"Hält, der ist Sie?"

Jamie stopped dead, and put the case down. His heart was racing, he knew he was going to get found out. He waited for the man to come to her, making no sudden moves. He half expected the man to laugh at his pathetic attempt to disguise himself, and rip off the wig and then shoot him for being a spy!

The soldier approached, and Jamie could smell the stale cigarette smoke on his breath. The man repeated his question.

"Who are you?"

Jamie turned and looked him straight in the eye. The German wasn't that much older than he, but by his demeanour and general bearing, he had seen a lot of action. He was a big young man, and used to authority. The metal half-moon brassard plate suspended round his neck identified him as a military policeman, which explained his general confident attitude.

There was a military police check point cleverly camouflaged at the side of the road, and a chicane of sand bags and barbed wire that would slow vehicular traffic down.

The corporal had seen many civilians fleeing the fighting, and could see little difference with this girl. She was pretty and dressed quite smartly. Not your usual refugee, because she was clean and didn't run away from him and quiver with fear.

He held his Schmeiser machine pistol casually in his hands, not pointing it at her at any time.

"My name is Janine Chavanay. I am a French worker, caught by the fighting. I was hoping to escape now it was quiet," Jamie said, in basic and slightly accented German. He had tried to make his voice as feminine as he could. The first girl's name that came to his mind was that of his friend from all those years ago. The surname was his grandmother's maiden name.

The military policeman frowned.

"You aren't Dutch?" he said.

"No. As I told you, I am French. I was working as an interpreter for a medical unit, and it was transferred from France to Belgium, and then last week to near this town, before being disbanded and regrouped. No one asked me whether I spoke Dutch when we got the orders to move. We didn't even know where they were moving to," Jamie said.

"Papers?"

"I have none. They were held by the unit when it was pulled back when the fighting started in France. That way, I couldn't leave the medical unit. I was not able to find where the papers were taken after the reorganisation. Then the British attacked, so I grabbed my suitcase and hid in a cellar for ages."

The soldier looked at the girl closely. A pretty girl, who was not the usual sort he had to deal with. She looked tired and pale, yet her answers had displayed that she was unafraid, spirited and educated. No moronic scared local, a genuine victim and he felt sorry for her. He made a decision.

"Where is your uniform?"

"I never had one. I am an interpreter, not a nursing auxiliary. My job was to help with the German and French, not the messy bits!" the girl looked embarrassed. "I'm not very good with blood and gore!"

To Jamie's relief, the man gave a short laugh.

"Not many of us are, sweetheart! Come with me. You will come to the Police post. We will try to get you some emergency papers. Where do you hope to go?"

"Honestly?"

"Ja."

"Home! To France. But the Allies are there now, and I have heard that the Free French shave the heads of female collaborators, and parade them through the town before raping and shooting them!"

Corporal Heinz Rausmann nodded his head. He had seen many things in this war, and nothing surprised him any more. All he wanted to do was get back to his family in Bavaria, and he felt even more sorry for the girl.

He made her accompany him to the police unit which was situated in an old farm just on the outskirts of the next town. He watched her carefully for signs of fear or nerves. She displayed neither, and simply shrugged and picked up her case.

At the police unit, which was in fact the local police station, he sat her down on a bench in a secure holding area and gave her a watery cup of ersatz coffee made of acorns.

"Wait here. I'll see what I can do."

"Danke."

He went and spoke with his sergeant major. He told Sgt. Major Webber about the girl. The man looked at the girl sitting sipping her coffee. She did not appear to be the usual scrubber who seemed to follow the army around. A pretty thing, a little taller than average, but very elegant, well dressed and looking rather tired.

He smiled, weren't they all?

"Heinz, you can't just go picking up any pretty girl just because she reminds you of your sister."

"Sorry boss, but she just looked so fucking lost. Besides, the fucking French would shave off all her hair and probably shoot her after raping her to buggery!"

"What the fuck do we do with her? This is a fucking combat zone. She shouldn't even be here. So I suppose you were right to bring her in. How do we know she isn't a fucking spy?"

"Come on boss, she's just a frightened girl."

"Did you search her case?"

"No."

"Then do it. If she is clean, then we might do something for her. If not, then we turn her over to the SS."

"Shit! For real?"

"Heinz, you aren't a stupid bloke, so stop acting like one. Go do your job."

"Yes sir."

Heinz walked over to the girl.

Jamie looked up as he approached.

He smiled sympathetically.

"Sorry, but my boss says I have to check your case."

"Why, in case I have a transmitter or something?"

"Something like that," he said apologetically.

She pushed the case towards him.

"Go on, I have only my clothes. I left my secret transmitter and decoding device in my old knickers."

Heinz laughed, but still searched her case. Without a word, she passed him her bag, and he searched that too.

The relief on the soldier's face was apparent.

"You're clean," he said, and she rewarded him with a smile that warmed his heart. She really was a very pretty girl.

"Actually, I'd kill for a hot bath!" she said, and he laughed.

"Let me tell my boss. I won't be long."

The Sergeant Major was now talking with one of the SS officers. The Waffen SS were at this moment mopping up the last of the British airborne division in and beyond Arnhem, which was withdrawing, leaving behind so many wounded men. This man was not Waffen SS, but the officer in charge of the Police Unit. The Dutch resistance were a continual thorn in the side of the Germans, and his job was to try to combat their activities.

Heinz stood patiently to one side until he was finished. Webber saw him, and nodded.

"Yes?"

"Sir, the girl is clean."

"So, give her a pass and get her the fuck out of here!"

"What girl?" asked the officer, an Obersturmbannfuehrer. (

"Just a French girl. She had been with one of our medical units pulled in from France or Belgium, and now it has been disbanded, she was left to her own devices, sir."

"How do you know she is not a terrorist?"

"Sir, she seems okay to me."

"Have you searched her?"

"I've searched her case. Just clothes. No food, nothing!"

"I asked if you had searched her?"

"No sir."

"I suggest you do so. We don't want her whipping a grenade out of her knickers and killing us all, now do we?"

"No sir!"

Arsehole! Thought Heinz.

He went back to the girl and found her standing up, with her arms out to her side. She had heard the conversation, and was ready to cooperate. The last thing she wanted was a strip search by large German women.

"Just don't tickle, please," she said, with a little smile.

Heinz smiled, and pretended to search her and her bag.

"Thanks. Sorry about this, but the man is a complete bastard!"

She smiled at him, and he felt she was the most gracious girl he'd ever met.

He went and reported to the SS officer.

"Nothing sir. No grenade in the knickers, Sir."

The officer looked at him to see if he was being facetious. Heinz kept a straight face, and stared at a spot above the man's head.

"What use is some bloody nurse? Just get her away from the combat zone."

"Sir, with respect, she isn't a nurse. She was employed as an interpreter. She speaks German almost perfectly, and French of course!"

"An interpreter? What good is she here in Holland, when we are fighting the English and Americans? Now, if she spoke English, then we could use her. Half the bloody English paratroopers are in hospital, and we could do with someone to assist our intelligence officers."

"I could ask if she speaks English as well, if you want, sir?"

The officer made no comment, but Sergeant Major Webber simply nodded, and Heinz returned to where the girl was waiting. Her head had flopped back against the wall, and she looked asleep.

He gently touched her arm and she jumped, looking very scared for a second.

"I'm sorry, I forgot where I was for a moment," she said.

"That's okay. This fucking war takes it out of all of us. Tell me, do you speak English as well as German?"

Jamie's heart quickened. What should he say? Should he deny it, and then be found out later?

"Yes," Jamie said, deciding honesty was the most effective policy.

"How well?"

"Almost fluent," he said.

"Right. I think we might have a job for you." The then turned and left Jamie staring after him.

"Sir?" Heinz said to the officer.

"Yes?"

"The girl speaks good English, sir."

"Excellent! You said we were using her before. Which unit?"

"I don't think even she knows that, sir. She said she was with one medical unit in France, and then another in Belgium. What with all the retreating, she was just swept along with the flow."

"This is a fucking mess. Still the British got a bloody nose this time. But they'll be back, and the bloody Americans are sure to add their weight, no matter how wasteful they are."

Heinz didn't risk a comment. The SS could be nasty bastards, and he hadn't survived this long by speaking out of turn.

"Well, I'm busy just now. Sergeant Major, interview the girl and ascertain which medical unit she was with. I want to establish she is not one of these fucking terrorists."

"Yes sir! Corporal, take her to room four."

"Sir."

Heinz felt even more sorry for the girl now, but he did as ordered and took the girl to a small interview room. She sat on one of only two chairs. There was a small table between them. He allowed her to keep the case of clothes. He had checked them, after all.

Jamie sat and fretted, and an austere female in dark uniform entered the room and stood by the door. A few moments later Webber entered and sat on the other chair.

He looked at the girl, who looked tired and drawn. She didn't look like a desperate resistance fighter.

He went through her story, and she repeated the answers she had already given. Jamie had no way of knowing that this area had been a transit area for a great many units in the past month. Six medical units had been and gone, and even Webber was unsure exactly from whence they had come and where they now were.

In the end, he was satisfied that she was just a young girl out of place and lost in the maelstrom of human flotsam that war creates. He went and reported to the SS Obersturmbannfuehrer.

"Sir, I am satisfied the girl is as she claims."

"Excellent! Take her to the SS billet at the hotel just down the road. Get her a room, and then bring her to me at nine o'clock. I'll be in my office."

"Yes sir!"

Webber found Heinz grabbing a crafty cigarette out the back.

"Heinz, our lord and master wants to use her as an interpreter. Get her over to the hotel. He wants her in his office by nine, so get a move on."

Heinz returned a few moments later to where the girl was. She was lying across the table now, her head on her bag, and was sound asleep. He looked at her exquisitely shaped legs.

These were what girl's legs should look like. He thought. Not those tree trunks the Party kept selling as the epitome of Aryan womanhood.

He gently nudged her awake, and once again he saw the fear and uncertainty in her eyes as she awoke. Once she saw where she was, she relaxed and smiled.

Heinz smiled.

"The Obersturmbannfuehrer has told us to get you a room n the hotel. All the SS personnel are billeted there, so it looks like he has plans for you."

"Plans?" she asked.

"You are an interpreter, so he happens to need one with all the British POWs. You may find yourself helping the Police Unit."

"But he is SS," she said, confused.

"The SS run the police. Apart from the two SS panzer Divisions under General Bittich, the SS are everywhere in this region. You have the civil police, some military police, Gestapo and SS all operating under the local SS Police commander. It seems that you will be working for us."

Jamie was silent. This was getting more and more dangerous. It was also surreal, and he just managed to see the ridiculous side as well. He managed to smile. How stupid all this was!

Heinz took the girl in the Kubelwagen to the hotel and he explained her circumstances to the SS Scharfuehrer( on the desk. It had been a good quality hotel before hostilities, and as ever, the SS always managed to requisition the finer facilities for their own use.

The Scharfuehrer looked at the tall slender girl, and as with the corporal, he liked what he saw. She smiled uncertainly at him, and he could see the disquiet in those blue eyes.

"Its all right, my love, we don't bite. Unless you happen to be an enemy of the Reich!" he said and laughed to signify he was joking.

Jamie managed to smile, and it transformed his face.

"I'll put you in room 108. It has its own bathroom, so you can have a bath if you want. There should be some hot water, but it will be all gone by nine," he said and handed her a key.

"She has to be in Obersturmbannfuehrer Willi Kranz's office by nine." Heinz told the Scharfuehrer.

The Scharfuehrer looked at his watch. It was an American watch, he had 'liberated' it from a dead American pilot a year ago.

"You have one hour, so make the most of it," he said to the girl.

"Thanks." She replied, and smiled at each of the men.

Heinz watched her go up the stairs, and the Scharfuehrer turned to him.

"Where did you find her?"

"Scurrying out of the town at dawn. Poor cow, she was fucking terrified. She'd been hiding in a cellar, as she was near the bridge when the Tommies landed."

"This war is a fucking nightmare. I just hope to hell we have homes to go back to."

"Yeah, me too," said Heinz."

"Are you coming to collect her at nine?"

"I hadn't thought. Can you send someone with her, I am supposed to be on a check point?"

"Yeah, I'll fine someone."

Heinz nodded and left the hotel. The girl's smile kept haunting him for much of the day.

Jamie found the room, and looked at the bed longingly. The cupboard had not been the best place for sleeping, and now he knew he'd sleep for over twelve hours if given a chance.

He caught his reflection in the mirror, and he caught his breath.

No longer in candle light, he could see that he was more than convincing. His problem, if anything, was that he had made the girl too attractive. He locked the door, and ran a shallow bath. There was a small bar of soap in his case and he had a good wash.

He washed and shaved all parts he could reach, and enjoyed lying in the warm water.

He looked down at his body, and frowned.

He knew he was male, but his shape was certainly not the typical male shape, and the body he had at one time aspired. His waist was too slender, yet his hips were a little too broad. His slender arms and narrow shoulders were more female than male, despite the lithe muscles, he did not look desperately masculine.

He had always been a little embarrassed by his appearance, and in particular his small genitalia, and as he looked at them he was aware that even here he was not the well endowed male that everyone else at school and in the army seemed to have been.

He had been told that he would change with puberty. He never had, not properly at any rate. Even his voice retained the boyish quality, and never really broke to his satisfaction.

In actual fact, Jamie Cameron had been one in five thousand children who had been born inter-sexed. Most were surgically corrected within a short space of time after birth. However, such was his mother's phobia of surgeons and hospitals that Jamie was whisked home at the first opportunity. He was simply christened with the male name as his apparent male genitalia were more prominent and obvious than the female.

However, that had been a mistake, for the male genitalia were simply slightly distended female items, and the little girl was destined to be brought up as a boy. There were other factors which complicated the child's development, mainly relating to the fact that some of the maleness prevented appropriate development of the female organs.

His father was never told, and his grandparents kept his mother's secret for all these years. As time progressed, the 'boy' seemed content enough, and his female side seemed to be hidden, both the physical and the psychological.

The fact he seemed to thrive and succeed so well at school, signified to his grandparents that they had made the right choice. However, they were not to know the inner turmoil the boy suffered, and the anguish of not actually feeling he belonged!

Jamie had never questioned his condition, as he was as unaware as the rest of the world. As a pubescent youth, he had wondered why his things weren't changing as others were, and he had found a strange hollow between his legs that he did not fully understand.

The fact his testes were small, and his penis insignificant, he did not question, he merely became self-conscious and shy about being naked with others around. He also was not particularly upset that he did not seem to experience erections as did other boys.

As he probed with his fingers, as never before, this time feeling that he was on the verge of understanding, yet unsure of what.

He had, as everyone else had, completely taken his body for granted. Sex had never been an issue, and only now did he start to seriously question his masculinity.

Why did he feel so at home dressed as a girl?

Why did his body more resemble a female's than a male?

Why did he have a depression beneath his scrotum, and what was the flap of skin towards the anus?

However his chest was as flat as ever.

Or, was it?

He noted his nipples were sensitive, and the flesh behind them was slightly puffy, swollen and tender.

Why?

He had neither the time nor the opportunity to find answers to these questions at this moment. He got out and dried himself.

He dressed in the same clothes as before, and experienced the same warm feeling of belonging as he finished off by applying a little makeup. He decided to do something with the wig. Left at shoulder length, it was more prone to be held, caught and pulled off, whether by accident or design.

He spent several valuable minutes braiding it to each side, and clipping it in a fashionable yet ordered manner. It looked faintly Teutonic when he at last firmly clipped it on his head. He smiled, and the girl smiled back.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not see the man that had been Jamie Cameron. It neither worried nor upset him, and the girl's smile was real.

Leaving the case in the room, the girl went back downstairs and found a Sturmann( waiting by the desk.

"This man will take you to the Obersturmbannfuehrer," the Scharfuehrer told her.

She smiled her thanks and followed the Sturmann to the waiting Kubelwagen.

Obersturmbannfuehrer Willi Kranz liked the girl immediately. She was blonde, and that was always his starting point. She had a good Aryan face, fine features and a nice figure. She needed a bit more in the breast department, but seemed to have good child-bearing hips, and superb firm yet beautiful legs. She was probably underfed and so with a good diet would fill out nicely!

Her blue eyes met his stare unwaveringly. He smiled, as he liked them with spirit.

"I am Obersturmbannfuehrer Willi Kranz. What is your name?"

"Janine Chavanay."

"You are French?"

"Yes."

"You speak excellent German."

"Thank you. But I know it is not quite fluent."

"It is good enough. I understand you have been assisting one of our medical units?"

"Yes, as an interpreter."

"How did that come about?"

"There was a time in France when your medical officers wanted someone who could speak German and French. The men had all gone, and I was sixteen. I was used in the main Hospital at Reims to help the doctors deal with patients who had no French. I was later used in a field hospital when French casualties were brought in for German medical staff.

"How old are you now?"

"Nineteen."

He looked at her. She looked older. The war had brought changes, and he knew he looked older than his thirty-eight years.

"How come you speak such good German?"

"My mother insisted I learn it, and English too."

"Why?"

Jamie shrugged, and his brain worked overtime to make up a believable yet un-confirmable story.

"My mother was unsure who my father was. She was working as a nurse in a Medical Station in Africa. Germans and British came and went, and my mother had many lovers. I was the result of one of her affairs. She always hoped that it was either a German Officer, or a British officer, and he would come back and marry her."

"And they never did?"

She smiled and shook her head.

"No, she died of cholera, and I was brought up by my grandparents in Reims. My grandfather spoke German, and he taught me to speak it too. He had been a prisoner of the Germans in the first war."

"You are aware that your countrymen don't exactly welcome back those seen as collaborators with the Reich?"

"I am a realist. I was forced to work for you back then, and I am aware that they will see it as a choice. After all, my work did bring better rations and some luxuries for the family. I chose to come with the medical unit, as my life would be made very unpleasant once the Germans moved out. I have to live with that choice. All I can hope for is to find somewhere I can live when all this stupidity is over."

"Fraulein, it seems that the Fatherland has further needs of your services. I understand that you speak good English as well as German and French?" He spoke to her in German, and she replied in the same language. He could hear her slightly strange accent.

"Yes. Our neighbours had English cousins, and they would come over in the summer holidays, so I picked up more English with them."

Willi stood up and walked over to the window and looked out.

"This war is far from over. The Fuhrer has some surprises up his sleeve for our enemies. They will never conquer the Fatherland. They may take away some of the occupied territory for a while, but Germany shall Prevail!"

He turned and smiled at her. He noticed she was wearing a man's wristwatch. He walked over and took her by the left wrist, and raised it to see the watch more clearly.

"Swiss, good make. Why do you wear a man's watch?"

"Because it my work I need something I can see well, and has luminous hands. It is my night clock as well as my wrist watch. It was a present from a French pilot I knew. He is dead now."

"Your lover?"

The girl flushed.

"In time perhaps. I have yet to experience that pleasure. The war keeps taking the men I like from me," she said, evenly.

Willi let her wrist go.

"War is not a good time for women," he said.

"War is not a good time for anyone!" she countered.

"Quite! Then, your presence is needed in the military hospital. There are many wounded enemy soldiers. You can help the medical personnel to give them the correct treatments. Also, we need to interview them so as to prevent further foolish loss of life."

Willi paused, and considered carefully how he should deal with this girl. She wasn't German, yet clearly she had been drafted in to help, and was still here. She couldn't go home, for prejudice and persecution would make her life miserable at best, and taker her life at worst.

She was too young to let go and to leave to her own devices. He knew what a roving army patrol could do to such an attractive girl, regardless of nationality.

He decided to place her under his protection in the most effective manner he could. He called in an orderly.

"You are now directly under the command of the SS Police Unit responsible for combating terrorist activity and gathering intelligence from any source we can find.

"This may be somewhat different to your previous tasks, and so it will be necessary for you to become an SS auxiliary. So, this man will take you to the SS quartermaster, and you will be issued with a suitable uniform. Then he will escort you to the hospital, and you will report to SS Sturmbannfuehrer( Otto Schneider. He is in charge of all POW screening and interrogations."

The girl's heart sank. This was getting out of control. How the hell was she supposed to get out of this?

She simply nodded, and went with the Sturmann in the Kubelwagen to a large warehouse just down the road. Some of the SS seemed to be in the process of moving out. At least the support organisation was on the move, if not the actual troops.

They managed to get someone to sort out a uniform for her. A disinterested female SS auxiliary simply handed her one set of everything. The interpreter flashes were given to her loose, so she could sew them on at her leisure. They at least gave her a sewing kit with which to do so.

They took her back to the hotel so she could change. It was weird, for Jamie now actually thought of himself as a female. The uniform was rather austere, and a stark reminder of the danger she was in. She pulled on the long black boots, and was pleased at how well the fitted. She looked at the death's head skull on the forage cap, then put the black cap on her head at a rakish angle.

She looked into a mirror, and was staggered at her reflection.

Gone was the girl, and replaced now by a veritable Valkyrie.

Jamie stared into those blue eyes, and it was as if she was staring at a complete stranger. Gone was the boy, gone the strange ambiguous boy/girl that she had created. For here was a girl who was determined to stay. Here was the person she had always been.

The girl smiled at her reflection, and gave herself a salute. Not the palm-forward style of the British army, but with the palm down, in German style, and clicked her heels together.

Jamie had finally found who she was. She wasn't a boy. She knew she wasn't really a girl, yet, but she was going to have a go at least. She had been pushed into being something she wasn't sure she wanted to be for the first nineteen years, so now she decided to make up her own rules as she went along. If they discovered her, they would shoot her, then at least she could say she tried.

She locked the door, and went downstairs. She asked for directions to the Sturmbannfuehrer's office.

The sergeant grinned at her. The uniform improved her looks. Somehow she seemed different. Her stature had changed, her head was held up and it was as if she had been injected with 10ccs of confidence booster. Her cool blue eyes seemed to set a challenge to anyone and everyone, saying - 'Here I am, if you don't like it - tough."

She looked very Aryan now, and all the young officers would start fighting to get into her knickers.

He picked up the telephone and spoke briefly into it.

"A driver will take you there. Two minutes," he told her.

She smiled, and he immediately felt the sexual chemistry she imparted. She had a wonderful smile, and if he hadn't been old enough to be her father, he was sorely tempted to proposition her himself.

Twenty minutes later she was standing before the young Sturmbannfuehrer's desk. He examined her brand new identity papers, and sucked air in through his teeth. He was sitting at a desk, yet even sitting down she could tell he was a tall and sturdy man. Broad in the shoulder and carrying little spare weight. He had very short fair hair, a relic of his Russian front days, when hair attracted all manner of unwanted wildlife. His face was honest and open, but carried the pain of too much horror in such a short time.

Otto Schneider was only twenty-six. However, he had seen action in the Waffen SS in most theatres of war except Africa and the Far east. He had narrowly avoided death on several occasions in Eastern Europe, and his current task was as unpleasant to him as it was to most of those who came through his hands.

A serious shrapnel wound to his left knee took him out of active soldiering. He had joined the Waffen SS straight from the Hitler youth in 1938. Except it wasn't called that then. He had thought Hitler had had all the answers then. Now, he didn't.

He had requested to return to his unit, but his leg injury had precluded that possibility. Given a desk job, and shifted to assist the police unit, he really had no stomach for the task he now found himself doing.

Now he was in pain, disillusioned, and seriously concerned with the future. His parents were dead, his brother, Peter, was in the navy, and hadn't been heard from, for over a year. His sister, Gretchen, was in part of Germany that was likely to be over-run by the Russians very soon, and now he was supposed to interrogate wounded enemy officers and men.

The girl sent to help him arrived just as a fresh batch of captured officers was brought to the holding area. They weren't all wounded, so it was less complicated. He looked up at the girl.

She was strikingly attractive.

Her hair was tidy and her uniform pristine. Her blue eyes were focussed on some point above his head, and her make up was discrete and well applied. He could see that she had removed nail varnish quite recently.

"At ease, fraulein," he said. His voice was quiet and sounded tired.

She relaxed a little.

He handed her the papers back, and stood up. He eased the painful knee as he straightened, he grimaced as the pain coursed through his leg. He grabbed at the silver topped ebony cane that was by his desk. He used it to take the strain from his bad leg.

"Cigarette?" he asked, offering her a pack.

"Thank you, but no. I don't, sir."

"I like your accent. You are not German?"

"No sir. French."

She looked as if she ought to be on a German recruiting poster. It was hard to believe she wasn't even German.

"Then forgive me, how is it that you are here?"

"Long story. I was assisting a Vichy medical unit in France with language problems. It was taken over by a German unit, and moved. I found myself caught up in a massive withdrawal. I ended up here, and the medical unit was moved again without me. I hid when the fighting started, and tried to leave, applying to the police for papers. Your boss found I could speak English, German and French, and enlisted me into the SS auxiliaries."

"So, you didn't volunteer?"

"Not as such, sir."

"That makes two of us!" he muttered.

"Sir?" she asked frowning, she met his eyes for the first time. They were grey and seemed full of pain.

"Nothing. Janine, it is a lovely name."

Jamie blushed.

"Thank you, sir."

"Relax. I'm a soldier, not a fucking idiot like Willi."

Her eyebrows raised, and her mouth twitched. He liked her self-control.

"You may laugh. I'm not a bloody SS butcher. I'm a soldier, sorry, I was a soldier. I was an officer in a SS Panzer unit. I was wounded in Russia, and shipped home in time. I keep applying to go back to my old unit, but the leg won't allow it. Now I'm here playing at pretend policeman, and it is not a job I relish. Mark my words, there will be a reckoning, and many of us will have to pay for those who made us do what we've done."

"Yes sir," she said, but he could discern her distrust and reservations.

Otto laughed. She was so refreshing, a real flower in the barren wilderness.

"Janine. You are not a soldier, so please relax. If we are to work together, we need to understand each other. Please use my first name. It is Otto, and it would make me feel better if you called me that. I will release you from this task as soon as I feel that you can get to safety. But for the meantime we must pretend to be working hard for the glorious Reich!"

"Sir."

Otto grinned at her stubbornness and lit a cigarette, drawing the harsh tobacco deep into his lungs.

"How can such a pretty girl get caught up with this shit?" he asked, his voice sift and caring.

Jamie relented and relaxed a little more.

"Luck, sir, sorry, Otto. Not a lot of it, as it happens."

He laughed.

"So, no boyfriend?"

Her eyes met his, and he saw fear deep within them. The fear was immediately hidden, and replaced with cool reserve.

"No, still intact, and I hope to remain so."

He laughed and coughed, as the smoke went the wrong way.

"Good girl. You must be a one of the very few these days! Well, lets get to work. My English is passable, but not too hot. I need to complete a questionnaire in respect of each POW before they can be sent to a POW camp. Your first task is to help me clear the backlog. I have six junior officers and NCOs doing the work at the moment, but their English is crap, to be honest. So, your assistance comes none too soon."

Otto strapped on his belt with holstered Luger thereon.

"Come on, let's go to the coal face," he said, putting his cap on.

He walked out, his leg causing an obvious limp, Jamie noticed he depended on the cane quite a lot.

She followed, and was very nervous at seeing her former comrades from a different perspective.

The British were all in a temporary holding area. Barbed wire was everywhere, and lines of tents their only shelter. Officers were at one end, and other ranks at the other.

SS guards patrolled, and seemed jumpy.

"They know the war is won, so they keep trying to escape. To be honest, I don't know why we bother. It takes more resources to look after them than we can afford." Otto said.

"The rumours are that you shoot most of them," she said.

Otto looked at her. She was serious.

"Ja, I know. The rumours are probably true. So many bad things happen in war," he said with a sigh.

They went into an old school. The classrooms were now interrogation centres. Barbed wire now covered the surrounds to the playground, and SS guards now stood where teachers had a few months before.

A line of British soldiers stretched out the door, and watchful SS guards fingered their weapons nervously.

Jamie kept her head averted from the watching British, aware that someone might recognise her.

A young Untersturmfuehrer( leapt to attention as Otto entered, and he was waved to relax.

"Sit down Rudi. You are not in training any more!"

The young man was even younger than Jamie. He looked like a schoolboy in uniform.

"Young Rudi Heinmann, he was educated in America. His English is perfect, as long as you appreciate a New York accent," Otto explained. The young man grinned, and returned to his task in hand.

They made their way to one of the classrooms, and a long table was stretched out, with three NCOs completing the paperwork with an officer separate.

He pushed open another door and they entered a room with just one table, and a chair on either side of the desk. A pile of questionnaires was on the desk, and a pen.

"This is your room. They will send in officers one at a time, and all you do is complete the questionnaire. If they refuse to answer a question, just write that in the box. Don't push it. Most will give a name, rank and serial number, and nothing else. Just get what you can from them. Give them the usual bullshit about getting information back through the Red Cross to their families. Some believe it, but not many."

It was warm in the room, so she took off her jacket. She watched Otto's eyes flick to her breasts, and she found she liked the attention. She wished she had more than socks filling out her crisp white blouse.

She then caught that thought and frowned.

"Why did I think that?" she mused.

She looked at the man who had shown that even a German had some human kindness. He smiled at her, and she felt the warmth of her face as a flush came up on her.

She took her hat off, and sat behind the desk. Otto went and briefed the NCO outside. Within a few moments the first officer was brought in. Otto stood in the corner, smoking a cigarette.

The man stood at attention in front of Jamie. She felt very awkward.

He was perhaps twenty four, tired, unwashed and unshaven. His battledress was dishevelled and torn in places. His hands were filthy and he had dried blood on one sleeve.

He was a Lieutenant, and his collar dogs were of the Green Howards. He had been one of the men who had arrived in a glider.

"Sit down please, Lieutenant," she said in English. She tried to ensure that she spoke with a French accent.

The man looked at her, and contempt was evident in his eyes.

"Carter, Michael. Lieutenant. 346372," he said, staring straight ahead.

"Well, Carter, Michael. Lieutenant, 346372. You are now a prisoner of war. Your family may wish to be informed of the fact that you are alive, and that you will be going to a POW camp very soon. I have to complete a form, which is handed to the Red Cross for onward transmission. If you choose to stand there and repeat what I already know, that is fine. Alternatively, you may sit and spend a few moments conversing with me in a civilised manner. It is your choice."

He looked at her, still with little trust, and with a little curiosity.

He sat.

"Thank you, Michael," she said, and smiled.

She indicated the blood on his sleeve.

"Are you injured?"

He glanced at his sleeve, and frowned. She saw the pain and hurt in his eyes. There was a lot of it about!

"Its not my blood. He was my friend."

She met his eyes, and he was surprised to see tears forming in her eyes.

She looked down, and he frowned. The Germans weren't supposed to have human feelings, he thought.

"I am sorry, truly. This is an awful time," she said, and then picked up the pen and started on the questionnaire.

Lieutenant Carter was very confused. He has expected a bully of an SS officer to be conducting the interrogation. Instead, he faced a very pretty girl who spoke very good English. He didn't notice the SS major lounging in the corner of the room. He only was aware of the girl. The questions were unimportant, and few related to military matters. She was pleasant, and seemed genuinely concerned about his and his comrades' welfare.

He intended to answer with nothing but his name, rank and serial number. He spent a very pleasant fifteen minutes conversing with the girl.

In the end, she smiled and thanked him for his time.

"I am sorry about your friend, Michael. We have all lost someone in this stupidity. We can but hope it will end soon!" she said.

He stood, smiled at her, then he nodded and walked out.

Otto smiled.

"I am impressed," he told her, and then dropped his voice to little more than a whisper. "But, you must be careful. If Willi sees that you care, he can be a nasty piece of work. That is about the first time a whole sheet has been filled out. Well done. Now, I have to see to the others." He nodded and walked out.

Jamie managed to get through another ten British officers before Otto called a halt. Fortunately, none were familiar to her. She could see where the questions were leading, and whenever possible she left blanks and omitted important information so as to be of no value to German intelligence.

"Lunch. Will you join me, Janine?" he asked, popping his head around her door. His use of her first name surprised and pleased her.

"Thank you," she said, desperately hungry. They returned to the original hotel, the dining room was now the officers' mess. Jamie had been given the equivalent rank of an Obersturmfuehrer, which made her smile. Promotion the hard way.

He opened the door for her, and for the first time, she enjoyed him treating her like a real lady. She frowned and the shook her head. This was getting serious.

He even pulled out her chair and pushed it in as she sat. They placed their hats on the spare chair.

"So, how did this morning go?" he asked.

"Fine. They are very young, most of them."

"Look around you. English, German, they are all young. I am twenty six, yet I have been lucky to survive so long."

"Was Russia very bad?"

His eyes took on a haunted look. He simply nodded and said nothing.

The mess orderly approached and placed their soup and bread in front of them. Otto asked for a bottle of wine.

Lunch was a watery soup and black bread, followed by a sort of sausage and cabbage stew with potatoes. For Jamie, it was a veritable feast, and she had to slow her eating down in order to prevent calling undue attention to herself.

A useless task, for as the other officers entered, all were astounded at seeing the very attractive girl sitting with the Sturmbannfuehrer.

Her presence sparked off immediate speculation as to her identity and reason for being there. The whisperings were hardly subtle, and Jamie went red when she realised how much attention was being paid to her.

"They haven't seen a good looking girl for some time," Otto said quietly.

"Rubbish. They are just soldiers, and they can't stop thinking about sex," she replied, taking a sip of her wine.

He looked sombre.

"You are right, in part. But most of these men are not soldiers. They haven't the faintest idea what it is like to fight properly. I was in Russia, and that was hell on earth. These boys would curl up and die as soon as look at a Russian assault. Wave upon wave of the bastards - no matter how many we killed, more came. Women, boys and even old men. Anyone who could carry a gun, and boy, could they fight!"

Jamie was silent. It made her life seem tame in comparison.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone on. Not the best conversation for a meal, such as it is." Otto said. He looked at her clean plates.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Starving. I can't remember when I had my last hot meal."

He smiled and lit a cigarette. His eyes seemed focussed somewhere else.

"Have you anyone?" she heard herself ask.

He looked at her. She couldn't tell what was going on behind those steel grey eyes. Perhaps he was deciding whether to tell her, perhaps he was thinking of someone else.

"I had. She was a nurse, and we met after I got this," he hit his bad leg with his fist.

"She was working in the military hospital I was shipped to in Poland, and she helped put me back together again. It wasn't the leg so much as the mind. I couldn't stand the dark, and would end up screaming if the lights went out. She was very patient, and became very close. After a couple of months, I was almost back to normal, so I proposed to her, and she accepted. Two weeks later, she was killed in an air raid. The Russians actually targeted the hospital."

"I'm sorry," Jamie said.

He smiled sadly.

"You weren't to know. I'm sure you have pain in your past."

She nodded as she thought about who she was and who she should be.

"Yes, but not quite like yours," she said. "I don't like the dark either."

He smiled.

"Then perhaps we should share a room, just to keep each other company."

Jamie blushed again, and looked down. When she looked up, he was smiling at her.

"Don't tease me. I really hate the dark," she said, remembering that damn cupboard.

"So do I," he said remembering his traumas after being wounded.

They looked at each other, and she felt that some strange bond had been formed. For the first time she saw a fellow human being, and it was as if the uniform was just irrelevant. She frowned.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing. I am being foolish."

"Tell me, please," he begged.

She looked at him. She didn't know why she felt as she did, and she was confused.

"Please?" he said, leaning closer. His eyes were so gentle, and the pain so evident. She thought he was going to take her hand, and was a little disappointed that he didn't.

"It is just I don't see you as a soldier. I just see the man. See, I told you it was foolishness."

To her surprise she saw the beginnings of tears form in his eyes, and he broke off his gaze.

The moment passed as they were each brought a cup of bitter coffee, and drank it without milk or sugar. The was none of the latter in any case.

"Is the leg very painful?" she asked, changing the subject.

He was surprised at the concern in her voice.

"Sometimes. It is in bed it hurts the most. It goes into spasm."

"Can't they do anything?"

"Probably. I don't know. They patched me up and sent me out to make room for someone worse. If I get a chance, when this stupidity is all over, I'll see if I can get fixed up."

"I hope you can," she said, and smiled.

Otto was confused. He tried to deal with everything on a very shallow level. If he didn't care about anything, then nothing would upset him. The girl was different. She changed the rules, and he was faintly cross, as he found himself caring what happened to her. He had seen the way the Reich used, abused and cast aside people once they had given of their best, and he didn't want her to become such a casualty.

"Will you come with me to the hospital this afternoon?" he asked.

"If I must."

He smiled.

"You don't have to, but I want to try to get this over and done with. Bring some of the questionnaires with you, and hopefully we can get this shocking business over with and get back to what is important."

"Just what is important?" she asked.

He looked at her, pain and sorrow fleeted across his face.

"I don't know, I really don't know any more," he said, and lapsed into silence.

"I am sorry, I have said something I shouldn't!" she said.

He smiled.

"Not at all. I find myself saying things that I haven't shared with anyone, and I find it disconcerting."

"What, my questions, or your answers?" she asked.

"Neither. Dining with a beautiful woman who sees me as an ordinary man and not an SS monster."

Janine went very red.

"Now I've said something I shouldn't have!" he said.

She shook her head.

"I'm not used to being called beautiful," she admitted, quite truthfully.

"Why not? Surely other men have said it to you?"

She shook her head.

"No, you are the first!"

He stared at her in some disbelief. Here was the most attractive young woman he had seen for a very long time. She was bright, intelligent, courageous and quite worldly, and yet in some ways she seemed completely naïve and lost.

"I find that hard to believe."

She smiled that wonderful smile. Completely open and delightful, it made her eyes shine and her white even teeth gleamed in an otherwise very dull world.

"I was rather a late developer, physically, that is," she said.

His eyes flicked to her fine figure and then to her legs, then back to her face.

"Rubbish! I don't believe you. I'll bet you were always the leading lady in your school plays."

Janine blushed very red.

"Ahah. I knew it. You were, weren't you?"

Janine nodded, she couldn't lie, and she smiled at the thought of him finding out the truth.

The truth.

Just what was the truth?

Janine looked at this man, and then around the room. Dark uniformed German officers taking lunch, with white tablecloths, eating watery soup, and meagre stew. Just down the road, her countrymen and comrades were in a compound, lucky to get any food, and knowing the utter despair of being POWs.

Otto sensed some disquiet in this lovely girl.

"Now what have I said?"

She looked at him.

"Nothing. I was just thinking, and that is never a clever thing to do. I was thinking about those British boys, and all the other POWs, from both sides. What is the point of all this foolishness?"

"What indeed? Come on, we've work to finish," he said, putting his hat on, and standing up. He helped pull her chair back, and his hand touched hers. She stopped and looked into his eyes.

"Try to remain objective. I'm told it helps," he said.

"Does it?"

"I don't know, I find it hard too!"

Jamie collapsed onto her bed, totally exhausted, both mentally and physically. It was ten in the evening, and she had grabbed a quick supper and excused herself from the mess. She had met three of her own unit in the hospital, and none of them had recognised her. One of the NCOs had been in her company, and it helped her confidence when he failed to see who she was.

It probably helped that Jamie had only been with the airborne division a matter of weeks, so no one got to know him very well.

She kept catching herself referring to herself as female, and no matter how hard she tried to relate to herself as the male she thought she was, she couldn't do it. It was as if Jamie, the soldier was someone completely different, and that she was a separate individual completely.

She undressed, and hung up the uniform. She eased herself out of the restrictive corset arrangement, and was grateful to slip on the nightdress.

She lay in the dark, tired, yet unable to sleep. It had been a chaotic day, and found her ending it wearing a different uniform and as a different gender to that which she started.

She casually felt her chest, and found that her breasts had swollen a little. They were very tender indeed, and the nipples had enlarged considerably. Her heart raced slightly, and her other hand flew to her crotch.

Initially she could feel no difference, but after gently probing, she could feel that what had been a penis was smaller and now surrounded by folds of skin. Her testes were now absent, the whole scrotum seemed to have parted down the centre into two flaps, and the depression between the legs was more pronounced.

She let her finger run back to near her anus, and the flap of skin she had felt in the morning, was still there. Except now, the flap seemed to cover a small hole or crevice.

She had never seen a vagina, so she was not to know whether she was developing normally or not. She was worried, and had she known that she was actually developing perfectly normally, if a little late, then her panic would have been offset.

In fact, unbeknown to Jamie, she had a complete set of female sexual organs. The male genitalia were in reality an enlarged female clitoris, and the testes were fatty deposits covered by a fused labia. Her ovaries were now beginning to function, albeit somewhat late, and the hormones triggered development that should have occurred many years before.

Jamie was a girl. She was born a girl, but the superficial deformities had caused her to be wrongly sexed. Although the medical profession drew her mother's attention to the problem, she had refused to accept it, and so Jamie had been sentenced to a masculine childhood.

Understandably Jamie was now troubled. Her fingers probed the opening which had recently appeared, she was concerned that she had a serious deformity.

Worries aside, she still fell asleep, such was her fatigue.

The days rolled into a week, October came, and soon she had been working for the Germans for a month. She found Otto a reasonable man, and his attitude towards the 3000 British prisoners was actually very humane. Their intelligence gathering operation was a farce, and after Jamie had sat face to face with men she knew quite well, and not a glimmer of recognition had crossed their faces, she realised that she had changed quite a lot.

Every night she crashed out, exhausted, and slept better than she had for years. Every night she felt her changing body, and was now resigned to the fact that she was definitely never to be a male again.

Someone banged on her door, and Jamie was instantly awake.

Confused for several seconds, she gradually remembered where she was.

"Ja?" she said.

"The Obersturmbannfuehrer's compliments. He wants you and all other officers in the conference room in thirty minutes," said a male voice.

She looked at her watch.

Six thirty.

"Shit!" she said, quietly.

"Danke!" she said for the man at the door.

She washed and dressed. The beard was still absent, and her legs were still clear of hair. Her breasts were very tender this morning, and so much larger that she no longer needed any enhancement to appear a normal shape.

She arrived at the conference centre with three minutes to spare.

Otto came over to her and handed her a mug of coffee and a bread roll.

"I thought you could do with some sustenance." He said with a smile.

She smiled and gratefully accepted his offering.

"What's this all about?"

"Methinks the Obersturmbannfuehrer is getting windy. The Allies are making steady progress and he will be announcing that we would be better placed back in Germany." He told her.

He immediately saw the disconcertion and alarm fleet across her pretty face.

"Don't you want to go to Germany?" he whispered.

She looked at him, and then around at anyone who may be listening. Seeing no one, she shook her head.

"No problem. Lets just see." He said, and smiled at her.

There was a sudden silence as the Obersturmbannfuehrer made his entrance. He walked to the end of the room and told everyone to sit. A couple of young officers were late, and he glared at them.

"As you know, we defeated a concerted attack by the British, and prevented them from taking the bridge at Arnhem. However, our intelligence sources report that a major offensive will be focussed at this area in the very near future, and I have decided to withdraw the SS police units to allow the Waffen SS Divisions to take up defensive positions.

"We will be moving in three days, so screen as many of the POWs as you can, and then we will move. Excess equipment and locally recruited personnel are to be left behind. Only the bare essentials are needed if we are to maintain our normal levels of efficiency.

"My thanks to all who have worked so well over the last few weeks, they have been a trying time for us all."

The Obersturmbannfuehrer made for Otto.

"Otto, I have read your report on this delightful young lady. It seems you have a way with our gallant enemies, my dear."

"I just did what I was told to do, sir."

"Quite. I leave it up to you, Otto. If you want to bring her along, then do so. Otherwise make sure she is well looked after." Willi said, and nodded at Jamie.

He then left the room.

"Bastard!" breathed Otto.

Jamie was confused. Everything she had been told about the Germans, and the SS in particular did not apply to Otto. He loathed the SS and the Nazis, despite the fact that at one time he had believed in Hitler and his message for the future. Mind you, such had been the deep depression that many Germans had believed in the man.

She also found herself liking Otto, and frowned as she realised just how much.

"Come on, let's get out of here!" he said, and took her arm.

They went to his office, and he opened a bottle of cognac.

He poured her a glass as well.

"Here, get some warmth into you."

She drank the fiery liquid, and experienced the warmth spread across her tummy.

"Do you want to come with me?" he asked.

She was confused, as she found that actually wanted to be with him. She didn't want to go deeper into Germany. However, he had put it as a personal question, to go with 'him', not with 'us'!

"I want to go home," she said, in all honesty.

He nodded.

"So do I!" he admitted and poured another measure into his glass. He held the bottle up to her, and she shook her head.

"If I could, I'd like to hang up this fucking uniform and walk away. I can't, but you can."

She nodded.

"Think about it. The Allies have won, the fucking Fuhrer is finished, only he will fight to the last good German, and all the shits will run away to South America and hide with their stolen gold. We will leave in a couple of days. Stay here, and when the allies arrive, just offer your services to them. Who knows, you might even have to interview me when they capture me!" he said with a humourless laugh.

Jamie nodded.

"Mind you, home is not where we thought it was. Where is home for you, Janine?"

She looked at him.

He was right. Home wasn't where she thought it was. With a father who wouldn't probably understand, and a society for whom she would be a freak.

"I'm not really sure," she replied.

"Me neither."

"I think it is where I will make it!" she announced.

He smiled.

"Until then, we need to get back to work. Come on!" Otto said.

They spent the next two days doing the same task. A seemingly endless line of British faces came and went. One, a Captain, was Jamie's company commander, and even he did not recognise the attractive German girl who asked him questions.

As she had been speaking German constantly over the last four weeks, her skills had improved dramatically. So much so that she sounded more German, and most people she came into contact with believed she was German.

On the third evening, she lay in bed, once more feeling the strange things that seemed to be happening to her genitals. She wanted to be a girl now, more than anything else, but still was uncertain what was happening to her. The swell of her breasts was even more pronounced, and as she cupped her hands around them, she could no longer deny the realities of what was going on.

She had packed her clothes, except the uniform. She had left out the dress she had worn that first day. She couldn't sleep. She was very restless and worried. Three things worried her.

The first was her body. She didn't know what was happening, and there was no one to whom she could turn for help and advice.

The second was her predicament. She was ready to be 'let free' but had no idea what to do. If she was becoming female, who in hell would believe her if she turned up and said she was a Second Lieutenant in the Cameron Highlanders?

The third was more complex. She found herself drawn to Otto. He was an enemy soldier, and a man. She was reluctant to say goodbye to him, as she actually liked him as a friend, and as someone she could smile and laugh with.

Over the last few weeks, they had become closer, and Jamie did not understand what was taking place.

On the first floor of the same building, Otto paced the floor in his room.

He was in a quandary.

For the first time since the death of Maria, the nurse, he had actually found a girl who made him feel there was hope for the world. Now he was about to lose her again.

Ever since Janine had walked into his life, it was as if the sun had come out. Her smile warmed him, and her lovely eyes made him almost cry out in joy. He ground out his last cigarette, and made a decision. He opened his door and looked right and left. Then he went to the stairs and rapidly descended to her floor.

Jamie was just dozing off when the slightest tap came from the door. At first, she thought it was her imagination.

Then it came again.

She got out of bed, her heart in her mouth, but all the while hoping against dreading who it must be. She checked her hair, and made sure the wig was secure.

She opened the door.

Otto stood there, with a bottle of cognac and two glasses.

"I knew you would be awake!" he said, and entered the r

oom.

She closed the door. "What are you doing here?" she asked, but secretly very pleased.

"I couldn't just leave you without saying goodbye," he said, and poured the cognac into the glasses.

She took the glass he offered without comment.

He held up his glass.

"To the future, to you!" he said.

"The future!" she repeated and drank some of the brandy.

"Seriously, why did you come?"

"Because I wanted to see you before we part." he said, and put his glass down. He took two paces across the room and took both her hands.

"You are trembling," he observed.

"I'm confused," she admitted.

"Why?"

"Lots of things. You wouldn't understand."

"I want to understand. I want to get to know you so much better," he said, and lifted her hands to his lips. He kissed her fingers, and she felt a strange feeling start in her belly and take possession of her.

Tears of frustration came to her eyes, and he watched as they rolled down her cheek.

He let go of one hand, and caught a tear on his index finger, and lifted it to his mouth.

"Why do you cry?"

She shook her head.

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do! Tell me!"

She looked up at him. His grey eyes were warm and tender.

"I think it is because everything seems against me. I want to do the right thing, but every time, something happens to take me deeper into the shit!" she said, and he chuckled.

"Janine, I think I have fallen in love with you," he said.

She said nothing, but more tears came to her eyes.

"Now I have to leave you behind, I feel totally lost and that is very unlike me. I know we only met a short while ago, but I find myself thinking of you every waking moment!" he told her.

The tears were rolling quickly now, and she sat on the bed. He sat beside her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. He just held her.

He kissed the nape of her neck, and before she realised what was happening, he was cupping a full breast, and gently rolling one nipple between finger and thumb.

Experiencing strange and wonderful feelings for the first time, she drew away from him, and folded her arms across her chest. She was terrified of exposure and of what she was now feeling.

"Don't!" she said, and looked at him with such a worried expression that he immediately felt guilty.

"I am so sorry, I didn't mean to take advantage of you."

She nodded and tried to smile. It didn't work.

"Look, Janine. I'd never hurt you. I do love you, and I want to protect you. I am willing even to desert for you, if that would keep you safe!"

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"I'd die for you!" he said.

She shook her head.

"No, you can't! You don't understand!" She started to cry again, unsure why she was feeling as she was. He took her in his arms, and just held her. She allowed him to, and nestled her head onto his shoulder.

The sobs wracked her body, and he could feel her through the thin nightdress. He was feeling sexually aroused, and he knew that if he tried to force himself on her he would kill any chance of a future.

Her breasts, although not large, were firm and rounded, and he wanted her to want him as much as he desired her.

The sobs subsided, and she broke away from him and went to her bathroom and washed her face. She stared at the stranger who looked back at her from the mirror.

She actually did want him, but knew that she could never let that happen.

She was confused and shocked at the feelings he invoked in her. He was an enemy soldier, she kept telling herself.

She went back into the bedroom, and he watched her from the bed.

"I won't have sex with you!" she announced, bluntly.

He nodded and smiled.

"I didn't expect you to," he said.

That surprised her, a little.

"Not for the reasons you think. It is just there are too many complications. I can't bring more into my life right now!" she said.

He patted the bed.

"Come and sit down. I promise I won't try anything. It has just been a very long time since I was in a bedroom with a beautiful woman."

She sat down, and he took her hand.

"Janine, I am so sorry that I got so physical. I just find you irresistible, and I admit I really desire you. But not at the cost of ruining any chance I have of getting closer to you."

She smiled.

"Otto. I like you, and in other circumstances, I expect we could be so much more than friends. Here and now it is just not possible. If things are meant to be, then perhaps fate will bring us together again. Give me another brandy, and stop me crying like a schoolgirl!"

He chuckled and poured her another brandy.

They drank in silence.

He watched her, and sensed the inner turmoil she was going through.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

She smiled and shook her head.

"No. I can't!"

"Can't or won't?"

"Both. If I could, I wouldn't!

"Why not?"

She laughed.

"I can't tell you that either!"

"A lady of so many secrets," he said, and smiled.

"Shit! This is such a mess," she said in English.

He frowned.

"So, who are you, Janine, really?"

"Really? I don't know myself. I am the product of what happens when someone fucks themselves!" she said, slurring her words.

Otto realised that she wasn't used to fine cognac.

He took the glass from her hand, and kissed her on the mouth.

She drew away and then smiled.

"You said you wouldn't. You lied to me."

He smiled.

"You've drunk too much," he told her.

She nodded.

"Yes, and I am so fucked up, it makes no difference!"

"Why are you fucked up, Janine?"

"Because I don't know who I am anymore. Am I Janine? Am I someone else? I don't know. Am I French? German? British? Does it matter? Where the fuck can I go now? Answer me that, Mr Big-shot-soldier, where do I go now, and who the hell wants me?" she said, tears starting again.

Otto suddenly thought he knew what was troubling the girl. She was a person without a home. The war had taken her home, and now she had nowhere to return to. She had no friends, no family, and no real hope.

"I want you!" he said.

"So, what fucking good is that? Tomorrow you will be gone, and then what? The British and fucking Americans in their new tanks will come along, and the whole thing starts again. I've had enough. I've just about worked out who the fuck I am, and I find that no bugger will want me!"

He was quite shocked at her language and again at the fluency at swearing in German.

"I will stay with you."

"Don't be stupid. Your own side will have no compunction about shooting you, and in that fucking uniform so will the Allies."

"Come with us."

"To Germany?"

"Yes."

"No way. Look, I may be mad, and fucked up. I may even be a little drunk, but I am not that fucking mad."

"Why not?"

"Because Germany is fucked!"

"I agree, but at least we could have a life together."

"Rubbish. You will get shot and I will be raped by a regiment of Highlanders."

He chuckled. She was certainly entertaining when drunk.

"Then what do we do?" he asked.

"We? I intend to offer my services to the glorious allies, and see what happens," she said, and then went quiet.

"Otto?"

"Ja?"

"I, ... I don't want to lose you," she said, in a small voice.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Neither do I."

Jamie awoke when someone banged on her door.

"Oh-six-hundred."

She sat up in alarm, and so did Otto.

She stared at him. They had slept together. He was still wearing his trousers, but had lost his shirt.

"Shit!" she said, and ran for the bathroom.

Otto smiled and reached for his cigarettes, only to find he had run out. He swore, and looked for his shirt.

Jamie stared at her reflection.

She tidied her hair up, and then washed her face. She had a splitting headache, and remembered the cognac.

She sat on the lavatory and had a pee. She discovered that her small opening was a little larger, and her breasts seemed even fuller today, if that were possible.

"I really am turning into a woman," she said to her reflection, and despite all her reservations and concerns she managed to smile.

She came out and found Otto gone. She dressed in a plain dress and packed everything into her case. She went down to the lobby to find chaos everywhere. People were scurrying to and fro, the SS were on their way home, and a huge bonfire was going for all non-essential files.

Otto found her staring around.

"How are you this morning?"

She smiled.

"Just as fucked up, and still with no plans," she said.

"I meant what I said."

"I didn't. I think you got me drunk. You didn't do anything, did you?" she asked.

He smiled.

"I was tempted, but somehow your first time is better when conscious.!"

She went red.

"Seriously, I do love you."

She nodded.

"Yes, I know."

"I need to know, is there any hope?"

She looked into his grey eyes and saw anguish that mirrored what she felt.

"There's always hope, Otto, if fate finds a way, then we will have a future."

"Can you ever love me?" he asked.

"Probably. I think I do already, but now is hardly an ideal time to soul search."

He smiled.

"Join me for a farewell breakfast?"

"Why not?"

They sat and had some bread and jam and the ubiquitous coffee.

He reached out and took her hand. It looked so small in his bigger hand.

"Marry me!" he suddenly said.

"What?"

"Marry me. That way, you get sent to somewhere safe in Germany, and I can come home to you."

"You are lovely, but a fool!" she said, giggling a little. She looked so young for a moment. Otto wanted to take her in his arms so badly.

"Is that a no, then?"

"Yes, it is most certainly a no."

"Pity!"

They finished their meagre repast and walked out into the grey morning.

"So, this is goodbye?" he asked.

She nodded. She wrapped a scarf around her hair.

He handed her a small parcel.

"I was told to look after you, so I have done the best I can. In there is some identification. Papers saying you were an interpreter for the medical corps, and you were taken against your will from France. I have also put in some Dutch Guilders and some French Francs, and one or two little luxuries I was saving for a rainy day. The Allies won't be long, and there will be fighting here. I suggest you come with us for a few miles and then head south and west."

Jamie found tears in her eyes again. She bowed her head so he couldn't see.

He knew she was crying, and he felt the tears in his own eyes.

He lifted her chin, gently, and kissed her lips.

She put her arms around his neck, and let him kiss her properly.

This was her first proper kiss, ever, and it went on a long time. She had seen people kiss, and watched the movies. Nothing prepared for the experience of having his tongue enter her mouth and as she allowed him to explore her mouth, she tentatively did the same to him. She felt things happening to her body that she didn't understand, but she didn't want them to stop either.

She went weak at the knees, and at that moment, the war, her predicament and everything else ceased to matter.

She wanted him with all her heart, mind and body.

Eventually and very reluctantly he broke off, sensing that something had happened.

"Janine, wait for me, please?"

She nodded, slightly breathless and unable to speak.

He smiled.

"I will try to be as quick as I can."

She nodded again.

"I love you, Janine."

"I love you too," she heard herself say.

He stared at her.

"You do?"

She smiled through her tears, and nodded.

Then he was gone.

She was given a lift in a truck for a few miles to the next village and then dropped off. Alone and friendless, Janine took stock of her life.

One thing was very certain.

Jamie Cameron was dead!

He died in Arnhem, and was never coming home.

Janine Chavanay, however, was very much alive and wanted the future to be hers for the asking. She was fed up with other people designing her life.