‘And his wife?’
‘We’ve never heard from her again.’
‘What? Surely the Polizei would be able to trace her?’
‘My dear boy, remember that the ‘Night and Fog’ order of 1938 is still in place. Nobody has repealed it.’ He saw the look of puzzlement on Simon’s face. ‘Ah, I forgot. You were still in England at the time, and obviously don’t know what it means. Quite simply, it gives the Nazis the power to seize anybody they like, without recourse to legal proceedings or the courts, on whatever pretext they wish and detain them indefinitely. The rule of law, as we used to know it, is completely side-stepped. In essence, it’s anarchy. Every request and search I tried to perform was blocked. To all purposes, it was if she no longer existed.’
‘My God’. Simon was overcome with disgust and pity. ‘Poor man.’ He sat quietly for a few moments. ‘And yet he served me tonight without a trace of resentment. Me, in SS uniform, and with these medals?’
‘Max, he knows you’re a friend of the family. He also knows about Klarissa. You’ve both lost a wife. He realises that you were drafted into the SS without a free choice. I told him. And those medals were awarded for bravery in the service of your country. Even the Oak Leaves, which I’m told you’re about to get from the Führer himself. These are for deeds on the battlefield, not lip-service to twisted, depraved politicians and their underlings.’
‘Yes, I know, Admiral, but I keep on asking myself which Germany is it I’m fighting for? I came back from England five years ago to find what I considered to be a great country in the grip of momentous events. I thought that Hitler was a cause for good. He got the country back on its feet, gave it a sense of purpose and direction, and restored its honor. The economic issues were resolved. The country was prosperous. People respected our achievements. But I didn’t see the excesses that happened along the way, like what you’ve just mentioned. And when war came I didn’t seriously believe that it would last, not after the terrible blood letting of the Great War. I thought that everybody would come to their senses sooner than later.’ He stopped for a few moments, and then continued. ‘I was glad to help out, at least at first. Then along came the crusade against communism, freeing the Russian peasants - all that sort of thing. And the peasants were so grateful. They wept with joy when we liberated them and drove the Red Army back. And we saw the reality of Stalin’s Communist rule - prisons full of murdered convicts, shot in cold blood by the NKVD just before they retreated, and worse. Some things I’ll never forget- like the first time I saw some of our captured troops who’d been tortured by the enemy. The barbarity inflicted on them was terrible. You could tell by the way they died that their agony was prolonged as much as possible. Some of my comrades had to be evacuated from the shock of what they saw.
‘But as time went by, I came to realise that most of the enemy were not sadists - they were just in the same miserable state as we were, innocent victims in a great struggle, if you will. And as I said to you earlier, there’s no appreciable difference between those in the Wehrmacht and the Waffen SS. We’ve all got our backs against the wall, fighting for our homes and a vision of Germany, whatever that is now. Very few of them are still ardent Nazis, whatever the uniform. I think most of us had some sort of belief in the righteousness of our cause to start off with, but that’s changed. And I‘ve seen some sights recently that make me wonder if all this death and destruction has been nothing but a sick, perverted joke, in the cause of a country I barely know anymore.’
Canaris looked at him steadily, sizing him up. ‘First, Max, it’s high time you called me Wilhelm’. Simon nodded. ‘And so you’re beginning to realise that we’re well on the road to ruin? Good. I’m pleased you’ve come to your senses at last. Your father was always worried that you were too naive, too innocent, too keen to get involved and win glory for yourself, the family name and Germany- in that order, I may add’. He chuckled briefly’. ‘Do you still keep in contact with him?’
‘No’. Simon felt somewhat guilty. His father and Canaris had long been good friends. For some years he had worked in the Abwehr before moving to a senior position in the Home Army. There was a strong family tradition of military service and excellence. Simon had felt duty-bound to return from England and follow that example. But the sudden divorce, while he was away training at officer school, had badly disrupted the father- son relationship. The only way he had managed to cope with the traumatic split was by retreating into his shell. As a result, his father had suddenly become persona non grata.
‘Well, you should do. He still loves you very much, even if he does have difficulty in expressing his emotions. And he’s never stopped loving you. He still writes?’ Simon nodded. ‘Maybe it’s time you gave him a real chance to explain his motives, and what happened back then. He deserves that, at the very least.’
‘Do you still see him?’
Canaris smiled. ‘From time to time. He’s well. Shall I call him in?’
‘What? He’s here?’ Simon suddenly felt alarmed. His heart raced. He had not counted on seeing his father so soon.
‘Yes. He’s been here for some time. I telephoned him before dinner from another room. I thought it was time for the two of you to meet again. Three years is far too long, if I may say so. I presume you have no objections?’ Simon was too amazed to reply.
Canaris picked up a small hand bell and shook it. Alfred appeared a few moments later. ‘Alfred, please ask Oberst Simon to join us.’ Alfred bowed and left the room. Soon Simon heard the heavy tread of officer boots approaching. The last time the two of them had spoken had been abrupt, one-sided and acrimonious. He got up, mentally bracing himself for the encounter.
A tall, stern looking and thickset man in his late fifties strode into the room, dressed in a field grey uniform. A dueling scar marked the right side of his face, diagonally bisecting the cheek. His hair was cut very short, sparse brown stubble interspersed with grey. He nodded at Canaris, and strode forward to face his son. His face softened a fraction. ‘Max, I’m s-‘
‘No. Father, let me speak’. Simon put up his hand, silencing his father. ‘I’m the one who should be apologising’, he began, stiffly. ‘Our last meeting was not something I’m proud of. And I’ve tried to cut you out of my life since then. Recently I’ve begun to realise that perhaps my actions were not honorable, and I regret what happened between us. But it still doesn’t change what happened between you and Mother, why she and Katrin fled in disgrace, and what destroyed our home.’
‘Maybe it’s time I helped.’ Canaris had got up. He looked at both men. ‘Gentlemen, I outrank you both, so shut up, sit down and listen to what I have to say.’ He rang the bell again. The other two sheepishly sat down. ‘Alfred, bring in another bottle of that Samalens.’ He turned back to the others. ‘It’s the last one I’ve got, so let’s hope you can both unwind your stiff necks, make up and enjoy a glass or two.’ He paused while the butler re-entered the room. ‘Thank you. Alfred, please keep an eye out at the front, and let me know if there are any problems.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I hope Brandt’s alright. He should have been here some time ago. It’s too early for the RAF.’ Alfred nodded and disappeared.
‘Where was I? Yes, that’s it - sorting you two out. Mannfred, you should have opened your mouth ages ago. Don’t you trust your son? I do. As for you Max,- you’re still quite young, and have a lot to learn, even from an old idiot like me. So get off your high horse for a moment. You’re a fine man, and in many ways the son of your father. But sometimes you have to look at the broader picture.’ He paused.
‘Tonight you haven’t once asked me once about my wife, or family. You’ve met them before. Where do you think they are?’ Canaris looked enquiringly at him.
Simon was momentarily confused. ‘I’m sorry. It didn’t once come into my mind.’
‘Well, let me help you out here. My wife is recuperating with some relatives in Austria. Shall we say a stone’s throw from the Swiss border, under a different identity with paper
s to match. She left two days ago. And my two daughters are somewhere in Bavaria, or is it Baden-Württemberg? I can never quite remember’. Canaris smiled slyly. It was quite obvious that he knew exactly where they were. ‘Why do you think this is?’
Simon was unsure as to where this conversation was going. ‘Was it to keep them from being bombed, unlike Klarissa?’
‘No. There’s always that risk, no matter where you are, although admittedly it’s much less likely away from the cities. And Klarissa was very unlucky to be caught like that.’ Canaris sighed. ‘It’s a worthy motive, but the real reason is their safety from the likes of Himmler and his gang. If I could, I’d get them all into Switzerland where they’d be even safer, but that’s now become very difficult. RSHA keeps a tight seal on virtually all the border crossings and has done so for several years. And at this time such a move would be far too obvious. Your mother and sister managed to get out just in time, three years ago… I played a part in that,’ he added, quietly.
‘You did? How?’
‘By supplying them with false passports and identities. It worked very well. RSHA has no idea who they really are, and now it seems that they’re no longer interested. They think that once your parents split up, that was the end of it.’
‘But why would RSHA be interested in my father, or my mother and sister?’
‘Simple. They were investigating the Abwehr, me - but most of all your father and all at the same time. A Sicherheitsdienst squad was rummaging through all our lives, checking out both work and family life. Himmler was behind it, looking for anything he could get his grubby paws into. We were suspected of passing intelligence to Germany’s enemies.’
‘And were you?’ Simon was stunned.
Canaris smiled mischievously. ‘I couldn’t possibly comment. But your father was getting desperate - he was the principle target. Mannfred was afraid that a successful investigation would destroy his family. All of you would have been associated with any proven guilt. Your mother and sister would have ended up in a concentration camp - ever heard of these?’ Simon nodded, open-mouthed. ‘Your father would have been shot, after a lengthy and very unpleasant interrogation. And you would have been kicked out of officer school and sent to some Wehrmacht penal battalion, where life expectancy is not great, as I’m sure you know. Not something that anybody would want, especially a caring, loving father’.
Canaris paused, watching Simon’s face, keenly. Maybe the pfennig is beginning to drop.
‘It was my idea, the divorce,’ he said, quietly.
Simon stood up, amazed. ‘What? You?’
‘Yes, me.’ Canaris looked slightly ashamed. ‘And for this I profoundly apologize. But hear me out. My thinking was that a divorce would throw the SD investigation off the scent, a smoke-screen to protect your father. At the same time I planted some false evidence to distract the thrust of their investigation elsewhere. Himmler doesn’t have any high quality operatives, with one exception, and the SD blockheads were completely duped into believing the bogus information I supplied them with.
‘In addition, I invented this cock and bull story about your mother being unfaithful. To make it plausible, I planted evidence strongly suggesting that she was having a secret affair with a handsome Italian military attaché. She is, after all, a rather beautiful woman, and considerably younger than Mannfred. Your father was often away on Abwehr business, so it wasn’t that difficult to plant the evidence and make it look convincing. And the only way to make it seem real was not to tell her. Your father took a lot of persuading, but eventually he agreed to the plan. It was the only way he could guarantee their safety - by divorcing your mother, splitting the family and ensuring that at least one half of the family would survive the war. So he instigated legal proceedings, claiming that he’d been wronged, and that it was the duty of any self-respecting man loyal to the Führer’s concept of the National Socialist family to get rid of an unfaithful wife. It wasn’t easy. Many times he confided in me that it was the worst thing he’d ever had to do in his life. I have never seen a man go through such pain in dissociating himself from the woman he loved. And when your mother could finally take it no more she fled, taking Katrin with her. I arranged to get them both into Switzerland, where they still are. They’re both very well, and staying with your aunt in Lausanne. And they’re very safe in their new identities.’ Canaris turned to face Simon’s father. ‘Aren’t they, Mannfred?’
Simon turned to look at his father. The older man was wiping his face with a handkerchief.
‘Yes, they’re well’, he said at last. ‘And they send their love’. He glanced up at Simon’s face. ‘I get a letter every month. It goes to my sister in Hannover, who then sends it on to me, suitably disguised. Just in case somebody is watching. They say they can’t wait until we’re all reunited when the war’s over. And they’re desperately sorry they can’t write to you. A letter could be stopped by a military censor, and then questions would be asked, questions you might find very difficult to answer in an SS unit. But they’ve never stopped loving you. Nor have I, even when you thrust me out of your life’. He sighed heavily and bowed his head.
Simon didn’t know what to believe, or who to turn to.‘But why didn’t you tell me this? Why all the secrecy? For God’s sake, couldn’t you trust your own son?’
Mannfred looked up again. ‘I’m sorry. I tried, but you wouldn’t listen. And then I thought that it might be for the best. The SD might want to check up on you. If they smelled a rat then all our efforts would have been wasted. Did they send someone to interview you?’
‘Yes’. Simon remembered being abruptly summoned from his classes to meet a weasel-faced Sonderführer from the SD. It was not a pleasant experience. The grilling had gone on for over an hour. The same questions were asked over and over again, regardless of his increasing exasperation.Eventually the Sonderführer drew the interview to a close with a warning to keep his mouth shut and not discuss the meeting with anyone else, before he was finally left in peace. He had no idea of the significance of the interview at the time. ‘But do they really place that much reliance on the state of a man’s marriage?’
‘Yes, they do’. Mannfred explained. ‘It seems hard to understand, but Himmler has some crazy ideas about how the correct National Socialist behaves, especially when it comes to women and marriage. Divorcing a dishonorable wife is seen as a mark of outstanding National Socialist behaviour. That, coupled with Wilhelm’s disinformation, was more than enough to convince them that I was a loyal National Socialist, despite my Wehrmacht background.’
‘So you see the reason for the deception,’ Canaris continued. ‘The divorce established your father’s reputation as a model National Socialist. And the disinformation I provided threw the SD off the scent. Shortly afterwards I arranged for your father to be transferred into the Home Army. It was another ploy to keep our enemies unbalanced. The Abwehr was coming increasingly under suspicion and I felt it best to get your father out of the limelight, so to speak. He could carry on his work, the real work, quietly and in a safer environment. Later on, I went to see your mother and Katrin in Lausanne. My role as head of the Abwehr allowed me to travel abroad without restriction. And I explained to them why the deception was necessary. They understood immediately, even though it was hard for them to accept. And despite the separation they send all their love and hope that one day you’ll all be reunited’.
Simon abruptly sat down again. He wasn’t sure what to believe, anymore. For the last three years he’d wrapped himself up in his own grief, seeking refuge in the arms of Klarissa whenever he could. And now she had been taken away from him. He suddenly began to appreciate some of the sacrifices the older man had made.
He turned to his father. ‘Do you have any letters?’
‘Yes. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out two envelopes. ‘Normally I don’t carry these around with me, in case I get stopped and searched. But I took the risk tonight. I thought you might want to see these’. He passed them over to
his son.
Simon slowly read them through, savouring the words of love and encouragement. He thought he could detect a lingering trace of his mother’s perfume on the writing paper. He looked back at his father. ‘Father, I owe you an apology. I-‘
‘No, Max, you weren’t to know. I can’t blame you for reacting the way you did. And I’m desperately sad for you, and what happened to Klarissa. I…’ His voice, thick and choked with emotion, failed him. He sat with his head bowed, tears trickling down his face. Simon got up and walked over to where his father sat, knelt down and put an arm across his shoulders.
Canaris turned away, leaving the other two a moment of privacy. He walked over to the far end of the conservatory, and busied himself by taking an exaggeratedly long time closing the blinds. It was almost completely black outside, and it would not be safe to draw attention to themselves by flouting the black-out regulations. By the time he returned, father and son had sorted themselves out. Both looked sheepish and embarrassed by their display of emotions. Canaris deliberately avoided looking at them too closely.
‘I think now’s a good time to have that drink.’ He opened the bottle of Armagnac and poured a generous measure for each of them. ‘At the risk of being repetitive, this is the same toast I made earlier this evening: here’s to our friends and families, all our loved ones, and to a better future.’ The toast was echoed, crystal clinking together as they raised their glasses and drank a measure.
They sat down again. Nobody spoke for a while, each man content to wait in the silence of his own thoughts. Simon reflected on the events of the last twelve hours. It had been a tumultuous day. First there was the visit to his wrecked house and saying goodbye to his brief memories of a married life. Next came his meeting with the wily old Admiral. Now there was the certainty of a reconciliation with his father and the knowledge that his mother and sister were safe and well. It was almost too much to take in. He hoped there were no more surprises. But there was one more question that remained unanswered. He turned to the Admiral.
London Calling Page 4
