“Or the Swiss navy.”
“The Swiss navy’s no joke for us. That last motor boat we heard was probably the Swiss navy.”
“If we’re in Switzerland let’s have a big breakfast. They have wonderful rolls and butter and jam in Switzerland.”
It was clear daylight now and a fine rain was falling. The wind was still blowing outside up the lake and we could see the tops of the white-caps going away from us and up the lake. I was sure we were in Switzerland now. There were many houses back in the trees from the shore and up the shore a way was a village with stone houses, some villas on the hills and a church. I had been looking at the road that skirted the shore for guards but did not see any. The road came quite close to the lake now and I saw a soldier coming out of a café on the road. He wore a gray-green uniform and a helmet like the Germans. He had a healthy-looking face and a little toothbrush mustache. He looked at us.
“Wave to him,” I said to Catherine. She waved and the soldier smiled embarrassedly and gave a wave of his hand. I eased up rowing. We were passing the waterfront of the village.
“We must be well inside the border,” I said.
“We want to be sure, darling. We don’t want them to turn us back at the frontier.”
“The frontier is a long way back. I think this is the customs town. I’m pretty sure it’s Brissago.”
“Won’t there be Italians there? There are always both sides at a customs town.”
“Not in war-time. I don’t think they let the Italians cross the frontier.”
It was a nice-looking little town. There were many
