Wanting to get to know Kurt better, I asked, “You mentioned that Berlin is your home. You’re an American citizen, right?”
“I was born here and lived a short distance from here until 1933. My father was a high-ranking Christian Democrat and anti-Nazi. He was arrested, tortured, and given an option—prison or exile. We sailed out of Hamburg for New York in August of 1933.”
“How old were you at the time?”
“Fifteen. Fortunately, my father’s import/export business had a large office in New York City. So, we settled into relative comfort. Eventually, we all became naturalized citizens. I finished graduate business studies at Yale in 1940.”
“Then the spy game?”
“I joined my father in his business. Foreign intelligence collection was a State Department responsibility during that period. I was recruited and started to make business trips to Nazi-occupied Western Europe. The game, as many call it, came naturally to me.”
“So, you’ve been in this business for twenty years.”
“I joined the Office of Strategic Services, parachuted into France in 1943, and operated with the resistance….”
Chapter 50
Wednesday, January 11, 1961
Scott joined us in his usual jovial mood. “What’s up, partner…Oh, Kurt, Mark…this must be important.”
“Have a seat. This’ll take a while.” Kurt then explained that my excursion had resulted in covert Stasi surveillance of my every move.
“So, Robert is still the focus of Stasi surveillance. Wonder why?” Mark asked with obvious concern.
“Their beer-bet scam, radio announcements, and all the rest were contrived,” Kurt said. “Since I was away, I couldn’t advise you of that fact. We must ensure that none of us is being followed when we go to the building.”
“What do you recommend?” I asked. “I thought we could all go out and back through the arrivals hall with the rest of the men.”
Kurt shook his head. “Scott, Mark, and I must never use the arrival halls route. We are all known entities. Second, Robert, you need to use it sparingly—once every two weeks at the most. We’ll get a KY-7 scrambler telephone and install it here and in the building. You and the senior NCOs can converse on it as often as is necessary.”
“The phone is a good idea, but I really need to be on site several hours each day,” I replied.
“I understand,” Kurt responded. “Let me think for a minute. Start going to the American Mission Building in the Zehlendorf district every workday. We want them to follow you there. In a private area of the basement, you’ll get into the trunk of one of our cars with German license plates and be transported to the building.”
“That isn’t what James Bond does—being transported in trunks—not very dashing or brave.”
“But it is very effective!” He replied with a broad smile.
Chapter 51
Friday, January 13, 1961
“Gentlemen, I’ve been able to convince the Director of the CIA here in Berlin that if we don’t take immediate action, our tunnel construction activities will be discovered by the Stasi within the next few weeks,” Kurt announced to an emergency meeting of the security committee he called two days later.
Before anyone could ask for details, he continued, “The Stasi have the following facts or at the least have been able to make these deductions. One. Captain Robert Kerr is here in Berlin on a special assignment and is not a weatherman. Two. Thirteen Seabees, nine of who speak German have been assigned to this project, so it almost certainly involves construction of some form. We can assume they have photographs of all of the Seabees and know these men will be here for a year or more. Three. Those Seabees were transported from the Hilton to Tempelhof and have not been seen since. Four. Robert and Scott met an oversized aircraft, which flew something important into Berlin. This cargo may or may not have been removed from Hanger 1 at Tempelhof during that foggy night; or perhaps some kind of intentional misdirection occurred at that time. Five. More importantly, several of us have been working to cover up whatever is planned.”
“How can we convince them that Robert is a weatherman!?” Mark asked.
“I’m sure that is now impossible. What we need to do is to get them to focus on a red herring—a massive misdirection. There is a small, US government owned and operated construction company here in Berlin, which is only staffed by German-speaking Americans. The reason they all speak German is that they rely upon German companies to provide supplies and to perform some of the work.”
“How can this possibly help?” I asked.
“All of the Bodenbau Unternehmenoden (Boden Construction Company) employees have Top Secret Extended Background Investigation security clearances. They build, remodel, and maintain all of the sensitive American facilities throughout Berlin. The Stasi know who they are and what they do. Robert’s tank, where we’re sitting now, is one of the facilities they designed and installed.
He paused for a moment. “They have a variety of equipment and operate out of a warehouse and construction yard south of us. It’s near the one we’re using for Robert’s project. We need to convince the Stasi, KGB, GRU, British M-6, French Deuxieme Bureau, and West German Intelligence Services that Robert is supervising the fabrication of a nuclear-hardened command and control bunker under Hanger 1 here at Tempelhof.”
We sat there slack-jawed in amazement at his bold proposal. After almost a minute of silence, Mark demanded, “How is that possible?!”
Laughing, Kurt said, “Herr Holburg revealed to Robert that the Stasi have the capability of taking long-range telephoto images of us here at Tempelhof. They must have an apartment in one of those buildings on the south side of the airport. We’ll use that knowledge to our advantage. The CIA in Berlin has a sizeable Cover and Deception Budget, plus right now the guys over at Boden are available because they are between major projects. Here is what we do, starting immediately…”
Chapter 52
Monday, January 16, 1961
SENIOR MASTER SERGEANT Neal Loring and the thirty-three members of his Army Corps of Engineers squad had arrived on January 11th, as scheduled. Their orientation was complete, and this would be their first scheduled work day. I was anxious to get them organized, but first I needed to support Kurt’s latest scam, which would be kicked off today.
Kurt briefed the thirteen of us, who would initiate what he called the ‘Bunker Subterfuge.’ “Gentlemen, we’ve determined the Stasi surveillance post is an apartment on the sixth floor of a building on the south end of the airport. We anticipate that, in addition to still or movie cameras with telephoto lenses and telescopes, the Stasi might have an individual who is capable of reading lips when English is spoken. So, when you’re on stage, say your lines and make gestures like everything is real.”
Soon a panel truck arrived outside of Hanger 1. On its side were the words, Bodenbau Unternehmenoden. The Chief, all eleven members of his crew, and I emerged from the small door in the center of the massive rolling doors on the front of Hanger 1 at Tempelhof. I was in uniform. Everyone else wore casual work clothes—coats, sweaters, windbreakers, sweatshirts, and dungarees.
After introductions were made, I took my position facing the Stasi apartment, pointed at the hanger, and declared, “Men, we have a year to finish two nuclear-hardened bunkers. One here and the other beneath Clay Headquarters. The latter will also serve as a shelter for the senior Berlin Mission people, whose offices are located in adjacent buildings.” Fifteen minutes of verbal exchanges between those of us assembled in front of the hanger followed.
The Chief then announced each man’s work assignment, using made-up last names. Then we all reentered the hanger.
The Chief, nine of his men, and I left immediately. We walked through the steam tunnels departing the base in two plumbing trucks with German logos on the side. We arrived at the building in time to complete a full day’s work on our tunnel.
Two of our men, one wearing a distinctive orange coat and the other a brigh
t red windbreaker, emerged from the hanger with one of the Boden men, climbed into the panel truck and exited the base.
During that first day, our two men and several employees of Boden drove tractor-trailers onto the base. The bed of the first truck contained a large diamond-bladed concrete cutting tool, pneumatic power source, and jackhammers. When it arrived, the hangar doors were partially open exposing several crates and boxes. Our intention was to make the Stasi believe that the cargo delivered in the pregnant guppy had never left the hanger. Next, two large bulldozers, a trencher, and an articulated digger were unloaded and taken into the massive hanger before the doors were closed.
We planned that every workday several of the Seabees and the Chief or I would exit the hanger for a smoke break at odd times to provide proof that we were working inside.
In the middle of the night the next week, one of our Air Policemen caught a civilian employee of the airport as he tried to sneak into Hanger 1. He was arrested, identified as a Stasi operative, turned over to the West Berlin police and later released without being charged.
This was good news. The Stasi had taken the bait.
Our plan was for the Boden workers to cut a large chunk out of the middle of the concrete floor in the hanger and excavate the soil beneath it. Trucks would haul away the concrete and dirt. From time to time over the next several months, concrete-mixing trucks and pumping machines would cluster around Hanger 1. They would be used to fill in the hole. There would never be any structure beneath the floor of Hanger 1.
Chapter 53
Friday, January 27, 1961
TOP SECRET LUMAR—RESTRICTED DISTRIBUTION—US EYES ONLY
Memorandum #10 from Captain Robert Kerr Berlin, January 27, 1961
The construction rate of our work crew has exceeded my expectations. We are now eight days ahead of schedule.
The roll-up door and associated ramp from the street down into the basement and the wall designed to shield what goes on in the basement have been installed. In the process, the southeast end of the building has been stabilized.
All of our supplies and equipment have been moved from our construction yard into the basement.
Approximately half of the concrete slab has been removed from along the west wall.
Early next week we will begin excavating the ramp down to the tunnel entrance.
Signed,
Robert T. Kerr, Captain USAF
TOP SECRET LUMAR—RESTRICTED DISTRIBUTION—US EYES ONLY
Feet of Tunnel Completed: 0 Days until Deadline: 243
Chapter 54
Monday, January 30, 1961
For the last two weeks, I had been going to the building through the American Mission four days a week.
“Why do you have to go over to the American Mission every morning?” Anna asked when I told her we’d only walk to work together on Fridays.
I repeated the cover story created by Kurt. “Colonel Morgan has been asked to support the German-American Festival, which will occur here in the summer. I’ve turned over most of my duties to my new assistant.”
“What is this festival?”
“It is an attempt to improve German-American relations at a person-to-person level by holding an American county fair here in Berlin. Something I’d expect you to support.”
“Sounds to me like it’s a blatant attempt to win German citizen support for your Cold War and the fight against the communists,” she said sternly, then with a twinkle in her eye, added, “That’s actually a pretty good idea.”
Kurt greeted me in his office, which was large and furnished with Danish modern wood furniture. “Ah, Robert. Come in.”
“You asked to see me?”
“I’d like to suggest that you and Lorna have lunch at least twice a week. Will that be possible?” he asked.
“I guess it’s my fate to be a decoy whose task is to keep the spies entertained while the tunnel is being built. First, I have to appear outside of Hanger 1 several times a week. Now you want me to meet Lorna twice a week. Chief Weber is such an outstanding leader and manager, I can support both deception activities.”
“The bad guys are convinced you are leading a super-secret construction project. So, when you’re seen entering the American Mission every day and often taking a leisurely lunch with an attractive woman, they will wonder about the validity of their information.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I replied.
“Believe me, this is an excellent cover and deception gambit. It will drive Dieter and his bosses crazy.”
This gambit would have grave and unanticipated consequences.
Chapter 55
Anna
Friday, February 10, 1961
On my way to pick up a few things during my lunch break, I first noticed a tan Mercedes moving along the narrow side street at the same speed I was walking. Footfalls close behind me caused me to look back just as a giant put his massive hand around my elbow. He forced me over to the curb and into the back seat of the car.
The man who had identified himself as Dieter Holburg on Christmas day was seated there.
“Ah, Fraulein Fischer, we need your help finding out what your boyfriend Robert is doing here in Berlin. Will you help us willingly, or must we force you?”
“Please release me. You have no authority here in West Berlin!”
“But as a loyal German, you must realize the Americans are intent on making our beloved country into a colony.”
“No…”
“—You think that your Robert is such a wonderful man. He is seeing another woman.”
“I know Robert. He loves me.” I blurted without even thinking. “He wouldn’t…”
“—Here are numerous photographs of your boyfriend and this gorgeous redhead. She is striking, don’t you agree? You will notice that she is wearing different clothes in many of the photos. Eight times we have seen them together. Oh, in this one she appears to be kissing him on the ear. And in this one, they are obviously enjoying each other’s company. Makes one wonder who the joke is on.”
He forced me to look closely at each photo by grabbing my hair and turning my head toward them. “Do you and Robert enjoy your time together this much?”
Desperate to escape, I jerked on the handle of the car door and was surprised when it opened. I stumbled and almost fell getting out of the car. I rushed down the street to a major thoroughfare.
Knowing Robert loved me, I still found it difficult to get those images of them together out of my head.
Chapter 56
Robert
Friday-Saturday, February 10-11, 1961
Earlier in the week, the first pressure door had been installed. That Friday, we spent the entire day getting the Tunnel Boring Machine into position by using a hoist and giant sling.
Once the hydraulic and Bentonite hoses were attached to the massive TBM, the entire work crew gathered as I took a bottle of champagne and broke it over the boring head. “Men, we weren’t supposed to be at this point for another ten days. Each of you has worked hard, and everyone at all levels appreciates your efforts. Chief, fire it up.”
The three cutting heads—one massive, and two smaller ones on each side—began to turn. Bentonite impregnated water spewed from the nozzles arranged symmetrically around the front of the tunnel shield. The hydraulic jacks engaged, and the whole boring machine slowly moved forward. Sand started flowing down the trough, up the conveyor belt, and into a trailing mining cart.
Despite the centuries of construction experience represented by those gathered around the machine, the jubilant mood resulted in a rousing cheer. “Hooray. It worked!”
All of the management team including Mark, Scott, and Colonel Morgan witnessed this momentous event. The Chief walked up to us with an invitation, “Sirs, I made arrangements for us to have a steak fry this evening. The men would like you four to join us in a victory celebration. We’ll stay up until the swing shift ends at midnight when the real party can begin.”
I was su
rprised when even Colonel Morgan agreed to join us.
Feet of Tunnel Completed: 8 Days until Deadline: 228
Chapter 57
Friday, February 24, 1961
“We got a big problem, sir. Better get over here as soon as possible. This is serious,” the Chief revealed over the KY-7 scrambler telephone.
An hour later, he and I walked up to the end of the tunnel. The entire TBM rested at an odd angle, beyond it an open space.
“It’s fallen into a large cavity, sir.”
We crawled past the TBM using an opening the construction crew had dug, then jumped down onto a raised platform. I stated the obvious. “It’s an old wine merchant’s storage cellar. See the huge casks and racks at various levels. Looks to me as if it was dug over several centuries, new areas added at various levels as required.”
“There are even a few ancient empty bottles,” the Chief said picking one up. “This one has a label with the date 1735 written in old script.”
“Given that the TBM is designed to move forward by pushing on previously installed tunnel sections, we’re stuck. We can’t move forward, and we can’t move back. If the TBM falls down into that cavity on the far side, it could easily be damaged, and we might never get it out.”
This kind of monumental screw up was what Thomas Lane was counting on to make him look like a big man in his superiors’ eyes.
Once back in the tunnel, I began to experience a panic attack.
No way. Under no circumstance will you allow your men to see you this way, I thought, setting my jaw and clenching my fists. Somehow, I managed to blurt out, “Office…Chief…Now!”
By focusing on my breathing, I coped well enough to march lockstep to the office the Chief and I shared in the building. I bolted the door, and as the Chief stared at me in shock, I gasped, “Panic attack.”
My heart rate skyrocketed. I began to tremble and gasp for breath.
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