“Sir, they tied him up, yes, sir, but-” Unable to meet Parish’s own, his eyes went to the floor.

“But, what?”

Müller stared back at Parish defiantly and delivered his coup de grace. “Not all of them lived, sir.” Parish regarded this with horror. His hand went to his mouth and his fingers gripped his cheeks. von Boch moved towards him.

“As you can see, doctor, we are in need of assistance. Our men our sick. Sicker than you or I could ever imagine. “This man.” He pointed to the strapped solider. “He won’t last long. And as you can see, were he to be set free, the implications are unimaginable.”

“He’ll be executed…by morning. That I can assure you,” Parish stammered.

“Only if you were to turn and walk out that door without hearing what I have to say next.”

“The Captain once spoke of turning this camp into a cemetery were a riot to break out. And believe me, Lieutenant, if it comes to that, it’ll be done.”

“Ah, yes. A necropolis…” Zimmer hung his head low. “Indeed…” “But, were you to help, doctor, I could arrange for compensation far beyond your reach.” Parish studied the mad thing in the chair a few moments longer.

“My family goes back a long time, Doctor. In Bavaria, the von Bochs are great landowners. Were you to assist in my research, I can guarantee an estate awaits you after the war larger than this town.

“Right.”