Book Read Free

Storm Island

Page 35

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

 

‹ Prev