had laughed at him and suggested that they would sooner have gone and played in Moscow. It wasn't, of course, Kaminheim that kept them away; it was him.
He had set up his playing board this evening after dinner in a corner of the dining room underneath one of the sconces, and these two cavalry officers were reconnoitering the terrain. It was the summer of 1870, and they were deciding whether this might be a good spot to try and force a battle with the French Army of the Rhine.
He heard his father and the naval officer named Oskar in the hallway walking toward Father's office, and he went very still. Oskar had small eyes, a high forehead, and almost no lips, but he was calm and intelligent and Theo knew that his parents respected him. He heard his father pushing the door shut, but it didn't close all the way and he could hear some of what they were saying if he didn't move. They were discussing, as the grownups did all the time these days, the Russian front, but it seemed that Oskar was talking as well about the attempt that summer on the life of the fuhrer. A few months earlier, in July, a group of officers had set off a bomb in the fuhrer's headquarters in Prussia. Hitler had survived, but it seemed the conspiracy was extensive. Even now, months later, the SS was still rounding up individuals who were involved. At school and among the Jungvolk, people referred to those officers as traitors and discussed with undisguised glee how cowardly they had been when they were executed for their crime, but Theo had the sense when the subject came up at dinner that his parents believed the plotters had only had Germany's best interests in mind.
It seemed, from what Theo could hear, that Oskar did, too.
"The problem," the officer was telling his father now, "is that we can't win the war. But we can't negotiate a peace now because of what some of Hitler's lackeys have done."
"A negotiated peace was never an option. Churchill and Roosevelt said years ago they would only accept a complete surrender," his father said.
"We are speaking in confidence, true?"
"Of course."
"Have you heard about the camps?"
"I've heard whispers."
"When the Russians find them? Or the Americans and the Brits? There will be hell to pay."
"Tell me: What do you know?"
Suddenly Theo's heart was beating fast in his chest, in part because his father and this officer were discussing the possibility that Germany might actually lose the war, and in part because of whatever it was that Oskar was about to reveal. Before the officer had continued, however, there were great whoops of laughter and the sound of the front door swinging open. He felt a rush of cool air. Two of the other naval officers, Oskar's friends, had come inside, and then he heard Anna and Mutti greeting them and helping them off with their coats. Any moment now they would bring that giant Scotsman in from the bunkhouse and hand him the accordion, and everyone would start dancing. No doubt, one of Anna's friends had arrived with the officers. The two men had probably been off somewhere picking her up.
His father and Oskar emerged from the office, and Oskar greeted his associates. His father noticed him now on the floor and knelt beside him.
"I didn't hear you out here," he said, and he rubbed the top of his head. "Have you been playing long?"
He had the sense that he would worry his father if he told him that he had. And his father had worries enough right now.
"No. I just sat down," he answered.
This seemed to make his father happy. He motioned down at the cavalrymen. "The battle of Mars-la-Tour?" he asked.
"I hadn't decided."
"Oskar reminded me of a book I think you're old enough to read now. It has a wonderful description of Von Bredow's Death Ride and the Prussian cavalry charge. Would you like me to see if I can find you a copy?"
"Yes, thank you."
Over their shoulder one of the officers was boasting that he had brought honey for the schnapps from the village, and Theo heard a female
He had set up his playing board this evening after dinner in a corner of the dining room underneath one of the sconces, and these two cavalry officers were reconnoitering the terrain. It was the summer of 1870, and they were deciding whether this might be a good spot to try and force a battle with the French Army of the Rhine.
He heard his father and the naval officer named Oskar in the hallway walking toward Father's office, and he went very still. Oskar had small eyes, a high forehead, and almost no lips, but he was calm and intelligent and Theo knew that his parents respected him. He heard his father pushing the door shut, but it didn't close all the way and he could hear some of what they were saying if he didn't move. They were discussing, as the grownups did all the time these days, the Russian front, but it seemed that Oskar was talking as well about the attempt that summer on the life of the fuhrer. A few months earlier, in July, a group of officers had set off a bomb in the fuhrer's headquarters in Prussia. Hitler had survived, but it seemed the conspiracy was extensive. Even now, months later, the SS was still rounding up individuals who were involved. At school and among the Jungvolk, people referred to those officers as traitors and discussed with undisguised glee how cowardly they had been when they were executed for their crime, but Theo had the sense when the subject came up at dinner that his parents believed the plotters had only had Germany's best interests in mind.
It seemed, from what Theo could hear, that Oskar did, too.
"The problem," the officer was telling his father now, "is that we can't win the war. But we can't negotiate a peace now because of what some of Hitler's lackeys have done."
"A negotiated peace was never an option. Churchill and Roosevelt said years ago they would only accept a complete surrender," his father said.
"We are speaking in confidence, true?"
"Of course."
"Have you heard about the camps?"
"I've heard whispers."
"When the Russians find them? Or the Americans and the Brits? There will be hell to pay."
"Tell me: What do you know?"
Suddenly Theo's heart was beating fast in his chest, in part because his father and this officer were discussing the possibility that Germany might actually lose the war, and in part because of whatever it was that Oskar was about to reveal. Before the officer had continued, however, there were great whoops of laughter and the sound of the front door swinging open. He felt a rush of cool air. Two of the other naval officers, Oskar's friends, had come inside, and then he heard Anna and Mutti greeting them and helping them off with their coats. Any moment now they would bring that giant Scotsman in from the bunkhouse and hand him the accordion, and everyone would start dancing. No doubt, one of Anna's friends had arrived with the officers. The two men had probably been off somewhere picking her up.
His father and Oskar emerged from the office, and Oskar greeted his associates. His father noticed him now on the floor and knelt beside him.
"I didn't hear you out here," he said, and he rubbed the top of his head. "Have you been playing long?"
He had the sense that he would worry his father if he told him that he had. And his father had worries enough right now.
"No. I just sat down," he answered.
This seemed to make his father happy. He motioned down at the cavalrymen. "The battle of Mars-la-Tour?" he asked.
"I hadn't decided."
"Oskar reminded me of a book I think you're old enough to read now. It has a wonderful description of Von Bredow's Death Ride and the Prussian cavalry charge. Would you like me to see if I can find you a copy?"
"Yes, thank you."
Over their shoulder one of the officers was boasting that he had brought honey for the schnapps from the village, and Theo heard a female
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