Jan

by Peter Haden

  ‘I didn’t know Dinks was married,’ he said casually.

  ‘He wasn’t then,’ she said, indicating that she knew Jan’s history as she flicked expertly through the gears and cleared the suburbs. ‘But he is now! And by the way, he told me to ask you what type of aircraft was it in which you last flew together?’

  ‘A Swedish registered Lysander,’ said Jan with a smile. She reached inside her tailored jacked and produced a small revolver. ‘In which case,’ she said with a quick smile to her right, ‘you can put that in the glove box. I won’t be needing it, and it’s bloody uncomfortable tucked into my skirt!’

  The car was waved through the embassy gates and they were shown to Dinks’ office. Jan gave the so-called second secretary a more detailed account of his time in Poland and their subsequent escape. Dinks made a few notes and asked questions – mostly directed at Tadzio and Hedda. Jan translated.

  ‘I’m going to send a message to London,’ he said at the end. ‘There’s nothing more I can do till they reply.’

  ‘So, what do we do in the meantime?’ asked Jan.

  ‘Well, you can’t stay in the flat like last time,’ Dinks replied with a friendly laugh. ‘For a start, there are too many of you, and second, I don’t think Mrs Dinks would be too pleased!’

  ‘Congratulations on your marriage,’ said Jan quickly, remembering his manners. ‘She is a lovely lady.’

  ‘We met in the line of duty, as it were,’ Dinks offered, ‘although I had better not tell you what she does for a living. But believe me, you were in safe hands. These days the Germans follow me every time I leave the embassy, which is why I asked Mikaela to pick you up. She often drives my car. Her people agreed to the request without asking questions, and she knows how to make sure there was no tail.’

  ‘So, Mikaela is Swedish?’ Jan asked.

  ‘She is,’ came the reply. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife dearly, but the fact of life is that it makes for a useful two-way exchange of information within our host country – and one that the Germans don’t know about.

  ‘Which brings us back to what we are going to do with you,’ Dinks went on. We have a couple of safe houses not too far away, and we’ll put you in one of those. It’s well stocked with pretty much anything you might need, and I’m authorised to give you some kronor in case you want to take a walk and perhaps have a coffee or a beer. But same rules as last time, Jan – best you just point, but if you have to say anything use German or English but on no account Polish.’

  That evening Mikaela drove them in her own car, a rather smart Ford, to a small, terraced house in a quiet, leafy suburb of Stockholm. Before they left the embassy, Dinks told them that he hoped to have news within two or three days.

  He was as good as his word. ‘London has agreed to your travel,’ he told them at the safe house. ‘This time we don’t want to risk a Swedish vessel – it’s ever more difficult for them to leave the Baltic these days, if not impossible. Instead, you will be taken to the UK on board an American flagged freighter. The Germans won’t stop her – they wouldn’t risk doing anything that might alienate the U.S.A. and tempt them into the war. Once near British waters, the ship won’t dock. You will disembark somewhere off the coast of Scotland and you should be in London twenty-four hours later. At some stage, expect to be questioned in some detail,’ he told Tadzio and Hedda, ‘but frankly my people don’t expect any complications.’

  Chapter 24

  Dinks stopped his car at the entrance to the port. As he wound down the window, the guard made a show of looking inside, then opened the gate and waved them through.

  ‘That was easy enough,’ Jan remarked. It seemed only yesterday when he had arrived on the Swedish freighter.

  ‘He claims to be pro-British, plus he has expensive tastes,’ Dinks told them laconically, ‘that can’t be satisfied on a security guard’s pay. Our arrangement works both ways.’ He did not offer any further explanation.

  The car edged slowly along the dock till it stopped at the bottom of a gangplank leading up into the hull of a good sized cargo vessel. Carrying small cases containing a few clothes and toiletries provided by Mikaela and Dinks, they followed him on board till they were met at the top by a rather young-looking officer in the dark blue livery of his shipping line. ‘Welcome aboard the Memphis Pearl,’ he drawled, saluting then offering his hand to each in turn. ‘Earl FitzHoward Junior. Call me Earl or Junior – either’s fine. And good to see y’all – you again, Dinks,’ he added. A white jacketed steward hovered in the background. ‘Benson here will show the lady and gentlemen to their cabins. Dinks, come with me, if you will, and we’ll take a drink in mine. Fortunately, we’re not the U.S. of A. Navy,’ his grin embraced them all, ‘so we don’t sail dry.’

  At the stern of the ship, main deck level, were a number of cabins. Benson showed Hedda and Tadzio to a double, with vertical bunk beds, whilst Jan was offered a spacious single. Both had an en-suite head. ‘This is very pleasant,’ Jan said easily to the steward.

  ‘The Pearl Line vessels all have guest accommodation, Sir,’ he replied. ‘We are primarily freighters, but often take paying passengers who enjoy a voyage at much less than the cost of a conventional liner. I trust you will enjoy a pleasant passage.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We sail at six, Sir, and I shall collect you at a quarter to eight for dinner. We do not dress – on the Pearl Line we dine well but not formally. In the meantime, there is a bell over there –’ he indicated a brass fitting next to the bunk, ‘so should you require my assistance you have only to ring. You might kindly mention this to your colleagues. They have the same facility.’

  With just the faintest nod of his head Benson left the cabin. Dinks returned a few minutes later and all four of them convened next door. ‘You’re absolutely safe now,’ he told them, ‘Earl has been briefed on all that he needs to know and he’s quite happy, so just enjoy the trip.’

  ‘This is rather more than I was expecting,’ Hedda told him in German.

  ‘I hope you have a pleasant few days,’ Dinks replied in the same language, his proficiency surprising Jan. ‘We know you have all had a hard time of it over the winter, so hopefully this will come as a small reward with the compliments of His Majesty’s grateful government. And the food should be good – things won’t be quite the same once you are back in wartime Britain!’ With that he shook hands with Jan and Tadzio, made Hedda blush with a kiss on both cheeks, and waved goodbye. Shortly afterwards a quiet vibration underfoot suggested that they were about to be underway.

  Dinner was not in a wardroom but a spacious dining area adjacent to the captain’s cabin. They were the only guests. In response to a query from Jan, Earl explained that when they had official “government guests” as he called them, they did not take other passengers.

  ‘Captain Earl, this must be costing a fortune,’ observed Jan.

  ‘Please explain and translate to Tadzio and Hedda for me,’ Earl replied, ‘because I don’t speak Polish. The owner of this line is second generation American,’ he went on, ‘but the founder, his grandfather, came from Scotland. My country is neutral, but some of us help out the old country a bit more than others. And money doesn’t even come into it.

  ‘Now,’ he said, as soon as Jan had translated, ‘what will you have to drink before dinner?’ Benson appeared as if on cue to take station next to a well covered sideboard. Sensing Hedda’s uncertainty, Earl suggested they open a bottle of white wine.

  ‘You seem young to be the captain of such a fine ship,’ she said, having taken her first sip.

  ‘Aw, you got short-changed,’ Earl replied with a grin. ‘The captain was taken ill soon after we arrived. Normally we would have waited till he came out of hospital, but because of the uncertainty in Europe the owners cabled to sail soonest. So, we’re in ballast. I’m only the first officer really. But not to worry,’ he added with a laugh, ‘I think I can find my way home.’


  Dinner was a revelation to all three passengers. A creamy soup made from fresh tomatoes was followed by a dish of huge prawns in an oriental sauce of fresh ginger, soy and garlic. ‘One of our cooks is ’Frisco Chinese,’ Earl told them. ‘His chow is something of a favourite with the crew.’

  But the main course surpassed anything they had eaten before. They were each served a huge rib-eye steak with what Earl referred to as a “side order” of French fries and a bowl of salad. There was a sauce with the steaks that tasted of red wine, cream and brandy. Hedda had never eaten meat so tasty, tender and succulent, she informed him.

  ‘Ma’am, we invented fast freezing back in the twenties,’ he replied, ‘so these steaks came over in our on-board freezer and were defrosted today. The salad and vegetables we bought in Sweden.’ Finally, the chef had prepared apple pie and ice cream, with cheeses and fruit to follow. Earl offered them all a glass of port or Madeira, although Jan noticed that their host consumed only one glass of red wine. ‘Please excuse me for a few minutes whilst I visit the bridge,’ he told them rising from the table. ‘Be back soon, although I have to stand a watch later. But in the meantime, please ask Benson for anything you might need.’

  ‘That was absolutely fantastic,’ said Hedda, setting down her napkin. Again, Jan translated.

  ‘The Pearl line is perhaps noted for its cuisine,’ their steward observed softly. ‘Captain FitzHoward is determined to follow the family tradition.’

  ‘The family tradition?’ queried Jan.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ came the reply. ‘He would be too modest to mention it, but this line has been owned by the FitzHoward family for several generations. Captain Earl is a fine officer, and is shortly to take command of his own vessel anyway. He is more than capable of taking your good selves back to the United Kingdom, and the rest of us on to the United States.’ He paused. ‘If you have all that you require, and you are happy to make your own way aft to your cabins, I will leave you now, lady and gentlemen.’

  ‘We’ll enjoy our nightcap and wait for the captain,’ Jan told him, ‘but thank you, I don’t think any of us could manage another thing.’

  Back in their cabin, Hedda eyed the sleeping arrangements. ‘I’m tired and full to bursting,’ she told Tadzio. ‘So, they’ll do for now. But we might have to be a bit snug in just my bunk tomorrow morning.’

  At breakfast on their third day at sea, Earl announced that they were off the northwest coast of Scotland and would rendezvous with a Royal Navy vessel later that morning. Hedda confessed that she had grown accustomed to waffles and maple syrup, bacon, eggs, hash browns and fresh-baked rolls. Earl grinned appreciatively and gave each of them his card. ‘You have my office and home contact details there,’ he told them. ‘Any time you think there is something we can do for you, just call.’

  Later that morning Jan thanked him profusely for their passage before they descended a pilot ladder into a blue-ensigned motor torpedo boat. They docked in northwest Scotland and just made the overnight sleeper to London. By midday, travel-weary, grubby and almost exhausted, they were shown into Bill Ives’ office. Doreen Jackman was already there.

  ‘Welcome to England,’ he greeted Hedda and Tadzio. ‘And thank God you are all safe.’ Jan translated. ‘Full debrief in the morning,’ the colonel went on. For now, we’ll take you to a safe house and let you rest overnight.’

  Dinner, their first meal since that morning, was something of a contrast. The housekeeper served a thin brown soup followed by a vegetable pie. London, it might have been: the Memphis Pearl, it certainly wasn’t. ‘We should have stayed on board,’ Tadzio observed dryly, setting down his knife and fork.

  Next morning, they were taken to separate rooms to be debriefed. Hedda’s interrogator spoke excellent German, but Tadzio, in an adjacent room, spoke through an interpreter. Jan’s interviewer was Colonel Ives, but they were joined by another civilian who hoped that Jan would not mind if he did not give his name. But, he confided, he had the ear of the First Lord of the Admiralty and many expected that Mr Churchill might soon become Prime Minister. His visitor was acutely interested in the activities and morale of the German Army in Poland and the plight of the local population. He enquired in great detail about the resistance movement and the extent to which they were able to interdict the German lines of communication. Jan gave both men as much detail as he could, not forgetting to mention the need to supply arms and other matériel to the resistance by whatever means could be established. Importantly, he was able to confirm that the new “fist” operating the transmitter was genuine.

  It was almost lunchtime before they were finished. His visitor thanked Jan profusely for what he had achieved and also for the invaluable first-hand evidence he had been able to provide. Once they were alone, Jan asked Bill Ives what would happen next.

  ‘For you, personally?’ the Colonel asked.

  ‘For all of us,’ Jan replied. ‘Me, my brother and Hedda. I will translate for them later.’

  ‘First,’ came the reply, ‘I want you all to have another night of relaxation. One of my staff will make a reservation at a restaurant not far from your safe house. Then we’ll leave the three of you to make your own way home. Come back in the morning, all of you. About ten-ish, if that’s all right?’

  Jan confirmed that it was.

  ‘Fine,’ the colonel thanked him. ‘That will give us time to go over the results of the debriefing. I don’t want to say too much before tomorrow, but we have a position in mind for Hedda, not to mention a few options for Tadzio.’

  ‘And me?’ Jan responded.

  ‘I shall be able to confirm things in the morning,’ the colonel said guardedly, ‘but I think we are going to ask you to undertake another mission. Let’s leave it at that for now, please. And by the way, you have a considerable amount of back pay in an account with Coutts’ Bank that has been opened in your name, but I am authorised to give you an additional sum that will cover any reasonable expenses for the next few days.’

  They sort of enjoyed what Hedda pronounced to be something of a plain meal in a rather ordinary restaurant, but the adventure of the night – for Hedda and Tadzio – was to call in at a local public house on the way home. Jan chose a corner table where they could speak softly in their own language, although at the end of the day he did not think that being a Polish-speaking member of the British armed forces would be a problem. In an atmosphere thick with smoke, and accompanied by an out of tune piano, they drank English beer, two of them for the first time, that both Tadzio and Hedda pronounced initially to be disgusting. But it didn’t stop them finishing their pint, Jan noticed, and then accepting another. Finally, arm-in-arm, they made their way back to the safe house.

  Their meeting next morning was with both Bill Ives and Doreen Jackman. ‘We have discussed all three of you at great length,’ he told them. ‘You have unique experience and abilities. So what I am going to suggest is a request only. If you do not wish to accept our recommendation, we will try to come up with another solution that would be mutually agreeable.’ Jan translated.

  ‘Tadzio,’ Bill Ives turned to face the young Pole. ‘Let’s start with you. You mentioned yesterday that you would be willing to volunteer for the armed forces. We would like you to attend a short course so that you can learn English, then we want you to volunteer for one of the embryo Polish military units that are being established in England. We can go into detail later, but in view of your background, we are probably thinking infantry, or maybe armoured corps. How does that sound?’

  Through Jan, Tadzio replied that in principle it sounded fine, but he and Hedda wanted to marry, so they needed to know what would happen to her and if they would still be able to see each other from time to time.

  ‘Hedda,’ Doreen Jackman began, and again Jan translated. ‘Because of your language skills, we want you to work with one of our intelligence services. The less I say at this stage the better, but you wou
ld be based not too far away, north-west of London. We will arrange billeted civilian accommodation and when he has leave Tadzio can stay there too. How does that sound?’

  Hedda thought for a few seconds, then nodded her acceptance.

  ‘All right,’ resumed Bill Ives. ‘Tadzio and Hedda, tomorrow you go your separate ways. Doreen will set up postal addresses and contact telephone numbers so that you can stay in touch both with us and with each other. But for now, just enjoy the spring weather. For once, it’s a sunny day in London. Do you have enough funds left over to see you through?’

  Having translated all that, Jan confirmed that they had, and arranged to meet them later back at the safe house. ‘Well now,’ said Bill Ives, once the other two had left, ‘we want you to volunteer for another mission.’

  Doreen Jackman took over. ‘Because of your recent history, Jan, you may be uniquely well placed to help us in an area where we are desperately short of assets.’ Having assumed originally that she was the colonel’s junior, Jan began to wonder whether it might not be the other way round – that she might be considerably higher up in the government pecking order than he had at first suspected.

  ‘We have every reason to believe,’ she went on, ‘that now he has conquered half of Poland in the East, Herr Hitler is poised to invade the West. Intelligence is vital,’ she continued, ‘but beyond the French, Belgian and Dutch borders we have hardly any people on the ground. And virtually none that are able to report back to us independently. And that said,’ she paused for emphasis, ‘at this stage it would be extremely difficult to insert someone able to fit in locally unless they had at least a measure of support. Some sort of base in the area, if you like.’

  It began to dawn on Jan what he was about to be asked to do. ‘You think...’ he hesitated, ‘that I have this – what would you call it – this facility?’

  ‘Renate Raschdorf,’ she said bluntly. ‘You have a long and deep affiliation with the family, she probably owes her life to the fact that you smuggled her to safety right across Germany, she is half Jewish, and after the threats made not just to her but also to her family, we believe she must have absolutely no love for Hitler and his Nazi Party.’ Her hands turned palms uppermost, as if in a gesture of honesty. ‘To what extent she might help you, we don’t know,’ she admitted, ‘but we think that in all probability, she would. And from what you have told us, even if not, there is no way she would ever betray you.’