Love is the death of me

by Dick Hardman

  ***

  Herman woke the Oberst at his usual time, bringing coffee and a large container of hot water for washing. Then he pulled back the heavy window drapes. The morning sun streamed in, having replaced the storm. The beautiful and peaceful island of Alderney was back to normal again!

  “Good morning Herr Oberst, do you wish me to wake our guest, Pieter Klein?”

  “Might be a good idea, I have a lot to do today and he will add to that commitment. The sooner we start the better.”

  Herman left to rouse Pieter.

  Helga Bunt was fully awake under the bedding and Herman had just answered the question that had been on her mind since the bathroom encounter. So Pieter Klein was the handsome, muscular dream who had appeared before her in the night. Afterwards, she had slipped back into bed with his picture seared into her mind. She hugged her pillow, as she dreamed of them together in the bed.

  After Pieter had vanished from the bathroom, he slipped back into his cold bed. His training as a spy enabled him to take in every detail at a glance. The image of the naked girl played on his mind till it was time to get up.

  He cursed his weakness for young girls, he loved them all, even the less beautiful ones. It had been that way, long before puberty and he could never reason why. As an experienced German spy, he knew this weakness would be the death of him. Sensibly, relationships were to be avoided at all costs because they made spies vulnerable. It could sway loyalties, lead to mistakes in judgement and trust in the wrong person.

  It was weeks since he had been with a woman so his urges were overwhelming. This petite angel was available and he had to have her.

  The first day. 2nd December 1943

  Pieter was awake when Herman politely knocked, placed his dried and pressed clothes on a chair in the bedroom, then left. Pieter got up and opened his drapes, remembering to step past the large pool of water on the floor.

  The harbour was a beautiful sight. The sea was a tropical blue, the morning mist retreating quickly to the horizon and this was an altogether wonderful spring day, but in December. The sun through the glass lit the dust in the air and warmed his naked body as he threw the steaming wood frames open, letting in a blast of chilled, fresh air. The gulls circled and screeched as they searched vainly for food, wary these days of the soldiers who shot at them, needing food themselves. The smell of the salt air and seaweed blew into the musty smelling room, transforming his first opinion of the island to one of paradise.

  Hastily Pieter carried out his ablutions, dressed and went out for a brisk run to the harbour and back in time for breakfast.

  Oberst Schwalm had been busy with the personnel files and had whittled them down to a short list for Pieter to choose from. As they sat down together for breakfast, they were joined by Helga Bunt, who was introduced to Pieter as the Oberst’s assistant. She blushed perceptively as she was told his name, Pieter Klein, a technician sent from Berlin. Both Pieter and Helga pretended they had never met and ignored each other during conversation at the table.

  Even though Helga did not look at him, he filled her mind, making her clumsy and distracted. Pieter noticed this and knew it was just a matter of time before she came to him; the sooner the better he thought, as he drank in every feature of her sweet face and nuance of movement. He guessed she was in her late twenties and appeared greatly favoured by Schwalm. The man was not married, according to his records, and provided he kept their relationship secret, he would not be reprimanded by Berlin. They held Dedrick in high regard, though not highly enough to avoid sending him to Alderney.

  Helga’s face shape was square like Pieter’s, proof positive the rule of face shape and first impressions was valid! It was framed with naturally wavy fair hair, held back in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. It was her natural colour according to her eyebrows and from what he remembered in the bathroom. He also remembered her pert breasts, imagining their hard nipples presenting under her immaculate blouse and uniform jacket.

  Her grey eyes were bright and alert, taking in everything she could about Pieter.

  Her voice was soft and sensual, even though she spoke rapidly. Typical of a quick thinker. She was eloquent and he had no doubt she came from a high class German family.

  After they had eaten a particularly meagre breakfast, Helga was given her instructions for the morning and dismissed herself from the room, leaving Pieter and the Oberst to do their work. Herman cleared away and left them to it.

  ***

  Later that morning, Pieter spoke with Schwalm.

  “Herr Oberst, I have looked through your choice of technical staff and have chosen six men. I would like to interview them straight away and get it down to the three I need. I must say, the men are far from ideal and I am worried none of them will meet my standards.”

  “You chose to put yourself into this game Pieter, so you must make the best of your poor hand. Are you a skilled player or a poor one? That is the question!” The Oberst gave Pieter a fixed glare, his stern expression and piercing blue eyes expressed his own frustration with the assets at his disposal. He was expected to work miracles, so must Pieter and his masters.

  ***

  At Pieter’s request, the Oberst ordered that a large bedroom be emptied, and four chairs and a large table placed in it. This was to become the interview room and later, the training room. The interviews went badly and the aptitude tests fared even worse. Pieter had doubts the men were sentient beings. There was so much at stake and his choice of men would determine the success or failure of this mission, even the war, for Germany. As explained by his masters in Berlin when they first called him in, the cost of munitions was crippling, the time needed to make them was hindering the war effort so every bomb had to reach its target. They had selected him to lead the beacon development team because his electrical engineering background and skill as a spy were the qualifications they sought. The team leader must understand the principles of the device, be obsessed with achieving goals and expert at spy craft. He now realised that he had been spoilt. His development team of German colleagues were scientists of the highest order and they had created a workable device, despite the seemingly overwhelming technical challenges. The beacon was absurdly inefficient electrically, many watts were needed to produce a single watt of radio output; nevertheless, it did the job.

  This final phase, taking the device and putting it into practice, would be the greatest test for Strom. The Führer made it very clear at a personal meeting, “Karl, you must not fail me or Germany, we are depending on you!”

  ***

  Pieter was alone in the interview room. He had dismissed the last interviewee and in the silence of the freezing cold room, he was mulling over his next move. He was trained to put discomfort and even pain to the back of his mind, but bone numbing cold still depressed him. It was another of his weaknesses.

  He wandered to the window and watched the surf breaking on the shore. The bright and sunny dawn that had offered so much promise of accomplishment, had degenerated to a dull grey misty afternoon. It did nothing to raise his spirits.

  There was a knock on the door. The Oberst was out somewhere on the island, it was not Herman’s knock, his heart skipped a beat.

  “Who is it? Herr Oberst is not here?”

  “Helga Bunt, sir. May I come in and speak to you?”

  More missed heart beats.

  “Come in Helga, I can spare you a few minutes.”

  She entered demurely, closing the door quietly behind her, then walked up to him and stood close by his side.

  As she had walked over, Pieter instinctively studied her. He noticed the sweep of her eyes over his desk as she approached. He was trained to read documents upside down on desks. Was she?

  She approached and switched her gaze to his eyes, holding his full attention. By standing so close to him, she had deliberately invaded his personal space. He did the same when he wanted to test an unknown contact. At its simplest level, it reveals the opponent’s belief in his position in t
he pecking order. All things being equal, the opponent would feel intimidated and back away perceptibly. An opponent with secrets, guilt or treachery would also back off. The trick is to decide which situation applies. When a woman stands so close to a man she barely knows, she is saying, I know you desire me and I am very confident I will not disappoint. It is now up to the man not to back off, but make the next play.

  Moving slightly closer and holding her gaze, Pieter smiled warmly, a glint in his eyes. She blushed and backed away, looking down.

  “The Oberst asked me to gather the personnel files for him. I overheard that the men you interviewed deliberately played down their abilities. They do not want to be chosen for whatever mission you have planned.” She looked up, to read his response. His warm smile remained, but the glint had turned to cold steel as he analysed her information. Was she a spy? Was she playing him?

  What she was saying, explained the poor results from the men. He had led them to the water, but they were not about to drink!

  “Thank you for telling me that Helga. What else have you found out about my work here?”

  Her face and eye contact remained unfazed, so he concluded she was very bright, anxious to please him, but naive. Had she been a snoop, possibly even a spy, he felt certain she would have flinched and signed her death warrant.

  “I know nothing about your work, only that you have interviewed men I pulled files on. They are pretending to be fools, according to gossip. I just thought you should know. I could have informed Herr Oberst, but he is not here and I believe he would deal with the men very harshly. I see they have families and I understand their desire to go home. We also have men and women here without families but who have skills you might use. They also have poor records and are not good soldiers, perhaps they might be of interest to you instead.”

  “Please get me all the files for those people, I will look at them and then discuss my findings with Herr Oberst upon his return.”

  “Unless an urgent matter occurs, sir, he will not return until late tomorrow morning; he is with the officers at the Grand Hotel for briefings and dinner. I will be available if you need anything, anything at all.” It was the second “anything” that interested Pieter, the emphasis was quite explicit.

  “I will be at dinner at 7.00pm this evening, so I will also see you then.” She smiled coyly.

  “Thank you Helga, I am sure you and I will see a lot of each other. Thank you for your assistance.” The warm sincere tone of his voice caused her heart beat to quicken.

  She went, leaving Pieter with many questions to think over.

  ***

  It was just an hour later when Herman brought in a small pile of personnel files. He did not say where he got them, but Pieter guessed Helga had given them to him. Although the new applicants’ skills were not primarily electrical, they were all top achievers, their records having been blighted by disciplinary matters. They were not good soldiers when it came to following orders or avoiding trouble. He wanted to see them in person, so he phoned through to Helga.

  “Hello Helga, thank you for the files, they were very interesting. I have a list of the personnel I want to see, immediately. Can you ask Herman to organise it and I will interview them in list order, as soon as they are here.”

  “Of course sir, I will deal with it at once.”

  A few minutes later, Herman collected the list and the first soldier was interviewed within the hour.

  The nine candidates were excellent, carrying out the aptitude tests quickly and accurately. Apparently they were keen to show how smart they were, deciding that they would find a way out if they did not like what they were being vetted for. The chances were though, anything would be better than starving to death on this island.

  A romantic evening.

  At 6.30pm, Pieter Klein went to his room to change for dinner. He took an icy shower in the bitingly cold bathroom and dressed in fresh clothes from his travel bag. A little cologne would do no harm he thought, putting aside any expectations on the part of Helga.

  Pieter walked into the dining room and found her seated at the table. Helga had freshened up and looked pristine, although still in uniform; she smiled at Pieter as he entered the room, and stood to attention.

  “Good evening sir. I understand Herman has managed to procure a chicken for this evening, a rare treat indeed.”

  “Is that real chicken, or seagull masquerading as chicken?” Pieter questioned sarcastically, but with the warmest smile he could muster.

  Helga burst into a nervous giggle which she had difficulty in supressing.

  “Please be seated Helga and please call me Pieter, when we are alone. I think formality can get in the way of communication, when we have to work so closely together.” Helga beamed and sipped her water as she quietly considered his insinuation.

  “How long have you been here on the island, Helga?”

  “Just two years. The Oberst needed an assistant and I was ordered here from Berlin. As you will have noticed, the war grinds on more peacefully here. I was a town girl when I arrived, but soon settled in. Most of the time, the island is a perfect place to live. It has changed for the worse recently though, with the food shortages.

  “Are you able to talk about yourself?” she asked politely.

  Pieter thought the girl was too smart by half. If he said he could not talk about himself, then he had secrets, things to hide. If he opened up and relied on his cover, she might catch him out. He decided to open up, but keep the subject about her. That would not be difficult as he desired her beyond reason; her naked image plagued his thoughts as he conversed with her. With the Oberst absent, he hoped she would sneak into his room later that night. If only the water were wine, it would loosen her up and make her more receptive to his charm. As it was, the two of them were relaxed, there were smiles and laughter. Perhaps the rather romantic low lights, the crackling and hissing of damp wood in the hot stove and enjoyable food were enough.

  Helga loved to talk about herself and life before the war, in Berlin. The few questions she asked of him were typically female curiosity. Was he married and why not? Had he chosen the army career over family? She was a smart girl, but just a girl; he need have no concerns about her allegiance to Germany. She was also canny enough to take fun when it was offered, and not spoil things with Herr Oberst. She understood Pieter would not be here for long, so this was a romance that was destined not to last.

  ***

  Herman had long since cleared away, at 7.45pm. It was now 9.00pm, time for bed!

  “Helga, I have thoroughly enjoyed this evening with you, I wish it would never end.” She stiffened and beamed at Pieter. “I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow, briefing the soldiers and starting their training.” He cursed himself for saying so much. “I am going up to bed now and look forward to your company again, soon.”

  “Thank you Pieter for making the evening so entertaining for me. I certainly don’t want it to end.”

  They both stood up and with a stiff bow, Pieter headed for his room.

  He hastily stripped off and folded his clothes over a chair ready for the morning, slipped on the dressing gown and went to the bathroom.

  Apart from a dim landing light, the Fort was silent and in darkness, when he re-entered his bedroom 10 minutes later. But he could see in the gloom, his bed was not empty.

  Pieter slipped into bed alongside her warm, naked body.

  Sensing he was prepared to let her take any pleasure she desired, she calmed herself and focussed on making it a long night of unbridled passion.

  Alderney Raven. 3rd December 1943

  The icy wind chilled the lone figure to the bone, as it glided silently and furtively towards the headland facing Laye, in France. It wore what appeared to be a flowing black cape, like that of a highwayman, to act as a form of camouflage in the darkness of the night. The fleeting shape hunched low as it moved and all semblance of human form was lost. In an instant, it could merge seamlessly with the irregular silhouette o
f grass and heather, and the undulating ground.

  Normally, the usual activity of the guards on duty at the installations and bunkers could easily be avoided, but since Pieter Klein arrived yesterday, the Oberst had ordered that patrols be increased. The extra guards were very hard to spot. They would hunker down low in the bushes for shelter, remaining invisible in the thin ground mist and darkness. These days, the tell-tale glow of a cigarette or the smell of its smoke was very unlikely, because of the current shortage of supplies.

  The shadow eased up onto a flat rock and pulled out a long powerful torch with a 6” reflector, all wrapped in waxed cloth. Soundlessly the torch was slid down into a rusty pipe, partly buried in the ground, pointing across the English Channel, towards France. The pipe acted both as a guide for accuracy and a light baffle; the light could only be seen head on. The recent ban on radio receivers also meant the soldiers could easily have detected a radio transmitter.

  This shadow was an Alderney spy, known to MI5 as Raven. The routine submarine, aircraft and shipping movements for the day were sent by Morse code. This transmission also included everything Raven had found out regarding Pieter Klein, his search for suitable soldiers and the mysterious box of nitro-glycerine explosives.

  The Raven’s counterpart at Laye, on the La Roche coast, 11 miles away, received the message and relayed it to Sir Philip Stern at MI5.