Hanging on

said.
        "Certainly, certainly," Kelly said, nodding stupidly.
        Major Kelly sensed the friction between the two officers and thought he understood at least part of the reason for it. In the last year the German army, the Wehrmacht, had begun to lose nearly all of its battles to superior Allied forces. Meanwhile, the Waffen SS, the independent army which the SS had built despite Wehrmacht objections to this usurpation of its role, was still winning battles. Therefore, Hitler had begun to trust more in the Waffen SS and less in the Wehrmacht. The traditional army lost power, while the Waffen SS grew larger and more formidable. Hitler favored the Waffen SS in every case: officer promotions, weapons development, funds, weapons procurement, the requisitioning of supplies… And now as the Allies pressed closer to the fatherland, Hitler had given the SS permission to observe and oversee selected Wehrmacht units. A contingent of these black-uniformed fanatics now often accompanied a traditional army unit into battle- not to help it fight the enemy, but to be sure it fought exactly according to the Führer's orders. Naturally, the Wehrmacht hated the SS, and the SS hated the Wehrmacht. This was interservice rivalry carried to a dangerous extreme.
        Kelly suspected that this institutionalized hatred was compounded by a deep personal antagonism between Rotenhausen and Beckmann. Indeed, he had the strong feeling that neither man would hesitate to kill the other if the time was ripe and the opportunity without peril. And that was no good. If the krauts were so insane that they were ready to kill each other, how much closer must they be to ruthlessly slaughtering innocent French villagers, priests, and nuns who got in their way?
        Kelly twisted his hat more furiously, wringing it into a shapeless lump of sweat-stained felt
        "Too much attention to rules and form makes dull minds and witless soldiers," Beckmann said. He tried to make it sound like the prelude to a pleasant debate, but the goad was quite evident. "Wouldn't you say that is true, General?" Beckmann asked. He knew that, while Rotenhausen outranked him, the terror induced by the SS image would keep the other officer from responding as he might have to a subordinate officer in the Wehrmacht. "Don't you want to venture an opinion, Kamerad Rotenhausen?" He used the Kamerad only to taunt the General, who was not a member of the Nazi Party.
        "Gewiss, Sagen Sie mir aber, bekomme ich einen Preis, wenn meine Antworten richtig sind?" The general's voice contained a note of sarcasm which even Kelly could hear.
        The major had no idea what Rotenhausen had said. But the tone of voice had made Beckmann pale even more. His lips drew tight and curved in a vicious rictus as he fought to control his temper.
        Kelly nearly tore his hat to shreds.
        "Nein," Beckmann told the general. He maintained his false serenity with a bit more ease now. "Sie bekommen keinen Preis…"
        Rotenhausen smiled slightly. Whatever the nature of the brief exchange, however meaningless it had been, the Wehrmacht officer plainly felt that he had gained the advantage.
        But around Beckmann, the air seemed charged with a very real if well restrained violence.
        The two Wehrmacht oberleutnants who were Rotenhausen's aides stood at attention by the door to the kitchen hallway. They exchanged angry looks with an SS Haupt-sturmführer and an Obersturmführer, Beckmann's aides, who stood stiffly by the front door.
        Though he was unaware of the fine points of the situation, Major Kelly knew that he must change the subject, get the two men thinking about something besides each other. "Will there be more officers who will require quality lodging for the night?" he asked Rotenhausen.
        The general seemed to be relieved to have an excuse to break off his staring match with Beckmann. "Other officers? But already we have put out the other priests who live here, rousted your housekeeper from her room. We would not want to inconvenience you even further."
        "It would be no inconvenience," Kelly said. "And… will your men want shelter for the night in the homes of my people?"
        "Not at all," Rotenhausen said, dismissing the suggestion with a wave of his hand. "We would not dispossess nuns and deaf-mutes for the convenience of soldiers. Besides, Father Picard, I am known as a tough commander. My men must be constantly