by Donald Hunt
The retreat of Max von Laue was very remote, about four kilometers north of the village of Halberstadt. The road was gravel but the snow had been plowed. The cabin was well maintained, but principally used in the summer. It had electricity and a wood-burning stove, a bedroom and a large living area with a hearth. Max had an office in a loft above the bedroom.
One of the resistance members had been to the cabin earlier in the day. He had built a fire and brought coffee, bread, bacon, beans and eggs. They arrived around midnight and the fire had burned low, but the cabin was warm and inviting.
Approaching the door, two of the men gave the Eichenwalds brief instructions. They should stay inside the cabin. There was plenty of firewood. Someone would contact them the next evening after dark. The men were aware that the time line projected them to be at the French coast by the 20th. As the men left, Hanz added wood to the stove and locked the door. Sleep was welcome for the two weary travelers.
At that same time, Himmler was sitting quietly in his office reviewing the files of the men on his staff. He explained the situation to the Munich office. The mole must be found and Eichenwald must be found as well. At first glance he did not notice anything unusual in the files of his office workers, but he remained suspicious. All 12,000 SS personal in Germany had been placed on ‘high alert’ for the Eichenwalds. The search was headed by Colonel Scheidemann and the focus would be along the western border. The couple likely was headed for England. They needed to be stopped at the German border. It would be more difficult to find them in France. All border points had been notified.
The following evening about 9:00 p.m., a man who appeared to be a farmer, came to the cabin on a motorcycle. He was brief. He told the Eichenwalds they would be picked up the following evening and gave no further details. Hanz and Marlene spent the next day resting. They ate a late breakfast of boiled eggs, coffee and bacon. The secluded cabin was comfortable but they were asked not to build a fire during the day. Smoke would call attention that someone was there. They wrapped themselves in blankets. That night, again around 9:00 p.m., the same man returned to the cabin.
“About 4:00 a.m., you will be placed in a truck for the journey to France,” he told them. “What kind of truck?” asked Hanz. “Is it safe?”
“You will see. It’s our best chance.”
He climbed on the motorcycle and looked at Hanz and Marlene. “Good luck,” he said as he pulled away.
The resistance was well organized. They had improvised an elaborate escape plan for a high profile target such as Dr. Eichenwald. A quick decision had been made to execute the plan for him. It involved a truck driver who transported a load of beer and ale once a week into occupied France for German troops. The route was from Heidelberg to Paris. The truck carried 32 barrels of beer. A carpenter had modified the bed of the truck and built a concealed compartment large enough for two adults lying flat. It had not been used previously. The major problem would be getting past the checkpoint at the border, then dealing with the consequences when the beer was not delivered in Paris on schedule. The Eichenwalds needed to be in Calais by January 20th. It would be too dangerous to deliver the beer with them concealed in the truck since the delivery warehouse was run by the German military. The driver had a choice. He could defect to England or take his chances of getting caught if he returned to Germany. There were no trials for those in the resistance. They were tortured for information and then shot.
Werner Schmidt was not a complex man. Raised on a farm, he had a ruddy complexion, light blue eyes and muscular shoulders and arms developed from years of plowing behind a mule. His father had sustained severe war injuries in 1917 and was an invalid who existed on a modest pension. Werner quit school in 1919 to help support the family. He married Maria Strobel, a girl he had known since childhood. As a teen Maria idolized Werner and now loved the simple life he provided. They lived on the family farm outside Heidelberg. Werner’s mother had died during childbirth and he was the only surviving child in his family.
He was not taken into the military because he was the only son of an invalid war veteran. He despised Hitler and what he had done to Germany, and as a result, joined the underground in 1939. He had never confided this to Maria. Although she never questioned him about his activities, she suspected his involvement. Werner lived a dangerous double life. A man living very much on the edge, he had been making the weekly beer runs for over a year, crossing back and forth across the border at Strasbourg, France. He had limited information about underground operations, but knew code words and the names of several operatives. His truck had not been used in any previous clandestine operation; now it was time.
Since joining in 1939, only two men had been caught by the SS. Both died without giving up vital information. Families were never involved in the resistance and wives never participated. They were simply too vulnerable. Rape and torture of wives in the presence of their husbands was an SS specialty. Men with children at home were never in the underground for the same reason.
Werner had spent the afternoon with Maria. She sensed something different in his behavior. He sat with her in his arms, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. As he looked down his eyes filled with tears.
“Werner, what is it?” she pressed. “I’m going to Paris tomorrow.” “You go every week.”
“I won’t be returning…at least not for a while. If anyone inquires about me, you expected me back in two days as usual. Do you understand?”
“Do you have to do this? I mean, why? Why do you have to go?” “This is my way….our way….” He could not continue. Maria looked into his eyes and nodded her head. She shared his contempt for the Nazis. Now she was being called on to do her part and was resolved to do it well. She did not understand exactly what he was doing, but she now understood he would not return. He was not afraid to die and even believed he could stand up to torture. But he knew his limits. He could never endure seeing his Maria in the hands of the SS. He would give them what they wanted and still be killed. The underground carried even more risk than fighting at the front. At least he believed in his cause. Many at the front did not.
Werner and Maria Schmidt were among the hundreds, perhaps thousands of heroes of the war. They clung to each other and cried. Finally, he pulled himself away from her. “Be brave Maria,” he said. “I will see you again…I don’t know when. I love you.”
He left about midnight for the three hour trip to Halberstadt. He had filled the truck with petrol and soaked several rags in it as well, then placed them in a metal container. It was a cold, clear night. Trucks traveling on rural roads did not raise suspicion. There were no known check points between Heidelberg and the Harz mountains. He took back roads and by-passed Frankfurt. The truck arrived at the von Laue cabin about 3:45 a.m. on Monday 15th. The Eichenwalds heard the truck and were ready.
As they walked out of the cabin Werner greeted them with handshakes. “I am your ride to France. You’ll need blankets.”
Hanz inquired about the truck and how they would be concealed.
“There is a compartment built into the bed of the truck big enough for two adults,” said Werner.“If you did not know it was there, it would be difficult to detect. The border guards at Strasbourg will likely have dogs that can detect human scent. Petrol confuses their sense of smell. As we approach you will open this container filled with petrol soaked rags to confuse them.”
“Will it work?” asked Hanz.
“It should,” Werner replied. “But we haven’t tried it. Now our lives depend on it.”
“And if it doesn’t work?
“Then I will be shot and you will be arrested,” he said.
Anna had not talked with her parents in almost a week. Her custom was to see them at Synagogue. Now there was no Synagogue to attend. She had phoned on two occasions without success. She was unaware of any travel plans. Jews were barred from travel although she seemed to recall a planned trip
to Munich for some type of lecture. It was Monday morning, January 15th. Anna had finished staffing the surgical clinic and was doing chart review in her office. She had planned to work late and kept thinking of the time she would have later in the day with Christian. Then her secretary Theresa knocked on the door and entered. Anna noted a confused expression on her face.
“Dr. Eichenwald, there are two officers to see you.”
Almost simultaneously, two SS officers walked into her office, one moving Theresa aside on entering.
“Dr. Eichenwald, sorry to bother you. Are you aware your parents have disappeared?” Anna was clearly startled.
“Disappeared…no…when?”
She felt her blood pressure rising. She stood facing the men, her mind racing to try to recall their conversation about the bomb project. But she had known almost nothing about her father’s work. The senior officer continued.
“Your father was scheduled to deliver a lecture at the University of Munich on Friday. He and your mother boarded the train to Munich on Thursday evening. They were not on the train when it arrived…and you do not know of their where-abouts?”
“No, I have no idea.”
The officer would not divulge the information that they were removed from the train, but he was convinced Anna was being truthful, and he would report that to Himmler. As they left, he handed her a card with the SS headquarters number.
“Please call us if you hear from them….” He knew she would not.
That evening Anna was more than anxious to see Christian. Their routine was to meet in the surgical lounge and talk briefly about surgical issues, then leave separately and meet again in his office using a back entrance. When Anna approached Christian he smiled and gave his usual warm greeting. Anna did not return the smile.
“My parents have disappeared,” she said quietly. “I’m sure they have left the country or they’re trying to leave. I’ll see you in 20 minutes in your office.”
As Anna left the lounge, Christian’s head was spinning. He sat down to gather his thoughts. None of the medical staff had heard from the Counsel on Eugenics, but he was aware of the Nazi programs to eliminate mentally and physically handicapped children. He was concerned that the escape of the Eichenwalds could trigger the arrest of Anna. He had mailed her picture to his sister in Leipzig, but had no word from her. Now he felt a greater urgency. He knew that Anna was at greater risk.
The two met in his office and sat on a sofa. Anna agreed that she could be arrested at any time as a reprisal.
“This is looking more dangerous for me by the day. I know my parents were at risk, just like me. Something may have triggered their leaving. I think the SS believes I did not know anything about it. That seemed obvious, I think. But it won’t protect me. They may be deciding while we speak when to make their move.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Christian agreed. “I’ll contact Sarah tomorrow. She has been working on your identity papers and looking for a place for you to live and a job for you. If need be, you can live in her flat for a few weeks.”
“Well, we knew it was coming. Now it’s here.”
* * *
Werner Schmidt had decided it would be safe for Hanz and Marlene to ride with him in the truck cab until daybreak, or until they approached Heidelberg. Once in the concealed compartment, they would have to remain there until well past the checkpoint at Strasbourg. That would be a tiring six hours. During the ride he was able to get some information about his ‘VIP’ passengers. After hearing about the KWI and the nuclear bomb project, he knew he had made the right decision to risk his life for them.
“Can you tell us anything about yourself?” asked Hanz. “The other resistance workers have said nothing. We are grateful for those who are risking their lives for us. If you cannot speak, we will understand.”
After a long silence Werner finally spoke. “I can tell you about myself if you like, but only because of this special circumstance.”
“You mean our trip to the English Channel?”
“Let me explain,” said Werner. “I have worked in the resistance for three years. My wife is not involved and knows nothing of what I do. We have no children and my father was left an invalid by the first war. That’s why I am not in the military. I chose to resist the Nazis. I drive this beer truck to Paris once each week. We have prepared for one year for an important person or persons who need out of Germany not knowing who that might be. Now we have names and faces.”
“So, this truck is the special circumstance?”
Werner continued. “Partly. If we get by the German border, then we will be joined by someone from the French underground. We will by-pass Paris and drive to Reims, then to Calais. When I do not arrive in Paris on schedule, the SS will begin to look for me. They may go as far as connecting me to your escape. At any rate, we will dump the beer in the ocean and burn the truck. The French underground is in contact with the English by short-wave. That’s all I know. If I am caught they would torture my wife in my presence to get information from me. For this reason I am going with you to England. My other option would be to go back and work in another part of the country and if caught, end my life. Either way, I would not see my wife again.”
Marlene was moved by the story.
“So, you are giving up your family for us?” “No. I am doing this to fight Nazis.”
Daybreak approached. Werner turned off of the main road onto a gravel road that led to a farmhouse. He turned into the lane to the house.
“The occupants have left. They do not want to see you nor you them. Go inside and use their toilet. If we get by the border, you will be in the compartment for the next six hours. In one-half hour we will load the beer. Then to the border. You must not speak or make any noise at the border.”
He handed Hanz the metal container with the petrol soaked rags.
“I will tell you when to open it and place the rags around your bodies. There is a small passage from the truck cabin to the compartment for ventilation and communication.”
The Eichenwalds disappeared into the farmhouse and returned in five minutes.
The flatbed truck had wooden side rails. The ones in the rear could be removed for loading and unloading. Hanz helped Marlene up onto the bed platform. He was searching for the compartment opening but could not find it. Werner then stepped onto the platform and used a small steel pin to pry open two side by side doors that opened like barn doors. Their borders were cleverly concealed in the slot margins of the platform. Hanz and Marlene lay down in the compartment with the canister between them. As Werner closed the doors, it occurred to both that this compartment could be their coffin. Neither mentioned these thoughts to the other.
After the 30 minute ride, the truck pulled into the distribution dock. Thirty-two kegs of beer and ale were loaded. The Eichenwalds were both thinking the next few hours would end their lives or send them on to freedom and safety. They could see very little. Hanz searched for Marlene’s hand. They set off again for another 90 minute journey from Heidelberg to the German border. Werner spoke with them through the ventilation passage. They were cold. Then truck began to slow.
“Open the canister and place the rags around you,” Werner said calmly. “We are approaching the checkpoint.”
Marlene began to feel nauseated. She swallowed to try to keep from vomiting.
Werner had made the trip weekly for about a year. He knew a number of the soldiers by name. As he pulled up to the guardrail blocking the road, he saw no familiar faces. All of the men were SS. He was not waved through as usual, but was directed to pull off of the road. An SS lieutenant walked to the truck.
“Good day. Please get out of the cab.”
As Werner stepped down the lieutenant continued.
“We are looking for a couple trying to escape the country, a Jew and his wife. Have you seen them?”
“I have no kn
owledge of them,” he replied, looking directly at the lieutenant. Werner could see that the lieutenant did not believe him.
“Step aside!” he yelled sharply. “We are going to unload the truck.”
Four SS soldiers then unloaded each barrel of beer, carefully rocking each one to feel the movement of the contents. They were 50-liter containers and could easily hold an adult. One by one, the barrels were checked. The lieutenant watched carefully as the troops finished checking all of the barrels. He began to be agitated and glared at the soldiers.
“Are you certain?” he demanded. “Ja, Leftenant!”
The lieutenant then stepped up on the platform. “Get the dogs!”
He walked across the truck bed. Hanz and Marlene lay terrified below. Neither could move a muscle. They could feel the force of the lieutenant’s boots as he stood on the wood over them. Standing directly on the doors, he looked down.
“Herr Leftenant…a call for you,” said the sergeant.
The lieutenant stepped down to take the call, but gave an order as he walked away. “Have the dogs inspect the truck.”
Two German shepherds circled the truck and as they crawled under the truck they seemed confused. The petrol rags were doing their job. Then one of the dogs began to bark at something in the undercarriage. The sergeant looked under the flat bed, then back up at the lieutenant as he returned.
“What is it?”
The sergeant saw a dead bird that had been caught between the petrol tank and the iron frame of the truck.
“A dead bird,” said the sergeant. “Load the beer.”
