Major Josef Ziegler held a dispatch in his hand, having read it several times. The shades of his office were closed, only a sliver of light from a setting sun sneaking through the edge of the window jambs.
Sergeant Bayer came down the hallway and tapped on the partially open door. “May I come in, sir?”
“Yes, of course,” Ziegler replied, his voice distant, his thoughts elsewhere.
Bayer looked at him curiously. He turned on the light. “Is everything all right, sir?”
“Sit, Sergeant,” Ziegler said. He motioned to the chair.
Bayer sat down and eyed his superior. “Can I get you anything?”
Ziegler shook his head. “No, thank you, Sergeant.” He tossed the dispatch onto the desk. “Orders from Berlin. Not what I expected.”
Bayer shifted in his chair. “A transfer, sir?”
Ziegler nodded. “They’r
