On the beach at Castelldefels, near Barcelona, in 1999, we made friends with an Italian lady - patrician face, some 40 years, spoke Italian, Spanish, English and German. I told her I was an ex-United Press correspondent and was now writing books - she told me she had an incredible story of her English aunt. Her aunt had been a spy inside Nazi Germany, who talked with Hitler himself. In the attic of a family house in Wiltshire, they found diaries; Laura had brought them to Castelldefels to read. Finally, Laura photocopied them for me. "You can put each entry as full sentences, and see what you think." I asked for names. No names. "I'll give you a post-restante number in Torino, with a nom-de-plume. My husband is German, and we do a huge amount of business in Germany. If the Germans ever found out... you keep the copyright, and put your name on it." She warned London to protect the Ardennes. They didn't listen. So-Dunkirk.