[August]

Making his hourly rounds of the guard posts Corporal August pauses along the castle parapet above the dormitory and looks out toward the POW cage. The bright moon light glinted off the helmets of the sentries as they marched along the fence.

Suddenly in the distance he could hear the mournful howl of a wolf and the sentries all stopped in their tracks. Their Alsatians, normally straining at their leashes, instead huddled against their legs, whimpering and whining, with tails tucked between their legs. Only for a moment though, before German discipline reasserted itself and both beast and master continued on their patrol.

August shuddered. Whether it was from the icy winds blowing off the sea or from half remembered childhood nightmares, he could not, or would not, say but he turned up the collar of his Great Coat and continued his rounds, wondering what the daylight would bring.