LATE in the afternoon Stefan took me to the Orient Palace, Damascus's leading hotel, to meet Captain Mahmous Zanovitch. "Mahmoud's real name is Keil," he confided. "Many of our boys use Arab names."...

...After Stefan's glowing introduction, Keil became friendly. He told me had served under Nazi General Hans Guderian, and fought in Smolensk and Stalingrad. Later he had joined quisling Pavelich. Keil was a career militarist, an expert trainer and technician, and was engaged in that capacity in the Syrian army.

"What is you impression of the Arab as a fighter?" I asked.

Keil grimaced. "I have no respect for the Arab soldier. But I don't want to talk about the Arabs. I want to talk about you Americans. You are pushing Europe into the arms of Cummunism. Germany was the only nation which could have stopped Communism, but Roosevelt and Churchill destroyed it..."

...I believe the only reason Keil saw me was to give me a piece of his mind. I was satisfied, for I had met, face to face, a Nazi trainer of the Syrian army. It did not surprise me, after I had returned to the United States, to hear Walter Winchell announce that the reorganization of some units of the Syrian army had been entrusted to Colonel Hans von Zempelhof.

A day later my investment in Stefan paid off richly again. "Tonight I'm having supper with Said Abdullah Harb," he said. "His real name" -- he laughed -- "is Herbert von Furst!"

When we arrived at the tavern-restaurant, I found a handsome, blond, blue-eyed German sitting before a bottle of cognac. Behind his chair was a pair of crutches. Cognac glass in one hand, he stretched out the other in greeting:

"Join me for supper," he said loudly. "Solid food disagrees with me."

A Jewish bullet had caught von Furst, and his leg had been amputated.

"My bad luck was when the Jews didn't shoot me in the head. Believe me, I'm finished with these Arabs, I hate it here. I was a hero when I was fighting from Jaffa to Jerusalem for them, but now that I'm a crippled they tell me to --" He paused. "When they took me to the hospital for a blood transfusion I wouldn't let them put Arab blood in me...I have all Aryan blood in me now. Those Arabs fixed me another way. They stole my suitcase. I had gold and jewelry of all kinds which I had taken from Jews. That stole everything -- the thieves!"...

...when I marry [an Arab girl] I will have a new leg, a wife, money, a house, a job."

"What kind of job?"

"Training Syrians. I'll train them in everything -- from bomb-making to artillery-bombing. My job is waiting. I will get 560 liras a month."

"Stefan told me that the Grand Mufti had helped you escape." I said.

"Ahh, yes. I know the Mufti very well. He cried when he saw I had lost my leg...Maybe he will give me the ten thousand liras [about $3,500] he has promised me for my marriage. Just yesterday he gave me two thousand liras."

"I've been promised two hundred by the Mufti," Stefan said, turning to me. "I'm meeting him tomorrow morning."

"I should very much like to come with you," I said to Stefan as casually as I could.