The Gestapo paid me a visit on the day I was to be released. I noticed Leone unexpectedly walk into the ward, checking on a few patients before he made his way to me. His face was tight and there was obviously something troubling him.

Leone was checking my pulse and vital signs when he urgently spoke in a low voice.

"Hauptmann, the Gestapo is here to see you. You will be summoned to see them within a few minutes," he informed me in quiet Latin as he wrote my pulse rate on a chart. "I wanted to give you a few minutes warning to compose your thoughts."

"I have done nothing illegal or anything against the Third Reich to warrant their visit," I replied honestly.

"True enough, but what do they believe? Their form of truth and reality is all they care about."

I couldn't stop my stomach from knotting. My mind immediately raced to heroin, and the relief Guest had promised it would provide me in stressful situations.

I struggled internally before the weakness finally won. My former resolve to never touch drugs again quickly evaporated.

"Doctor . . . I don't know how to ask . . ." I stammered, unsure of how to word my desire and need. "Would it be possible to receive morphine as a substitute given the circumstances? This one time? Just something small to . . ."

"No. Absolutely not," he replied harshly. There was a look that I could only read as disappointment in his eyes.

Hating myself, I looked at him almost pleading.

In answer, he shook his head. "I promised you that you would not become addicted to morphine under my care. I will not allow it even if Himmler himself was outside to question you. You have no need for it now no matter what the situation. I will issues instructions to the staff that you are no longer in pain and are not to receive any without my approval."

"I understand. You are correct, Doctor, to deny me. And I thank you for forcing me to be strong."

Leone patted my shoulder softly for reassurance. "God be with you. You already have all the strength you need without resorting to drugs. Have faith, Captain, in yourself and in the world."

Message delivered, Leone moved on and made the pretense of checking on other patients.

I quickly dressed in my uniform. I would not allow myself the indignity of being interrogated wearing only a hospital gown. I pulled out my drawing pad and began sketching the scene outside my window, more to calm my nerves than to actually be artistic. There was an instant hush in the ward when the two black-uniformed Gestapo agents made their appearance. I continued my sketching, pretending to be oblivious to their presence.

It took them only a few seconds to reach my bedside.

"Hauptmann Dietrich?"

There was no reason for them to confirm my identity. They knew exactly who they were addressing.

"Yes, gentlemen?" I answered, looking up at them only after I had completed a few additional lines, forcing them to wait until I was ready for them.

"You are to accompany us to see Herr Kriminalrat Lenz. He would like to ask you a few questions."

I gave them a short nod, and placed my sketchpad down on my bed. All eyes were upon us as we left the ward and I could hear a few faint prayers said on my behalf.

The two agents marched briskly down the hall, one on either side of me, not saying a word. After walking down several wards, we arrived at an office which they had commandeered for their purposes.

There was a lone Gestapo Kriminalrat sitting behind a large desk. He appeared to be approximately my age, but already had an extremely receding hairline. His complexion was as pale and pasty as if he had never seen the light of day. I couldn't help but notice how sharply his face contrasted with mine. I was burned almost as dark as a native from the constant and intense exposure of the North African sun.

"Heil Hitler!" he said crisply, as he stood up with his arm jutted unnaturally into the air.

I shouldn't have been, but I was taken off guard by the salute. I should have expected nothing else when meeting with the Gestapo.

I waited for the briefest instant before responding in kind, hiding my distaste for the action. "Heil Hitler!"

I never willingly gave the Nazi salute. I believed it bastardized the tradition and respect of honoring a superior with a traditional military salute. The only time in my life that I had enthusiastically given the Nazi salute was when I graduated from the Academy, nine years before.

Then, I had been caught up in the excitement of the moment. To graduate from such an institution was an accomplishment for anyone, let alone considering the difficulties that I had overcome my final seven months to earn my commission.

Hitler himself had been present at the graduation ceremony. It was an intoxicating moment to swear an oath of honor and loyalty directly to the leader of one's country. Yes, I had willingly sworn my allegiance and forfeited my soul to the devil himself. In hindsight, I realized that now.

Lenz looked at me with surprised approval. "It's good to see a Wehrmacht soldier finally responding with the proper salute respectful to the Fuhrer, Hauptmann Dietrich. It is long overdue."

"I am uncovered. Decorum and tradition prevents from giving a proper military salute. I am under obligation to provide an alternative salute given the circumstances," I explained frankly.

Now Lenz was frowning. "Why is the Nazi salute not good enough for you soldiers of the Wehrmacht, Hauptmann Dietrich?"

"I am merely informing you of the protocol of a standard salute which has been traditional for my branch of service, Kriminalrat Lenz." He glared at me, displeased with my explanation.

"Take a seat," he finally ordered, gesturing towards a hard, wooden chair placed squarely in front of the desk.

I did as I was asked and waited.

Lenz proceeded to stare at me for the next few minutes, openly testing me before he finally spoke.

"You are a true war hero of the Third Reich, Hauptmann Dietrich. I am nothing less than honored to be in your presence. Few men have accomplished what you have performed on the battlefield for the glory of the Fuhrer and the Fatherland."

I gave him a slight nod, acknowledging his flattery. I knew he was using it for his own purpose. He was not being sincere in the slightest.

"Your family must be proud of you, especially your father, a war hero himself. Speaking of your father, how is he these days? Doing well? I would have thought he would have ended his retirement to fight for the Thousand Year Reich. Truly a shame! Can you tell me why he hasn't? There are few men who possess his talent of leadership and skill on the battlefield."

I shrugged. "You would need to ask my father your questions directly. I have not discussed his continued retirement with him."

"I heard you are not close with your father, but I will take you up on your suggestion. I believe I will drop by and visit him the next time I am in the vicinity of Coburg. I have never had the pleasure of meeting him. It will be an honor to do so. I am positive that I will have an interesting conversation with him. Perhaps I will have the opportunity to meet the rest of your family at the same time?"

The thinly veiled threat against my family was unmistakable.

I would not allow him to intimidate me. And the thought of Lenz intimidating my father was laughable. Even though he belonged to the Gestapo, he had no idea who he was going up against in regards to my father. My father had connections and friends, in and out of, the National Socialist Party. Lenz could not even imagine what the consequences would be of getting on the wrong side of my father, not even in his worst nightmare. If anything, I thought, Lenz should be intimidated by my father.

I looked Lenz directly in the eye. "Yes, I would appreciate you looking in on them. I have not heard from them for the last few months. The mail situation in Africa had become unpredictable long before I was airlifted to Italy. And I am sure that my family would be duly honored by your visit. To the best of my knowledge, they have never received a visit from a Gestapo agent before to merely confirm their well-being." My false gratitude was transparent, even to Lenz.

"Ah, yes! I do understand how precious mail is to you front-line soldiers. I would like to give you something as a token of our friendship, to show how much the Gestapo cares about our brothers-in-arms in the Wehrmacht who are so gallantly fighting for the Fuhrer."

Lenz made a production of placing his briefcase on the desk and slowly unlatching the clasps. He proceeded to open it and pull out a thick stack of letters bundled together with twine. He placed it on the desk, just out of my reach. I recognized my father's strong handwriting on the top letter. It was obvious the letters had been opened and read by Lenz or one of his subordinates.

"You seem to be very popular, Hauptmann Dietrich. Forgive me for being so bold, but I couldn't help but glance through your letters. Your letters are from family members, friends, Eberhardt Schnass – there is a name from the past! – and not to mention a few, ahem, women," he added with a wink. "They are certainly forward in what they write."

"I believe you are here for a different reason than delivering letters and discussing my popularity, Kriminalrat Lenz." I was through with his cat and mouse game. "Just why are you here?"

Lenz broadly smiled and nodded, acknowledging the boldness of my question. He wasted no time addressing his true motive.

"Your popularity extends way beyond German nationals. You are also popular with a certain Allied commando group which was located in your area of operation. I believe it is called the Rat Patrol."

"You are correct."

"What can you tell me about this commando group?"

"I have filed numerous and extensive reports, Kriminalrat Lenz, regarding my encounters with them. I would be surprised if you have not already reviewed them."

"You are a clever man, Hauptmann Dietrich, staying a step ahead of me." Lenz waggled a finger at me like he was addressing a particularly naughty child. "You are correct, I have read your reports. Humor me, though, and give me a brief summary in your own words."

I spent the next few minutes presenting a high level overview of the Rat Patrol and its operation, taking care not to add anything I hadn't documented in one of my reports. After the brief summary, I stopped and waited for Lenz, knowing he would prompt me for any missing information that he deemed as necessary.

"If I understand your reports correctly, your unit captured soldiers of the Rat Patrol several times and yet they always managed to escape. Why didn't you execute them immediately? You more than anyone should have been aware of the Fuhrer's order regarding commandos and how you were 'handle' them should they be captured. Why didn't you follow this order?"

"There has never been a dispute about me following any of my orders, Herr Lenz. This includes following orders considered to be suicide missions," I said in a dangerous voice.

"I was temporarily reporting to Oberst Otto Neumann for a special assignment during this engagement period. His standing order was to capture any members of the Rat Patrol in the future instead of killing them. His goal was to have them interrogated to provide useful information on their operations. Oberst Neumann never rescinded his orders, even after the Fuhrer's orders were gradually disseminated."

It was a small exaggeration of the truth, but was one I knew could not be substantiated nor refuted. Neumann had surrendered weeks ago to the Americans and it would be impossible for him to deny our conversation took place. Knowing Neumann, he purposely would not have documented any of our conversation that could possibly return to haunt him.

Of course I knew the details of Hitler's order, down to the smallest minutiae. However, I never would have acknowledged this to Lenz. Rommel had never passed on the order to his subordinates, believing it to be dishonorable. Rommel and I had even discussed it during a private meeting where he had plainly stated that he would not enforce it. Over time, though, the order had become common knowledge for those fighting against the commandos.

I was not dense enough to inform Lenz of our conversation. I knew Rommel was not well and I was not going to add to his difficulties.

I personally considered Hitler's commando order to be a war crime, not to mention repugnant. I never would have fulfilled it even if Hitler had given the order to me directly. Hitler had never been an officer and had no concept of holding oneself to a high level of honorable conduct. I was willing to hold my professional career, and my life, to a standard that Hitler could never understand.

Lenz, obviously realizing that he was getting nowhere, soon changed his tactics. "Why did you request to stay in North Africa when you were ordered evacuated to Italy due to your injuries? Surrender for your unit and the remnants of the Afrika Korps was imminent. I think the normal officer would have desired to regroup in order to prepare for going on the offensive against the enemy again."

What an ass, I thought, as I kept my face impassive. Lenz had no concept of Germany's reality or even what it meant to be a commanding officer. There would be no regrouping, not now, not later.

"I had led and shared victories with my men. It was only right for me to share in their defeat. I requested to remain with my men for this reason."

"Wouldn't you agree, Hauptmann, the situation is to say the very least . . . odd. Put yourself in my position. What would you think? I mean, there have been . . . what polite term should I use? I know . . . Discussions about you and the Rat Patrol for the last several months."

I started to rise from the chair, but forced myself to sit down

"Collusion with the enemy? The suggestion is ludicrous and find it insulting to even have it directed towards with me."

It was impossible for Lenz to misread my anger but he continued to press the issue. He spread his hands.

"But how else you could explain your results? Many of your missions involving the Rat Patrol ended in failure, sometimes at a great loss to the Reich. And what about the ease of Sergeant Troy always escaping under your authority?"

I noticed that he used Troy's name even though I had purposely not mentioned it during my oral debrief a few minutes ago. I was quiet, waiting to see what else Lenz knew.

Lenz leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers together. "If Troy is so adept at escaping from you, then why was he unable to escape from Guest?"

"Sergeant Troy was incapable of even walking given the extreme torture he had received at the hands of Guest. Besides, the strength of the Rat Patrol, is their cohesion as a team. Sergeant Troy was its leader, but each man brought to it his unique ability. It would be more difficult for Sergeant Troy to escape alone than it would be for him to escape together with his team."

"But then why did you assist Sergeant Troy to escape? The logical course of action was to allow him to be killed in captivity."

"I needed Sergeant Troy. He was the only witness available to confirm my unauthorized disappearance."

"Fair enough. But after he provided your alibi you could have followed the Fuhrer's orders and executed him. But you did not. And now, he is free again. He probably will be reassigned to another theatre against the Third Reich."

I shrugged my shoulders. Lenz would never understand the code of honor which bound me to being a German officer.

"I highly doubt Sergeant Troy will be retained in service given the severity of his wounds," I told Lenz. "The United States has more than enough resources to compensate for his withdrawal. It would not be necessary for him to continue serving against Germany, or even Japan, for that matter." Lenz's face tightened at my faint hint at the dwindling resources of Germany.

"Why didn't you try to escape earlier?" I could tell that Lenz was becoming exasperated since the meeting was not following his plan.

"An opportunity to escape did not present itself earlier. Besides, I was heavily sedated when I was not being interrogated." The conversation was becoming more and more farcical. I wondered how much longer Lenz was going to attempt to lead me down the rabbit hole.

Lenz suddenly sat upright and leaned across the desk. "Ah! So you were sedated? With what?"

"Morphine," I lied.

"You've disappeared quite a bit over the years, Dietrich. In Paris and at the Battle of Adiri. Yes, the Gestapo is very much aware of these disappearances. I can only wonder about how many disappearances that have not come to our attention. But now we have this particular disappearance, which comes to light at a key moment and which involves the Rat Patrol leader.

"I gave you my explanation."

"Yes, but even then, it can only raise the question about your dedication to the Reich. Your delay in escaping from Guest, to assist a known and dangerous enemy of the Reich."

"Do you honestly believe that I endured three days of torture and interrogation to collude with Sergeant Troy?" I resisted the urge to show Lenz my back as proof as to what I had suffered. "Is that honestly what you believe?"

"It surely couldn't have been too bad." Lenz inclined his head. "I mean, you were given morphine when you weren't being tortured. It was rather considerate of Guest to provide you with pain medication."

My anger boiled to the surface. I could no longer prevent myself from slowly rising from my chair. My unexpected action startled Lenz and he sat back, the unmistakable look of fear crossing his face.

I quickly unbuttoned my blouse and ripped it off. I was not wearing an undershirt since it was too tight against my still healing flesh. I could hear the two men behind me audibly gasp when they saw the extent of the damage to my body.

I stood over Lenz, pointing out the numerous scars I had obtained in combat.

"This scar I received in France during the opening days of the war," I said, indicating the neat bullet wound on my right upper arm. "The one here from the siege of Tobruk." I moved my hand to my hair, parting it. "If you shaved my head, you would see where an English bullet came within a few millimeters of ending my life at the Second Battle of El Alamein."

I then drew his attention to the large jagged scar on my left side. "I received this reminder at the Battle of Jufra, where I held the left flank at a tremendous cost to my men and equipment before finally pushing the British back behind their lines. It was considered a suicidal maneuver and my leadership and bravery were recognized." Saving the worst for last. I turned my back to Lenz. "And finally, I received my latest souvenir for protecting the integrity of the Reich from a voracious mad man."

Lenz audibly choked at the sight of the damage. Unseen were the internal emotional scars I carried which were just as much, if not more so, horrific.

I stood there for a few moments, forcing him to take in the raw wound, latticed with the few shreds of flesh which remained. I glared at the other two men, who wouldn't meet my eyes. I finally turned to again face Lenz. I noticed that he had turned a shade paler, something that I wouldn't have believed was possible.

"You be the judge, Lenz, if what I just shared with you supports your belief that my situation with Guest was 'not too bad' and if I endured all of it a moment longer than I had to for the sake of collusion." Calmly, I slipped on my blouse and began buttoning it before tucking it into my trousers. "Now show me your scars, the ones you have received in combat, for your service to Germany and to the Fuhrer."

Lenz sat quietly, not making a move.

"It is as I thought. You have nothing to show. I have willingly and loyally engaged in combat, ordered my men to their deaths and have almost been killed myself on numerous occasions. I have been nothing but a loyal and dedicated soldier to Germany since I received my commission in 1934." I leaned down to look Lenz in the eye. "The Fuhrer and Generalfeldmarschall Rommel are of the same opinion. Generalfeldmarschall Rommel recommended me for the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves and the Fuhrer personally signed the commendation. Tell me: Are you even remotely questioning the judgement and wisdom of the Fuhrer along with the opinion of his favorite general?"

I was met with stony silence. I had neatly boxed Lenz into a corner. I was now finished with the conversation.

I reached over and lightly took the bundle of mail, smiling as I did so.

"Thank you, gentlemen, for assisting me with my past due correspondence. Your consideration is greatly appreciated. If you have no further questions for me, I will excuse myself. I am scheduled to be released shortly. I will be receiving my next set of orders immediately. No doubt I will return to a front to once again engage in active combat for the Reich. I sincerely doubt that we will meet again."

I gave them a short nod before leaving, refusing to debase myself again by giving them a Nazi salute. I slowly returned to the ward, fully confident that I would not hear from the Gestapo again.

I was now ready to return to combat.