Dennis Wheatley - Duke de Richleau 07

by The Second Seal

  In consequence, the Duke paid another visit to the regimental tailors with Adam Grünne. Once again they promised special efforts to provide him with a service uniform by Saturday morning, so that he could wear it for the ride-past of the 5th Cavalry Division that afternoon. Then he reluctantly said good-bye to Adam, and proceeded on a shopping expedition to procure all the things he had recommended to his friend the night before as important items in the baggage of an old campaigner.

  During Thursday and Friday he was as happy as he could be, considering that he had no hope of seeing Ilona again for a long time to come. It was now nearly seven weeks since he had received his wounds, so he was fully recovered from them. His talks on modern war were received as shockingly revolutionary, but with awe and diffident respect. He liked the gay, optimistic young gallants who were his companions, and his born love of soldiering made him enjoy being once again with troops. For him it was a real pleasure to sit a good horse each morning while watching their well-timed evolutions in the Prater, and afterwards to use his quick eye in the stables, making a useful comment here and there.

  On Saturday the morning was devoted to a final polish of already gleaming bits, buckles, buttons, arms and saddlery. Then, in the afternoon, Ilona Theresa’s Hussars rode out to meet the rest of the 5th Cavalry Division in the open spaces of the park. As the division was composed largely of Household Troops it had been purposely held back and was the last to leave for the front. So officers and men were doubly eager to show their fitness for service, and the ride past presented a fine spectacle of good training in perfect parade ground manœvre.

  All the regiments passed the saluting base twice: first in column at the walk; then in line of squadrons at the charge, with drawn swords or lances levelled. General Conrad von Hötzendorf was taking the parade and, as De Richleau rode by on the right of, and half a horses length behind, Prince Thurn und Taxis, out of the corner of his eye he saw the wizened-faced little General, unmoving and unwinking, scrutinizing the cavalcade with an eagle’s eye for possible faults.

  Having been subjected to that icy stare, everyone was glad when the ordeal was over, and as they rode off the parade De Richleau was just congratulating the Prince on the excellent show that the regiment had put up, when one of von Hötzendorf’s A.D.C. s galloped up to him, drew rein, and said:

  “The General’s compliments, Count Königstein, and he would like a word with you.”

  Surprised and considerably disturbed, De Richleau saluted the Prince, turned his mount, and galloped back to the saluting base with the A.D.C. Von Hötzendorf had just mounted his horse. Returning the Duke’s salute, he gave him a hard look and sniffed:

  “What the devil are you doing in this turn-out?”

  De Richleau strove to conceal his annoyance. He felt that it was a most appalling stroke of ill-luck that von Hötzendorf should have spotted him among the eight thousand odd men who had just ridden past. Gone now was any hope of his getting back to England via Russia. The General knew that he was not an Austrian, so would never permit him to go to the front. Instead, he would question the right of an alien to wear Austrian uniform. If he took the matter up, as it seemed certain he would, Major Ronge would be brought into the inquiry and give voice to his suspicions. Von Hötzendorf would ride rough-shod over any right that Ilona could claim to be responsible for the officers of her own regiment. He would have a fit at the very idea that anyone suspected of being a spy should continue to hold a commission, and would insist on the suspect’s instant dismissal. Or, worse, as his powers over army personnel were virtually absolute, after hearing what the secret service people had to say, he would probably have the suspect clapped into a fortress.

  Concealing his feelings with an effort, the Duke made the only reply he could. “Your Excellency, since Her Imperial Highness did me the honour of granting me a commission in her regiment, I felt that now war has come my proper course was to serve in it.”

  Von Hötzendorf continued to regard him with a chilly stare, and barked: “I thought you were by birth a Frenchman, and so half a foreigner?”

  De Richleau knew that he was not up against a Count Tisza, from whom he could expect a sympathetic hearing if he attempted to explain his anomalous position: moreover the General’s staff were gathered round him listening intently. So in a final effort to save himself, if only temporarily, he resorted to a thoroughly misleading statement:

  “It is true that I was born a Frenchman, Excellency; but I long since repudiated that nationality. I bear an Austrian title, and in this emergency I am proud to serve with the Austrian army.”

  The General’s reply was as unexpected as a bolt from the blue. With an impatience that was typical of him, he turned his horse preparatory to riding away, and flung over his shoulder:

  “Then you are far too highly qualified to chuck yourself away as a spare sabre in a cavalry regiment. I haven’t forgotten our talk on strategy when you lunched with me. I am leaving for my battle headquarters to-morrow morning. My special train will depart from the Arsenal station at six o’clock. Report there at half past five for duty with my operations staff.”

  As De Richleau rapped out, “Jawohl, Excellence!” and saluted the retreating figure of the little General, he could hardly believe that he had heard right. His situation had been extraordinary enough before, but von Hötzendorfs order had made it positively fantastic. Here he was, an enemy alien in Vienna, known to the police, suspected by them of espionage, and allowed a limited liberty only because they had not a strong enough case to contest the demands of a wilful Princess. And now, owing to von Hötzendorf’s ignorance of all this, he had suddenly been appointed to the Operations Staff of Supreme Headquarters, where he was bound to learn all the secrets of the Commander-in-Chief of the Austro-Hungarian armies.

  About the appointment itself there was nothing at all extraordinary. His wide experience of active warfare made him far better qualified than the great majority of von Hötzendorf’s officers to fill such a post and had he been what he seemed, the C. in C. would have had every reason to congratulate himself on having secured his services.

  But he was not, and he had deliberately misled the General about his nationality; so if the K.S. got to hear of the appointment he would be in the very devil of a mess. Ronge would have a case against him then, with a vengeance. It would be alleged that he had lied with intent to gain possession of military secrets, and whatever he might say to the contrary they would never believe him. In war time, espionage was a capital crime. The false impression he had given to escape being locked up in a fortress might now cost him his life. They might put him up against a brick wall and shoot him.

  CHAPTER XXII - WHICH ROAD HOME?

  As the Duke rode slowly back to the barracks, he wondered what on earth he should do. Since he had told von Hötzendorf that he was proud to be serving with the Austrian army, he could not possibly refuse the appointment without an explanation; and neither Ilona’s honorary commission nor Major Ronge’s complaisance would prevent a martinet like the little General from having him locked up for wearing an Austrian uniform under false pretences. If he deliberately missed the train that would only be to postpone the issue, as von Hötzendorf would have him sent for. He could elude the C. in C. by disappearing but he had made no preparation for such a move, so that would be to take a big risk of being caught by Ronge’s police. The only really safe way in which he could now keep clear of von Hötzendorf’s unwelcome attentions seemed to be to go to the K.S. Chief, tell him what had happened, and ask to be put back into prison.

  But De Richleau was not the man to adopt such a solution. The C. in C.’s train was leaving from the military station inside the Arsenal, so no railway police would be there to watch its departure, and if he said nothing of his appointment to his brother officers it was unlikely that Ronge would hear of it, at least for several days. His people would report the suspect’s disappearance, but the situation would then be no different from what it would have been had he left Vienn
a with his regiment. And if he went with von Hötzendorf his prospects of getting away into Russian-held territory would be much the same. He realized that he would be taking his life in his hands from the moment he stepped aboard the C. in C.’s train but, as the only alternative to going back to prison, he decided it would be worth it.

  That night he made his preparations. Unpacking a roll of bandage and a miniature automatic that he had bought when getting together his war equipment, he knotted the bandage into a neat shoulder sling which would enable him to carry the little weapon concealed beneath his coat, under his left armpit. From next morning on, he intended to wear it regularly until he was out of danger; as he felt that from the moment he left the barracks he must consider himself to be at war with the K.S., and he did not mean to be arrested and tried as a spy without putting up a fight. Having packed the rest of his war kit, he wrote a short note to leave for Prince Thurn und Taxis, excusing his abrupt departure on the grounds that he had been ordered without warning to proceed on a mission of a highly secret nature, and asking that his luggage should be sent to Sacher’s to await further instructions. Then he set his alarm clock for four o’clock and went to bed.

  When he woke in the morning, as soon as he had dressed, he carried his kit downstairs, telephoned for a taxi and, when it came to the door of the officers’ quarters, ordered the driver to take him to the West-bahnhof, to which he would have gone had he been heading for Switzerland. There, he changed taxis, taking a second one to the Sudbahnhof, which was the terminus for Italy, and thence, having muddled his trail as well as he could, he took a third one round to the Arsenal.

  In spite of the early hour, the headquarters block was already a hive of activity. Officers and orderlies were hurriedly loading kit, files, stationery, food, and other impedimenta on to the special train that was drawn up in a nearby siding. A corporal piloted the Duke through them to a waiting-room, and soon afterwards an A.D.C. appeared, who took him upstairs to a mess where von Hötzendorf was drinking coffee with several senior officers.

  Among them was the elderly Archduke Frederick, who belonged to a cadet branch of the Imperial family. He was extremely short-sighted, wore side-whiskers in imitation of the Emperor, and had the reputation of being almost childishly simple. The Archduke Charles, now Heir Apparent, had left a week earlier for the temporary battle H.Q. at Teschen, but he was considered to be too young to be given Supreme Command of the armies; so, owing to Franz Ferdinand’s assassination, this poor nit-wit, Frederick, had been entrusted with the task of maintaining the glories of the Habsburgs in the field. But for all practical purposes von Hötzendorf filled the role of Commander-in-Chief, and was referred to by his staff as ‘the C. in C.’. He greeted De Richleau with abrupt affability, presented him to the Archduke, to his Chief of Staff, General Count Bellegarde, and to the head of his Operations Section, a Colonel Pacher, under whom it had already been decided that the Duke should work.

  Pacher was a squarely built man of middle height. His blue eyes were evidently weak, as he wore thick lensed pince-nez; but he had a broad brow and good features. De Richleau put him down at once as either an officer who had risen from the ranks, or one of bourgeois origin; but it did not surprise him to find such a type on the C. in C.’s staff. Unlike the Germans, the Austrian and Hungarian nobility felt so secure in the antiquity of their lineage that they gave themselves no airs and were always willing to mix freely with men of humbler birth; so there was no caste jealousy in the Austrian army and many middle-class men like Pacher rose in it to hold high ranks. He said at once that he was already overburdened with work, so would be delighted to have the Duke’s assistance, then took him downstairs and had his kit stowed on the train.

  It consisted of five coaches: a restaurant car, two sleeping cars, two fitted up as conference rooms and offices, and, in addition, a baggage wagon and horse boxes. At six o’clock precisely, with everyone who remained on the platform standing rigidly at the salute, it steamed out on its way to the C. in C.’s battle headquarters.

  De Richleau had already learned that these were to be at Przemysl, a large fortress town in Galicia, on the far side of the Carpathians: and the train was hardly clear of Vienna before he began to learn a lot of other things, too. Pacher had at once settled down to work, and was going rapidly through a big pile of situation reports, while nearby two of his juniors were sticking coloured flags in a big map which had been fixed up at one end of the staff car. The map showed the whole of the Dual Monarchy and a considerable portion of all the states adjacent to it. The flags indicated the present location of all the major formations of the Austro-Hungarian armies, and as it was now the 16th of August the great majority of these had reached their battle positions. Before half the flags were in place De Richleau realized that the impetuous von Hötzendorf had kicked off with the wrong foot and was now in a howling mess.

  The Duke still had very clearly in his mind the Serbian appreciation of Austria’s plans in the event of war, which Dimitriyevitch had given him to read in Belgrade. The key to that had been the deployment of the Austrian 2nd army. If the war were to be against Serbia only, this, the biggest of all the armies, was to be hurled with the weak 5th and 6th against the Serbians: but if the war were to be against Russia and Serbia simultaneously it was to be deployed with the 1st, 3rd and 4th armies on the Russian front. Yet the flags on the map showed that this all-important force was concentrated in the south, along the rivers Save and Danube.

  Such a set-up in the face of Russia’s might seemed quite inexplicable. De Richleau could attribute it only to an incredibly rash impulse on von Hötzendorf’s part to endeavour to crush his small and most loathed enemy even at the risk of the Dual Monarchy being invaded from the north. But the Duke was not supposed to know anything about Austria’s pre-war plans so, with a bland air of innocence, he remarked to Colonel Pacher:

  “I find it somewhat surprising that nearly half our forces should be employed against Serbia.”

  The Colonel gave him a worried look. “That is only a temporary measure and was brought about by our inability to foresee the present situation. When we ordered partial mobilization on the 25th of July there was every indication that the Great Powers would succeed in preventing the war from spreading. Naturally we wished to make the conflict with Serbia as brief as possible, so our 2nd army was included in the partial mobilization and despatched south. As it happened that was particularly unfortunate, as two of its four corps were stationed in Bohemia. Not unnaturally, perhaps, learning of our war-like preparations in Prague and on their own borders, the Russians thought we were mobilizing against them, so ordered mobilization along our own frontiers themselves. After that it was found impossible to control events any longer.”

  ‘So,’ thought the Duke grimly, ‘von Hötzendorf’s unappeasable hatred of the Serbs had not only been the major cause of the original outbreak of hostilities, but with a criminal disregard of consequences, he had ordered military measures, resulting in the chain of events that had set all Europe ablaze.’ But Colonel Pacher was going on:

  “By the 31st of July, when Russia ordered general mobilization, it was too late to cancel the movement of the 2nd Army. With your experience of warfare you will know how such things work. We couldn’t possibly stop the hundreds of trains full of troops and equipment halfway to their destinations. To have done so would have thrown our whole railway system out of gear and created chaos of the movements of the other Armies. The only thing to do was to let the 2nd Army go on to the Danube and deploy there; then work out an entirely new time-table for re-entraining it and bringing it north to the Russian front. But naturally, that sort of thing takes time, and it will not be ready to start on its northward journey until the 18th.”

  Recalling Sir Henry Wilson’s statement, that the Russian armies would take several days longer to mobilize than those of the Dual Monarchy, De Richleau was delighted to think that von Hötzendorf had already lost his big opportunity and got himself into a glorious muddle. But h
e said with suitable gravity:

  “That seems most unfortunate. I imagine sound strategy would have dictated an immediate offensive against the Russians with everything we could muster while we still had the advantage of numbers; but now it appears unlikely that we shall be able to bring up our 2nd Army in time to participate in the first great battle.”

  “I fear that is so,” the Colonel agreed glumly. “But, of course, we are deriving some compensation from the deployment of the 2nd Army in the south. With his 5th and 6th Armies in Bosnia, General Potiorek could have menaced Serbia only from the west; whereas with the deployment of the 2nd Army to the north, he has been able to do so on two fronts; so the Serbians will be greatly weakened by having to retain forces along the Danube which might otherwise have been used to resist our offensive across the Drina.”

  “How is it going?”

  “It has started well. Potiorek’s 5th Army began its advance on the 12th and entered Shabatz almost unopposed. It is now approaching the Jadar. But I am not altogether happy about our future prospects down there. In my view General Potiorek has deployed his 6th Army too far to the south. Of course, he has to deal with the Montenegrins on his right flank and take care of a Serbian division that has moved up from Uzhite; but the trouble is that it is now right out of touch with the 5th. When the 2nd is withdrawn and the Voyvode Putnik realizes that he has nothing to fear from that direction, he will be able to oppose our 5th Army with practically the whole of his forces. As he has ten divisions in northern Serbia he will outnumber our people, and I fear we may suffer a temporary reverse.”