The Girl from Berlin: War Criminal's Widow

by Ellie Midwood

  “You don’t think they’ll succeed? What if they do? It’ll open so many doors for Germany! We’ll be able to sign a peace with the Allies.”

  “They will never succeed.”

  “Why not?”

  “If it’s really his own generals or other officers conspiring against him, they won’t be able to, let’s say, plain shoot him. First, you can’t walk to the Führer’s room with your weapon, therefore they’ll have to think of something else. And second, they’re too afraid of him, they’re still under the influence of his hypnotic power over them, they won’t be able to overcome it completely. The assassination, even if they really decide to carry it out, won’t be well-planned or properly executed for this very reason: the fear. If they were the rebels from the occupied country, it would be a different story. Those people aren’t afraid to die, they saw too much death already. But our officers, they have families, they’ll be dreading reprisals, so they won’t be able to go all the way. No, it’s never going to work.”

  _______________

  Inside the Reich Main Security Office the mood wasn’t much better. It was a shame that now we were all prescribed to wear grey field uniforms, I thought; the black ones would go much better with everybody’s somber faces. By lunchtime I couldn’t take both the depressed tone of Ernst’s subordinates and the permanent cloud of smoke in his office, and dragged him out to the nearest park to get some fresh air.

  “People are staring at us as it is, and you’re making me eat ice-cream on top of it. Why do I always listen to you? What if someone from the office sees me here with this goddamn cone? I’ll shoot myself from the embarrassment!”

  I tried my best not to laugh at his grumpy look and how he was desperately trying to hide behind the newspaper left by someone on the bench, but still couldn’t contain a chuckle.

  “Stop laughing! It’s not funny!”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t take you seriously with that ice-cream cone in your hand! Especially together with your size and virile look.” I couldn’t stop giggling.

  “You’re a terrible woman!” Ernst grumbled again, but took another bite from his ice-cream, almost professionally covering himself with the newspaper.

  I finished my waffle cone and leaned back on the bench, taking a deep breath of the fresh spring air. And then I looked around and noticed that there were mostly women with children in the park: most of the men had been drafted into the army. The Wehrmacht had extended the age to 45 now; sixteen and seventeen year old Hitlerjugend were welcome to join the army as well. All of a sudden the peaceful scenery of the park with neatly cut trees and lawns and cheerful music coming from the radios seemed unnatural, almost staged, and I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that all this was going to fall apart like decorations in a theatre to reveal only the grey skeleton of the concrete back wall with wooden planks and ropes. I frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” Ernst’s question brought me back to the real world. I didn’t notice that he was watching me for some time.

  “Nothing.” I tried to fake a cheerful smile, but he didn’t buy it.

  “Annalise.” He gave me one of his reproachful looks, as if saying, don’t you think I know you’re lying?

  I sighed.

  “I can’t even explain it. Do you know that feeling when everything seems to be fine and all of a sudden you get that premonition that something very bad is about to happen?”

  “I guess.”

  “Well, that’s what I just felt. I just had this thought that what if it’s the last spring that we’re enjoying as a free nation? What if it’s the last May that we’re sitting in this park, on this bench, you and me, and the next May it will all be gone?”

  Ernst looked at me very seriously, and I realized that he knew very well what I was talking about. But he still took my hands in his, smiled and said, “How about this. Annalise Friedmann, I invite you on a date next May 24, 1945, right here on this very bench, at 12:30, and even if your Allies level this park to the ground, I’ll still be waiting for you on this very spot with flowers in my hand.”

  I smiled and promised, “I’ll meet you here, Ernst Kaltenbrunner. May 24, 1945. At 12:30.”

  He threw away the newspaper and kissed me right in front of everybody.

  _______________

  Berlin, June 6, 1944. D-Day.

  “Today our allied forces landed in Normandy. We opened the second, Western front. It’s official now. Congratulation, colleagues!”

  Ingrid, the American counterintelligence agent, toasted her glass with her ‘husband’ Rudolf, Heinrich and me. They must be very proud, I thought, after so many years working undercover on the territory of the Reich they are finally celebrating their victory. And what are we celebrating?

  Yes, we wanted the Nazi regime gone together with its leaders and all the atrocities and bloodshed they brought with them, but the Nazi plague spread out through every single sphere of life in Germany. The liquidation of the regime went hand in hand with the total defeat of the whole nation. It was like a surgeon cutting the patient’s infected leg off to save his life. And now the Allies would have to cut the whole country in pieces in order to save its people.

  “What’s going to happen to us?” I didn’t realize that I pronounced my last thought aloud.

  “You two have nothing to be afraid of.” Rudolf gave me a reassuring smile. “Our superiors in the States know what tremendous work you’ve been doing with us. Now the only thing all of us have to do is to stay alive, not compromise ourselves, and wait till the full victory of the Allied forces.”

  “We won’t have to wait too long.” Ingrid smiled. “You two are coming to my concert tonight, right?”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Heinrich was all courtesy, even though I knew that he felt the same way that I did. What’s going to happen to us, Germans?

  _______________

  The working day in the RSHA was coming to the end when I got a call from Walther Schellenberg’s adjutant saying that Herr Oberführer wanted to talk to me in private.

  “I’ll be there in a minute.” I was quite surprised by such a request, considering the mutual animosity between Ernst and the Chief of SD-Ausland. Normally Schellenberg wouldn’t summon me so openly to his office, so the matter must be important.

  Oberführer Schellenberg met me in his anteroom and told me to follow him. I got even more confused when he, casually chatting about something, took me all the way down to the first floor, and then proceeded to the basement, where the Gestapo jail was situated. I kept quiet all the way, but when he motioned one of the guards to open one of the rooms and gestured me inside, I finally spoke, “What’s going on, Herr Oberführer? Am I under arrest?”

  Walther Schellenberg laughed and squinted his eyes at me, offering me a chair.

  “Why, have you done something bad?”

  “No, that’s why I don’t understand what we’re doing here.”

  He positioned himself across the table from me and interlaced his fingers together.

  “We’re just talking. I’m sorry that I had to bring you here, but this is the only room in the whole building that isn’t wired. And the conversation we’ll be having demands… privacy.”

  “I’m listening.” It was getting more and more interesting.

  “Annalise, you know my attitude towards you, right?”

  Where’s he going with this?

  “Yes,” I answered carefully, trying to figure out what he needed from me, and he needed something.

  The problem was that he was the most professional intelligence agent in the whole Reich, and it was impossible to outplay him in his own game. But I still learned a lot from him back in the days when we were working together, and now I had to apply my lessons.

  “Personally I found it absolutely devastating and distasteful when both Müller and his agent Reinhard started digging up this inexistent dirt on you. But the matter of the fact is that our dearest ‘Papa’ Müller hasn’t given up on that. Or shall I better
say, he shifted his attention to a different level.”

  “I thought that the story was over with,” I said honestly.

  “Not really. You know how Müller is, he’s like a dog, if he gets his teeth into something, he won’t let go.”

  We were sitting across the table from each other like two world class chess players, trying to calculate the opponent’s next move. My disadvantage was that I still didn’t know the purpose of this conversation. He wasn’t just being ‘good old friend’ Walther trying to help out his former secretary; he wanted to use me for some purpose, and until I understood for what exactly, I couldn’t make the next move. However, the further the conversation was going, the more I concentrated on connecting what happened in the Protectorate just a couple of months ago and how my former boss might be involved in it.

  “What do you mean when you say that he took it to a different level?” I decided to play along for now and asked him the question he wanted me to ask.

  “Well, first of all, he still believes that all the information in Reinhard’s file was credible.”

  His first move: slight intimidation.

  “Reichsführer Himmler dismissed it after Dr. Kaltenbrunner’s intervention.”

  “I know, I know.” The Chief of SD-Ausland smiled again. “I absolutely agree with that decision of his, I read the file – hope you don’t mind – and found it too farfetched. But it arose even more questions in Müller, for example why Dr. Kaltenbrunner went straight to Reichsführer Himmler, and didn’t even speak to him first…”

  “Müller is his subordinate, and Dr. Kaltenbrunner isn’t compelled to report to him.”

  “It’s not the point of who’s reporting to whom, it’s just when you shoot someone’s deputy it’s a matter of common courtesy to at least let them know personally. Do you understand what I mean?”

  “Not really. Where are you going with all this?”

  “Gruppenführer Müller started digging on both of you now, you and Obergruppenführer Kaltenbrunner.”

  Second move: open attack.

  Walther Schellenberg was watching my reaction closely, and I still couldn’t understand his motives. He hated Ernst with the same passion as Ernst hated him; he couldn’t care less if Müller decided to dig up something incriminating on him. Especially if he indeed was involved in the failed British assassination. So why tell me this? He was playing a game, I was sure of it now, but what kind of a game?

  “I think that both Führer and Reichsführer are quite satisfied with Obergruppenführer Kaltenbrunner’s work. I find it very improbable that Gruppenführer Müller can find something incriminating on him. Dr. Kaltenbrunner simply doesn’t do anything incriminating.”

  “Correction: he didn’t do anything incriminating. But recently your boss started expressing quite interesting points of view concerning certain Party courses… The Final Solution is just one example.”

  Oberführer Schellenberg slightly tilted his head to one side, waiting for my next move. I shrugged.

  “He suggested to stop the extermination program to Reichsführer, it’s not a secret. He said it openly, not to one of his friends in a secretly recorded conversation. And besides, he had reasons behind it.”

  “A Jewish mistress?” A playful wink and the joking tone, masking the unspoken ‘I know everything about the two of you.’

  “Not that I know of,” I replied in the same manner and smiled. “The reasons he explained to Reichsführer were that the world would never forgive us the extermination of the Jews. Now that the Allies have landed in Normandy and are rapidly moving towards the French capital, we need to stop, or at least halt the program in order to be able to have some sort of a decent relationship with the Western powers if it comes to that. Nobody will agree to deal with the country who exterminated around five millions of Jews.”

  “You just made my next point, Annalise. That very last thought of yours, or shall I say, Obergruppenführer Kaltenbrunner’s, that’s what made Müller start sniffing around like a first grade hound. You do know about the special order by the Führer prescribing to immediately strip down of all the ranks and execute every single officer who is suspected in defeatism and negotiations with the enemy, right?”

  “Yes, but I don’t understand…”

  “What’s not to understand, my dear? Müller thinks that Dr. Kaltenbrunner is already having certain contacts with the enemy. Through you.”

  “What?”

  I didn’t even have to fake surprise. That was definitely a made up lie. I might had been working for the counterintelligence, but negotiating with the Allies was far above both mine and Ernst’s level. Schellenberg noticed my sincere astonishment with a slight smile.

  “Especially after that story with the supposed American emigrant who you met in Zurich. Your boss told Reichsführer that it was an emigrant looking for work with the Gestapo, but meanwhile the story didn’t go anywhere, no file has been issued, what happened to that man nobody knows, so Müller assumed that the American was a representative of the enemy who Obergruppenführer Kaltenbrunner contacted through you to start negotiations.”

  “Obergruppenführer Kaltenbrunner is not entitled to have such negotiations.”

  “He’s the Chief of the Reich Main Security Office, which controls the Gestapo which controls the whole nation. And the President of the Interpol. Above him only Reichsführer Himmler and the Führer.”

  “He’s still not in a position to negotiate with the enemy.”

  “Not yet, but you never know what’s going to happen tomorrow. Why not prepare the ground for now, and then see how it goes?” Schellenberg smiled again. “Those are not my thoughts, those are Müller’s. I’m merely warning you. And if I were you, I’d watch your boss closely and notice everything unusual, some non-Aryan people he gets in contact with, phone conversations, maybe some papers if you’re lucky.”

  “You’re suggesting I spy on him?”

  “Not spy… watch him, for his own good. And report to me if you notice something. It should be easy in your position of his… secretary.” He wanted to say ‘mistress,’ but corrected himself in the last minute. On purpose, just to show me again that he was very well informed about our very unprofessional relationship. “You know that Reichsführer Himmler and I have a very trusting relationship, and it would be easy for me to get Obergruppenführer out of trouble if I know about such negotiations. You know that I’m the master when it comes to intrigues.”

  His final move: well-faked care.

  The Chief of SD-Ausland laughed. Yes, you are, I thought, you so are. Now the chess game is over, checkmate, Annalise, you still didn’t figure out why he told you all this.

  Chapter 4

  Ernst’s first reaction when I told him about my conversation with the Chief of SD-Ausland was to turn the car around, go back to the RSHA and shoot the ‘insolent son of a bitch’ in the face. But after a glass of brandy in a nearby café the impulsive Austrian finally regained control of his emotions and decided to go see his best friend Otto Skorzeny instead.

  When he wasn’t busy with his training camp, Otto stayed in a very nice apartment in the center of Berlin – a generous gift from the RSHA (or better say from its Chief). As soon as we stopped on his floor, Ernst started banging on the heavy wooden door with such force that Otto yanked it open with a gun in his hand, cursing like only Austrians can. However, as soon as he saw that it was his friend standing in front of him, ‘the most dangerous man in Europe’ immediately flashed the biggest smile, put the gun away and bear-hugged his visitor.

  “Ernst! What a surprise! Come in, I just got the whole case of Dom Perignon from France!” Otto finally noticed me behind Ernst’s back. “Hello, Annalise! Now the surprise is even more pleasant. Did I tell you that you look exceptionally beautiful today?”

  Right after that phrase he received a hard smack on the back of the head from his friend.

  “Ouch! What was that for?”

  “Don’t flirt with my girl.”

&nbs
p; “I wasn’t flirting! I was being cordial and courteous.”

  “Right. You don’t even know how to spell ‘courteous.’”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  I laughed. Nobody in the whole RSHA was as colorful as this couple, especially when they were play fighting like they were doing now.

  “Get dressed and let’s go for a walk someplace quiet where we can talk.” Ernst got serious again.

  “Do I sense conspiracy?” Otto playfully squinted his eyes.

  “Oh yes, and major scale. You have two minutes. We’ll be waiting for you in the car downstairs.”

  “Be there in a minute and a half.”

  Otto Skorzeny did come down precisely in one and a half minute; Ernst, who was looking at his watch, smiled at the incredibly punctual diversionist. We drove to a little plaza nearby – Otto’s suggestion – and found an empty bench in an open, well-looked through spot where no one would be able to approach us unnoticed.

  “Here, take a cigarette and cover your mouth when you talk, make believe you’re taking a drag.” Ernst handed Otto his cigarette case and lit one himself. “Annalise, try to talk with your hand next to your mouth as well. If Müller’s or Schellenberg’s people are following us indeed, they won’t be able to read our lips.”

  “Is everything that serious?” Otto raised his eyebrows while taking a puff.

  “Yes. Schellenberg spoke to Annalise today and told her that Müller is digging on me.”

  “Digging what?”

  “Incriminating information, what else?”

  “Like what? Excessive drinking, cursing and amoral relationships with subordinates?” Otto chuckled.

  “No, like negotiations with the enemy.”

  Otto’s hand with the cigarette stopped midway.

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Are you really negotiating with the enemy?”