As I was trembling, wet and cold, she draped a red dressing gown over my shoulders. ‘My poor darling,’ she said. ‘I have nothing to offer you, not even coffee. I went to get some this morning but they didn't have any left, not even the dreadful ersatz mixture.’
‘Don't worry, my darling,’ I replied. ‘At this time of night I am not used to eating or drinking anything anyway.’
Then there was a little awkward pause. Despite our obvious love for each other, we were essentially strangers and I felt that I was by no means master of the situation. I sat on a green upholstered bench with the little Pekinese staring at me from a chair opposite. I was sure he was raising his eyebrows. I was a little embarrassed and turned around so my back was facing the dog, but to no avail. The little creature trotted around the bench and took up his previous position. ‘What does the little doggy want, my sweetheart?’
‘Oh darling, he's only wondering why we are still up. We should be in bed at this time of night,’ she replied, and turned a bright shade of red that could be seen all the way down the V-neck of her top. She had already removed her jacket. And while I battled with my clammy and now slightly shrunken jumper she was getting undressed with the sure and confident moves of a truly beautiful woman.
Before I set off on my journey into this evil country, where so many unfair things were taking place, I swore to do one good deed a day by way of compensation. I was not yet able to put this into practice. When I thought about it, I had spent more time teasing or even deceiving my people. Now, to put the little doggie's mind at ease, going to bed was my first truly noble deed. The fair lady spoke:
‘My dear heart, if you are angry with me you must forgive me. There is no need to be jealous. I was certain that you were dead and when someone has died there is no point in considering their feelings. None of the people I’ve been with are my lover but I cannot stay in my cold room all day and night with only the dog for company. As soon as I recognised you I distanced myself immediately and came with you, didn't I? Now if you really don't have anything to wear for your journey home, then I can give you a nice warm shawl and my brother's old overcoat; a shame though, that they will both be a little large on you. You can also have my golf shoes, although they may also be a little large, but if you stick some tissues in the pointy bits then they should do. They are in a male style and I don't get around to playing much golf these days. I haven't told you yet because I didn't want to spoil our evening together, but I will be working again tomorrow and won't be able to see you until my next holiday. When I'm on duty I'm not allowed to see any other men, but I guess you have to leave anyway. No, don't get upset, darling. I won't cheat on you. When I am keeping watch on someone it does sometimes happen that we become intimate but have no fear, it is not out of love but purely because the situation demands it. It doesn't mean anything. I do really love you, even if you are quite poor now. I'm even giving you my lovely golf shoes. I firmly believe that they will never produce shoes that are so solid again, even when the war is over. I am no ordinary girl. My friends have always said that I have a heart of gold. Come, feel my heart. How it is pounding only because you are here. We must sleep now, you are going away, and I must report to the Gestapo at twelve o’clock … I know who I will be spying on next and shouldn't really tell you but I don't want to keep anything from you. Listen closely, it is a petty officer in the navy and I hate petty officers, especially sailors. They’re so common and always spit on the carpet. If I had the choice and won the lottery I would only sleep with civilians. The Gestapo knows the man is a traitor but they’re unable to prove anything and have to be careful because he's highly decorated. Strange, because he is such an unremarkable man. He squints and has liaisons with common prostitutes … Ouch! What are doing, you’re hurting me!’
So as not to shout out loud, I was digging my nails into my flesh, but in the darkness I had made a mistake and dug into her flesh. I apologised, ‘My darling, I did not want to hurt you, but I was reminded of when they shot at me and stole my things. My hands started to cramp up involuntarily …’
Was there no way out of this? I thought hard and then asked, ‘What if they tell you to follow someone but you are unable to get to them and indeed, you are not their type because they prefer the garishly made-up drunken old hags? What if he does not react to you? Will you then get a different assignment and they put someone else on to him?’
‘You have no idea, darling,’ she responded, obviously hurt in her professional pride. ‘There's no such thing as not getting close or getting no reaction. They choose us well and there is no danger of failing to get a reaction. First of all I’ll go to the baths of the old sailors’ home. I know he goes there for a bath each morning and I have no doubt that he’ll be attracted to me. Although I'm beautiful, and I know it, even men with ordinary common tastes are attracted to me. And once I have gained their trust they tell me everything. And if there is anything they neglect to tell me I will then find out by looking through the bins or reading their letters. But don't you worry, there's no reason to be jealous. I have already told you that I am only doing my job, my heart remains completely uninvolved. If it wasn't I wouldn't have such a history of success: in thirty-seven cases there is not a single failure.’
I didn't know what to say to that so I pretended to be asleep.
8
ARREST
‘Maschinenmaat Griesemann,’ the captain said with his arms behind his back and chin resting despondently on his chest, ‘you’re a swine! Nothing but a common swine. If ever there was any one of God's creatures who deserved comparison with the even-toed ungulate, who spends most of his time wallowing in the muck, then it must be you. Take your eyes off that clock there which, if you had bothered to look at one while you were in your lover's den, you may not have been late for duty. I guess there are men, or sorry pigs, whom we cannot treat with goodwill and respectability, but who deserve a kick in their grunting swine face. Look how you are standing! You can hardly stay awake and up straight, you bucket of vice. Do you know what you missed today?’
I did know but I was too tired to care. I had almost missed the opportunity to meet the Führer face to face, which should have been the fulfilment of my utmost desires but I didn't feel it was so. A delegation of our crew, including all those decorated, had been invited to Berchtesgaden – one of the greatest honours that could be bestowed upon a German sailor or soldier. And for this visit we had to decide on something we all wanted that would be paid for by the treasury, provided that it complied with the soldierly discipline of the Reich. For my part, I had no other wish than to be a thousand miles away, preferably on a South Sea island where I could sleep a little longer – and avoid meeting Christine in the baths tomorrow morning where she would be handing me a threadbare towel with the steely smile of a professional and in the service of my most dangerous enemy. I hadn't had any breakfast that morning. I was dragged in here as soon as I turned up, dead tired at ten o’clock in the morning. I had left my gifts behind. What was I to do with a pair of ladies’ golf shoes? Surely they would not be appropriate for wearing in the German navy, and even less for such an important stately visit? I was no longer listening to the captain's sermon, but as he ended I was awakened from my thoughts.
‘Herr Kapitän,’ I began. ‘I know that I do not deserve your kindness. My flesh is weak and I easily succumb to temptation. Please lock me up and only let me out once we are marching to the station for the visit to Berchtesgaden. I know then I will not be able to do any more mischief, and if I am still allowed to make a wish, then I will come up with something that can be fulfilled in prison.’
The captain appeared moved by my speech. I could read in his face that he was thinking, what if there is a hidden agenda in this newly found humility? I was only trying to avoid Christine. I had no experience of naval prisons but I was sure there was little chance of fair maidens gaining access to me. The captain took several long strides through the room, his chin was now raised and his arms folded across
his chest.
‘My dear chap,’ he responded, ‘it seems that uncharacteristic feelings have taken over your conscience. Admissions of guilt and a need for punishment – those are quite new for you. I had no intention of locking you up. I was only going to give you a firm warning. I'm not sure if I have already done so?’
It just went to show that there was no point in taking any of his scolding seriously. In the same way that absentminded people forget whether they have just brushed their teeth or taken medicine, he could obviously not remember what he had just said.
‘You wanted to kick my swine face,’ I responded helpfully, but also with due contrition.
‘Fine, fine,’ he said. ‘But really, you must pull yourself together. If you think being locked up is good for the soul then I won't hesitate. Everyone is allowed to enjoy their life, but duty is duty. There's no excuse for failing us. You know what happens when you fail to take your duty seriously! Just remember the torpedoing of the Minna von Barnhelm? You yourself were on the second periscope and are one of the few that know all about it.’ Immersed in thoughts of an event that was buried deep in his conscious, he paced up and down the room and stopped in front of me. ‘Gotthold, a question for your honour and conscience, was it really kept secret?’
With one eye on the clock I knew it was half-past eleven; only half an hour to go until lunchtime. Cheered by this thought I could answer with full confidence: ‘I swear on my honour, Herr Kapitän!’
***
So I wasn't thrown in the usual prison after all. The captain seemed to fear that the Gestapo might get their hands on me if I went there. That they were already closing in on me in the form of Christine was something I was unwilling to disclose because it would reveal too much of my true identity. Instead I went to another prison on the first floor. Two rooms away from the captain's makeshift office there was a room with bars across the window. In the early days, when even married sailors were permitted to live in the home, one of the helmsmen had added the bars as a measure to prevent further accidents after one of his lively children had fallen out the window. The room was currently empty and had been adapted as a temporary prison and was identifiable as such by a nicely handwritten sign. It was meant for solitary confinement yet offered greater comfort than the room I had been sharing recently. The door was locked and the key always in the pocket of the duty sergeant. There was no one guarding the door. I had been shown how to open the door without a key, with a deft lift and a push in case of an emergency, like an air raid or fire.
The food I was given was the same as the others and I was allowed to receive post and smoke cigarettes. The only inconvenience was that for all the journeys that had hitherto been easy, I now needed an armed escort. I slept through the first twelve hours and was beginning to think this was going to be quite pleasant. Then they started to allow me visitors and I was no longer left in peace.
It was the evening of my first day, whilst I was not yet allowed any visitors, when together with my evening soup I received a letter delivered by the orderly with a grin. It bore a Danish stamp and was written in the handwriting of a 9-to 11-year-old. I spooned my bean soup but was quickly bored by its blandness and focused my attention on the cryptic letter:
Dear kind Uncle Gotthold,
How is the kind old man … have you sent me anything unfortunately not received? Dead perhaps? Sincerely I do truly hope now that he is alive. Did my uncle not die? I confess that I don't know or expect to receive another letter.
From your loyal nephew, Leo.
My initial reaction was what a stupid letter! I don't even have a nephew, at least not according to the diaries I had studied. Then I thought – could this be from the Leo I had met in London? The one who put me on this mission? It was a bit strange that I had not heard anything recently. I remembered the code he had given me: the first word of a sentence was of meaning, then the following two had to be ignored to pick up the next relevant one, and so on.
Dear Gotthold,
The man sent, unfortunately dead. I hope he did not confess. Don't expect another, your Leo.1
Of course, it all made sense now and explained why the letter sounded so childish. I also now understood why the Geheime Macht had given up on me. They really believed that the anonymous fellow with the will to change the world was dead, and the slimy Griesemann lived on. Fair enough, there would be no replacement. I didn't think I could stomach another change of identity; one was enough for me.
After the terrible tiredness had abated, I tried to make sense of what it meant for me to be invited to meet the Führer. I really should have felt honoured but I didn't feel any reason to celebrate. People in Germany had nothing decent to eat and their money wasn't worth anything. All they had was their Führer. Keeping watch on this prized asset were tens of thousands of young men. These capable young men had no other task than to protect and to shield him. I'm sure they wouldn't let anyone suspicious close to him, especially not if the contact was close and without supervision. I had put myself under suspicion, not because they knew who I really was but because of the nature of the person they thought I was. This was not helped by getting into trouble all the time, and now being penalised for it, and for having a beautiful and unscrupulous person who has never failed a mission lying in wait.
I sighed and wondered where she was. The baths had the same entrance as the laundry rooms, leading off the ground floor of the courtyard just opposite my window. Had I been accidentally peering out the window while she was on the lookout for me? No, I couldn't have. I had been in bed all day. And, I further calculated, the baths were only open until eleven o’clock. If she had to meet with the Gestapo at noon, then she would never be able to make it here before tomorrow, even if everything was arranged in time. I had to be on my guard tomorrow: the girl was not to be underestimated and was by far my superior in terms of wit and craftiness.
The grinning orderly returned to take my tray. His grin seemed even more malicious as he picked up the bowl with the untouched cold bean soup. I now recognised him as the same person I had spoken to on my first outing in uniform, carried on shoulders by the youngsters gleefully predicting that I would be dunked. Surely I was his superior? Didn't I have the right to shout at him and make him stand to attention? The next time I would be sure to study all the relevant rule and guide books before commencing such an adventure; then I would only have myself to blame. Who knew the rules for the navy? What rights did I have now that I was the imprisoned and he was my custodian? Could he answer by taunting me that I was no longer his superior as long as I was a prisoner? I decided not to try my luck and let it be. The man was still standing there with his dirty thumb resting in the cold soup. He had something else to say.
‘What do you want?’ I asked a little rudely.
‘The captain wants me to let you know that if you have any specific requirements or wishes, whether for your breakfast or any other occasion, then you should let me know and he will see what he can do.’
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Please convey my thanks to him. If at all possible I would like some porridge and a whole coconut. You may want to write that down otherwise your tiny brain may not cope. Anything else?’
He sneered even more. ‘Yes, Herr Maat. Someone spoke to the captain about the baths. I am supposed to tell you that you have permission to use the baths every morning and the officer on duty will accompany you there and back.’
‘Thank you but I decline the kind offer. I have no intention of having a bath or shower. By the way, can you swim?’ He looked at me stupidly and nodded.
‘Thank goodness. At least that means there is no danger of you drowning in my bean soup.’ His entire hand was immersed in the bowl but he showed no understanding of my joke. Only when I hissed, ‘Get out!’ did he understand and leave the room.
I was a sergeant and member of the navy in combat, decorated and imprisoned for the mishap of being slovenly and not reporting for duty. I didn't think this gave them the right to force me into a showe
r like a political refugee. I was also sure they wouldn't allow me female visitors. That was not the done thing. Even in ancient Rome or the Middle Ages there were certain rules and regulations when it came to prisoners, even under the darkest regime. I didn't think she would be able to follow me to Berchtesgaden, before which I was unlikely to leave my prison. After that we would probably re-embark, and that made it a little more difficult for her. I lay down in bed and fell asleep to these reassuring thoughts.
The next morning I was brought a bowl of porridge and the requested coconut. I was sure they were not easy to get hold of and not cheap. In a few months’ time they would be even scarcer. It must have been knocking around Europe for some time with hardly any coconut milk left inside but I was not that bothered. I removed the bast fibre and made thin strips which I dunked into the porridge and formed a set of sideburns, long thick eyebrows shaped into a mono-brow and some longer bits at the back of my neck that now fell messily on to the sailor's collar. Then I stuck the headrest under my shirt. It looked like a real hunchback but gave me the appearance of being more narrow-shouldered than I was. Thus disguised I approached the window, taking care to be only partially visible and in profile.
Any Survivors (2008) Page 11
