Faked Passports (14 page)

They talked on about the war until well after four in the morning, when the door was flung open and a fat, bald-headed officer stumped into the room. Wentsich immediately rose and clicked his heels, presenting Gregory as Colonel Claus and the prisoner as Flight-Lieutenant Rogers.

The bald man was a major of Storm-Troopers and rapped out his name, Putzleiger, in reply. He seemed to be in a particularly ill temper—perhaps from having had to get up so early in the morning and, since the S.S. and the Reichswehr were always more or less at loggerheads, his temper was not improved by finding an Army Colonel in his Mess.

But immediately he learned that the
Herr Oberst
was on his way to Goering his manner changed entirely; and when Gregory skilfully managed to imply that he knew the Field-Marshal personally the Major became positively gushing. He asked Wentsich if he had rung through to the station to find out for the
Herr Oberst
how late the Berlin train was likely to be.

Wentsich replied that he had not, but that he had intended to do so later on, nearer the time when the train was due.

“Get through at once, then,” ordered the Major, and picking up the telephone Wentsich asked the exchange downstairs to put him through to the station.

When he had made the inquiry he turned back to them. “It is the train from Dusseldorf that you would catch, which is due in at five-twenty, but they report that it is nearly two hours late
already so I doubt if it will reach Belzig much before seven-thirty.”

Gregory knew how the railway services had gone to pieces in war-time Germany so there was nothing unusual about a train running several hours behind schedule when nearing the end of its journey. He just nodded and said:

“Well, it can't be helped. We'll wait here if we may; but the delay is annoying as I am naturally anxious to be able to report with my prisoner to the Field-Marshal as soon as possible.”

“Yes,” agreed the Major. Then suddenly snapping his fingers he exclaimed: “But I have it! If I had been fully awake I should have thought of it before. The reason I am up so early is that I must see a man in Berlin before he goes on duty this morning. What is to prevent your coming in my car with me?”

As Gregory accepted the offer he felt like laughing; he was so tickled with the idea that an officer of Hitler's Storm-Troopers should actually be providing him with transport back to the Capital which he was so anxious to reach. He had been by no means certain that he would be able to secure accommodation on the train without facing the searching questions of the local railway transport officer and on their arrival in Berlin he knew that at any moment he might be asked to produce identification papers which he had not got. But here was this heaven-sent offer to travel in comfort, and free of charge, with a man whose uniform alone would render Freddie and himself immune from all questioning so long as they were with him.

An orderly appeared with the Major's breakfast and Freddie noticed with interest that in spite of the rationing it consisted of a good-sized gammon-rasher, coffee, rolls, butter and apple
confiture.

With a wave of his hand the Major instructed the orderly to bring two more breakfasts but his politeness did not extend to waiting for his guests. Tucking a paper napkin into his stiff uniform collar he sat himself down at once and lowering his head began to guzzle as though his very life depended upon the speed with which he consumed his food.

In due course two more gammon-rashers and another jug of
Ersatz
coffee arrived, upon which Gregory gave Freddie a swift look and, tucking his paper serviette into the top of his collar, set-to with a most admirable imitation of the Major's manners, that the airman did his best to follow.

“Aren't you going to join us?” Gregory asked Wentsich with
his mouth full of ham and bread-and-butter. But the
Ober-Lieutenant
shook his head.

“I don't go off duty until seven o'clock and I have my breakfast then; but I'll keep you company with another drink in the meantime.”

As soon as they had finished breakfast the fat Major stood up and said: “We'll start at once, then I shall have plenty of time to drop you at the Air Ministry before I keep my appointment.”

“
Danke Schön, Herr Major
” Gregory murmured, but he felt no gratitude at all for this new offer; in fact, it perturbed him exceedingly. He had counted on the Major's dropping them ‘somewhere in Berlin', which would have left them free to follow their own devices; whereas, now that he intended to set them down at the Air Ministry, it meant that they would at least have to make a pretence of inquiring there for Goering. And once inside the Air Ministry with a British Officer in R.A.F. uniform as his companion, Gregory felt that it might be anything but easy to get out again.

Wentsich rang for the Major's car and, having thanked the
Ober-Lieutenant
for his kindness, they went downstairs out into the still dark street where the car was waiting.

It was not a big car, as the Germans were economising petrol and, in fact, no cars were on the roads at all now except those in use for the Fighting Services and official business. Nevertheless, they made a steady thirty miles an hour towards Berlin and did even better when they got on to the broad
Autobahn
between Wittenberg and Potsdam. By ten-past six they were running through the suburbs of the Capital and a quarter of an hour later, in the grey light of dawn, the car pulled up in front of the Air Ministry.

Gregory was about to get out when the Major checked him.

“
Ein Augenblick,
” he called. “It is unlikely that the Field-Marshall will be in his office as early as this. Let us inquire, and if he is not you can come on with me and we can have a second breakfast together after I have done my business.”

Cursing inwardly, Gregory had smilingly to agree. The Major sent his chauffeur into the building to make the inquiry; the man returned to say that the Field-Marshal had not slept in his flat at the Air Ministry that night and it was not known at what hour he would arrive.

“Perhaps we had better wait,” suggested Gregory hopefully, but the Major would not hear of it; insisting that his own business, although important, would take only a few moments,
and that it was senseless for the
Herr Oberst
to kick his heels in a waiting-room when he might be doing justice to a meal.

Gregory agreed to this with another false smile, the car drove on towards the Wannsee quarter and pulled up outside a big private house in a fine residential district. The Major then left them and went inside; but as his chauffeur remained in the car it was impossible for Gregory and Freddie to slip away as they would have liked to have done.

Ten minutes later the Major came out again and beckoned to them from the doorstep. “My business is done,” he called, “and my friend invites you both to breakfast; he is anxious to meet the English flying-officer.”

There was nothing for it but that they should accept the invitation, so they got out and accompanied the Major into the house. The friend proved to be another officer of Black Guards; a fair, thin paunchy man with almost white eyelashes, whose name was Blauhoff. He spoke English well and, while maintaining a smiling, urbane manner, questioned Charlton exhaustively; not so much upon the British Air Force, about which a flying-officer would naturally be averse to disclosing any details, but regarding events in London and the state of England generally.

Freddie stood up to the ordeal well, as he had an unshakable conviction that Britain would win the war and that the Government was neglecting no possible opportunity to mobilise her resources with speed and efficiency.

In consequence, he came out of the business with credit and the German got little satisfaction from him. Even when Blauhoff made sarcastic remarks about the amazingly poor quality of British propaganda Charlton innocently assured him that although there was certainly a great deal of muddle at the Ministry of Information when it was first started that was only to be expected in a country where propaganda had been deemed quite unnecessary up to the outbreak of the war: and that, in any case, much more competent people were now being given jobs there, as a consequence of which his host could rest assured that in the long run it would function with extreme efficiency.

The talk then turned on Finland and the new crisis that had arisen there. News had just come through that the Finns had offered to withdraw their troops if the Russians would do the same; which demonstrated beyond question the Finns' pacific intentions. But Blauhoff said that he did not think that the Russians would accept the offer. In addition to a withdrawal
of the Finnish Army they were demanding the surrender of certain islands in the Gulf of Finland which, together with the bases that they had now established on the coast of Estonia, would give them control of the whole of the Eastern Baltic; and now that they had decided to exert pressure on Finland again it looked as though they had made up their minds to have what they wanted.

Gregory and Freddie did not like their host at all but they could not quarrel with the breakfast he provided. It was an excellent meal and yet one more demonstration of the fact which Gregory already knew: that, however short of food the German people had to go, the Nazi officials denied themselves nothing.

When they had finished they all left the house together. Blauhoff drove off to his office while Putzleiger insisted upon driving his passengers back to the Air Ministry.

It was now just after eight o'clock and, knowing the early hour at which all Germans start work, Gregory thought it quite possible that Goering had by this time arrived at the Air Ministry; that is, if he was in Berlin at all—a point upon which Gregory was by no means certain.

As they pulled up in front of the big building he extended his hand to the Major and thanking him for his kindness began to wish him a hearty farewell; but the Major would have none of it and insisted on accompanying them into the hallway, where Gregory was forced to make his inquiry for Goering in front of his jovial but infuriatingly persistent escort.

One of the uniformed clerks behind the long ‘Inquiry' counter in the big hall informed them that the Field-Marshal had not yet appeared so the Major promptly asked at what time he was expected. An inquiry was put through to one of Goering's secretaries and ten minutes later an answer came down that he would not be at the Ministry at all that day as he was staying at Karinhall, his house outside Berlin, but that anyone who had special business could go there and apply for an interview.

To Gregory's fury Putzleiger immediately said: “Come along, then, I will drive you out to Karinhall; it is no great distance.”

“But really,
Herr Major
” Gregory protested, “I don't feel that we can trespass on your time like this.”

“Not a bit of it, my dear fellow,” came the prompt answer. “Now I'm in Berlin I shall spend the whole day here, but I have nothing at all to do this morning. In being of assistance to you I am serving our great Air Chief, and when you see him you
might perhaps—er—casually mention my name in that connection. In any case it would be a pleasure to see you safely to your destination.”

In vain Gregory tried to persuade the Major that he had done more than enough for them but he declared that he had never seen Goering's famous mansion, Karinhall, and that this was an excellent opportunity for him to do so. Quite clearly he had no intention of being deprived of it or of this chance of getting his name mentioned to Goering as a zealous Nazi, so yet again Gregory had to give in and they set off in the car once more, this time heading for the northern suburbs of the Capital.

Many of the smaller private traders in Berlin had already been forced to close their shops, which made the outer suburbs more than usually dreary and depressing, but they were soon out in the open country and the bright cold air helped to refresh Gregory and Freddie after the exhausting hours of their sleepless night. By half-past nine they arrived at the gates of the great park which surrounded the country-residence that Goering had turned into a palace, rivalling those of the old kings of Prussia, by the almost limitless outpouring of some of the millions which were his share of the loot that the Nazis had taken from the German nation.

At the gates they were halted by grey-clad members of Goering's special bodyguard and had to undergo a most rigorous questioning, but at last Putzleiger was given a pass for himself, his chauffeur and his car to enter the grounds and Gregory one for Charlton and himself to go up to the house. As an added precaution, apparently to see that none of them left the car while driving through the estate, one of the bodyguard jumped on the running-board to accompany them.

They ran up the mile-long drive and the bodyguard directed the chauffeur to a big car-park at one side of the great mansion. As Putzleiger had not come on business he was told that he could not be allowed inside the house and their escort expressed his intention of accompanying him on a walk round the building; while Gregory and Charlton, having been questioned by yet another official, were directed to cross the great open space in front of the mansion and present their pass to the man on the front door. At last they were able to shake the Major off, and having parted from him with many expressions of goodwill they left the car-park to walk across the open expanse of gravel.

It was the first time for many hours that Gregory and Freddie had been alone and that the airman was able to give expression
to the worry he was feeling. As Putzleiger had been present when Gregory had been questioned by the guards on the gate he had had to stick to his story that he was bringing a British Air-officer prisoner whom the Field-Marshal wished to question personally. They could not possibly, therefore, turn round and go out again without entering the building and between the car-park and the front door of the mansion there was no place where they could conceal themselves.