An orderly appeared with the Major's breakfast and Freddie noticed with interest that in spite of the rationing it consisted of a good sized gammon rasher, coffee, rolls, butter and apple confiture.
With a wave of his hand the Major instructed the orderly to bring two more breakfasts but his politeness did not extend to waiting for his guests. Tucking a paper napkin into his stiff uniform collar he sat himself down at once and lowering his head began to guzzle as though his very life depended upon the speed with which he consumed his food.
In due course two more gammon rashers and another jug of Ersatz coffee arrived, upon which Gregory gave Freddie a swift look and, tucking his paper serviette into the top of his collar, set to with a most admirable imitation of the Major's manners, that the airman did his best to follow.
"Aren't you going to join us?" Gregory asked Wentsich with his mouth full of ham and bread and butter. But the Ober Lieutenant shook his head.
"I don't go off duty until seven o'clock and I have my breakfast then; but I'll keep you company with another drink in the meantime."
As soon as they had finished breakfast the fat Major stood up and said: "We'll start at once, then I shall have plenty of time to drop you at the Air Ministry before I keep my appointment."
"Danke Schön Herr Major," Gregory murmured, but he felt no gratitude at all for this new offer; in fact, it perturbed him exceedingly. He had counted on the Major's dropping them 'somewhere in Berlin', which would have left them free to follow their own devices; whereas, now that he intended to set them down at the Air Ministry, it meant that they would at least have to make a pretence of inquiring there for Goering. And once inside the Air Ministry with a British Officer in R.A.F. uniform as his companion, Gregory felt that it might be anything but easy to get out again.
Wentsich rang for the Major's car and, having thanked the Ober Lieutenant for his kindness, they went downstairs out into the still dark street where the car was waiting.
It was not a big car, as the Germans were economizing petrol and, in fact, no cars were on the roads at all now except those in use for the Fighting Services and official business. Nevertheless, they made a steady thirty miles an hour towards Berlin and did even better when they got on to the broad Autobahn between Wittenberg and Potsdam. By ten past six they were running through the suburbs of the Capital and a quarter of an hour later, in the grey light of dawn, the car pulled up in front of the Air Ministry.
Gregory was about to get out when the Major checked him.
"Ein Augenblick," he called. "It is unlikely that the Field Marshall will be in his office as early as this. Let us inquire, and if he is not you can come on with me and we can have a second breakfast together after I have done my business."
Cursing inwardly, Gregory had smilingly to agree. The Major sent his chauffeur into the building to make the inquiry; the man returned to say that the Field Marshal had not slept in his flat at the Air Ministry that night and it was not known at what hour he would arrive.
"Perhaps we had better wait," suggested Gregory hopefully, but the Major would not hear of it; insisting that his own business, although important, would take only a few moments, and that it was senseless for the Herr Oberst to kick his heels in a waiting room when he might be doing justice to a meal.
Gregory having agreed to this with another false smile, the car drove on towards the Wannsee quarter and pulled up out side a big private house in a fine residential district. The Major then left them and went inside: but as his chauffeur remained in the car it was impossible for Gregory and Freddie to slip away as they would have liked to have done.
Ten minutes later the Major came out again and beckoned to them from the doorstep. My business is done," he called, "and my friend invites you both to breakfast; he is anxious to meet the English flying officer."
There was nothing for it but that they should accept the invitation, so they got out and accompanied the Major into the house. The friend proved to be another officer of Black Guards; a fair, thin paunchy man with almost white eyelashes, whose name was Blauhoff. He spoke English well and,, while maintaining a smiling, urbane manner, questioned Charlton exhaustively; not so much upon the British Air Force, about which a flying officer would naturally be averse to disclosing any details, but regarding events in London and the state of England generally.
Freddie stood up to the ordeal well, as he had an unshakable conviction that Britain would win the war and that the Government was neglecting no possible opportunity to mobilize her resources with speed and efficiency.
In consequence, he came out of the business with credit and the German got little satisfaction from him. Even when Blauhoff made sarcastic remarks about the amazingly poor quality of British propaganda Charlton innocently assured him that although there was certainly a great deal of muddle at the Ministry of Information when it was first started that was only to be expected in a country where propaganda had been deemed quite unnecessary up to the outbreak of the war: and that, in any case, much more competent people were now being given jobs there, as a consequence of which his host could rest assured that in the long run it would function with extreme efficiency.
The talk then turned on Finland and the new crisis that had arisen there. News had just come through that the Finns had offered to withdraw their troops if the Russians would do the same; which demonstrated beyond question the Finns' pacific intentions. But Blauhoff said that he did not think that the Russians would accept the offer. In addition to a withdrawal of the Finnish Army they were demanding the surrender of certain islands in the Gulf of Finland which together with the bases that they had now established on the coast of Estonia would give them control of the whole of the Eastern Baltic; and now that they had decided to exert pressure on Finland again it looked as though they had made up their minds to have what they wanted.
Gregory and Freddie did not like their host at all but they could not quarrel with the breakfast he provided. It was an excellent meal and yet one more demonstration of the fact which Gregory already knew: that, however short of food the German people had to go, the Nazi officials denied themselves nothing.
When they had finished they all left the house together. Blauhoff drove off to his office while Putzleiger insisted upon driving his passengers back to the Air Ministry.
It was now just after eight o'clock and, knowing the early hour at which all Germans start work, Gregory thought it quite possible that Goering had by this time arrived at the Air Ministry; that is, if he was in Berlin at all a point upon which Gregory was by no means certain.
As they pulled up in front of the big building he extended his hand to the Major and thanking him for his kindness began to wish him a hearty farewell; but the Major would have none of it and insisted on accompanying them into the hallway, where Gregory was forced to make his inquiry for Goering in front of his jovial but infuriatingly persistent escort.