‘I have another job for you while you’re working at Sondershausen. There’s a secret weapons facility nearby in the Nordhausen area. Security is tight, but there’s nothing like a combat veteran to give the place a once over and assess the measures that are already in place and see if they can be improved. That is your task. But there’s something more that I wish you to talk to you about.’
Simon looked at his superior officer. He could sense that Schellenberg was in two minds about how to proceed next. He decided to wait him out in silence.
‘Very well, then…’ Schellenberg looked him squarely in the eye. ‘Do you remember when we first met at RSHA? I sensed at the time that you mistrusted me, and who could blame you for that? As an SS general I was asking for you to tell me your innermost thoughts. Apart from giving me some realistic advice about the state of the Eastern Front- and quite rightly so- you toed the party line and gave little away. But I suspected all along that your true feelings were at variance with what you told me. I thought you were sick of war and the senseless bloodshed. With the death of your wife, and what you’d seen in Poland, all of these things would be enough to make any man question just what he stood for…
He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘I know you and your father were close to Canaris. You know that the admiral and I formed an alliance. It is a loose one admittedly. I doubt he ever really trusted me. Am I right?’
Simon gave a tiny nod, but kept his silence.
Schellenberg sighed, somewhat bitterly. ‘It is as I suspected. But realistically, I could not hope for more. I’m sure the admiral said that I would always look after my own interests first, and that everything else was secondary. I used to think that way too, but that’s changed, for a variety of reasons. Despite whom I work for, and the things I know about and have witnessed, I still like to think of myself as a man of honour and integrity.’ He laughed, in a self-deprecating manner, and then suddenly grew serious. ‘Yes, even me. So I’m going to be honest with you…’ He paused, keeping his voice low and all the while holding Simon’s gaze.
‘I gave my word to Canaris. I also gave my word to you. And I’ve kept both. It’s not been easy- such is the way of things these days. Remember Brandt?’ He waited for a few moments to let the impact of his words to sink in. ‘Of course, how could you ever forget? You kept a promise then, so in return I’m being honest with you. Despite what you may think, I always have been.’
Schellenberg paused, watching him closely. ‘Max, I’m as sure as I can be that your version of events of the operation in England is not entirely accurate. I can’t as yet tell you how I know, and I doubt if you would believe me anyway. Yet here we are- and now is the winter of our discontent.’
Simon froze, as if in a dream. The words shocked him to the core. That was the exact recognition phrase Menzies had drummed into him in Hermitage House, all those months ago. And to cap it all, Schellenberg had just whispered it in English. He stared open-mouthed at the general, not quite believing what he had just heard.
Schellenberg affected a casual smile, watching the look of astonishment flit over Simon’s face. ‘So perhaps now you see where I’m coming from. Maybe you will trust me somewhat better from now on. You’re going to need to. What happened in England is now ancient history and no longer matters. What concerns me now is our immediate future. The next few months are going to be quite dramatic. We’re all going to need friends we can trust, implicitly, and with no questions asked. There won’t be enough time to be polite and check alibis. It will be very much shoot first and ask questions later.
‘The other, more important reason for sending you to Sondershausen and Nordhausen is this- the secret weapon establishment there is run directly on instructions from the Reichsführer. Few of the details have leaked out, but I’ve learned through various sources that biological weapons are being produced secretly and illegally. I know that this is directly against the Führer’s wishes, but that’s not the sort of thing to challenge Himmler with, not if you wish to stay alive.’ He continued to keep his voice low. ‘So, while your overt mission is to check the security there, your covert role will be to report to me on what’s really going on, and how close they are to finishing these weapons. You’ll report back to me by any means you can. Understood?’
Simon nodded.
‘It’s very much like before, back at RSHA.’ Schellenberg carried on. ‘I can’t be seen at Nordhausen itself, not without a very good reason, which at the moment I don’t have. You, on the other hand, will have every excuse to snoop around and pry everywhere and anywhere, without question or comment. There’s also some other news.’
‘What’s that, sir?’
‘An acquaintance of yours is there already, an old friend. I won’t spoil the surprise by telling you who he is yet. Wait and see. Are you happy to go ahead and do this?’
Once again, Simon found it hard to see a way he could refuse. His brain worked furiously. Was Schellenberg really in contact with MI6? The man had not specifically said so, but how else could he know that password? It was inconceivable that Schellenberg had let slip that famous opening Shakespearean line entirely innocently. But this was still a highly dangerous situation, one without any guarantees. Who would be believed if push came to shove and all this secrecy was exposed- a major or a general? Just as before, he was entirely dependent on Schellenberg’s protection. The answer was clear to him. Simon would have no choice but to comply with this latest ‘request’. But maybe another deal could be struck.
‘Before I answer your question, you haven’t told me about my father. Or Canaris. And I haven’t heard from either of them for quite few months. Sir, what’s going on?’ Simon’s tone sharpened, his voice rising. ‘You said you were a man of your word. Prove it.’
‘Quiet. Keep your voice down,’ the general muttered, glancing towards the front of the car. He no longer looked casual. A grim look dominated his features. ‘I trust Hansen in most things, but I trust nobody with any of this.’ A note of sorrow crept into his voice. ‘I have kept my word, believe me. Otherwise, Himmler would have had them both executed by now. You remember the Bomb plot last July?’ Simon nodded but he was afraid of what was about to be revealed. ‘It failed. Hitler wanted to lash out at all those in the conspiracy, and anyone else associated with a lack of suitable National Socialist fervour. So he appointed Himmler as commander of the Home Army. As well as being the Reich’s chief police officer and Minister of the Interior, Himmler now has total authority over virtually all aspects of life in the Reich, and a large amount of control over the Army as well.
‘Most of the conspirators were from the Home Army, or scattered throughout regional government. Both organizations were brutally purged, an orgy of torture and death. The same happened throughout the rest of the country. Mock trials, the usual travesty of justice aided and abetted by crazed and crooked lawyers in the pay of the Party. Anybody who was even remotely not fully committed to the Nazi cause was seized. As far as I know, possibly five thousand or so have already been strung up, or hung on meat hooks to die horribly. A similar number is currently languishing in concentration camps, and subject to the usual degradation and ill-treatment. Are you aware of the concept of Sippenhaft?’
Simon shook his head.
‘It means that the same, or a similar fate, is visited on the relatives of all those accused. Nobody can plead ignorance. A lot of innocent women and children are in labour camps, or dead. As for your father, I’m not sure what happened - perhaps someone implicated him while under interrogation. I don’t know the details.’ Schellenberg shrugged ruefully. ‘I’ve done what I can, but he’s now in Flossenberg concentration camp.’
Simon’s heart sank. ‘What? Dear God! How is he?’
‘He’s surviving. I have a contact there on the camp staff that keeps an eye on him and ensures he’s reasonably well treated. That’s all one can ask for and do in a place like that.’
‘How long has he been there?’
‘Since November last
year. He’s done well to stay alive. A bit of weight loss, but little else to worry about.’
‘For Christ’s sake, why didn’t you tell me that before?’ Simon said accusingly.
‘Because you were still recovering, and I didn’t want to jeopardize your progress. Besides, there was nothing you could have done, lying half-paralysed in a hospital bed. The knowledge of your father’s predicament would have driven you mad. Now you’re much better able to help, should the need arise. After all, Sondershausen is only a few hours’ drive from Flossenberg.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Work it out for yourself,’ Schellenberg said, a touch of exasperation entering his voice. ‘If you’ve listened to what I’ve been saying, then surely you must know that the war will soon be over. I think we have a duty to ensure that we try to keep alive all of those who are dear to us, who can help to rebuild our shattered country. Your mother and sister are safe and out of the way. Your father will need your help. If the country begins to fall apart, as I think it will soon, then you may need to act quickly and get him out of there before it’s too late.’
‘And the Admiral? You haven’t mentioned him.’
‘No. As luck would have it, Canaris too is in Flossenberg, for much the same reason - a lack of suitable Nazi fervour. Even with your father’s previous exoneration, the fact that he had once been under suspicion was probably enough to earn him a ticket to a concentration camp. As for the admiral, well, we both know that Himmler has hated him for quite a few years. The failure of the bomb plot was the perfect opportunity to settle old scores and put Canaris behind bars. The only reason I can think of that Canaris is still alive is that Himmler is still afraid the old man has some hidden, incriminating evidence tucked away somewhere. A sort of ace-in-the-hole should the worst happen. My concern about this is that when the country does begin to break up Himmler will take his revenge no matter what evidence Canaris has.
‘The Reichsführer’s becoming more and more desperate. I know for a fact he is trying to arrange peace negotiations behind the Führer’s back. Himmler has been in contact with the Swedish embassy in Berlin, something that he’s been very careful to keep hidden. And at the same time he’s developing these bio-weapons at Nordhausen - a desperate, despairing gamble if ever there was one.’
He fell silent. ‘So, what do you think?‘ Suddenly, the roar of aircraft engines intruded, rapidly followed by the hammer of cannon fire. Hansen swerved the car just in time. A double row of dirt puffs streaked along the length of the road, barely missing the Mercedes. In front of them a small truck suddenly burst into flames. Traffic and people scattered wildly. Several dirty looking bundles that once were living human beings lay scattered along the road like carelessly strewn dolls in a child’s bedroom.
Schellenberg urgently lowered the partition glass. ‘Quick, Hansen. For Christ’s sake get us off the road and under cover.’ But his driver was already in motion. Gunning the engine hard, he shot the Mercedes up the road. Schellenberg anxiously cranked the side window down, trying to track the circling aircraft. A squat grey-green shape was climbing back into the heavens, the beat of its engine receding as it flew further away. Then it began to turn, looping over viciously and angling down for another strafing run.
A village lay up ahead and beyond that a small wood. Hansen drove like a man possessed, hurling the car around a variety of moving and stationary objects in the road with the skill of a skier negotiating a slalom course flat out. The village drew closer and closer until suddenly they reached the outskirts. ‘Turn right at the next junction,’ shouted Schellenberg. They could hear the roar of the plane approaching as it swooped down and flew nearer.
Hansen jumped on the brake pedal, both feet jammed hard down on it to gain maximum pedal pressure, then hurled the car right and ramming a racing gear change through the ‘box. The Mercedes shot around the bend just in time. A barrage of shells slammed into the wall of a nearby house as the fighter rocketed past, smashing clouds of plaster and brick dust into the street. The car sped up the lane and then violently turned left, heading towards the wood. Less than a minute later, they were safe and hidden from view by the mass of conifer branches above them.
‘That was close!’ Schellenberg sank back in his seat with a sigh of relief. He looked over at Simon and smiled shakily. ‘You’ve probably experienced that before.’
‘Not in the back of a Mercedes with leather seats,’ Simon said dryly.
‘Speak for yourself, but that’s the first time for me.’ He wiped his brow with an immaculate handkerchief. The departing fighter roared away overhead, searching for a new target.
They waited for another five minutes before gingerly venturing out of the wood. There was no sound to be heard, except the swaying of branches in the chilly wind. Over to the left, in the direction of where the attack had first started, several columns of smoke drifted lazily upwards in the late afternoon gloom.
‘We should be able to get going without further harassment, sir.’ It was Hansen, speaking from the driver’s seat. ‘I doubt there’s enough visibility for any further attacks.’
Cautiously they resumed their journey. Dusk was rapidly approaching, the setting sun casting a bleary red haze as it settled below the rim of clouds in the west. The car twisted and wound its way across the undulating landscape. Less than half an hour later they were nearing the outskirts of the university town of Göttingen. Only a few scattered lights twinkled, soon to be turned off by the imminent black out regulations.
In the meantime Simon was given plenty of time to consider the lack of options open to him. Although there was little chance of him being ordered to return to active duty, at this late stage of the war anything was possible. Schellenberg had told him that even ten and twelve year-old boys from the Hitler Youth were being given rudimentary training in how to knock out enemy tanks, using Panzerfausten and homemade Molotov cocktails. Elderly men were given rifles and a helmet, and were then forcibly inducted into the Volkssturm, the German equivalent of the Home Guard. Desperate measures indeed. Simon knew full well the naked, terrifying fear that gripped even the most experienced of soldiers when facing up to a massed tank charge by T-34s. Those old men and kids wouldn’t last five seconds.
‘Tell me more about what’s going on at Nordhausen,’ he asked, as the car left Göttingen behind them.
‘I’ve told you most of what I know already,’ Schellenberg said. ‘The underground factories in the Nordhausen area already produce the V1 and V2 rockets. Other areas produce jet engines. A special sealed off area is involved in biological research and development.’
‘How close are they to completing their work?’
‘It’s nearly finished, as far as I know. What worries me is this - if Himmler authorizes deployment then millions more will die., including frontline soldiers and innocent civilians on both sides. It will be the last ride of the Valkyries and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse all rolled up into one- you know how much Hitler and Himmler love Wagner and Norse mythology. I’ve heard the Führer say it himself- ‘we shall not capitulate- no, never! We may be destroyed, but if we are, we shall drag a world with us - a world in flames!’ It is total madness.’ Schellenberg shook his head in despair. ‘There’s little doubt that he’s lost all sense and reason. Hitler’s already authorised Speer to destroy anything of value, no matter what, throughout Germany. The Reichsführer could easily go the same way. There must be a way of preventing Himmler using these deadly weapons for his own ends.’
‘So in return for working for you again…?’ Simon let the rest of his sentence unfinished, waiting for Schellenberg’s reply.
‘I promise to do whatever I can to keep your father and Canaris alive.’
‘You’ll have to do better than that, Brigadeführer,’ Simon snorted derisively. ‘I’m beginning to feel very much like a minor pawn in a much bigger game of strategic chess - not much use and therefore quite disposable.’
‘You’re not disposable.’ Schell
enberg for once was in deadly earnest. ‘And if you know your chess, sometimes a pawn can be the most powerful piece on the board - in the right situation and at the right time. I’ll do everything I can to protect them. I have access to most of the Reichsführer’s personal files. If I get to hear that he’s decided to eliminate your father and Canaris, I’ll warn you. A resourceful soldier such as you should be able to manage the rest. But it means you must always be contactable at short notice. A code word should suffice- how about ‘Brandt’? If you hear that from me, then you’ll know what you must do. I may even come myself.’
Simon thought for a moment then turned to Schellenberg. This time the arrangement would be on a more even footing. ‘Alright I accept. But if I need extra resources, then you’ll help, no matter what, even if it requires your personal intervention.’
‘No matter what…’ Schellenberg offered his hand, and Simon took it.
Mittelbau-Dora camp, Nordhausen, central Germany 1500 14/3/1945
Sturmbannführer Richard Baer wore a worried frown. As far as he could see, the future did not appear to hold anything worth looking forward to. His previously unshaken faith in the dream of National Socialism dominating the world had taken a series of bad knocks over the last ten months, more so recently. The Reich was beginning to crumble, both in the East and in the West, and as every day went by the end appeared to be getting closer and closer. Painfully, he cast his mind back to recent events, the ones that had affected him personally. It was only a month ago that the Soviets had quickly smashed their way through the German front lines in southern Poland and seized the Auschwitz area with all its factories, mines and workshops. That was disastrous enough in itself, but worse still, the camp had fallen into their hands almost completely intact. Only a few demolitions in the most incriminating areas were hastily completed before the Red Army marched in. The crematoria and some of the processing centres were demolished, but everything else was left untouched. Those inmates fit to walk were brutally marched off to the West. Most of the rest were shot where they lay. There simply had not been enough time to do anything more.
The Fall of the Father Land Page 9
