Beneath Gray Skies by Hugh Ashton

your writing’s so good, you’re going to be doing the same for every company in the other regiments as well. There’s a list of times and places with each map. Write that out underneath the map, on the same side. Do this one first, and I’ll have a look at it.”
     
    “Yes, sir.” Obviously his feelings had showed in his voice. The Colonel put a hand on his shoulder.
     
    “You’re a soldier, son, and soldiers don’t complain.”
     
    “I wasn’t complaining, sir.”
     
    “And they don’t answer back, either. I know it’s a lot of work, but over three thousand men are going to be depending on you. And I can assure you personally that if everything goes well, you’ll be remembered.”
     
    “Thank you, sir.”
     
    “That’s better. Now get that first map drawn and let me see it when you’re done.”
     
    David was now a master at sorting out the Colonel’s spidery writing, and he had always found maps fun, when he had a chance to look at them.
     
    “Excellent!” said the Colonel, looking at the finished product. “Just one thing. On all the rest, make the company name a little bigger. No need to do this one again, though.”
     
    “One thing, sir?”
     
    “Yes?”
     
    “The light’s not so good at this end of the room, sir, at this time of the day. Permission to work at my company billet, sir?”
     
    “Sure, why not? Get a couple of men from your company to help you with that table and chair. Take the papers yourself. And Corporal…?”
     
    “Yes, sir?”
     
    “Don’t you dare lose them.” The usually genial voice was as fierce as David had ever heard it. “We all are in deadly trouble if those papers get into the wrong hands. And one of us in particular will be in more trouble than the rest. Know who that one person will be, Corporal?”
     
    “Me, sir?”
     
    “Quite right, son. So keep those papers safe, and nothing will happen to any of us.”
     
    David was soon seated at his table, working hard, and trying to ignore the stares, when he felt the presence of someone close behind him.
     
    “Go away, will you? Or do something useful like steppin’ up and gettin’ me a cup of water. I’m thirstin’ for a drink, and there ain’t no Coca-Cola.” The presence at his back didn’t go away.
     
    “I’m tellin’ you, Private!” said David angrily. Having someone literally breathing down his neck while he was concentrating irritated him, and though he hardly ever used his corporal’s rank to make others do his bidding, he felt now was the time to assert a little authority.
     
    “Sorry, old man,” said Brian. “Just having a bit of a look-see, what?”
     
    “Don’t do it again,” snapped David.
     
    “Don’t worry, I won’t,” replied Brian. “I’ll get you that water, now, shall I?” He went off leaving David wondering just what had been going on. Something was obviously very strange, but he didn’t think it was his place to try and find out too much. After all, Brian was his friend, and there was no better soldier in the unit than Brian. So what was the harm in his friend seeing what they were all going to be doing the next day? None, he told himself, but it wasn’t right, all the same. But it was better for the officers to worry about that sort of thing, all the same.
     
    “Sorry,” repeated Brian, turning up again with the water and handing it to David. “Just got up to stretch the old legs, and saw you hard at work, so I stopped to admire your skill. Damn’ good map, you know,” pointing to a map of the working-class Wedding district of Berlin. “What lucky beggars are going in there, then?” squinting at the paper.
     
    “I’m not rightly sure you should be looking at these, Brian,” a little angrily. He had been told not to lose the papers, after all, so they must be important, and probably not to be looked at by everyone.
     
    “Why, sorry. Are they secret?” but not moving away.
     
    “Can’t tell you for certain if they are, but