Publisher's Synopsis
The air was sharp with the methodology of winter, the smell of woodsmoke waiting noticeable all around from our short fire prior in the evening. I saw the Kommandant through the stone entrance of the indirect access and faltered. It was not Herr Becker, whom we knew and loathed. This was a slimmer man, clean-cut, unconcerned. Indeed, even in obscurity I could see knowledge, not brutish obliviousness, in his face, which made me apprehensive.