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.They filed into the hut and looked about them.The inside was clean and well fitted, the wood bright and new and sweet-smelling.Along the sides of the hut were wide benches with chairs in front of them.There were also three desks, a filing cabinet, and several typewriters.An interrogation centre? An office? It could be anything.‘Be seated!’The prisoners looked around in surprise.You were not usually asked to sit down.One prisoner sat on the floor.The SS sergeant snapped, ‘On the seats! The seats!’When they were sitting down, an officer came in, and behind him, a soldier carrying a heavy object under a cover.The object was placed on a bench.The officer faced them, his body erect, his manner efficient.‘Under the direct orders of Reichsfuehrer-SS Himmler, this laboratory is to function forthwith! You, as prisoners of the Reich, are to serve in it to the fullest of your ability.’David stared, dumbfounded.They were to work here! It was incredible.The significance of Meyer’s presence suddenly dawned on him.Another top scientist … It must mean scientific work.Incredible!The officer was saying, ‘You will work on projects that will be assigned to you.Your first is here.’ He indicated the object on the workbench.‘We have obtained a device from an enemy aircraft.You are to dismantle it, examine it and analyse your findings.We must know what it does, how it does it, and the way to produce it.’David’s heart lifted with hope.This was a genuine scientific project, requiring careful analysis … And by skilled scientists like him and Meyer.That meant they would be treated as special prisoners and not returned to the main camp.Yet a part of him waited, listening carefully.Nobody who survived in this place ever believed what they were told.One must always wait and see.There could be a catch somewhere.There usually was.The officer continued, ‘Now, you are all qualified in this type of electronics, is that correct?’Nobody was likely to admit they weren’t, David thought wryly.‘Your leader will be—’ he looked at his list ‘– Meyer.You will work under him.You will obey him.Is that understood?’They stared blankly.No-one dared to speak.‘You will ask Sergeant Klammer for any equipment you may need.This project is of great importance.Herr Himmler himself is in personal control, you understand.You will work with all speed and concentration.You will produce results that will be of the highest excellence.Any questions?’There was silence.Questions were not usually encouraged, they had got out of the habit of asking them.The officer nodded and was turning to leave, when a voice said, ‘Yes, I have a question.’David looked round nervously.It was Meyer.He was standing, looking straight at the officer.Silly old fool, David thought, why did he have to open his mouth! All eyes swivelled back to the officer.But there was no irritation on his face, no anger.Instead there was a slight pause and the officer said, ‘Yes?’Heads turned back to Meyer.The old man said, ‘To work efficiently, we will need better quarters and better rations.I cannot have half my team down with disease and malnutrition.’ His voice was steady and surprisingly clear.David thought: My God! You amazing old man.What a nerve.The eyes returned to the officer.He was nodding.‘Agreed.’Just like that.Then they were left alone to make a list of their technical requirements.They sat in a group round Meyer and looked at each other, searching each other’s faces for confirmation of what they couldn’t yet believe.One man – his name was Richter – was sobbing violently, his head down on his knees, overcome by the improbability of it all.David was still looking for the catch, and at last he had it.When they had analysed the device, when the work was done, suppose there were no more of these projects? What would happen then? They wouldn’t be kept here.No, they would be taken back to the main camp, back to the quarry.It would be twice as bad, having to go back.And yet … the work would take several weeks, maybe months … And a month in this place was a very long time indeed.Long enough to start hoping that it would last for ever …It didn’t occur to David that there was anything wrong in wanting to work until Meyer said, ‘Whether or not we feel it is right to be involved in this project, we have no choice—’The moral aspects hadn’t entered David’s mind.Here in this camp matters of principle were irrelevant, ridiculous even.You didn’t consider whether things were right or wrong: if you did you would die of outrage.Wrong—? The idea had never occurred to him.Did it bother him, that he would be aiding the Nazis against their enemies? Did it matter when Jews were fighting for their very survival?The answer was very simple.It came to David when his clean new uniform was issued to him, when he was able to take his first real shower in a year, when he had his first decent meal in as many months, and when he saw the sleeping quarters – clean, fresh, with individual bunks and a flushing lavatory.Then everything was very simple.You knew what you had to do: you had to survive.If you refused to work, someone else would take your place.A single gesture of defiance would change nothing.That night, as he lay on his clean, sweet-smelling bunk in the sleeping quarters, he wept a little.Mainly from relief, but also from pity, both for himself and for his fragile pathetic hopes for the future, rekindled after so long.He thought of Cecile and Ellen and tried to imagine what their lives were like without him.It was more than a year since he’d seen them.When finally he fell asleep he dreamed that he invented a magical device which would win the war for Germany.Suddenly he was a hero, he was freed from the camp and given the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves.But when he looked at himself he discovered, with horror, that they had given him an SS uniform.He told them it was a mistake and tried to tear it off, but the black cloth was stuck to his skin and as he tore at it, his flesh came away in his hands …He woke with a start, his heart beating wildly.He thought: Is what I’m doing so bad? But no, it couldn’t be, it really couldn’t be.What would be bad would be to give his secret away; the small package of microfilm: that would be unforgivable.The next morning, after roll call, David asked to collect something from his old hut.It was a request that would have been inconceivable two days before, but now they let him go
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