Friday, 22nd August 1919
Friday, 22nd August 1919A bitterly cold gale came out of nowhere, whistling down the streets and stirring up the fallen snow, forcing the young corporal out of his shadowy vantage point to take shelter from the storm in the nearest establishment open on such a harsh winter’s night.
Before crossing the threshold, he looked over his shoulder, but the Munich street was empty, its covering of snow taking on an eerie glow in the darkness.
Once in The Bavarian, the soldier, constantly on alert, scanned the room as he walked up to the bar and ordered a warm beer. Yet he noticed that every eye in the room furtively followed his movements. The packed local was full of people desperate not to be seen on this stormy subzero night and they were highly suspicious of stranger
