairs and along the hallway, knocked on the door and entered. Maria rose from the chaise longue and rushed toward him, meeting him in a tight embrace.

He trembled and began sobbing, and as Maria rose to her toes for a kiss, she paused and asked, "There were problems, weren't there?"

"Yeah." He nodded and blew out a deep breath.

"With the team? With you?"

He nodded again.

"Oh, God! What is it?"

He sniffled, then nuzzled his face into her hair and breathed a deep sigh. "I need to calm. To feel safe."

She pulled him closer. "You're safe now."

"Ummm." He continued the hug, caressing her back in silence for a brief while, then he shuddered again. "My mind won't allow me to feel that. It keeps going back."

"You need to talk it away, David. Like you've done with the other stuff. Ypres, the sniping, Windbag, the nun. Those don't bother you now."

David nodded and blew out another deep breath. "Yeah."

She rose to her toes, tilting her head up. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

Their lips met in a kiss, which was soon joined by renewed trembling. He lifted his head and shook it. "You'll have to help me through this."

Maria nodded toward the couch. "Take off your overcoat, and let's sit.

When they had settled on the couch, she laid her head on his chest and said, "So, tell me what disturbs you."

"Images of interrogation and torture." He shuddered. "Can't keep my mind off them." After pausing to blow out a deep breath, he continued, "Nightmares. Kept waking from them. Images of Franz and Ernst, and now of Greg."

"Greg?"

"He's still not back. I stopped in Basel and phoned Sonnenhang."

"But all the others?"

He nodded. "Otto arrived Thursday afternoon. Greg had been with him Wednesday night in Offenburg. Planned to be back on Thursday."

"Why didn't they stay together?"

"Security. It's safer to cross the border independently and by different routes and at different times. The chances of both being apprehended are far less this way."

"And if apprehended?"

"That's my nightmare. The images flooding my mind."

Maria grimaced. "From the man on the train to Paris last year?"

He winced his eyes closed. "That adds to it."

"And the reports you've read."

"And now the experience of it."

Maria had nodded as she listened, and then she bolted upright. "Oh, God! They didn't? Did they?" She moved her hand to his crotch to confirm the bulge.

"I managed to stop them before they cut it the rest of the way off."

"Oh, fuck! No!" She explored further, and then she blew out a held breath. "Everything seems to be here."

"A doctor sutured the severed flesh together. I need you to examine the wounds for any signs of infection." He unfastened his belt buckle and began on his buttons as Maria slid off the couch, turned and knelt to help pull his trousers down.

She took a quick look, then stood. "I must wash my hands and get some alcohol, water and cloths. Lay down. I'll be right back."

A little over a minute later, she returned and knelt again. "Lift your butt. Let's get this towel beneath you." Once it was in place, she undid the tape and removed the gauze. "I recognise the purple, but what's the orange?"

"Acri something. The tube's in my satchel. The doctor said it's the best topical they've found to fight infection."

Maria moved the skin around, breathing a loud sigh as she watched the stitches. "So, they cut only the integument, not into the deeper fascia or the corpora. I had visions of structural damage."

She wet a cloth with alcohol and gently washed the paste and iodine from around the cut. Then she dipped another cloth in water and dabbed the line of stitches clean. "These look fine. No redness. No swelling."

David hummed a sigh. "That's reassuring. Should you apply more of the paste?"

"Probably best I do. Before the war, their pharmaceuticals and medical care were the most advanced in the world. Likely still are. Where is it in your satchel?"

He glanced across the floor to it. "The smaller of the side pockets. There are rolls of gauze and tape there as well."

When she had applied more paste and wrapped a few loose layers of gauze around the stitches, she looked up, smiling. "Leave it slack like this for expansion. We should be able to remove the stitches in a week or so."

"You should check the other one?"

"Other one?"

"Under my foreskin. His first threat was to chop off my head before he moved further up."

"Fuck!" She quickly moved her hands to check. "Oh, God! Still there."

David winced at the pain. "Yeah, and very tender."

"Sorry." She withdrew his foreskin and unwound the gauze to reveal more purple and orange. After washing the area to clean it and to gain a better look, she carefully probed and moved the flesh around. "My palpation indicates this is also superficial, and the short sutures confirm it had been unnecessary to go deeper."

He blew out another held breath and sighed.

Maria applied Acriflavine from the tube, and then she rolled his foreskin over it. "There's no need for gauze; your skin is more hygienic and, I'm sure, a lot more comfortable."

"Such a huge relief. Not only the gauze. Knowing it's not going to rot away."

She leaned down and kissed it. "We'll soon have this working again as intended. Now, tell me how it happened."

David cringed.