Johann was woken up by the sounds on the platform when the train arrived at the Austrian-Italian border in Occhiobello. The train was still in Italy, as the numerous Italian flags he could see through a gap in the curtain told him. He knew the procedure too well: first Italian policemen checked passports, then customs officers asked for goods to be cleared through customs. Those who were not travelling in first class were rudely jolted out of their shallow sleep for these questions, into which even those seated eventually fell due to the monotony of the driving noises. Johann pushed the curtain aside a little more: the Italian officials left the train. Relatives waved to those who had boarded, those who had arrived were taken lovingly into their arms. No one would be waiting for him in Vienna, Johann thought, because his family had to assume he was in the south, if they had received any news at all about the supposed North African trip.

Slowly, the train started to move, covering the distance of not quite a kilometre over the large railway bridge over the Po to the railway station of Occhiobello, which now already greeted them with Austrian flags and the familiar double-headed eagle with the gold-backed heads. Austrian border guards and customs officers would now do the same as their Italian colleagues, if necessary, confiscating illegally smuggled goods or forcing people without valid passports to disembark. They would then be escorted back to Italy over the footbridge. Johann had noticed this repeatedly on his last trips home, and he had often pondered whether it was because the Italian officials did not check enough or whether they deliberately let some travel on just to test or annoy their Austrian colleagues. Johann closed the curtain again, turned to the other side and went back to sleep.

Shortly after seven o'clock there was a knock at the door, the conductor served breakfast on a tray: a pot of tea and two Kipferl on a plate with butter and apricot jam in two small bowls. Johann wanted to take the tray, but the conductor said formally: "Good morning, Reverend, it is not customary to take the tray yourself. I will serve. If you will please wait in the corridor for a moment." Johann followed the request and met Staff Sergeant Winter again in the corridor.

He would not make the mistake that had ended yesterday's conversation so abruptly. With military men, it was apparently not appropriate to speak too openly. One should - as with some of one's Roman professors - weigh every word well and perhaps rather work one's way through trivia to central issues. "Good morning, staff sergeant. I hope you slept well." Winter, whose blond hair stood a little unruly to the height, replied amiably, "Thank you, it was very comfortable."

Well, Johann thought, perhaps the question was not so clever after he himself had been able to sleep alone and undisturbed in the luxurious compartment, while the sergeant had lain with others in the compartment and possibly checked the corridor a few more times at night. "I hope none of your compartment mates were snoring too loudly."

Now Winter's face brightened a little, "I'm used to sleeping in barracks with eleven other soldiers in a room, so the ride in the 6-person compartment was downright quiet. I ask you to excuse me now. The lieutenant colonel is expecting me." At this he pointed to three newspapers he held in his hands: "Morning reading. I bought them in Venice when we stopped there two hours ago." After Winter's knock was answered with an "Come in," he stepped into the adjacent compartment and closed the door behind him.

By now the conductor had also finished and asked Johann back into the compartment. He was astonished to see that not only was a small tablecloth spread out and the individual parts of the breakfast nicely arranged on it, but the bed had also been dismantled and turned back into a bench. The conductor closed the door and left Johann to the delicious pastries and strong-smelling tea. Johann grinned when he saw the somewhat crude but so typical service made of Gmundner ceramics. The Austrian Federal Railways had decided to prefer this Upper Austrian brand to the porcelain used for lunch and dinner for breakfast in the dining car and also in the first-class compartments.

Johann had just drunk the last sip of tea when there was a knock at his door. At his invitation, the door was opened, and Staff Sergeant Winter stepped into the frame of the door: "The Herr Oberstleutnant would be pleased if you would come to his compartment at eleven o'clock so that you have some time to discuss things before going to the dining car for lunch at twelve o'clock." "Thank you for the kind invitation," Johann said, with a jaunty wink, "into which you have turned his order. Will you eat with us?"

Winter shook his head, "That is not planned. But I have something for you here that I also bought in Venice." With these words he took a small bar of chocolate from his jacket and handed it to Johann, "To keep your concentration."

Johann was astonished when he entered Lieutenant Colonel Bruscheck's compartment because it was twice the size of his own, which had already seemed exquisite to him. In this compartment, in addition to the small table by the window, the bench and the boxes, there was a desk with an armchair behind it and a bench in front of it, a lamp with a green glass shade on it, and a small house bar containing five bottles of spirits and some matching glasses in wooden anchors to keep them from sliding around even if they were shaken. Bruscheck, noticing Johann's stupefaction, explained while gesturing him to sit on the bench opposite the desk: "In every First-Class sleeping car there is also a diplomatic compartment, which has been somewhat upgraded for work." As if to emphasise the point, he folded up some printed sheets spread on the desk next to the newspapers and then sat down on the armchair behind the desk. "Staff Sergeant Winter told me that you were interested in my military career. I didn't get that impression at all during our conversation yesterday. Possibly that's also because I could be your father and therefore you talk to me differently than you would to someone your own age, although it's not usual for us to talk to non-commissioned officers about their superiors."

Was this now a reprimand? Why had Winter also told his commander about the demand? Johann really had to be even more careful with whom he spoke about what in future.

"I will organise a meeting in Lemberg with the military priest there, who can give them some tuition in military manners. Not that you have to get used to these forms, far be it from me, but so that you understand how our system works. NCOs are an important group, they implement orders and organise daily operations. But they lack the vision of the officer, the creativity of the commander, who learns to assess situations and use his forces accordingly."

Johann wanted to retort irritably that there was probably some contradiction there, because if they were allowed to organise daily life, then surely they should also have some judgement and "creativity", but it was clear to him that even the most well-meaning officer would have to interpret such a statement as an insult to him.

"I understand. And of course, I'm very grateful for your efforts in letting me in on the background of her profession."

"Yesterday you asked me why I had become a soldier. And I don't want to avoid this question, but the answers are also not so simple that I want to address them in front of everyone in the dining car. My father, grandfather and great-grandfather were Austrian officers. My educational path was therefore clearly predetermined: After military high school, I attended the Theresian Military Academy and was an enthusiastic soldier in the army of the First Republic and the Austrian Federal State, believing that even in a greatly diminished republic one could share in the glory of soldiering that my ancestors stood for in the imperial army. My dream ended with the occupation of Austria in 1938. Reluctantly but obediently, I took off the Austrian uniform and put on the German one. As a tank artilleryman, I was first deployed on the Western Front, then in the Balkans, Albania and Greece. I never doubted, and still do not, that the use of military force can serve a higher goal and is therefore legitimate, even required. I have also had enemy soldiers fired upon, and even killed myself, in order to fulfil my mission. But the violence against civilians that I have seen, the abysses of hatred and calls for revenge that I have seen glowing last from the dull eyes of mothers whose children had been gunned down as partisans before their eyes, this violence has made me an enemy of my own profession, my comrades and my oath."

Johann was astonished. He had expected a lot, detailed descriptions of the individual training steps and the advantages of the various garrisons in which Bruscheck had been active, but this clear and open speech astonished him. Had Staff Sergeant Winter confirmed the trustworthiness of the priest to his superior in the same way as he had, conversely, positively portrayed the lieutenant-colonel last night?

The lieutenant-colonel continued: "At the beginning of 1942, after a staff meeting in Constanţa, which I had attended as an adjutant, I was taken by my superior to a meeting with the Turkish consul stationed there. As it turned out later, he was also a middleman to the Red Army. All further details are uninteresting, but I then found myself on the side of those who had set the liberation and independence of Austria as their goal, against the German oath that had been forced upon me, but in full harmony with the Austrian oath that was still valid for me. The further course of history is certainly known to you."

As if it were a history exam - although the end of the First World War and the subsequent peace treaties were the last events covered there - Johann took up the ball: "After the Japanese occupied Hawaii in June 1942, the USA, through Soviet mediation, immediately made peace with the empire, which was superior in terms of naval and aeronautical technology. The forces that had been freed up were now concentrated in Europe on fighting Germany. Through massive support of the resistance movements in the territories occupied by Germany and through direct military action. On 28 February 1945, the military putsched, and Admiral Friedeburg announced the immediate and unconditional cessation of all hostilities on the same day. After fierce fighting within Germany, Nuremberg was captured on 24 March. While the Red Army laid siege to Berlin, the military government seized Adolf Hitler and all the ministers who had fled with him in the direction of Berchtesgaden and handed them over to the Allies to await their turn. This final act of self-liberation not only saved thousands from further senseless fighting, but it also laid the foundation for the reorganisation of Central Europe. On 13 April 1945, Federal President Miklas declared the imposed Anschlussvertrag void and Austria restored. With the conquest of Cologne by French troops, Hamburg by the British and the capture of Berlin on 9 May by the Soviet Union, the war also ended in Europe, three years after peace in the Pacific."

Bruscheck nodded: "You have forgotten the conquest of Munich by the US Americans. It was precisely they who wanted to ensure the greatest triumph at the site of the infamous Munich Agreement, but unfortunately domestic politics caught up with the military. All Austrian soldiers were investigated with regard to their involvement in National Socialism before being readmitted to the Austrian military. Although I admit that for some of my comrades this check was not as thorough as I had wished. However, it was clear to me that I wanted to return to my profession as a soldier. And this time - also in view of the horrors of war that I had experienced myself - as a servant of international peace. And Austrian neutrality is for me the standard of this service. But," the officer said, glancing at his watch, "it is time to go to lunch. We will talk about a more innocuous subject in the dining car."

With these words he rose and routinely tugged the sleeves of his uniform. Johann also stood up and silently followed the lieutenant-colonel into the dining room. Many things went through his mind: he was sitting here with a man who was at the same time proud of having killed foreign, enemy soldiers and had exposed himself to the greatest dangers because he had witnessed, perhaps even participated in, the murder of civilians. How could one, it went through Johann's mind, make such a difference between people? Shouldn't it make no difference whether someone wore a uniform or a suit? He would probably never understand soldierly thinking and this part of international law. But the commitment to the resistance, however it might have looked in more detail, made the military seem braver in Johann's eyes than he had perceived him so far. At the same time, he reflected that this path into the resistance had been through socialist channels; something that also made the joint trip to Moscow appear to him in a new light.

Bruscheck took a seat at the same table as the previous evening on the advice of the emphatically polite waiter, but then rejected the menu: "Reverend, today you don't need to live as spartanly as last night. After all, it is Easter time! I'll order for both of us so you can ease your guilty conscience by patronising me."

Turning to the waiter, he added, "We'll both have the large daily menu."

The waiter nodded attentively and began to enumerate: "After a frittata soup, today we serve stuffed veal breast with warm potato salad, followed by a piece of Linzer Torte. As a wine accompaniment, I recommend a rosé from the Kamptal."

The lieutenant-colonel nodded enthusiastically, while Johann became a little uneasy because of the impending opulence.

"Reverend, forget these constant pasta dishes of Italy. We should enjoy the taste of home while we still can. Russian cuisine will certainly demand some endurance from our stomachs and livers."

Johann now nodded tentatively, "Thank you for helping me choose the menu. Instead of wine, however, I will take water."

Dutifully, the waiter nodded, which encouraged Bruscheck to joke, "I hope the water isn't from the Kamp, too!"

When the train finally arrived in Vienna, a captain and two non-commissioned officers were already waiting on the platform to pick up Lieutenant Colonel Bruscheck. The captain saluted, "Lieutenant Colonel, Captain Altmann reporting as escort officer. Welcome to Vienna!"

Bruscheck nodded complacently, "Thank you, Captain. You will first take me to the Stiftskaserne and then Reverend Erath to the seminary." At a wave from the captain, the two non-commissioned officers, who had only greeted Staff Sergeant Winter with a barely perceptible nod, took over the luggage.

"Herr Oberstleutnant, we have come with two cars so that we can take your guest to his accommodation at the same time. We will then have time on the way for me to give you some initial explanations of the new situation."

The following made Johann rethink his opinion of Bruscheck, who had become more and more sympathetic to him in certain respects in the course of the journey. His military travelling companion drove at the officer picking him up with an unusual sharpness: "How dare you independently change my travel plans. Who do you think you are?"

Johann, who in a similar situation would probably have meekly looked for an excuse for his well-intentioned concession, was even more surprised by the captain's reaction. The latter only tightened his body for a moment and replied without any emotion: "Herr Oberstleutnant, you forget where you are here. Vienna cannot be compared to your nice home garrison of Pinkafeld. You will travel together with me to the Stiftskaserne, and during the journey I will give you the information I have been instructed to give you. That is how our joint commander has determined it. Reverend Erath will be taken to his quarters safe and sound, Staff Sergeant Winter will accompany him on the journey, after which he too will be taken to the Stiftskaserne and there, if you wish, will be at your disposal." Without giving the stunned lieutenant-colonel another glance, Altmann now turned to Johann: "Pardon me, Reverend, for speaking about you in your presence. I welcome you to Vienna, but you know the city well enough because of your studies. You will be picked up tomorrow at nine o'clock."

In the meantime, Bruscheck had composed himself enough to re-enter the conversation in an effort to relax: "I don't need Staff Sergeant Winter today, he is at your disposal for tonight. Captain, I am already eagerly awaiting the information." With these words he extended his hand to Johann and then turned. Quickly he and Captain Altmann left the platform, while Staff Sergeant Winter and Johann slowly made their way along the same path.

When the two officers were far enough away, Johann asked, "I don't quite know my way around. The officer who greeted us here is ranked below Lieutenant Colonel Bruscheck, isn't he? Why then can he give him orders?"

Winter answered as they began to descend the large stairs towards the station hall: "The classification of officers according to rank is one thing, to be distinguished from this are the functions they perform. So it can happen that a soldier with a lower rank gives orders to a soldier with a higher rank if it suits his function. This is something you try to avoid as much as possible, but especially when dealing with the superior authorities in the federal capital, there are often very sobering encounters here. I am sorry that you have now witnessed this unpleasant scene."

In the meantime, they had reached the station concourse, which was almost too lavish for Johann's taste, and which immediately introduced every arriving traveller to the great history of Austria. Interesting, he thought, that the Kingdom of Italy had its main station in Rome built in the most modern style, while the progressive federal state of Austria welcomed its guests with the historicist flair of the nineteenth century. "For me, these behaviours are just interesting; I don't relate to this world and I learn something new every day. That's why I didn't find it at all bad to witness this relatively subtle argument," Johann said as the two now stepped through the portal of the arrivals area under the arcades. Staff Sergeant Winter pointed to the front end of the arcades: "There in front is our car. The two officers are probably already on their way." Johann directed his gaze forward, but then rather followed Winter's steps because he could not make out any particular army vehicle.

When the dark blue car was started by one of the two non-commissioned officers who had been waiting for them on the platform, Johann turned to Winter, who had taken a seat in the front: "Do you have any plans? What are you going to do in Vienna tonight?"

The driver of the car smirked knowingly and gave Staff Sergeant Winter a gentle nudge with his elbow. The latter shook his head in annoyance to ward off his comrade's clumsy suggestion that he would use the evening to visit a brothel: "I have no concrete plans."

Thunderous applause was still surging through the magnificent auditorium of the Burgoper ten minutes after the performance when Johann and Winter finally left their standing places and went downstairs via the stairwell. Johann had beads of sweat on his forehead and was breathing shallowly and quickly, "What do you say? Great, isn't it?" Staff Sergeant Winter, who had only accepted the invitation to go to the opera with Johann out of politeness and a tiny bit of curiosity about the interior of the imposing building, hardly recognised the usually self-possessed priest: "Well, I only understood a little of it, there were a bunch of spears and shields, a sword and quite a lot of singing."

Johann raised his shoulders in disbelief, "No one has ever summed up the Valkyrie like that! Weren't you moved, then, when Siegmund and Sieglinde, trusting in their undying love, dared the hopeless escape from Hunding's house? Or when Wotan left his daughter deified and asleep on the Brünhilden rock?"

By now they had reached the pavement in front of the opera house and turned their steps along the Ringstrasse towards Johann's lodgings. Winter hesitated with his answer: "Well, perhaps you can explain the plot to me during the next train journey; there will be time enough then," he hesitated for a moment, as if considering whether it was inappropriate to ask the question, "But what interests me most is this: How can you be interested in such pagan tales? Especially where foreign goddesses and gods appear?"

The speed with which Johann answered testified to his routine in answering the question that so many had already asked him: "I don't understand opera as idolatry of the figures portrayed. And certainly Richard Wagner did not seriously believe in the real existence of these divine beings when composing. Here they stand much more for outmoded powers that stand in the way of the change to a new society, which they themselves partly even long for." Winter tried to nod understandingly, but since he had already barely understood anything of the texts, a symbolic interpretation was even more difficult for him.

At the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Winter said goodbye to Johann and then turned off in the direction of the Stiftskaserne. Johann, still with the powerful sounds of the opera in his head, walked to his lodgings through nocturnally silent Vienna. He was fascinated by the unbridled power of the emotions as the singers acted them out on stage full of passion, but also with painstakingly rehearsed technique. This wholehearted absorption in what was recognised as the right thing to do both appealed to and frightened him, who always tried to keep his thoughts and above all his feelings under the strictest control. The opera, which he had also visited frequently during his studies, was exactly that level of channelled intoxication that he just about trusted himself to achieve. Had it been a simple coincidence that this particular piece was being played today?

Could I, like the Valkyrie, act against a direct order from my superior to achieve the goal that I believe is also in his proper sense?

Johann shooed away the inappropriate thought in view of the impending journey to a communist country of which he knew little more than that priests were imprisoned in labour camps there and that the churches were deprived of all their resources. Of course, as an Austrian, he owed a great debt of gratitude to the Soviet Union, since it was primarily they who had pushed for the restoration of the independent state. And without its support, it would never have been possible for the new federal states to join the Austrian federal state under the supervision of the United Nations. But this approach was a clear political calculation: A broad neutral barrier across Europe was to prevent Italy and the German states from joining forces again.