guidance as to what to do. After waiting an hour-and-a-half I secured an
audience. I briefly explained my position.

"Get home at once. The train leaves 1.13 mid-day."

"But I've got luggage worth £400 at the station!"

"Get home!"

"But--"

"Leave your luggage where it is!"

"Do you think--?"

"You take the 1.13 train. Good morning."

Further enquiries convinced me that the 1.13 was very likely to be the
last train which would leave Berlin for Britain, so I scurried off to
the station to recover my luggage. Many of the photographic instruments
were exceedingly valuable because they had been made specially. I was
bandied from one official to another. At last I alighted upon one who
knew something. He led me to a huge building and flung open the door. It
was stacked from floor to roof with baggage, which had been packed in
without any semblance of order. I surveyed the pile ruefully. I asked
him if he could trace my luggage but he shook his head. I held out a
tempting pourboire. It was of no avail. If I wanted the luggage I could
look for it myself. Reflecting that some six weeks at least would be
required to complete the search I concluded that I should have to leave
it behind willy-nilly. So somewhat depressed I prepared to leave by the