David and Bryce carried on a lively discussion as they headed out of Bienne and wound their way toward the Aare Valley. After they had crossed the bridge and turned to follow the river downstream, Bryce said, "One thing still puzzles me."

"Only one?"

"For now. Hans. He speaks English very fluently for a Swiss."

"Yes, born in Bavaria, he moved to London in 1903 to work with a watch distributor. Two years later, he founded his own watch company, and later, naturalised as a British citizen."

"If he sees so much and understands so much, why has R not drawn him further in?"

David kept his eyes ahead. "Because Hans is most useful exactly where he is. He provides without needing the whole. And if he knew the whole, he'd have to carry its dangers as well as its privileges."

"Would he object to that?"

"No. Which is one reason he must not be asked."

Bryce was quiet for a while after that. Then, he asked, "Why is he now here in Switzerland?"

"As the war intensified, insults and accusations about his German heritage grew, so he changed the watch name from Wilsdorf to Rolex. But word had already spread among the upper classes, who were his main business. To add to that, rapidly rising British import duties on watch components lowered his margins, so he relocated his works here, beside the movement manufacturer."

"Deflating both problems at once. Start fresh, the big picture first, the details later."

David glanced at him and smiled. "Three problems – also save the shipping costs. But yes, fresh is often better than trying to fix what's broken."

For the next three hours, David alternated briefing and explanation with commentary on the passing scene as they drove beside the Aare, through Brugg and down to the junction with the Rhine at Koblenz. Once they were on the road eastward, he pointed across the river. "That's Germany, and those are the mountains of the Black Forest."

Bryce nodded. "A fine natural boundary, and easy to defend against the entry of saboteurs and espionage agents."

"Yes, but their main concern is the exit of deserters." David nodded over his shoulder, then pointed ahead. "There are two bulges of Switzerland across the Rhine into the German side, one back there at Basel, and the other upstream at Schaffhausen. Both date to the Middle Ages as dispute settlements and loyalty shifts among noble families."

David paused and grimaced. "My initial escape plan was to step across from the forested road east of Weil-am-Rhein. Fortunately – for me, not him – as I changed from the German uniform into street clothes, a deserter crossed the split-rail fence, tripped bell wires, and alerted the guards. He was shot dead as he headed into Switzerland."

"Close. Too close."

"Indeed, it was late evening, and I spent a fitful night on the wooded slopes above the road. But it turned out well. The next morning, I made my way north to Freiburg and took a room in a gasthaus to regroup. As I outfitted myself for the crossing of the Black Forest mountains to the border bulge of Schaffhausen, Maria served my dinner."

Bryce nodded. "I remember you relating that during OTC at Oxford, but I never asked – why was a Swiss woman in Germany?"

"Her family had moved there ten years before, to make wine on the Kaiserstuhl, west of Freiburg. Her father and two brothers were killed early in the war, leaving only Maria and her mother, Rachel."

David continued the story of their eleven-day adventure as they escaped over the mountains to Erzingen. "The eastern edge of the town lies along the Swiss border, and Rachel's Aunt Bethia owned a slaughterhouse and sausage works there. Also, she had vineyards that extended across the border."

"Aha, the tunnel."

"Yes." David nodded toward the windscreen. "But let me concentrate on making our way through Schaffhausen. You'll see the whole setup when we reach Sonnenhang."

As they drove westward out of the city, David continued, "Initially, the tunnel linked the vineyard tool huts on either side of the border, but both were in plain sight of the German border post. We had to disguise the movement of explosives and teams with vineyard work – pruning and so on."

"But it enabled you to blow the railways."

"Yes, but when R changed our mission – requiring many more crossings, we extended the tunnel to a new tool hut up the slopes toward the schloss, away from German eyes."

"Aha. And that's what the sappers are working at now."

"No, we completed that in April. They're now extending the lower end of the tunnel into the walled courtyard of Bethia's former home, sausage works and metzgerei in Erzingen."

"Metzgerei?"

"Her butcher shop. She now keeps it open only as a delicatessen. It's a huge house, and it will serve as a staging place for our activities in Germany."

David continued unfolding details, then as they crested a ridge, he slowed the car and nodded toward the windscreen. "There it is – Sonnenhang."

Bryce looked out across the vineyards, the scattered outbuildings and the ancient schloss beyond. "Good God!"

David smiled at him. "Yes. That was more or less my reaction the first time."

"And from here you run a covert war?"

"From here, from Bern, from Bienne, and from a few other places. But yes, it began here."

They drove down the winding lane, then up the gentle slope toward the schloss, and as they entered the courtyard, Rachel came from the winery door, wiping her hands on her apron. She paused at seeing the unfamiliar passenger, then smiled. "You're later than I'd anticipated, David. And this must be the new aide."

David stepped from the car. "Rachel, this is Major Bryce Tompkins. Bryce, this is Maria's mother, Rachel Meier."

After the greetings, Rachel looked past them toward the stable. "Georg and Gerrard are at the tunnel. They sent word an hour ago – very close now. Bethia is in the kitchen pretending not to watch the clock. And the first few of your lads are in the mess room with Karl and Horst, comparing notes."

"How many have returned?" David asked.

"Seven so far. We expect more through the evening."

"Good." He nodded toward the house. "We'll take Bryce in, get him settled and then join them."

Rachel smiled knowingly. "You mean after Tante has fed you. No one joins anything here before that."

A short while later, after greetings with Bethia and a hasty tea with shortbread in the kitchen, David led Bryce across the courtyard and into the converted carriage house that served as the men's mess.

The seven men rose as they entered, and David waved them down again. "No need. We've all had enough formality." He turned to Bryce, then pointed. "You know Karl and Horst by name. The rest you've not yet met, so let's fix that."

After the remaining introductions, David looked around the room at the marked maps, notebooks, and newspapers spread across the tables. "I see you're already into debriefing, so give us an overview, the pattern first, not the anecdotes. We'll come to those after."

Karl glanced at his notes and began, "The broad pattern is as expected, David. In the rural districts, the women are more suspicious at first than those in the industrial areas, but once confidence is gained, they speak more deeply and with less restraint. The shortages are worse than they're led to believe by the papers, and the bitterness against the Army is stronger."

Horst nodded and took it on. "Especially where their horses have been requisitioned and where fertiliser is impossible to find. They anticipate far poorer crops this year, both in quality and yield. A common theme is that officials know nothing about the land. One woman said openly that Berlin might as well be the moon."

Bryce's eyebrows rose, and David glanced at him with a faint smile before asking, "And the war itself?"

One of the younger men leaned forward. "More distant in speech than in feeling. They often begin with food, prices, absent husbands or sons, and only later arrive at the war. But when they do, the anger is there. Not dramatic – not at first. More weary. More like rot than fire."

David nodded. "Good. Very good. And among the men?"

A heavy silence followed until Horst said, "Harder. Much harder. Suspicion comes quicker, and grievance doesn't make them more open – only harsher. A few were receptive, but most either repeated the official line or wanted only to complain without hearing anything in return."

"As expected. So we continue placing the emphasis on women." David pointed toward the newspapers spread on the nearer table. "What about the propaganda? Did the women repeat it?"

"At first, yes," one of the others said. "Especially the older lines – that Germany was forced into the war, that victory is near, that sacrifice is noble. But they repeat these more from habit than conviction. It takes very little to make them qualify what they've just said."

"Such as?" Bryce asked.

The man shrugged. "A question. A look of doubt. Mentioning that Switzerland seems peaceful and well-fed. Mentioning the new unavailability of newspapers from there. Saying that if victory is so near, it's strange how increasingly younger boys and older men are being called up."

David nodded slowly. "Excellent. Those are the openings. Quiet ones. What else?"

Another of the men picked up the thread. "The women often speak more bitterly about the officials who take their crops than they do about the enemy who kills."

"Because the enemy is abstract until he takes a husband or son," David said. "The officials are there every week, taking horses, grain, cattle or boys."

Bryce looked from speaker to speaker. "And the women speak this openly to strangers?"

Horst shook his head. "Not openly. Not at first. That's the point. They circle toward it. The trick is not to press. If we press, they retreat. If we let them move at their own speed, they tell us more than we hoped."

"Good. Then the training here was –" David paused at the sound of rising clamour out in the courtyard. A loud shout, then another, and the sound of boots running on stone.

He turned and opened the door, just as Georg's voice rang out above the others, "David! You're here. They've just broken through!"

For a heartbeat, the room held still. Then chairs scraped, voices rose, and David looked at Bryce with a quick grin. "You've arrived at the right moment. Come. Now you'll see the pointy end properly."

And with the men already surging toward the courtyard, they went out into the gathering evening toward the vineyards and the tunnel entrance.