SS-Stammlokal

It was not unpleasant to dine with Rolf Schneider. Schneider was chatty and humorous, as always. Martin tried his best to listen more than talk, which was hard considering how many questions Schneider directed at him.

The Wirtshaus (bar-restaurant) was full of other SS men who all laughed and dined together. The atmosphere was friendly - this was one of the Stammlokale (a regular/local Wirtshaus) for the German occupants. There was absolutely nobody in the entire Wirtshaus that didn't raise their right arm with pride when they greeted each other - they were Hitler's men all the way. Martin was the only one who didn't fit in, but his face, clear blue eyes, and the handsome smile that played on Franz's lips did.

"Franz," the two had started to call each other by their first names, "I don't want to talk business, not on a night like this, but I'm afraid I must. Professor Hirt said you were going to accompany him to the camp, I wanted to congratulate you on that, it's a wonderful opportunity."

"Thank you," Martin said. What else was there to say? There was no appeal to go there for Martin, but he didn't know how to decline. He had the feeling that declining such an offer wouldn't only arouse suspicion in his comrades but also damage their pride. He'd been selected to accompany and support Hirt once the time was right and everything was set up. "Has he told you about any of his plans for the gas chamber?"

Martin almost choked on the sip of beer he'd been drinking. "Gas chamber?" He asked in surprise and horror.

"Yes. He hasn't? Fair enough, we haven't discussed any details. He'll tell you in good time." Schneider handed Martin a napkin to cough into. "Do you enjoy working in Strassburg?"

"Yes," Martin croaked, his chest still hurt from the strain of swallowing beer the wrong way, "

«Comrade Hirt has made sure that I feel at home. And the…research is…going well. It's interesting. Not exactly in my field but, I have learned a lot."

"I'm happy to hear that. I think you'll enjoy the collection, but we shouldn't speak of that here. Not in public." He flashed Martin a charming smile and then, as a waitress passed, told her politely that they were ready to eat. Martin had no idea what "collection" that Schneider was talking about, but since the man didn't address it again he pushed it to the back of his mind and focused on the task of not making a fool out of himself.

"How's Marlene?"

"She's doing well, and so are the children. I went to visit them last weekend." He cringed at the memory. Marlene had been quite touchy, and although he was in Franz's body he still didn't want to get too close to her. Especially not because Franz's body was used to reacting to her in a way that Martin despised. He wished he could explain it to her, to tell her that Franz had died in the trenches in the early part of the Second World War – but how could he? He was right in front of her in flesh and blood.

"I'm glad to hear that. I'm going to get married as well." Schneider said with a smile, "I asked her father a few weeks back and yesterday I spoke to Linda. She was delighted. I've never seen a girl so excited before."

"That's…nice."

"Yes, I'm quite fond of her. She's a bit young and very naïve, but she'll serve as a good housewife."

"How old is she, if I may ask?"

"Twenty-four," Schneider replied with a smile. He was about the same age as Franz – which was almost twice the age of the girl he was going to marry. Martin didn't know what to say. "She'll be good for a few more years."

"Marlene is still wonderful now," Martin replied dryly. He'd never liked people who looked down on others, and Scheider's comment had been sexist and almost degrading.

"Yes, but Marlene is also a very witty girl. I was jealous when you married her." Schneider replied with a small smile. "I don't know if I ever told you, but we grew up in the same village." Martin didn't like where Schneider was going with this. It felt like he was always trying to provoke Martin. Something told the young man in question that Franz would never have allowed someone to speak of his family in such a way.

"Funny," he said with a polite smile that did not reflect his next words in any way, "she never mentioned it. She must have forgotten or never noticed."

Schneider smiled and dipped his head a little. He knew that he'd just gotten the polite but sharp equivalent of a verbal slap across the face. "The food here is always good. You've been here before?"

"No, never,"Martin replied. He watched Schneider closely for a few seconds as if trying to figure the man out, then he decided it was not worth the uncomfortable tension to continue chatting about any of these things. He changed the subject entirelyand asked about hiking or rather, walking trails nearby.

"They aren't very close to here, but there are some good trails that my son Eldar goes on with his group," by group Schneider meant with the other boys in the Hitlerjugend group that Eldar was in. Martin hadn't known that Schneider had a son, and so he made a mental note to ask Professor Hirt about it. Perhaps Schneider was divorced – which was unlikely, or he was a widower. It would explain his urge to get remarried.

"I'll take anything. I haven't been hiking in a while. I need to clear my mind. Work is exhausting." Martin admitted, "But I do appreciate it. And I can't thank you enough for giving me the position, Rolf."

"Wonderful. Now where is the food? I'm starving."

"So am I. I haven't eaten all day. Sometimes I forget the time working in the lab."

"You won't be disappointed, the food here is delicious. I almost wish I hadn't eaten lunch so I could have more of it."

Martin laughed. The tension between them that had sparked as Schneider had made the snide comment about Marlene had fully disappeared. And after the third round of beer, they were talking about things that Martin didn't remember. He more and more suspected that he wasn't alone in Franz's mind and that a ghost or shadow of the man who'd controlled this body before him was still in there somewhere. In no time the food was served.