Dear Diary,

After what seemed like roughly four months but was actually only a few seconds, Fingers stated the blatantly obvious.

“You’re right, Captain Maitland, this isn’t the Pioneer”.

“We must emit ourselves back down before these space Nazis find us” I announced.

“If I can find the controls I might be able to do that” said Fingers.

“Allow me to show you the way” said a rich Bavarian accent of the kind found in the old Earth province of Bavaria, now of course part of Central City Seven in the country of Mainland Europe.

“Thank you” said Fingers, his politeness overcoming his surprise.

“These are the controls of the Mat-Trans machine” explained the newcomer. “You press this button to transfer downwards and this button to transfer back upwards.”

It all seemed simple enough but I had noted a flaw in his kind and considerate explanation.

“How do you press the button when you are on another planet?” I asked.

“That is very simple” purred this civilised and good natured gentleman, “YOU GET A WORTHLESS SLAVE TO DO IT FOR YOU”.

“Right” I mumbled, looking down at my shoes. “That sounds fine.”

“And now, since you already know too much, I think I should arrange some accommodation for you. IN THE SLAVE QUARTERS.”

“You do like your slaves” I mumbled defiantly.

“Not at all” he purred, “I HATE THEM BECAUSE THEY ARE INFERIOR. Besides, not one of them can make a decent omelette.”

We were grabbed by the Nazis, dragged off the bridge and thrown into a dingy cell for the umpteenth time.

“Captain Maitland” said Fingers after a suitably contemplative pause.

“Yes, Fingers?” I replied.

“What is a Nazi?” he asked.

“They were originally a group of people from what used to be called Germany. They formed an army and a great war was fought between them and everyone else in the world. Eventually, everyone else in the world won and the Nazis were disbanded. In the late twenty first century there was an attempt to reimagine the brand as a bottled energy drink and range of athletic wear but it came to nothing.”

“So why are there Nazis with space ships and slaves and brutal methods of imprisonment?” he asked.

“I think it is all tied in with the Sense Shire and this being a parallel universe pocket of space and time.”

“You mean these Nazis are from a different version of your planet Earth?”

“Exactly as Newton predicted” I said triumphantly. “Who is doubting me and my extensive reading now?”

“How are we going to get away from here?”

“Don’t panic, Fingers, I have it all in hand.”

Dear Diary,

The man John has let me down and has thus far not successfully rescued me.

Dear Diary,

I am going to make an adverse entry on the man John’s annual performance appraisal pro forma under the heading “Initiative, The Use of”.

Dear Diary,

(I am writing this to add verisimilitude to my forthcoming rescue plan.)

I have a terrible stomach ache. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stand this excruciating pain before I have to cry out for help from the guard outside our door.

Dear Diary,

Ignore the last entry – my stomach is fine, the guard outside the door is fine and Fingers is fine except for an adverse entry on his annual performance appraisal pro forma under the heading “Miscellaneous springing into action when signalled”. I knew I should’ve been the one hiding behind the door with a heavy object in my hand.

Dear Diary,

Although not a Nazi myself (and as far as I know I’ve never actually met a member of the Nazi community – the closest I’ve come is when the Nazi Pride march blocked off the high street and I had to wait twenty minutes just to cross the road. I averted my gaze when the floats went past but to this day I strongly suspect it was a gaudily dressed Nazi who pinched my bottom and stole my bowler hat) I feel sure I could convince the captain that I was myself a Nazi. I practiced clicking my heels together, I role-played speaking to Fingers in a harsh voice and I successfully annexed the bunk beds at the second attempt. When I felt ready I knocked on the cell door and asked to speak to the officer who had detained us.

“I believe that you’ve made a terrible mistake” I told the guard. “You have locked up a fellow Nazi.”

The guard looked at me suspiciously. I glared at him with as much menace as I could muster.

“Ok” he said after a while. “I’ll take you to the bridge. But if you’re wasting my time…”

He let the threat hang. I studied him as we walked – was he the kind of man who would say “I’ll be so cross” and go off in a huff? Or was he more the “I’ll tie you to the wall and make you scream” kind of person? I’ve seen documentaries about Nazis and they do get up to some disgusting things (and those were the things they could allude to before my bedtime. Heaven knows what was discussed after I’d washed my cocoa mug, brushed my teeth and read a chapter of “Captain Jesus in the Twenty Ninth Century”).

The captain was about his bridge in the correct manner. He turned to greet me with smile and an encouraging wave of his whip.

“Ah – you’re back – splendid” he said.

“I think there has been a dreadful misunderstanding” I began. “I too am a Nazi officer” I explained.

“Ah so – you are a fellow Nazi officer” he repeated. “That is very interesting. Normally I would dismiss such obvious dribble but you find me in a good mood – one of the WORTHLESS SLAVES found an omelette in the freezer and I have just enjoyed it. It tasted a little, shall we say, experienced but it was better than nothing.”

“I’m very pleased for you” I said. I added what I hoped was a ‘we-are-all-officers-together’ laugh but it backfired rather and broke the cordial mood entirely.

“You think omelettes are funny?” he demanded.

“No no – I’m very partial to them…”

“So you are a fellow Nazi officer are you?” he continued, burping slightly and cursing his predecessor’s decision to go off on a five year mission without bringing a single hen.

“I most certainly am.”

“Then you can prove it of course?”

“Of course” I said cautiously.

“Then you will be welcome on board the SS Heinrich if you do one simple thing in keeping with your Nazi training.”

“Anything” I said cautiously.

“We found these two when we did a reversal trace on your Mat-Trans approach signal.” He waved to a fellow Nazi who activated a control and a wall panel juddered to one side. There stood the man John and Carol Richmond. “They look worthless to me – do what any Nazi officer would do - order them to be executed.”