Men At War - The Soldier Spies - Men at War - The Soldier Spies Part 39
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Men at War - The Soldier Spies Part 39

Or do you just want me out of the way so my report on the French won't reach the Fuhrer?" Kaltenbrunner snorted. Joachim von Ribbentrop looked at him to see whether he was amused or angry. When he saw him smiling, Ribbentrop laughed.

"The nature of the trouble is spelled Horthy," Kaltenbrunner said, referring to the regent of Hungary.

Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz raised his eyebrows.

"I would spell it Hungarian," von Ribbentrop said, arather than single the admiral out. The Hungarians are having second thoughts about their alliance with us."

"If the question is out of line, please forgive me," von Heurten-Mitnitz said. "But is there anything concrete?"

"Yes, there is," Kaltenbrunner said. He stopped and looked at von Ribbentrop. "Is there any reason I shouldn't discuss Voronezhl?

Joachim von Ribbentrop shook his head.

"For hundreds of years, von Heurten-Mitnitz, the Hungarians have been lln January 1943, a 200, 00Small Hungarian force had been routed by the Russians at Voronezh. There had been relatively few casualties, and a successful withdrawal had been made, but the Hungarians had lost essentially all of the tanks, artillery, and other weapons. splendid fighters. Under the Austro-Hungarian empire, of course.

One would presume that equipped with the very latest German equipment, they would be able to at least hold their own against the Russians." He then delivered, dispassionately, a rather detailed report of Hungarian reluctance to engage the Russians at Voronezh, down to the numbers of tanks and cannon lost to the enemy.

"And I am unable to believe," Kaltenbrunner concluded, "and Ribbentrop agrees with me, that their senior officers would have acted as they did, except on orders from Horthy. Or someone very close to Horthy.

With his blessing, so to speak." Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz said what was expected of him, "Then the officers should be shot, and the men forced back into the line."

"The Fuhrer believes that would be unwise," von Ribbentrop said.

"He believes that when the Hungarians come to understand that the alternative to an alliance with Germany is not neutrality and peace but enslavement by the Bolsheviks, they will fight in keeping with their warriors' tradition."

"Perhaps he's right," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

"And perhaps he isn't," Kaltenbrunner said. Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz was surprised at Kaltenbrunner's bluntness. Only a few men would dare to suggest that Adolf Hitler erred. "That's where you would come in, von Heurten-Mitnitz "

"I don't quite understand," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

"Reichsmarschall Goring, Dr. Goebbels, and some others are going to Budapest to reason with Admiral Horthy, "von Ribbentrop said. "And there is no doubt that they will return with a renewed pledge of allegiance from Horthy. And a new ambassador will be appointed.

Inasmuch as Goring and Goebbels will appoint him--and not from the ranks of professionals, Helmut, since we bumblers have obviously failed to do what we were supposed to do--I rather doubt that he will report that the Hungarians have resumed trying to save their skins the minute Goring and Goebbels turn their backs."

"Forgive me if I seem to be jumping ahead, but if I were there, I wouldn't be believed, either."

"Not by those two, of course not," von Ribbentrop said. "No more than you were believed when you raised the alarm about an American invasion of North Africa."

"But the Fuhrer would," Kaltenbrunner said. "Once we remind him that you are the man that no one listened to about North Africa."

"I see, "von Heurten-Mitnitz said. He understood their reasoning, and understood, too, that doing what they asked was a good way to get himself shot.

"What I'm going to do, Helmut," von Ribbentrop said, "is make you first secretary of the Embassy. You have the rank for the job, and the experience.

There will be no objection from any quarter. And then you do exactly what you did in Morocco. Except that you send your thoughts directly to me.

This time, they will not be ignored. I will share them with the general, and when the time is ripe, we will take them to the Fuhrer."

"It would make my position vis-a-vis the ambassador difficult," von Heurten-Mitnitz protested.

"Germany's position, von Heurten-Mitnitz, is difficult," Kaltenbrunner said.

"Your man in Morocco, General," von Heurten-Mitnitz said, "Standartenfuhrer Muller, was very valuable to me there. It would be helpful--" "He's yours," Kaltenbrunner said.

"Then I can only say I am flattered and humbled by the responsibility you are giving me." "People like ourselves," von Ribbentrop said slowly, as if to emphasize the inarguable truth of his words, "for centuries have been called upon to assume greater responsibility for Germany." And then von Ribbentrop stepped on von Heurten-Mitnitz's toe.

Startled, he looked at him.

"Sorry, my dear fellow," von Ribbentrop said. "I was reaching for the damned call button. I didn't want anyone in the room during that part of the conversation." And immediately the two handsome young SS troopers appeared, this time bearing medallions of veal in a lemon butter sauce, and potatoes Anna, and haricots verts.

When he returned to his office, he told Fraulein Schermann that he did not wish to be disturbed by anyone less important than the Reichsminister himself. Now he really needed time to think, to come out of the surreal dream.

It wasn't only his new assignment, or the elegant meal, or the realization that as an American agent he had just been assured of the trust of the Reichsminister for Foreign Affairs and the head of the SS, He had attended a reception at the Argentine Embassy the night before.

When he had retrieved his hat and coat from the checkroom and put his hand in the pocket, there was a postcard there that hadn't been there before he went into the embassy.

He had to wait until he reached home to have a good look at it.

It was a black-and-white drawing of a church in Budapest, specifically of St. Ann's Church on the Vizivaros, the flatland between the river and Castle Hill in Buda.

The address was smudged and illegible, but the message was clear, even under the purple censor's stamp, "Hope to see you and E and G. Here very soon. Will call. Fondly, Eric." It had taken a moment before he was sure what it meant. But it was really very clear. He was expected to somehow get Friedrich Dyer and his daughter Gisella from Marburg to St. Ann's Church in Budapest.

Someone would call and tell him when.

Fulmar himself? Or was "Eric" just identification?

And why did the Americans want Dyer? What did he know that justified all this effort and risk? And where would he--or Muller--find travel documents for these people?

Now, what had seemed almost impossible seemed to be impossibly easy.

Both he and Muller could simply load the Dyers into Muller's car.

No one was going to stop a car carrying an SS-SD Standartenfuhrer and the newly appointed First Secretary of the German Embassy.

He seriously considered that he was indeed dreaming, and bit his knuckle to see if he could wake himself up.

His interoffice telephone buzzed.

"Forgive me, Herr Minister," Fraulein Schermann said, "but Herr Standartenfuhrer Muller is here and insists on seeing you."

"Ask the Standartenfuhrer to please come in, Fraulein Schermann," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

As Muller came through the door, the air raid sirens began to wail.

FOUR] IIIATS Departing Pssonger Tern inzl Croydon Field, London Zl January 1943 When Captain the Duchess Stanfield tried to follow Captain James M.

B.

Whittaker past the clerk who was checking orders and travel authority, an Air Corps military police sergeant stepped in front of her.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said, "passengers only beyond the checkpoint." Captain the Duchess Stanfield, her face stricken, stared at the back of Captain Whittaker as he turned a corner and disappeared from sight, then glanced over her shoulder at Dick Canidy, who stood with Ann Chambers and Agnes Draper just outside the building. They had said their good-byes to Whittaker in the car so that Jim and the Duchess could have a couple of minutes alone inside the building.

Canidy walked quickly to her. When he saw Whittaker disappear from sight, his eyes teared and a painful tightness caught his throat.

"What's the trouble, Sergeant?" Canidy said, his voice unnaturally high pitched.

"Passengers only in the waiting room, sir," the MP said.

Canidy reached into the pocket of his tunic and came out with a small leather wallet. He showed it to the sergeant.

"It'll be all right for the captain to go into the waiting room," he said.

The MP sergeant had been shown samples of OSS credentials, but he had never actually seen the real thing. He was impressed, but not enough.

"I'm sorry, Major," he said, "but that won't pass you or the captain past here."

"Well, then, goddamnit, Sergeant, you just take your pistol out and shoot us in the back. We're going in there," Canidy said, taking the Duchess's arm and pushing past the sergeant.

The sergeant's face flushed with anger. He didn't draw his pistol, nor try to physically restrain either the major with the OSS credentials or the English woman captain. He trotted across the room to find the terminal officer to tell him what had happened.

The two of them walked quickly into the room where the departing passengers milled around while the passenger manifest was typed. That was the last step before the aircraft would be loaded, the final sorting of priorities to determine who would go and who would have to wait for the next flight.

When the terminal officer found them, the OSS major and the English woman captain were standing with an Air Corps captain and two RAF officers, one of them an air vice marshal, and a group commander.

The terminal officer laid a hand on the MP sergeant's arm. An air vice marshal was the British equivalent of a lieutenant general. It was better not to make waves when three stars were involved.

"Forgive me, Your Grace," the air vice marshal said, "but I flatter myself to think of the Duke as an old friend. Has there been word?"

"No," Captain the Duchess Stanfield said, "not a thing, I'm sorry to say."

"He'll turn up," the air vice marshal said. "You'll see.

Stout fellow, the Duke. Resourceful."

"Yes," Captain the Duchess Stanfield said, looking at Captain James M. B. Whittaker.

The subject of a husband missing in action was a bit awkward. The air vice marshal changed the subject.

"I gather you're not going with us, Major?" he said to Canidy.

"No," Canidy said, somewhat curtly.

"And how far are you going, Captain--Whittaker, was it?"

"All the way to Brisbane," Whittaker said.

"Well, we'll be with you as far as New Delhi," the air vice marshal said.

"That'll be nice, "Whittaker said, looking into the Duchess's eyes.

"Maybe we can play cards or something."

"Let me have your attention, please," the clerk at the manifest desk said into a public address system microphone. "We are about to load the aircraft.

The way the manifest is made up is by priority, not by rank, so pay attention, please. When I call your name, call out, pick up your hand luggage, go to the door, check the manifest to see that we've got the name, rank, and serial number right, and then go get on the aircraft."

"It would seem," the air vice marshal said, "that we are, in that charming American phrase, about to get the show on the road. "' "Whittaker, James M. B. , Captain, Army Air Corps," the public address speaker boomed.

"Yo!" Whittaker called out.

He looked at Canidy and then at Captain the Duchess Stanfield.

"God go with you, Captain Whittaker," Captain the Duchess Stanfield said, offe ring her hand.

"Thank you for seeing me off," Captain Whittaker said as he shook her hand.

"Don't be silly, Captain," the Duchess Stanfield said. "And let us hear from you."

"Of course," Whittaker said, and finally let her hand go. Captain the Duchess Stanfield came to almost a position of attention, her face rigid.

"Well, Dick--" Whittaker said. His voice sounded very strained.

Canidy said, "Try not to fly into a rock-filled cloud," and then he put his arms around Whittaker and hugged him, and whispered, "If anyone even looks cockeyed at her, I'll slice his balls of " Whittaker broke the embrace.

"You do that, Major, sir," he said. And then he picked up his bags and proceeded to board the aircraft.

Canidy took Captain the Duchess Stanfield's arm, and they marched in almost a military manner out of the passenger terminal.

Sergeant Agnes Draper, WRAC, when she saw them coming, opened the rear door of the Packard.

"I'll drive, Agnes," Canidy said, motioning with his head for her to move to the back with the Duchess. He got behind the wheel and threw the lever that raised the glass divider. Ann Chambers slipped in beside him.

"Rough?" she asked.

"There was an old buddy of the Duke's in there," Canidy said.

"What they got to do was shake hands."

"Oh, God!

"Ann said.

"Stiff upper lip and all that crap," Canidy said.

"Why don't we take her someplace? Would that help?"

"I have other plans," Canidy said.