It was a spring day in 1944 when Joe and Raymond raced each other to town moments after the closing school bell rang. The sun felt warm on their skin, but as they raced through the school’s front gate, chilly gusts reminded them that shards of winter were still in the air. It was still not warm enough to go outdoors without their winter coats; that time of year when you need to carry one, just in case.

But the weather wasn’t top of mind for the two friends today. The boys were on a special mission that afternoon: They wanted to be the first to see what was causing the biggest buzz of excitement they could recall in their quiet town.

Apparently, the FBI had arrested the owner of the Always Inn & Tavern in town. Mr. Leopold Von Sliedricht was charged with being a Nazi spy. Von Sliedricht was a White Russian who employed Jewish workers at his establishment, so no one in town ever suspected a traitor in their midst.

The FBI had been tracking Von Sliedricht’s activities and correspondence for months; acting on a series of tips they had received from Von Sliedricht’s disgruntled wife.

The boys raced down Lincoln Street, coats open to the wind, hair flying wildly, heaving breath casting frosty explosions as they dodged cars and leapt over potholes, too excited even to speak.

Occasionally, they glanced at each other in silent disbelief that World War II had encroached on their sleepy New England town.

Turning on Main Street, Joe and Raymond skidded to a halt at a makeshift roadblock that kept cars and pedestrians from the scene. Town police stood at guard behind wooden barriers that had been brought there from townsfolk workshops and barns.

Behind the police line, 11 men in dark suits and hats carrying Tommy guns were directing Army personnel with mine detectors, poking at the bushes around the establishment, and raising cellar doors at the back of the tavern. Meanwhile, a steady stream of National Guardsmen went in and out of the inn’s front entrance, carrying crates to two waiting Army trucks, where they were stacked row upon row. Six Army soldiers with rifles kept a watchful eye over the loading operation.