by Ken Follett
this war.
It was Rundstedt who had first called Hitler 'the Bohemian corporal'.
The little man knew nothing of the German military tradition, nor
despite his flashes of inspiration of military strategy. If he had, he
would not have started this war, for it was unwinnable. Rundstedt was
Germany's finest soldier, and he had proved it in Poland, France and
Russia; but he had no hope of victory.
All the same, he would have nothing to do with the small group of
generals who he knew were plotting to overthrow Hitler. He turned a
blind eye to them, but the Fahneneid, the blood oath of the German
warrior, was too strong within him to permit him to join the
conspiracy. And that, he supposed, was why he continued to serve the
Reich. Right or wrong, his country was in danger, and he had no option
but to protect it. I'm like an old cavalry horse, he thought: if I
stayed at home I should feel ashamed.
He commanded five armies on the Western front, now. Amillion and a
half men were under him. They were not as strong as they might be some
divisions were little better than rest homes for invalids from the
Russian front, there was a shortage of armour, and there were many
non-German conscripts among the other ranks but Rundstedt could still
keep the Allies out of France if he deployed his forces shrewdly.
It was that deployment that he must now discuss with Hitler.
The car climbed the Kehlsteinstrasse until the road ended at a vast
bronze door in the side of the Kehlstein Mountain. An SS guard touched
a button, the door hummed open, and the car entered a long marble
tunnel lit by bronze lanterns. At the far end of the tunnel the driver
stopped the car, and Rundstedt walked to the elevator and sat in one of
its leather seats for the four-hundred-foot ascent to the Adlerhorst,
the Eagle's Nest.
In the anteroom Rattenhuber took his pistol and left him to wait. He
stared un appreciatively at Hitler's porcelain and went over in his
mind the words he would say.
A few moments later the blond bodyguard returned to usher him into the
conference room.
The place made him think of an eighteenth-century palace. The walls
were covered with oil paintings and tapestries, and there was a bust of
Wagner and a huge clock with a bronze eagle on its top. The view from
the side window was truly remarkable: one could see the hills of
Salzburg and the peak of the Untersberg, the mountain where the body of
the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa waited, according to legend, to rise
from the grave and save the Fatherland. Inside the room, seated in the
peculiarly rustic chairs, were Hitler and just three of his staff:
Admiral Theodor Krancke, the naval commander in the west; General
Alfred Jodl, chief of staff; and Admiral Karl Jesko von Puttkamer,
Hitler's aide-decamp.
Rundstedt saluted and was motioned to a chair. A footman brought a
plate of caviar sandwiches and a glass of champagne. Hitler stood at
the large window, looking out, with his hands clasped behind his back.
Without turning, he said abruptly "Rundstedt has changed his mind. He
now agrees with Rommel that the Allies will invade Normandy. This is
what my instinct has all along told me. Krancke, however, still
favours Calais. Rundstedt, tell Krancke how you arrived at your
conclusion."
Rundstedt swallowed a mouthful and coughed into his hand. Damn, Hitler
had no manners: didn't even give a chap a chance to catch his breath.
"There are two things: one new piece of information and one new line of
reasoning," Rundstedt began.
"First, the information. The latest summaries of Allied bombing in
France show without doubt that their principal aim is to destroy every
bridge across the river Seine. Now, if they land at Calais the Seine
is irrelevant to the battle; but if they land in Normandy all our
reserves have to cross the Seine to reach the zone of conflict.
"Second, the reasoning. I have given some thought to how I would
invade France if I were commanding the Allied forces. My conclusion is
that the first goal must be to establish a bridgehead through which men
and supplies can be funnelled at speed. The initial thrust must
therefore come in the region of a large and roomy harbour. The natural
choice is Cherbourg.
"Both the bombing pattern and the strategic requirements point to
Normandy," he finished. He picked up his glass and emptied it, and the
footman came forward to refill it.
Jodl said: "All our intelligence points to Calais ' "And we have just
executed the head of the Abwehr as a traitor," Hitler interrupted.
"Krancke, are you convinced?"
"My Fuhrer, I am not," the Admiral said.
"I, too, have considered how I would conduct the invasion if I were on
the other side but I have brought into the reasoning a number of
factors of a nautical nature of which Rundstedt may not have been
aware. I believe they will attack under cover of darkness, by
moonlight, at full tide to sail over Rommel's underwater obstacles, and
away from cliffs, rocky waters and strong currents. Normandy?
Never."
Hitler shook his head in disgusted disagreement. Jodl said: "There is
another small piece of information which I find significant. The
Guards Armoured Division has been transferred from the north of
England to Hove, on the south-east coast, to join the First United
States Army Group under General Patton. We learned this from wireless
surveillance -there was a baggage mix-up en route, one unit had
another's silver cutlery, and the fools have been quarrelling about it
over the radio. This is a crack British division, very blue-blooded,
commanded by General Sir Allan Henry Shafto Adair. I feel sure they
will not be far from the centre of the battle when it comes."
Hitler's hands moved nervously, and his face twitched in an agony of
indecision.
"Generals!" he barked at them.
"Either I get conflicting advice, or no advice at all! I have to tell
you everything everything!"
With characteristic boldness, Rundstedt plunged on.
"My Fuhrer, you have four superb panzer divisions doing nothing here in
Germany. If I am right, they will never get to Normandy in time to
repel the invasion. I beg you, order them to France and put them under
Rommel's command. If we are wrong, and the invasion begins at Calais,
they will still be close enough to enter the battle at an early
stage."
"I don't know I don't know!" Hitler's eyes widened, and Rundstedt
wondered if he had pushed too hard again.
Puttkamer spoke for the first time.
"My Fuhrer, today is Sunday."
Well?"
"Tomorrow night the U-boat may pick up the spy, Die Nadel."
"Ah, yes! Someone I can trust."
"Of course, he can report by radio at any time. However, there may be
some reason for him to avoid the radio; in which case he would bring
his information personally. Given this possibility, you may like to
consider postponing your decision for twenty-four hours, in cas
e he
does contact us, one way or the other, today or tomorrow."
Rundstedt said: "There isn't time to postpone decisions. Both air
attacks and sabotage activities have increased dramatically. The
invasion may come any day."
"I disagree," Krancke said.
"The weather conditions will not be right until early June."
"That is not very far away!"
"Enough!" Hitler shouted.
"I have made up my mind. My panzers stay in Germany for now. On
Tuesday, when we have heard from Die Nadel, I will reconsider the
disposition of these forces. If his information favours Normandy as I
believe it will I will move the panzers."
Rundstedt said softly: "And if he does not report?"
"If he does not report, I shall reconsider just the same."
Rundstedt bowed assent.
"With your permission, I shall return to my command."
"Very well."
Rundstedt got to his feet, saluted and went out. In the copper-lined
elevator, falling four hundred feet to the underground garage, he felt
his stomach turn over, and wondered whether the sensation was caused by
the speed of descent or by the thought that the destiny of his country
lay in the hands of a single, lonely spy.
PART SIX
THIRTY-ONE
Lucy woke up slowly. She rose gradually, languidly, from the warm void
of deep sleep, up through layers of unconsciousness, perceiving the
world piece by isolated piece: first the warm, hard male body beside
her; then the strangeness of the little bed; the noise of the storm
outside, as angry and tireless as yesterday and the day before; the
faint smell of the man's skin; her arm across his chest, her leg thrown
across his as if to keep him there, her breasts pressed against his
side; the light of day beating against her eyelids; the regular, light
breathing that blew softly across her face; and then, all at once like
the solution to a puzzle, the realization that she was flagrantly and
adulterously lying with a man she had met only forty-eight hours
before, and that they were naked in bed in her husband's house.
She opened her eyes and saw Jo.
He was standing beside the bed in his rumpled pyjamas, hair tousled, a
battered rag doll under his arm, sucking his thumb and staring
wide-eyed at his mummy and the strange man cuddling each other in his,
Jo's, bed. Lucy could not read his expression, for at this time of day
he stared wide-eyed at most things, as if all the world was new and
marvelous every morning. She stared back at him in silence, not
knowing what to say.
Then Henry's deep voice said: "Good morning."
Jo took his thumb out of his mouth, said: "Good morning," turned around
and went out of the bedroom.
Lucy said: "Damn, damn, damn."
Henry slid down in the bed until his face was level with hers, and
kissed her. His hand went between her thighs and held her
possessively.
She pushed him away.
"For God's sake, stop." Why?"
"Jo's seen us!"
"So what?"
lie can talk, you know. Sooner or later he'll say something to David.
What am I going to do ?"
"Do nothing. So David finds out. Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters."
"I don't see why. He has wronged you, and this is the consequence. You
shouldn't feel guilty."
Lucy suddenly realized that Henry simply had no conception of the
complex tangle of loyalties and obligations that constituted a
marriage. She said: "It's not that simple."
She got out of bed and crossed the landing to her own bedroom. She
slipped into knickers, trousers and a sweater, then remembered she had
destroyed all Henry's clothes and had to lend him some of David's. She
found underwear and socks, a knitted shirt and a V-necked pullover, and
finally right at the bottom of a trunk one pair of trousers that were
not cut off at the knee and sewn up. All the while Jo watched her in
silence.
She took the clothes into the other bedroom. Henry had gone into the
bathroom to shave. She called through the door: "Your clothes are on
the bed."
She went downstairs, lit the stove in the kitchen, and put a saucepan
of water on to heat. She decided to have boiled eggs for breakfast.
She washed Jo's face at the kitchen sink, combed his hair, and dressed
him quickly.
"You're very quiet this morning," she said brightly. He made no
reply.
Henry came down and sat at the table, as naturally as if he had been
doing it every morning for years. Lucy felt very weird, seeing him
there in David's clothes, handing him a breakfast egg, putting a rack
of toast on the table in front of him.
Jo said suddenly: "Is my daddy dead?" Henry gave the boy a queer look
and said nothing. Lucy said: "Don't be silly. He's at Tom's house."
Jo ignored her and spoke to Henry.
"You've got my daddy's clothes, and you've got my mummy. Are you going
to be my daddy now?"
Lucy muttered: "Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings ..."
Henry said: "Didn't you see my clothes last night?"
Jo nodded.
Well, then, you know why I had to borrow some of your daddy's clothes.
I'll give them back to him when I get some more of my own."
"Will you give my mummy back?"
"Of course."
Lucy said: "Eat your egg, Jo."
The child tucked into his breakfast, apparently satisfied. Lucy was
gazing out of the kitchen window.
"The boat won't come today," she said.
"Are you glad?" Henry asked her.
She looked at him.
"I don't know."
Lucy did not feel hungry. She drank a cup of tea while Jo and Henry
ate. Afterwards, Jo went upstairs to play and Henry cleared the table.
As he stacked crockery in the sink he said: "Are you afraid David will
hurt you, physically?"
She shook her head in negation.
"You should forget him," Henry went on.
"You were planning to leave him anyway. Why should it concern you
whether he finds out or not?"
"He's my husband' she said.
"That counts for something. The kind of husband he's been ... all that
... doesn't give me the right to humiliate him."
"I think it gives you the right not to care whether he's humiliated or
not."
"It's not a question that can be settled logically. It's just the way
I feel."
He made a giving-up gesture with his arms.
"I'd better drive over to Tom's and find out whether your husband wants
to come back. Where are my boots?"
"In the living-room. I'll get you a jacket." She went upstairs and
got David's old hacking jacket out of the wardrobe. It was a fine
grey-green tweed, very elegant with a nipped-in waist and slanted
pocket flaps. Lucy had put leather patches on the elbows to preserve
it: you couldn't buy clothes like this any more. She took it down to
the living-room, where Henrywas putting his boots on. He had laced
the left one, and was gingerly inserting his injured right foot into
the other. Lucy knelt to hel
p him.
"The swelling has gone down," she said.
"The damn thing still hurts."
They got the boot on, but left it untied and took the lace out. Henry
stood up experimentally.
"It's okay," he said.
Lucy helped him into the jacket. It was a little tight across the
shoulders.
"We haven't got another oilskin," she said.
"Then I'll get wet." He pulled her to him and kissed her roughly. She
put her arms around him and held tightly for a moment.
"Drive more carefully today," she said.
He smiled and nodded, kissed her again briefly this time and went out.
She watched him limp across to the barn, and stood at the window while
he started the jeep and drove away, up the slight rise and out of
sight. When he had gone she felt relieved, but somehow empty.
She began to put the house straight, making beds and washing dishes,
cleaning and tidying; but she could summon up no enthusiasm for the
task. She was restless. She worried at the problem of what to do with
