One wrong move and I would be shot. Paralyzed by fear, I wondered who or what it was that attacked me. The thing pressed to my temple was, as far as I could tell, a Schmeisser : the first mass-produced submachine gun. I could see—in the outer periphery of my vision—a finger on the trigger, a sharp nail, and in the background, a fuzzy impression of a mustache, centered above someone’s lip, Hitler…