The Last Wolf (7 page)

As you can see, I am writing from Craigmore. The weather has been lovely today and Hamish and I went swimming in the sea. The water was very cold and rough and there was a terrific undertow so we had to be a bit careful. It can be quite dangerous sometimes.

There was a storm a few days ago and we collected a lot of driftwood from the beach and carried it up to the barn to dry out for the winter. We use it with the peat for the fires. Some of the wood came from old shipwrecks. There are lots of wrecks off the islands, as I expect you know from when you sailed here.

Yesterday, we took the dinghy out on the loch and fished for trout. Hamish caught six and I caught one and we ate them for supper. Hamish did all the gutting which was very decent of him as I hate doing it.

Tomorrow we are going out mackerel fishing on the sound with our grandfather. We use a line with hooks and trawl it along behind the boat to catch them, so it's easy, really. Hamish and I have been to Glas Uig several times, of course. Last time we fished off the jetty and caught some crabs. The whale's jaw-bone is still there, by the way. I should think it will be there for thousands of years.

Angus, Grandfather's gamekeeper, has been teaching me to shoot and I've been practicing with targets behind the barn. I'm to start with rabbits when I'm good enough – there are millions of them on the island because there are no foxes. Hamish shoots them quite often and then he has to gut and skin them ready for cooking, which is a horrible job.

I hope your exam results were all right.

I couldn't find any spelling mistakes at all in your last letter. You're getting awfully good.

Yes, I learned the piano piece all right. It's a Sonatina by Mozart and quite easy, really. Easier than the Chopin Nocturne.

We have a class called Musical Appreciation at school when we sit and listen to records. They played Beethoven's Fifth Symphony last term and I thought it was wonderful but it must be miles better to hear a live orchestra playing it.

From,

Stroma

24th August, 1937

Dear Stroma,

Thank you for your letter from Craigmore and all your news.

Bruno and I have also learned to shoot at targets, like you. They have teached us at school and we shoot with rifles.

I succeeded with my exams and so I am to go to the Naval Academy. My father is very pleased.

You have made a spelling mistake in your last letter! It should be practising not practicing. I know this only because we were told by our English teacher. He explained the difference to us. I think that English is a very difficult language to spell.

I do not yet know where I will be doing my National Labour Service, but if you will write to my home, the letter will be sent to me. If you find a photo, please send it to me.

From,

Reinhard

6th September, 1937

Dear Reinhard,

I'm glad you passed your exams and got into the Naval Academy. Congratulations.

By the way, it's ‘taught', not ‘teached'. And I don't mind your saying about ‘practising'. I always get it wrong. English can be awfully tricky. Can you say these words right? Cough, bough, rough, plough, tough, dough? They all end in the same letters but every one is pronounced differently.

I shot a rabbit by the woods at Craigmore yesterday and I don't think I ever want to shoot anything again. It was running along happily and when I hit it, it fell down dead. I felt awful when I went to pick it up. It had such lovely soft brown fur and bright eyes. I've hung it up in the outhouse to go stiff and then I'll have to skin and gut it for Ellen our cook, which I know will make me feel even worse.

I hope your Labour Service goes all right. It sounds ghastly.

From,

Stroma

20th October, 1937

Dear Stroma,

Your letter took a very long time to come to me because I am far away from Hamburg. I am working to build a road between Rostock and Berlin. It's not exactly a new one. We are making the old one much wider so that there is room for more cars and lorries. It will be a hundred and fifty kilometres long when it is finished. We work for many hours in one day and at night we sleep in wooden huts or tents. It's not so bad but I have many aches with muskels and many cuts and bruises. They give us good food after we have finished work and we are always very hungry.

You should not be sorry about the rabbit. You killed it very quickly so that it will not have suffered at all. I think there must be too many of them on the island because you have no foxes, and they must eat a lot of grass and crops. The farmers will thank you.

I showed your list of words to someone here who has been in school in England and he told me how to pronounce them and their meaning. What a language you have! I should teach you German instead. It's much more easy.

I do not think I shall be able to return to Hamburg for Christmas but must continue to work with the Labour Service. But my father has written that he believes I will be permitted to start at the Naval Academy early which would be very good.

I am sending this to your school because, by now, you will be back there. Perhaps you are going to Craigmore for this Christmas? I remember you said that sometimes you go there.

From,

Reinhard

PS. Where is the photograph?

23rd November, 1937

Dear Reinhard,

Thank you for your letter. I hope you finish your road work soon.

You spelled muscles wrong, by the way, and it's ‘easier' not ‘more easy'. Easy, easier, easiest. English must seem difficult to a foreigner. But at least we don't have cases or genders and there's only one way to say ‘you' since we stopped saying thee and thou. Not like it is in Latin or French. And I bet German is hard. I know you have tremendously long words.

We're not going to Craigmore for Christmas this year. My father is too busy at the hospital. I do wish we were, because Christmas is so lovely in Scotland. My grandmother decorates the house with greenery and we have big fires in all the rooms and candles everywhere. And we always have a huge Christmas tree. The men cut down one on the estate and carry it into the house on Christmas Eve. It always goes in the same place in the hall and we always put the same decorations on it every year. New Year's Eve is fun too. My grandparents give a party and somebody plays the bagpipes and everybody dances Scottish reels. They all drink gallons of whisky, of course.

Kipper grew a lot while I was away at school. He's a beautiful cat and has big green eyes. I'm glad we kept him.

Hamish and I wish you and Bruno a Happy Christmas and a Happy New Year!

From,

Stroma

PS. I cut a bit out of our school photograph taken at the end of the summer term. I'm in the middle row, third from the right. Isn't the uniform hideous?

15th December, 1937

Dear Stroma,

I was very pleased to receive your letter and to have the photograph.

It is not very easy to see you, but thank you for sending it to me. I agree that the uniform is not very beautiful, but you are.

Yes, you are right, German does have some very long words – sometimes they are several words put together – but our grammar is very logical which makes it easier in other ways. (You see that I have now learned not to say more easy.)

The road that we are making wider will soon be finished – perhaps in January. Afterwards, we will be going to work in the forests to cut down trees and clear the land. I am very used to the hard labour now, and to the cold weather as well. There has already been snow. We are all very strong from the work. I could easily carry you for a long way now. Also, I have grown taller. You will never catch me up.

I am sorry that you will not be going to Craigmore for Christmas. I shall not be able to return to Hamburg either. Hamburg is very beautiful at Christmas, also. We have Christmas trees, like you, and everything is decorated and lit with many candles, and there is always a special Christmas market with very good things to eat and hot wine with spices to drink. I think you would like it.

I wish you and Hamish and all your family a very Happy Christmas. Frohe Weihnachten!

And I hope you have a very happy New Year.

From,

Reinhard

In January, Reinhard was released early from his National Labour Service to begin his naval training. There was, apparently, an urgent need for young men to train as naval officers; the programme had even been drastically shortened to meet the demand.

During a week's leave at home, his father talked with him.

‘Germany must be fully prepared for war, if necessary, Reinhard. Personally, I don't care much for our Führer and his party, but if they can end our twenty years of humiliation and suppression by the Allies, then I'm prepared to go along with them. Our country was treated shamefully at Versailles. They took away our land and all our resources and we have every good reason to rebel against those injustices.'

Reinhard said, ‘The English don't seem very anxious for another war.'

His father agreed. ‘The British lion is dozing peacefully at the moment, but if we poke him with a big enough stick he will wake up and roar. That is why our new U-boat force must be ready. Those pathetic little two hundred and fifty tonne submarines that we have been allowed in our navy will be useless against the British Royal Navy. Fortunately, much larger and better U-boats are being built. They will be able to roam the oceans and you will be with them, Reinhard. Naturally, you are prepared to serve your country with unswerving loyalty?'

‘Naturally, Father.'

‘I expect nothing less. The Academy will instruct you in every aspect of seamanship, and the U-boat Force will make a submariner of you. It will be a hard road and a very tough and dangerous life – make no mistake – but it will be worth it. U-boat crews are men apart. The best of the best.' His father clapped him on his shoulder. ‘You are already considerably taller than me, Reinhard. Don't grow any more. It's a nuisance for a U-boat commander to keep bumping his head.'

Bruno was envious. ‘I'll be stuck at lousy school for three more years. If there's a war, it'll be over by then.'

‘It may not even start.'

But Reinhard believed that it would. It was regrettable but inevitable. Germany would be forced into it if anything was to be achieved, and their fight would be against big odds. The German Navy would have to take on the whole might of the British Navy, as well as the ships of England's Allies. And for all their show of reluctance, the Americans might eventually join the battle, too.

The night before he left Hamburg Reinhard went to the city's red-light district – no longer forbidden to him now that he was over eighteen. He swaggered boldly down the Reeperbahn and into the Herbertstrasse, the most expensive street where the girls were said to be the most beautiful. He chose one of them, sitting by her lighted window. He chose well. The girl was not only beautiful but a good teacher, and he was a star pupil, she told him, admiringly. It was a great pity, she said, that he was going away. Afterwards, he visited several bars and drank a lot of beer before ending up in a smoky dive in a narrow side street called Grosse Freiheit where he learned a good deal more from the explicit acts performed live on stage. It was five in the morning before he returned home.

The next day, he took the train north to Flensburg, nursing a thumping hangover. Checking through his pockets for his papers, he came across the cut-out photograph that Stroma had sent him. He held it up to examine it again, turning it towards the light from the window. She was half-hidden behind a tall girl standing in front of her. All he could see was a bit of her face, a bit of her hair and quite a lot of the hated uniform which, he had to agree, looked completely hideous. He had written to her in January and she had replied in early February – a few lines from her boarding school. She had found only one mistake in his letter, so his English must be improving. He had written another letter just before he left Hamburg.

The initial training for officers would take place on an island in the Baltic, and he had already heard from his father what lay in store and how tough it was. Physical fitness was essential – fortunately, he was very fit from his Labour Service. He could expect harsh conditions and brutal treatment from NCOs, endless drilling, saluting, parading, press-ups, inspections, long and gruelling route-marches laden with packs and rifles. One test of strength and character was to hold up a heavy iron bar while an electric current was passed through it. The considerable pain must be endured without dropping the bar.

Afterwards, he would be doing three months' training on a Navy sailing ship. He knew a good deal about smaller boats, but this would be rather different. The training ship had very tall masts, at least forty metres high, and cadets would be required to swarm up the rigging to the very top. Luckily, he had a good head for heights. If he didn't kill himself falling off the rigging, he would proceed to Mürwik for the officers' course at the Naval Academy. Another tough course, he had been warned. ‘He who wishes to command must first obey' was a much-quoted slogan and one that must be learned quickly in order to progress. After that – with luck and his father's considerable influence – he would be assigned to the Ubootwaffe at Kiel.

He put the photograph away and watched the dull flat countryside go by, thinking about Stroma. She would write to him again, eventually, in her scrawly writing, the paper spattered with blots and smudges, giving him random scraps of news and correcting his English. He loved her – he knew that; he had done almost since he had first set eyes on her. But what chance or hope was there that anything could ever come of it? He wondered how much longer even their unlikely correspondence could continue. How long before a war between their two countries put an abrupt end to it?

‘That German chap's not still writing to you, is he?' Hamish said. ‘I thought he'd stopped long ago. What the hell's he up to now?'