Uncommon Enemy

by Reynolds, John

  “Er, yes. My apologies, Mr. Schroeder. I appear to have been, er, misinformed. There was, of course, no question of desertions.”

  “Let me, on this matter, be very clear,” Schroeder continued. “The New Order government is for the good of all the people of this country.”

  Tom’s reply, although overly sycophantic to Stuart’s ears, was designed to please the German. “We agree, Mr. Schroeder. Milk and wool prices have never been better.”

  “And we greatly appreciate the assistance provided by government agricultural agents,” added Jason, echoing the obsequious tone.

  “Ach, that is good. Our government values the work of the farming peasants.” Hamish coughed.

  “The two subversives, Mr. Schroeder.” He was clearly concerned to maintain the focus on Stuart and Carol. “They are considered ruthless and will stop at nothing to achieve their ends. It is crucial that they are both captured and brought in for special questioning.”

  “Of course,” responded Wallace. “Mr. Beavis, through his personal knowledge and recent association with the university, has been assigned to us to assist in the hunting down of these two subversives.

  “I have met one of these people,” said Schroeder. “With him I have, how do you say it in English, some unfinished business.” He gave a grunt of mild amusement and then continued. “You said that you have not seen them. You say that you support the New Order government. That is good.” His voice took on a harsher tone. “You will remember please, that giving help to enemies of the state is punishable by death. Please tell your neighbours of this. Soldiers and a German officer have been murdered.” A chair was scraped back and fell clattering to the ground. “Those who spread terror will be punished!”

  Immediately other chairs were pushed back and followed by a shuffling of feet.

  Schroeder spoke again. “We are visiting other houses tonight. These enemies of the state will be found. Tell your neighbours that no stone, er-----.”

  “Will be left unturned, Mr. Schroeder?” It was the detective’s voice.

  “Ja. No stone. Tell your neighbours.” Another pause and a heel click. “We will take our leave.”

  Stuart and Carol lay still, their thoughts in turmoil at the implications of what they had heard. They listened intently to the sounds of departure and, after a brief silence the outside door opened and closed. A pair of footsteps came into the room and stopped.

  “Stuart and Carol” said Tom softly, “If you can hear me tap twice.”

  Startled at hearing their real names used, Stuart momentarily paused and then tapped.

  “OK. We think they’ve gone but there’s always the possibility that they’ve left men behind to watch the place. I’ve turned the dogs loose and we’ll let them roam for a while. If there are any strangers around the property they’ll let us know. I’ll then whistle them back and if they arrive in one piece we’ll be pretty sure everything’ll be OK. Can you hang on a little longer?”

  Stuart tapped again.

  “Good. It’s probably OK for the two of you to talk quietly. If there’s any sign of danger we’ll let you know immediately.”

  Chapter 33

  The next hour passed slowly as Stuart and Carol, their faces close together, quietly reviewed the events in the room below. Their greatest concern was the speed with which the authorities had picked up their trail, the direct involvement of Franz Schroeder and, more particularly, Hamish Beavis. Clearly, from his tone Beavis was motivated by anger and revenge which dovetailed neatly into the importance that his superiors attached to apprehending those involved in the Albany killing. They were both also worried about the attitude of their new colleagues, who could well regard the presence of two identified ‘terrorists’ as too much of a liability - in which case their situation looked very bleak. The authorities now had copies of their pictures; their families had already been contacted, had probably been intimidated and were almost certainly now under surveillance. The familiar and secure links of friends, families and work had disappeared. They’d taken the only option open to them and now faced the unimaginably bleak prospect of becoming pariahs, shunned, feared and hunted in their own land.

  Below they could hear the movements of people coming and going but apart from the occasional innocuous comment, nothing of any importance was discussed within their hearing. Their sense of gnawing despair increased.

  Eventually several pairs of footsteps entered the bedroom and stopped in the centre. The ceiling trapdoor was opened and the ladder lowered.

  It was Dan’s voice that said, “You can come down now.”

  Cautiously Stuart stretched out his legs and, when his feet touched the rungs, slowly began to descend. Halfway down he stopped and looked into the room. The faces that stared up at him were expressionless.

  “It’s OK, Carol,” he said quietly and completing his descent, watched as she climbed down into the room.

  “How’re you feeling?” asked Dan, his face expressionless.

  “Bit stiff, bit worried,” replied Carol, looking quickly at Stuart who reached out and took her hand.

  “Yeah, I bet,” said Dan tonelessly. “There’s a meeting over at the woolshed. We’ve got some things to discuss.”

  He indicated that they were both to go in front of the others. Apprehensively they walked out of the door into the dark yard and headed towards the woolshed.

  Four men remained in the farmhouse in case of emergency. The rest were gathered in the woolshed, some on seats, others on the floor and several were perched on wool bales. The inability of the naked light bulbs to reach all the faces created an ominous atmosphere. This was further reinforced by the subdued responses to Stuart and Carol’s greeting.

  “Sit here,” said Dan, indicating two chairs in the centre of the room.

  They sat facing the group. Stuart resisted the temptation to make some wisecrack about kangaroo courts, and tried instead to read the faces that surrounded them.

  Dan sat at right angles to them, his elbows resting on the large wool-sorting table.

  “I presume you both heard all of the conversation that took place in the dining room.”

  They nodded.

  “I presume you are aware of the increased seriousness of the situation.”

  They nodded again.

  “We have all been discussing its implications. We knew that when we began a resistance movement we would be facing some serious problems. This current situation has developed more rapidly, and is certainly more serious, than we had imagined.”

  He paused and looked around. A few heads nodded but nobody spoke.

  “Although our rule is not to reveal our real identities to each other in case of future interrogations, in your case the authorities have done it for us. Both of you are now classified as terrorists. We have heard your names mentioned on the radio news an hour ago. Schroeder, Beavis and Wallace had photos of both of you so I daresay they’ll be in tomorrow’s newspaper.”

  Stuart’s eyes swept the room. “Obviously we hadn’t expected this. And for them to say that we spread terror is ridiculous.”

  “Yes,” joined in Carol. “We’ve harmed nobody.”

  “It’s a political label, nothing more, nothing less. One group’s ‘freedom fighter’ is another group’s ‘terrorist’,” responded Tony from the back of the woolshed. “Whether or not you’ve done anyone any harm is irrelevant. If you’re labelled as an enemy of the people then that turns people against you and gives the authorities the excuse to deal with you however they please. Reason or logic has nothing to do with it.”

  To a murmur of agreement Dan continued.

  “Nevertheless, the fact that you’re on their wanted list means an increased risk for everyone here. Aiding, abetting or harbouring a terrorist is a capital offence. Anyone in this room could be hanged for it.”

  Carol was clearly close to tears. “Look,” she began falteringly, “we hate the Nazis as much as anyone in this room. We joined Fightback because it gave us a chance to,
well, fight back.” She paused but there was no reaction. Her voice steadied. “We had no intention of putting anyone, not one single person, in danger on our account.”

  Stuart, putting his arm across her shoulder, faced the rest of the group.

  “We’re fully aware that we are a danger to all of you. We discussed it while we were left hiding in the ceiling.” He looked at Carol who nodded. “We’ve made a joint decision. People could be killed because of our presence here.” He shrugged and rising to his feet, looked squarely into the faces of those in the front of the group. “Clearly there’s no alternative. We’ll both leave and take our chances. We may get caught but the rest of you will be safe.” He reached down and took Carol’s hand as she rose and stood alongside him. “Right, Carol?”

  “Yes,” she responded. Looking straight at Dan she continued, “As Stuart has said, it’s a joint decision. We’ll leave tonight.”

  The spontaneous burst of applause stunned them both. Brendan immediately stepped out of the shadows and seized Stuart’s hand while Susan hurried forward to embrace Carol.

  “What the hell’s going on?” asked Stuart bewildered at the sudden change of mood.

  “We had a meeting and decided to see what your attitude would be to the change in the situation. We wanted to see if you’d put your friends or yourselves first,” explained Dan.

  “You’ve passed the test, mate,” said a hugely smiling Brendan. “Now we can work out a plan of campaign.” He grinned even wider. “Not that I ever doubted you for a moment of course!”

  Tony was on his feet again. “Members of Fightback are committed to supporting each other in all situations. That’s one of our central tenets. In this case, you’re not the only two who are liabilities…” He paused and pointed to the three former Blitzkrieg Boys. “Obviously the authorities don’t want it known that three of their soldiers deserted. But that doesn’t mean that they will be any less rigorous in their pursuit of the deserters or any more lenient with any who have provided them with aid and comfort. We, my friends, are all compromised. In fact we were the moment each and every one of us decided to oppose the oppressors and their cronies and join Fightback. Now,” he turned to Dan, “it’s been a long night and extra guards have to be posted so I suggest we all turn in and catch up on some richly deserved sleep.”

  Dan nodded. “Second the motion. There’s still plenty of detail to work through but I think we’ve all had quite enough for one day. OK everyone, let’s grab some shuteye.”

  Half an hour later Carol, having taken her turn at the washbasin, returned to the cubicle and slipped into bed beside Stuart. Throughout the twists and turns of the extraordinary day she had been continually conscious of his strength and support and was looking forward to what was fast becoming the best part of the day – sharing a bed with him.

  He was lying on his back and he barely moved as she slid in beside him and rested her head lightly on his chest. Slowly she moved her hand backwards and forwards across his chest but he barely stirred. Enticingly she slid her bare leg across his legs towards his groin. His only response was to sigh. She lay still for a moment deciding whether or not to persevere and within a few moments she had joined her lover in a long deep sleep.

  Chapter 34

  “You two can’t go, and that’s an end to the matter.”

  “Look, Brendan-----.”

  “No, you look, mate, you’re known to the authorities. Your photo and Carol’s have been widely circulated. Even if you want to play the brave soldier boy, how about considering her?”

  “You could be in danger too.”

  “Possibly. But there’s a big manhunt out there and the focus is on you.”

  “Hamish Beavis,” murmured Carol.

  “Exactly. He’s painted the blackest possible picture of both of you in order to gain maximum support for his personal vendetta. If either of you risk going out in public you’d be playing right into his hands.”

  A collective murmur of agreement echoed round the woolshed. The day had ended and, with double sentries posted, a full meeting was under way.

  “OK. OK,” said Dan walking into the centre and holding up his hand. “Your enthusiasm for the cause is commendable, Stuart, but Brendan’s right. If you get captured you could compromise all of us.”

  “I hope you’re not suggesting that I would-----,” began Stuart sharply.

  “I’m not suggesting anything,” Dan interrupted quietly. “Just bear in mind that we’re not dealing with a few grubby thugs. We are dealing with powerful sadistic men who have re-invented the art of extracting information in the most painful and effective way possible.”

  To a murmured undertone of assent, he continued. “Fortunately none of us has had direct experience of their methods. And I don’t wish to put anyone in the position of finding out personally. So, Stuart and Carol are staying here.” Dan turned towards Brendan. “Now,” he continued, “please summarize the information that’s been received and what we plan to do.”

  Brendan, with a quick smile at Susan, joined Dan in the centre.

  “In Nazi Germany a resistance movement emerged about a year after the start of the war among medical students at Munich University. It called itself Die weiße Rose - The White Rose. It developed as a resistance movement against the Nazis’ stifling of individual freedom within Germany and the cruelty that had been inflicted on Jews and people in occupied places like Poland and Russia.”

  “Define ‘resistance movement’,” prompted Dan.

  Brendan nodded. “The information we gleaned during the war was very limited. However, it appears that resistance in this case did not involve acts of violence. The movement’s personnel were however quite successful in the writing and printing of anti-Nazi leaflets which they distributed through the White Rose network that spread quickly throughout parts of Germany.”

  “Which presumably didn’t impress the Nazi government,” added Dan.

  “Absolutely not. The Nazis used their networks of informers to round up the key men and women who were White Rose members. Some of them appear to have been seconded into the armed forces and sent to occupied countries overseas, including New Zealand. Two days ago two of their women,” he glanced at this notes, “a Sophie and a Gretchen, managed to make contact with an Auckland University College cell member.”

  “Could be a trap,” said Susan.

  “True. But it could also provide us with a direct link into the occupying forces network. The University chaps have had a preliminary interview with the women and looked through some literature that they had. However they want a second opinion before proceeding any further.”

  “This is where Brendan comes in,” continued Dan. “His German fluency, the knowledge he gained during the war and his trip to Berlin makes him the ideal person. We’ve arranged a rendezvous with the two White Rose women tomorrow.”

  “Where?” asked Lisa.

  “Probably best that only a few of us know that. All the arrangements have been made. Brendan is to make contact, find out what he can and then report back to us. We’ll then take it from there, if he’s successful.”

  He paused and looked round the silent group.

  “If Stuart and Carol can’t go, then I’ll go with you,” said Susan suddenly.

  “Susan, we’ve already discussed---,” began Brendan.

  “I know there’ll be danger but a hand-holding couple is less likely to attract attention than a lone male.” Seeing he was about to reply she held up her hand. “I’ve done the basic training, and know a little German.”

  She stood up, smiled and coyly tilting her head downwards, minced slowly towards the centre running both her palms down the front of her light floral frock. Stopping directly in front of Brendan she looked up at him from lowered lids.

  “And in any case, if you’re going to meet a couple of golden haired Rhineland frauleins,” she said softly, “you’d better have me there to keep an eye on you.”

  The laughter broke the tension. Bernard
looked at Dan, shrugged his shoulders and spread his arms wide.

  “Guess you can’t argue with that, mate.”

  Chapter 35

  The Friday morning walk around the foreshore between the marine suburbs of Takapuna and Milford was deceptively pleasant. The clear blue of the sky mirrored the shimmering hues of the Waitemata Harbour presided over by conical-shaped Rangitoto Island - a familiar landmark to mariners and Aucklanders.

  In keeping with their role of a young couple enjoying a day at the beach, Brendan was clad in light trousers, an open-necked shirt, battered Panama hat and sunglasses. Susan was wearing a pretty summer frock with a broad-brimmed straw hat secured by a light blue scarf tied under her chin. Although, like all New Zealanders Brendan had spent his boyhood in bare feet, his soles had lost their toughness and he now wore scruffy but serviceable sandshoes. Assured that they would be ‘looked after’ neither was armed.

  The car had dropped them at Hurstmere Road, the main road that followed the coast, and taking the side street that lead to the foreshore, they had begun making their way along the rocky path past various small inlets. Absorbed by their own thoughts, they walked in silence paying scant attention to the beauty of their surroundings. The light breeze played with the folds of Susan’s frock as, entering the Thorne’s Bay inlet, she took Brendan’s hand and walked across the small beach’s warm sand. Reaching the end they clambering back up onto the narrow rocky path and continued to follow its northward contours.

  Susan’s scream suddenly cut through the stillness. Clutching Brendan’s arm she scrambled back from the edge of the path and pressed herself up against the rock wall.

  “Silly girl,” he chuckled, as the wave that had splashed the hem of her frock, hissed away from the base of the path.

  “Sorry,” she smiled wanly, still holding onto his arm. “I’m just a bit tense, that’s all. The giant’s chair’s just around the next corner isn’t it?”