Men At War - The Soldier Spies - Men at War - The Soldier Spies Part 15
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Men at War - The Soldier Spies Part 15

"I'm sure you were right, Herr Baron, "von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

Von Heurten-Mitnitz was more than a little bored with this recitation of von Fulmar's. But the Bad Ems postcard had mentioned the Baron, and there was certainly a reason for that. He could only hope he'd be able to pull that from what von Fulmar was telling him.

"I was wrong, Herr von Heurten-Mitnitz," the Baron said. "Quite wrong.

I should have brought the boy to Germany, no matter the difficulty, and raised him and seen to his education. If I had done that, we would not be standing here having this embarrassing conversation."

"I regret that you find it embarrassing, Herr Baron," von Heurten-Mitnitz said. ii That is not my intention."

"Obviously, he has been up to something shameful, or you would not be here," the Baron said.

"You were explaining to me how he came to Switzerland," von Heurtenmitnitz said.

"The school in iowa was only a primary school," the Baron said.

"But my son became friendly with a classmate, the son of the headmaster, in fact. When it was learned that this classmate was to attend a school for gymnasium aged boys in Massachusetts, we decided my son should go with him."

"Do you happen to recall the headmaster's name?" von Heurten-Mitnitz asked, fishing.

"As a matter of fact, I do. He took it upon himself to send copies of the boy's grades to me. And an invitation to his graduation.

His name was Canidy. The Reverend Dr. Canidy."

"I see," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

It wasn't much, and he had no idea what it meant, but the OSS agent who had dealt with Fulmar in Morocco was named Canidy.

"Is that important?" the Baron asked, sensing that the name had somehow clicked in von Heurten-Mitnitz's mind.

"No. But odd details sometimes take on importance."

"As I was saying, my son was next sent to a school, St. Mark's, in Massachusetts. He was there't vo years. I was again approached by a representative of Continental Studios, this time directly. A very young and very brash young Jew. He had gone to Harvard, I must tell you."

"Then he must have been a very bright, as well as a very brash, young Jew, Herr Baron," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

"He explained to me that in order to preserve my ex-wife's public reputation, it had been decided to send the boy out of the United States."

"To you?" "No. What he said was that Max Liebermann, who owned Continental Studios, wanted the best possible education for the boy. It turned out, by the way, that the young Jew lawyer was Liebermann's nephew."

"Was his name Liebermann?"

"No, Fine," the Baron said. "Stanley S. Fine." "Go on," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

"It was put to me that Die Schule am Rosenberg, in Switzerland.

" He looked at von Heurten-Mitnitz, who nodded to show he knew about "Rosey."

"... was the sort of place where Eric belonged," Fulmar went on.

"Fine solicited my influence in getting him admitted."

"And did you use your influence to do so, Herr Baron?"

"Yes, I did. After consulting with some friends of mine in the Party, and with, of course, the Baroness."

"Officially or unofficially?"

"At first unofficially, and then officially. It was necessary to settle the question of whether or not the boy was Aryan."

"And?"

"My former wife is descended on both sides from good, solid, Silesian peasant stock. My son is unquestionably Aryan."

"And how does that affect his standing in the Almanac de Gotha?" The Almanac was a quasi-o ficial publication listing royal and noble bloodlines.

The Baron gave him an icy look.

"It has not yet come up," he said. "If it does, and if he were a German, he would be in his own right Baron von Kolbe. And, of course, as my eldest male child, he is heir to my title."

"Under German law, he is German," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

"As I said, Herr von Heurten-Mitnitz, so far as I know the matter has not come up."

"Yes, "von Heurten-Mitnitz said. "So you got him into Rosey?"

"Not only that, but I paid for it. I couldn't have it said that a Jew was paying for my son's education, could I? I paid for it, and I was happy to do so."

"Did you intend to finally bring the boy to Germany?" von Heurtenmitnitz asked.

"That's precisely what I had in mind," the Baron said. Von Heurtenmitnitz looked at him, waiting for amplification.

"On his graduation from Rosey," the Baron went on, "I arranged for him to matriculate at Philips University in Marburg an der Lahn. As I had, and my father had. At some time during his college years, when it appeared to me that he was sufficiently mature to understand the circumstances, I planned to discuss his future with him. I had come to believe the best thing for him would be to enter military service, either with my regiment or perhaps even the Waffen-SS."

"And your plans for him, "von Heurten-Mitnitz said dryly, somehow went awry?"

"Since I was naturally unable to meet him when he came to the university," the Baron said, "I asked the manager of our plant in Marburg--we make special' aircraft engines there--to ease his path.

The manager is also an alter Marburger. He went to the president of our Bruderschaft (fraternity) and explained the situation.

Accommodation was arranged for him in the dormitory, that sort of thing, and he agreed to look out for him."

"I see," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

"My son wanted nothing whatever to do with my Bruderschaft," the Baron said.

"Excuse me?"

"My son appeared in Marburg in the company of a young Moroccan named Sidi el Ferruch, who was the son of the Pasha of Marrakech.

They had been roommates at Rosey. They arrived in a Delahaye touring car bearing diplomatic license plates. The car was driven by el Ferruch's personal bodyguard. The bodyguard and el Ferruch's manservant, as well as el Ferruch himself, were traveling on diplomatic passports. They were also armed."

"Astonishing," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

"They established themselves in three connecting suites in the Kurhotel," the Baron said. "And when my man finally found them there and explained to my son the arrangements we had made for him, my son announced that he was perfectly comfortable where he was. He had no intention of moving into a student dormitory or, for that matteg joining a Bruderschaft."

"He was not quite what your man expected, eh?" von Heurten-Mitnitz chuckled.

"When I heard what had happened," the Baron went on, ignoring the remark, "I simply made time to go to Marburg to talk to my son. I tried to explain that, while someone like el Ferruch might exempt himself from normal undergraduate customs and regulations, it behooved him to remember that he was my son, a von Fulmar, and was expected to behave as such."

"I gather that he was not receptive?" von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

"He told me bluntly that he was an American and didn't much care how Germans were expected to behave. As for behaving like a dutiful son, he told me it was ludicrous of me to suddenly appear out of nowhere and start acting like a father to him." Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz shook his head sympathe ically.

"I then told him I had no intention of maintaining him in a resort hotel and that he could either move into the student dormitory and do what he was told or leave the university. He actually laughed. It was all I could do not to slap his face."

"He laughed at you?" The Baron nodded.

"On his eighteenth birthday he had entered into a contractual arrangement with Continental Studios. So long as he remained outside of the United States and maintained an absolute silence regarding his relationship with Monica Sinclair, there would be deposited monthly to his account with Thos. Cook & Sons the sum of five hundred dollars, which would be more than enough for his personal expenses."

"How difficult for you," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

"He went on to refuse any help from me in any way. He wanted no part of me, or of his German heritage. At that point, Herr von Heurten-Mitnitz, I am ashamed to tell you, I lost my temper."

"You struck him?"

"No. But I called him an arrogant, ungrateful bastard' and told him that I washed my hands of him, once and for all."

"And his response?"

"He told me to go fuck myself, is what he said."

"I'm surprised you didn't strike him," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

"During the entire conversation, el Ferruch's bodyguard stood behind my son's chair. He was an enormous Negro with a pistol in his belt.

Frankly, I was afraid. Not so much physically, you understand, Herr von Heurtenmitnitz, but because of the political and diplomatic ramifications of a confrontation with him. Because of his diplomatic status." Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz managed to restrain a smile. His mind's eye saw the Baron nervously eyeing N'Jibba, el Ferruch's enormous, shining black Senegalese bodyguard. What had kept the Baron from doing something foolish was not his awareness of political and diplomatic ramifications, but a menacing robed character two meters tall and weighing 150 kilos.

"I gather the discussion concluded soon?" von Heurten-Mitnitz asked.

"And that was the end of it?"

"It wasn't the end of it, but yes, I left," the Baron said. "As soon as I could, I discussed the situation with my legal counsel. He confirmed my belief that I had the legal right under German law to bring my son to heel. But he also pointed out that the matter wasn't quite that simple. He therefore made a few discreet inquiries of highly placed persons within the Foreign Ministry and the Party."

"And?"

"The matter came to the attention of the Foreign Minister himself, who thought it would be ill-advised at the present time' to either exercise my parental rights or to seek to have my son declared a German. Under American law, since he was born there, he is an American. The Americans were liable to become highly indignant if a German court were to declare otherwise."

"And I would think," von Heurten-Mitnitz added, "that others had in mind the possible usefulness of el Ferruch should war come and we find ourselves in possession of French Morocco."

"I thought it might be something like that," the Baron said.

"I was the German representative to the Franco-German Armistice Commission for Morocco," von Heurten-Mitnitz said. "In that capacity, I came to know your son, Herr Baron."

"Did you?" the Baron asked, surprised.

"Before we get into that, let me ask, how often did you see your son after your first encounter? Or should I say confrontation'?"

"I never saw him again," the Baron said firmly.

"And you had no idea that the last time he left Germany, he had no intention of returning? There was no telephone, not even a postcard?"

"I never had any contact with him after that meeting."

"But you did pay his tuition at Marburg?"

"It was suggested to me that I do so," the Baron said.

"And gave him an allowance of--How much was it?"

"Five thousand Reichsmarks monthly," the Baron said. "But that, too, Herr von Heurten-Mitnitz, was at the recommendation of highly placed persons."

"So I understand," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

He fixed the Baron with a stern look.

"Herr Baron, it goes without saying that what I will now tell you is a state secret. You are to tell no one."

"I understand," the Baron said.

"There is reason to believe that your son is now connected with American military intelligence." The Baron's face went white. "I can't tell you how ashamed that makes me." Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz let him sweat a moment.

"The information we have is considered highly reliable," he said.

"Certainly, no one thinks--" the Baron began, and stopped.

"Certainty not," von Heurten-Mitnitz said. "There is no suspicion that in any way reflects on your own loyalty."

"Then... what?"

"It is considered possible that he will attempt to contact you, most probably through third parties, but perhaps in person, "von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

"FEG is involved with much that is of interest to the Americans."

"I must strenuously protest even the suggestion--"

"Herr Baron, there is no question whatever in my mind of your loyalty.

But he is your flesh and blood!" he is connected with American military intelligence," the Baron said, "he is an enemy of the German state. That transcends anything else."