The Separation (47 page)

Our informal consultation took place at my clinic in Harley Street, London, in the morning of the above date.

Mr Sawyer presents as a prepossessing young man, with a neat and tidy appearance. He is well dressed, articulate in speech and thoughtful in demeanour. He is educated to a high level and well read. He is informed on current affairs, even those with which he has no sympathy. His personality struck me as intriguing and complex. As a registered conscientious objector he is obviously a man of principle. I found his company interesting, but at the same time he does not have much sense of humour, he becomes irritated with minor matters and, although I was with him for too short a time to gain any firm evidence, I came to the opinion that he would be morose, obsessive and unwavering about matters on which he forms a view.

However, he is at present preoccupied with more personal concerns and it was on these that we concentrated.

Mr Sawyer is a married man and his wife is expecting their first baby. He has many anxieties about this. Firstly, he tells me that for a long time he doubted that he was the child’s actual father, but he said also that in the recent past he has resolved his worries. His wife, whose pregnancy proceeded fairly normally at first, has recently shown symptoms of toxaemia, with worrying consequences. (She is apparently under regular medical supervision, so I was able to reassure him on that score.) Mr Sawyer, who I gather is about to make a trip abroad, is worried that the baby might be born while he is away. Again, I offered reassurances about modern healthcare.

Mr Sawyer is an identical twin. His brother is on active duty with the RAF, and hence is constantly in danger from enemy action. Mr Sawyer tried to explain to me that he and his brother have an extra ‘bond’

of affection and understanding, which can have unpredictable effects when they are separated by such events as wartime duties, family-disputes, travel abroad and so on. He was not to know that I have made a special study of the psychology of identical twins, so I listened with particular interest to what he had to say. In my view, Mr Sawyer displays normal or familiar concerns about being a monozygotic twin, so once again I was able to reassure him. Complicating their difficult relationship is that Mr Sawyer and his brother fell out with each other after Mr Sawyer married. He harbours suspicions that his brother might be the real father of the unborn child. Mr Sawyer says he has evidence of this, but would not go into details. I felt I could not and should not pursue this.

Last year, Mr Sawyer suffered a serious traumatic physical event, which caused concussion together with related memory-loss. Mr Sawyer says his physical recovery has been good. Of his psychological state, though, he says that he has been suffering recurring episodes similar to the

‘déjà vu’ phenomenon, a form of lucid paramnesia in which he feels he is predicting events that do not in the event turn out to be true. I told Mr Sawyer that delusional incidents often occur as a result of concussion, and he accepted this. I also explained that it was common for such delusional incidents to be plausible and easily confused with real life, at least for a while.

Mr Sawyer told me that his real concern is that whenever he suffers an attack it ends with him returning abruptly to the moment the delusion began, forcing him to question whether or not it has really ended. He also mentioned in particular that he has frequently wondered whether the life he is leading now - i.e. the work he is doing with the Red Cross, the interview he has had with me, and so on - is also one long delusion from which he will suddenly awaken, instantly invalidating everything he is now experiencing. I assured him that it was not and suggested that my writing this letter for him to give to you would be further evidence that it was not, but of course from his point of view it settles nothing in what might be described as his proto-delusional state.

Mr Sawyer seems to be coping well with the condition and tells me that it is a lot better. He believes he has it under control. I can assure you and him that he does not appear to be suffering any deep-rooted psychosis, that he can function well in the normal world and that with time the problem should go away altogether. My only concern would be if, in the short term, Mr Sawyer were to undergo some other kind of shock - of a physical nature, or a psychological one, perhaps related to his expected child or the well-being of his twin brother - then he might suffer a setback in this regard.
Yours very sincerely,

Frank

[Franklin K. Clark MSc; Clinical Psychologist]

22

Holograph notebooks of J. L. Sawyer

xxii

Our plane flew low over the rooftops of Stockholm, a grey-and-silver city whose outlines were delineated by sparkling channels of sunlit water. We landed on the lake called Stora Varten, to the north-east of the centre of the city, in a great plume of white spray that splashed against the cabin portholes like a cascade of pebbles. The flying-boat swooped sharply down and up while we still travelled at speed on the surface of the water, but when the pilot held down the aircraft’s nose the noise briefly increased as the plane was slowed by the friction of the water. My own seat was fairly close to the front of the cabin, looking out through the porthole beneath the starboard wing. The forward part of the cabin was curtained off not far in front of my seat. Once again, we in the rear part of the aircraft had to wait while the dignitaries at the front disembarked. This time it was not as straightforward a matter as it had been on land. I watched as a motor-boat came out from the shore and tied up beneath the wing. The Duke of Kent and his entourage boarded the boat in my full view, but by this time the secrecy surrounding the Duke’s presence was a formality for most of us on the aircraft. By the time the rest of us had disembarked and been taken at high speed to the centre of the city, it was getting dark. Most of the delegates stayed in a large hotel in the city. In the morning we were driven out into the countryside, to a beautiful mansion set in a secluded position, surrounded by forest and overlooking a wide lake. As before, I was assigned to the document team, a job I relished. The important difference on this occasion was that I was placed in overall charge of the team, something I thought a great honour.

However, it was soon apparent that it was not to be a rerun of the earlier meeting. Deputy Führer Rudolf Hess was expected to arrive in Stockholm during the night, but clearly something had gone wrong while he was en route. He did not appear at the first session, which naturally enough meant the talks were not able to start.

While we were settling down in the palatial rooms of the mansion, his absence noted by all, rumours began to spread. At first they were sensational stories: Hess had been sidelined by Goering, Hess’s plane had been shot down, Hitler had ordered Hess not to attend, and so on. From Count Bernadotte’s team of assistants - it turned out that the estate belonged to the count, although he was not present in person we learned that none of the rumours was true and that the talks were merely delayed for a few hours for unavoidable reasons.

With no facts we could rely on, all we could do was wait until the position became clearer. Dr Burckhardt, who obviously knew no more than any of us, counselled patience. We remained in a state of suspension through the morning, took an early lunch, then returned to our various places. Midway through the afternoon, without prior warning, three black Daimler limousines approached the house at some speed. Attracted by the sound and the movement, several members of our translation team moved to the window to see what was happening. Hess was travelling in the first car. As soon as it halted he climbed down, briefly scanned the facade of the house then strode into the building.
xxiii

Within fifteen minutes of Hess’s arrival a plenary session of the conference was called. All the various auxiliaries, like myself, were allowed into the main negotiating hall, the first time I had seen inside. It was set out so that the main tables formed a large equilateral triangle: the British representatives were placed on one side, the Germans on another and the representatives of the neutral governments, the Red Cross and the Quaker negotiators were seated along the third. A huge spray of flowers had been placed in the floor space between the tables.

As we assembled, the auxiliary workers being requested to sit in three rows of chairs placed behind the Red Cross, it was noticeable that all the seats at the German table were occupied but for the one in the centre.

We settled into silence, an air of great expectancy hovering in the room. After we had waited about a minute, Rudolf Hess appeared from a side door and walked briskly into the hall, his face a mask of impassivity, looking to neither side. He was dressed in the uniform of a Luftwaffe officer. We rose to our feet. Hess, taking up his central place at the German table, nodded imperiously and we resumed our seats.

Speaking without the aid of notes, Hess then addressed the delegates.

‘[My good gentlemen, I apologize for my late appearance at this most important meeting,]’ he began. ‘[I fully intended to be here on time and, as our hosts in such a splendid house already know, we representatives from the Reich had already requested that our negotiations should adhere to a strict timetable. My lateness has ruined those plans. I regret if this fact has made it seem, even temporarily, that the German government has lost its enthusiasm for peace with honour to both sides. I can assure you that is not so.

‘[I was, however, delayed in a way that everyone here, when they learn the facts, will agree was unavoidable. Yesterday evening, while I was flying to this country, as dark was falling over the sea, the plane, which I was piloting myself, was attacked by an unknown number of fighter aircraft. Although I did manage to escape unharmed, as you can see, it was not without serious damage to my aircraft. I regret to say that my fellow crewman, Hauptmann Alfred Horn, was killed during the incident. The plane was also damaged to such an extent that I was forced to make an unscheduled landing in Denmark. I have reached here today by other means.

‘[It was not possible for me to identify the nationality of my attackers’ aircraft. They came at me suddenly and from behind and broke off to the side when they thought they had mortally damaged my plane. However, certain suspicions do arise. It could have been that the fighter aircraft were British, patrolling above the sea in search of aircraft like mine. There were in fact British incursions against Germany last night, so bombers were in the vicinity. But British fighters do not normally patrol so far out to sea, unless in this case there was a special reason. Could it be that subversive elements within the British cadres somehow knew that I was planning to be flying last night and that being in opposition to peace they sent out the fighters to ambush me? If so, it would mean there was a breach of security and confidentiality concerning my plans, which could place our talks in jeopardy.]’

Here the Deputy Führer paused, folding his arms across his chest with a theatrical gesture. He deliberately stared around the room, looking slowly at all of us who were there. It was a dreadful moment, because the man’s anger was plain to see. His deep-set eyes beneath the distinctive bushy eyebrows gave out a challenge to everyone. His gaze lingered on the British contingent. Of course, no one acknowledged that they knew of the ambush, because it was inconceivable that anyone there would wish to sabotage the talks.

‘[The other possibility,]’ Hess continued, ‘[would be that the aircraft were sent by a dissident faction from my own side. Under normal circumstances that would constitute high treason. In comparison with it, an attack by the RAF would seem a relatively minor matter, an intelligible act of war. At this moment, though, circumstances within Germany are far from normal. Everyone here today knows that. We all face problems of acceptance of these plans within our caucuses at home. Let us not pretend otherwise. In such a way, and if it is behind what happened to me last night, I am inclined to treat it as a minor matter.

‘[I can assure you once again that I am here with the full authority and agreement of the Leader and that he and I are determined to forge peace with our present enemies, the British. The events of last night have only concentrated my mind more closely on the need for a rapid agreement. I emphasize that the German government does not urge peace from a position of weakness. We seek peace with honour for both sides, based on parity.

‘[I therefore announce unilaterally that I and my negotiators are prepared to reach final agreement in the swiftest way possible, and that the many small problems that arose as we tried earlier to frame our armistice will be treated, at least by us, as minor or insignificant. At the worst we can adjourn areas of small disagreement until a later meeting, in the spirit of reaching a concord about the main issue between us.]’

Hess sat down suddenly. After a moment or two of silence, several members of the neutral representatives uttered growls of agreement and approval. One or two of the British rapped their knuckles on the table. It was a half-hearted response, one that evidently did not please the Deputy Führer. He scowled around for a moment, then looked to his own entourage. They stood up hastily, raised their arms high and began clapping loudly. At this, Hess once again rose to his feet and applause broke out all round the hall. It sounded to me polite rather than enthusiastic, but Hess seemed satisfied with it.

We returned to the document room, to find that while we had been in the plenary session Hess’s aides had delivered pre-pre-pared draft documents for translation and incorporation into the texts from the earlier meeting. I took charge, swiftly allocating tasks to the team, making sure that the non-executive observers from the Red Cross and the Quakers had full access to each worker. I settled down to work on the section of the wording I set aside for myself. The room was soon filled with the purposeful sounds of typewriters. Smoke rose from cigarettes; jackets came off.

Not long afterwards, the familiar sequence of negotiating procedures began to unfold: completed texts were checked, proofread, identified as to context, copied. Once I had approved the translation or précis, it was taken through to the teams of secondary negotiators for their consideration and revision. In the meantime, more texts were being drafted in conference, and they in turn were brought to the document room for our minor revisions and editorial insertions.