Official Report
British Intelligence
Code: 3986
Kathleen Winfred
One of the new prisoners had lice. Apparently, the girl was a transfer from another prison and had brought the bugs from that place.
This occurred soon after my experience with having my hair washed by Pirot.
The prisoners were brought out and stood in a line, to each file forward and be checked for the tiny pests by a woman in a nurse's uniform. Von Steubon stood to the side, watching the process.
His irritation was evident; his jaw was set and his frown was deeper even than usual. He looked as if someone had given him something sour to eat. He must be quite upset that this had to occur just before the inspectors arrive in two days.
When it was my turn to be checked, I held my head high, stepping as primly as possible to the chair, where the nurse sat me as she checked my hair.
I kept my head high, and, catching Von Steubon's eye, gave him a jaunty grin, feeling gleeful inside as his expression of displeasure deepened.
I think he still remembered me as the one who threw up all over his boots.
YOU ARE READING
Winfred
Historical FictionThe Women's Guard, The Soldier, The Nazi, The Spy. The Spy turned Prisoner. As they say, dead men (or women, as the case may be) tell no tales. But Kathleen Winfred isn't dead; she managed to escape. Now, the story of her capture by Nazis in occup...
