Gregory had had only a few seconds’ warning of what to expect, but he rose to the occasion. Halting a yard short of a small table on the far side of which sat a hunched figure, he thrust his right arm out high in the Nazi salute and cried, ‘Heil Hitler!’ Then he stood rigidly to attention.
Hitler acknowledged the salute by raising a shaking hand a few inches from the table, then he held it out. Gregory would have been less astonished had he realised that, from long habit, Hitler shook hands with everyone. Taking the trembling hand gently in his he bowed over it, then resumed his rigid attitude looking straight in front of him.
But the one good look he had had at the Führer’s face had told a tale that had he heard it from others he would have regarded as gross exaggeration. Goering had said that Hitler had aged considerably and was kept going only by the drugs with which Morell injected him thrice daily. Yet, after all, he was only fifty-six and this man looked as if he were well on in his seventies. His hair was thin and, in places, nearly white, his face was grey and furrowed by lines; his eyes were dull and pouched in deep sockets; his body, which had been stalwart, appeared shrunken.
One thing that remained still unimpaired was his voice. Just as it always had, it rasped but held unchallengeable authority. He said, ‘Sit down, Herr Major. What I have heard about you interests me greatly. I understand that you have dealings with occult forces.’
Bormann pushed a chair towards Gregory. With a bow, he sat down on it. Taking another Bormann also sat down, crossed his legs, clasped his hands and began to twiddle his thumbs while keeping his gaze on Gregory’s face with an unwinking stare.
‘Mein Führer,’ Gregory replied. ‘I cannot claim direct communication. But my servant, a Turk whom I brought from the Balkans, unquestionably has the power to call upon entities of the Outer Circle for foreknowledge and guidance.’
‘The Outer Circle,’ Hitler repeated. ‘He is, then, far advanced and must have crossed the Abyss. Continue.’
‘He interested me in these matters some two years ago. Since then we have worked together. He puts himself into a trance and so becomes a focus for intelligences beyond. When in that state he has no knowledge of what he is saying and speaks only in Turkish. I have learned Turkish, so I am able to understand the information he is obtaining from the Seventh Plane and take note of his predictions.’
‘How often are they right?’
‘Invariably, mein Führer. For the past year he has foretold to me accurately every major development of the war.’
‘So! Then I must make use of him. In recent months I have suffered several disappointments in such matters. Predictions made to me have not been fulfilled, so I have dismissed their authors. The Reichsführer’s man, Herr Wulf, has been the most reliable occultist I have consulted, but his master can spare him only occasionally. This man of yours sounds promising and I badly need guidance.’
After a moment Hitler went on, ‘No-one, Herr Major, except my dear friend Martin here, realises the burden that I carry. It is due to me alone that our country has not yet been defeated. I am betrayed on every side. This catastrophe at Remagen! Just think of it! German soldiers neglecting their duty! Leaving the bridge inadequately guarded! The swine! By my orders they will be shot. Every one of them. Every one of them! And their officers shall pay with the lives of their wives and children too! I … I … I …’
He was off. Neither Gregory nor Bormann dared attempt to interrupt him. For over an hour he never ceased talking. Although he became hoarse the words continued to flow in rhythmic periods. They made a kind of harsh song that dulled the senses and led his hearers to nod automatically in agreement. Gregory had often heard tell of Hitler’s hypnotic powers; now he had first-hand experience of them. He had to make a conscious effort to prevent himself from accepting it as a fact that the grey, broken man opposite him was a Messiah who had sacrificed every pleasure in life and been brought to his present wretched state solely by his desire to better the lot of the German people.
He had not wanted war. It had been forced upon him as the only means of saving the country from starvation, anarchy and Communism. He had no wish to be harsh, but he was the father of his millions of children. To spare the rod was to spoil the child. For their own salvation they must be made to fight on until victory was achieved. And by his guidance victory would be achieved. About that there could be no shadow of doubt. But he was betrayed, betrayed, betrayed. Last July the General Staff of the Army had tried to murder him. Him! The true representative of the German people. He had had five hundred of those traitors executed. But those pigs who remained still wished to sell Germany out to her enemies. And so on and so on, and so on.
At last, coughing and choking, he subsided. After a full moment of silence, Gregory nerved himself to take the plunge and said, ‘Mein Führer. The hearts of all true Germans bleed for you in the struggle you have waged for us. And it cannot be denied that the Generals are not showing the defiant spirit that they should in this hour of crisis. That the Americans should have crossed the Rhine virtually unopposed is a terrible thing. How can one account for it except by coming to the conclusion that either the Commander-in-Chief West is no longer capable of fulfilling his duties, or no longer cares what happens? General von Rundstedt is a great soldier, but he is now an old man and one cannot help thinking that the strain of having waged war for so long must have worn him out.’
‘Von Rundstedt!’ Hitler was off again. ‘A great soldier, yes. But you are right. Age has impaired his will to victory and his judgement. He sent General Westphal to me only last week to say that the fortifications in the Siegfried Line are rotten and we cannot hold it. Lies! Lies! Lies! Who should know better about the West Wall than myself? I had it built. I approved all the plans. When it was finished I inspected it. There is no finer system of fortifications in the world. Of course it can be held. It needs only courage and that our soldiers have. They are the finest in the world and loyal to me. All they require is Leadership! Leadership!’
Suddenly he turned to Bormann and croaked, ‘The Herr Major has talked sense. Send a signal to Ob West. Every foot of the West Wall is to be held. Von Rundstedt is relieved of his command. Kesselring is to take over. Kesselring is not one of these lily-livered Army swine, but a Luftwaffe General. He will defend the West Wall for me.’
The impassive Bormann simply nodded and said, ‘It shall be done, mein Führer. I will send the signals right away.’
Hitler staggered to his feet, leaned upon the table and, exhausted by his tirades, muttered to Gregory, ‘You must produce this servant of yours. Bormann will arrange it. We will hold a séance. It may be that you and your man have been sent to give us guidance. To achieve victory we must leave nothing untried. There are powers which can aid us. We cannot afford to ignore them.’
Seeing that the interview was over, Gregory had risen at the same moment. Having again given the Nazi salute, he marched smartly from the room. A moment later Bormann joined him in the passage, and said with a pale smile:
‘You are a rash man, Herr Major, to have offered the Führer advice so freely. Another time it would be wise to confer with me about any opinions you may have before airing them. But in this instance you have done well. For a long time past von Rundstedt has been obstructive and he makes no secret of the fact that he is in favour of asking the enemy for terms. On Kesselring’s showing in Italy he will fight a better defensive battle.’
As Gregory walked back to the Air Ministry he could hardly believe that he had not dreamed his interview with Hitler. The thought that without any hocus-pocus or aid from Malacou he had succeeded in having Germany’s most competent General sacked, and that Hitler should not even have consulted Keitel, Jodl or Burgdorf before taking such a momentous decision, left him utterly dumbfounded. No clearer proof could be needed that the proper place now for the tyrant was a lunatic asylum.
During the next few days further calamities befell the Third Reich. Himmler had again left his headquarters at Prenzlau and was now directing his Army Group from his bed in Dr. Gebhardt’s clinic at Hohenlychen. This direction consisted of Orders of the Day such as: ‘Forward through the mud! Forward through the snow! Forward by day! Forward by night! Forward for the liberation of German soil!’—orders that the relatives of soldiers who were taken prisoner un-wounded were to be shot—and an order to his subordinate who had been left to defend besieged Danzig which led to scores of people, including boy ack-ack gunners, being strung up to the poplar trees that lined the principal streets with placards on their chests that read, ‘I am hanging here because I left my post.’ But such frightfulness did not prevent the ill-armed half-trained troops that now made up the bulk of his Army from being constantly driven back by the Russians, or their capture of Danzig.
Although the Russian advance on the northern front now directly threatened Berlin, disaster in the south-east was felt in the bunker to be an even more shattering blow. Rather than spare Budapest from the horrors of a siege and bombardment, Hitler had sent Sepp Dietrich there with the flower of the Waffen S.S., and they had stubbornly defended the Budaberg until all its beautiful old palaces had been shelled into rubble. Then, on the 13th, the news came through that he had withdrawn the remnants of his Army and was retreating on Vienna.
Two days earlier Hitler had sent detailed orders for a new counter attack. It had taken place on a day of torrential rain and had resulted in a wholesale slaughter of Dietrich’s best troops. When Hitler heard of this and that his most trusted General had ordered a general retreat, his rage knew no bounds. He raved for hours on end and that night issued a decree that as a punishment his own pet regiment, the Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler, should be deprived of the distinguishing armbands that were their special pride, thus inflicting the ultimate disgrace upon men utterly devoted to him.
A few days later it was learned that Dietrich had flatly refused to promulgate the order; then a parcel arrived at the bunker addressed to the Führer. It contained a chamber-pot in which were all Dietrich’s decorations.
It was owing to Hitler’s addled mind being so taken up with these disasters that Gregory put down the fact that he and Malacou were not sent for during the week following his interview with the Führer. By then, for over a fortnight, he had spent several hours each day in the outer bunker and although he was not subject to claustrophobia he found conditions there extremely trying. It was always crowded with people coming and going, some in fear of being the victims of the Führer’s terrible angers, others bewailing his insane orders that it was their duty to transmit to the Army, Navy and Luftwaffe; all harassed by fears for their families during the air-raids or their own ever more uncertain futures. In consequence, by the 17th of the month he felt that he positively must escape for a while and get a little relaxation.
During the past nine months he had often wondered what was happening to Sabine and since his return to Berlin he had several times contemplated taking a few hours off to find out if she was still in the city. So on that Saturday he asked Koller’s permission to absent himself for the afternoon, then set off for the Villa Seeaussicht.
He had not passed through East Berlin since the previous July. It had been depressing enough then, but now it was a revelation of the state to which a great city could be reduced by modern warfare. Although the upper storeys of many of the big buildings in central Berlin had been rendered untenable, their steel, concrete and stone façades, which still stood, saved them from appearing to have been greatly damaged; whereas the older blocks and brick houses, of which by far the greater part of the city consisted, told the full story.
The great highway through Charlottenburg was now a broad defile between two endless mounds of jagged rubble. Hardly a building had its roof intact; not an unbroken window was to be seen. Many of the side streets were now impassable; on either hand lay acre upon acre of burnt and blackened ruins. People with gaunt faces and sunken eyes moved among them, wearily clambering over charred beams and emerging from holes at the roadside that led to deep, crowded shelters or cellars wherein they dwelt like half-starved rats in filth and squalor.
In the suburbs along the Havel the picture was, by comparison, much less terrible, although they had also suffered severely. Here and there houses had been burnt out or partially wrecked. In many gardens there lay uprooted trees, the glass in porches and conservatories had been shattered, gates swung askew on broken hinges and every few hundred yards gaps had been torn in walls and fences. And when, at last, Gregory came in sight of the villa he was greatly worried to see that its upper storey had been blown to pieces.
Since Sabine had hidden him when he was on the run he had no fear that on his turning up again in the uniform of a Luftwaffe Major she might betray him, or that Trudi would do so—if they were still alive and there. But Goering had said he believed von Osterberg to have survived. It was therefore possible that he too was living in the house, and for Gregory to run into him would be disastrous; so he approached the villa with caution.
As he came nearer he saw with relief that although all the windows, bar one downstairs, were broken and had been boarded over, through that one he could make out a pot of hyacinths, which implied that the house was still occupied. Having made certain that no-one was about, he slipped through the side entrance, took the path behind the garage and rang the back door bell. A moment later it was opened by Trudi.
On recognising him her mouth fell open with surprise, but he smiled at her and said, ‘I’m not a ghost, Trudi, and I’m delighted to see you safe and well. I only hope your mistress is, too. Is she about?’
Trudi returned his smile. ‘Not at the moment, mein Herr. She is at the doctor’s. But she should soon be back and, I am sure, will be most happy to see you. Please to come inside.’
‘How about the Herr Graf?’ Gregory asked. ‘Is he still living here; or anyone else?’
She shook her head. ‘Nein, mein Herr. For a long time past we have been living here alone.’
‘That’s good. But what’s this about the gnädige Baronin having gone to the doctor? I trust it’s not for anything serious.’
‘Nein, mein Herr. Just a slight indisposition from which she has been suffering for the past few weeks.’
Reassured, Gregory entered the house and followed Trudi through to the sitting room. Several large sections of plaster had come down from the ceiling and there were damp stains on the walls, but otherwise it was clean and tidy. Trudi told him then about the house being hit. It had happened in September, but fortunately the bomb had not been a large one; so only the top storey had been wrecked and no-one injured. Gregory was still talking to her when, ten minutes later, he heard the slam of the front door, and as he got up from the sofa Sabine came into the room.
She did not appear ill and was as lovely as ever, but he noted a look of strain on her face. The instant she saw him it disappeared and with a cry of joy she ran to embrace him. After their first greetings were over she stroked his smart uniform and asked how he had come by it.
‘That’s a long story,’ he smiled, ‘and I’ll tell you it later. The essential points are that after six months in a prison camp I succeeded in getting to Goering, and he has given me a job sticking pins in maps at the Air Ministry.’
‘Darling Gregory,’ she laughed. ‘For audacity you are unbeatable.’
He shrugged. ‘Oh, once I succeeded in getting an interview with him it wasn’t difficult. He is an old friend of mine.’
‘What! Do you mean that he actually knows you to be an Englishman?’
Gregory nodded. ‘Yes; but he also knows that I was always pro-Fascist. I told him that I had been put in prison in my own country and that having escaped I felt so bitter about the way I’d been treated that I decided to offer my services to Germany; and that having managed to reach Germany I had had the ill luck to be arrested and again put into prison.’
This mendacious account of himself corresponded sufficiently closely with that he had given Sabine in July for her to accept it without comment; but she asked, ‘How is your wound?’
He had been ready for that and, as he was no longer in a situation where expediency demanded that he should give the impression that he longed to make love to her, he replied with a laugh, ‘Healed perfectly; but don’t let that give you any naughty ideas. I’ve come only as an old friend, to find out if you were still here and had escaped injury in the air-raids.’
She made a rueful face. ‘That’s not very complimentary, but perhaps it’s just as well. For the past few weeks I haven’t been at all fit; so for the moment I’m rather off being made love to.’ Before he could ask her what was wrong with her she added quickly, ‘I see that silly Trudi didn’t provide you with a drink while you were waiting for me. I’ll go down to the cellar and fetch a bottle of wine.’
When, a few minutes later, she returned with the bottle of champagne, he saw that she had brought only one glass and he asked in surprise, ‘Aren’t you going to join me?’
As she filled the glass for him, she shook her head. ‘No; for the time being I’m not allowed alcohol.’
‘Really!’ He raised his eyebrows. Then a possible connection between her surprising abandonment of her favourite pastime and her no longer drinking suddenly struck him and he added, ‘Surely you don’t mean …?’
Tears came into her lovely eyes and she nodded. ‘Yes. I wouldn’t tell anyone else, but I can tell you. I’ve been an awful fool. I hate and despise myself. Of course, from fear they’ll never live through another night practically every woman in Berlin has become promiscuous, and I suppose at least half of them are in the same state as I’m in. But that’s no consolation. I feel so horribly unclean—like a leper. When I realised what had happened I had half a mind to kill myself.’
They were sitting side by side on the sofa. Flopping over towards him, she buried her face in his chest and burst into a fit of uncontrollable sobbing.
Stroking her hair, he tried to soothe her and gradually, as her sobs eased, she told him how she had come by her misfortune.
‘It was just a month ago. I went in the afternoon for Kaffeetrinken with a friend. She was not in her apartment, but her son was. He told me that his mother had been suddenly called away because her sister had been injured in an air-raid, and that she would not be back that night; but he insisted on making coffee for me. He was only a boy; a child almost, barely fifteen. But he was in uniform. He had been called up to join a Hitler Youth Battalion that in two days’ time was being sent to fight the Russians. I’ve never cared much for young men; particularly inexperienced ones. You know that. And when he started to make love to me I hadn’t the least intention of having anything to do with him. But he pleaded with me desperately. All the usual things about my being the loveliest person he’d ever seen and the rest of it. That wouldn’t have moved me, but what did was his saying that in a week or two he would almost certainly be dead; that it would be terrible to die never having had the experience, and if I’d let him he’d have something wonderful to think of when he lay gasping out his life. What could I do, darling? What could any woman with any decent feelings do but let him have her?’
After another bout of sobbing, Sabine went on. ‘Having reluctantly decided to let him, I felt it would be mean not to give him as good a time as I could; so I let him undress me, then he stripped and we got into his mother’s bed. I’d expected it to be all over quickly, but he recovered in no time and begged for more. After that, I confess, I rather enjoyed it, so we stayed there for more than two hours. By that time it was dark and an early air-raid started; so I was afraid to leave the building and, as the apartment was on the ground floor of a big block, we were fairly safe there. If only I had gone home I should have taken the usual precautions. But I stayed on and slept with him all night. Then … then ten days later I found that the little swine had lied to me. I hadn’t been his first experience at all. He’d had some little bitch, or perhaps several, and must have been riddled with it.’
‘You poor darling,’ Gregory murmured. ‘It’s a horrid business, but nothing to be really worried about. The same thing is happening to thousands of men and women all over Europe every day now that this accursed war has separated so many people from their wives, husbands and sweethearts. And don’t regret having given yourself so generously to that wretched boy. If you are receiving proper treatment you’ll be as right as rain again in a few weeks.’
Sabine sat up, took a little embroidered handkerchief from her bag and mopped her eyes with it. ‘Yes. That’s what my doctor says. But in the meantime it’s simply ghastly. As I mustn’t drink anything I have to refuse all invitations to lunch or parties, in case people suspect what is wrong with me; and God knows if I’ll ever be able to look at a man in future without being scared that the same thing will happen again.’
‘Talking of men,’ Gregory said, ‘I heard a rumour that von Osterberg is still alive. Is it true?’
‘Yes. Kurt had the luck to make a mess of things. When he shot himself the bullet only fractured his skull. He was in hospital for three months; then, as there was no real evidence that he had been involved in the plot, Speer got him a clearance so that he could go back to his job making explosives for the Secret Weapons.’
‘Have you seen him lately?’
‘No. It seems, though, the old boy had developed a really serious passion for me. As soon as he was out of hospital he came here several times and implored me to let him come back and live here. But the purge after the conspiracy was so thorough that there was not the least likelihood of its starting up again, so Ribb said there was no point in my keeping tabs on Kurt any longer. That let me out, and I politely but firmly refused to play. He had gone back to his quarters in the underground laboratory near Potsdam and, as far as I know, he’s still there.’
Gregory told her about his car smash and how he had been sent to Sachsenhausen as Prince Hugo. Then he said how sorry he was that he had wrecked her car and assured her that he would pay her for it as soon as that became possible.
She shrugged. ‘You don’t have to. I got the money for it out of the insurance people. Thank God you said at your trial that you had stolen it. When first I heard what had happened I was terribly scared; but I might have known, darling, that you would have the wit to think up some story that would prevent anyone from finding out that I had been hiding you here.’
‘That was the very least I could do. But we had planned that the car should be returned to you, so that you could use it to get away if you decided to leave Berlin.’
‘You needn’t worry on that score either. Now that nobody can get any petrol cars can be bought for a song. With only a small part of the insurance money I was able to buy another, and I’ve still a good supply of petrol.’
‘In that case, what on earth induces you to remain here? If I’d been you I’d have got out of this ghastly city weeks ago.’
Sabine sighed and shook her head. ‘I’ve often thought of leaving, but I hated the idea of not having my own home and I had no other except in Budapest. With the Russians in Hungary to go there was out of the question, and now my lovely little palace in Buda will have been destroyed with all the others.’
‘I know; to give orders that the Budaberg should be held and have it reduced to rubble was another of Hitler’s crimes. But, my dear, you really must leave. Within a month, perhaps less, the Russians will be in Berlin. If you are still here, God alone knows what will happen to you. It’s too frightful to contemplate.’
Again she shook her head. ‘I can’t leave yet. The best specialist in Berlin is looking after me and I wouldn’t be able to find another half as good. My every thought is set on getting well again; so I am determined to remain until I have completed my treatment.’
In vain Gregory begged her to alter her mind. Then, finding her adamant, he changed the subject and told her of some of his experiences while at Sachsenhausen. Later they had supper together. Her larder was nowhere near as lavishly stocked as it had been in July but black-marketeers were still bringing her palatable items from the country, so they had an enjoyable meal.
Afterwards Gregory said that he must get back to the Air Ministry and, since she was so depressed and lonely, he promised to come out again to see her as often as he could; but he told her he doubted if he would be able to get away from his duties more than once a week.
It took him over two hours to make his way through the blackout to central Berlin and when he did reach the Air Ministry, a little after eleven o’clock, he found Koller waiting for him in his cubicle. In a great state of agitation the elderly General told him that the Führer had asked for him and his servant over an hour ago. Having collected Malacou, they hurried up the street to the Chancellery.
Down in the bunker Gregory was for the second time taken through the partition in the passage beyond which only the very senior members of the Führer’s entourage were permitted to go. There, as before, Bormann was sitting at the narrow conference table. He told Koller that his presence was not required, then said to Gregory:
‘The Führer has ordered that you and your man should hold a séance for him. But I wish to warn you again that you are not to air your own opinions, as you did in the case of von Rundstedt.’
‘Herr Parteiführer,’ Gregory replied, ‘I shall translate only what my man may say when he is under the control of occult forces. But I will keep my eye on you, and should he begin to make any prediction that is displeasing to you just close your eyes for a second, then I will refrain from translating further, or alter the sense of what he has said.’
Bormann gave a pale smile and replied, ‘I am glad that we understand one another, Herr Major, Go out now and wait in the sitting passage until I call you.’
It was two hours before the summons came and during that time Gregory was as near panic as he had ever been. He tried to take comfort from the fact that, although pale, Malacou seemed calm and unafraid. But there was no way of disguising his markedly Jewish features and in them lay a terrible danger. It was possible that the very sight of them might drive the mad Führer into one of his fits of ungovernable rage, in which he would not listen to assurances or explanations. Should he decide on the instant that a Jew had been brought to him, before either Gregory or Malacou could open their mouths he might order them to be taken up to the Chancellery garden and shot.
Gregory wondered if that possibility could have occurred to his companion and thought probably not; for during their time in Berlin Malacou had played his role as a soldier servant admirably, happy in the obscurity that he considered his best protection, confident that by doing so he would, in due course, be able to strike a great blow in revenge for the persecution of his race, and armoured against fear for himself by his conviction that he would outlive Hitler.
At last the almost unbearable strain ended. Bormann opened the door in the partition and beckoned, then led them through the little ante-room to the Führer’s study. With a silent prayer of thanksgiving Gregory realised that this must have been one of Hitler’s good days for, although his face was shrunken and blotchy, he looked calmer and more normal than the first time Gregory had seen him.
The moment Gregory had pronounced his ‘Heil Hitler!’ he went straight on, ‘Mein Führer, permit me to present my servant Ibrim Malacou. His home is in Istanbul but so convinced was he that you had been sent to regenerate the world that he left it voluntarily to fight for the great cause.’
Having got out his statement, Gregory waited for a moment that seemed an eternity. Hitler was just finishing a cup of tea and a cream bun. Still chewing the last mouthful he smiled, shook hands with them both and said to Malacou, ‘Germany has always been the friend of Turkey and it is good to meet Turks who are our friends. You are very welcome, Herr Malacou.’ Then he told them to sit down and to proceed.
Like all the rooms in the bunker, except those that had been made by dividing its broad central passage, Hitler’s study was not more than twelve feet square, so they were decidedly cramped. Malacou moved a chair so that he could sit in it with his back to the door, Bormann sat near but sideways on to him, and Gregory remained standing at the side of the Führer’s desk so that he faced them both. He then made his usual passes at Malacou.
They were by now so used to their act that they slid into it easily and, in anticipation of this critical moment, they had gone with great care into the question of what Hitler was to be told. As Malacou’s duties while at the Air Ministry had been very light, he had continued to spend the greater part of his time checking and improving the results of the astrological calculations he had made at Karinhall, and they had qualified these by the information about personalities and events that Gregory had obtained from day to day.
For a few minutes after Malacou had closed his eyes he remained silent, then he began to mutter and gradually his mutterings became intelligible to anyone who could understand Turkish. His voice took on a high shrill note and Gregory started to interpret his utterances, which were mostly brief and at times were punctuated by spells of silence.
As previously arranged, some of the things he said had no bearing at all on the situation but appeared to be communings with the spirits about friends of his who were dead and soon to be born again in a new incarnation; but Hitler showed no impatience because these were skilfully interspersed with predictions about the course of the war.
During the three-quarters of an hour that the séance lasted Malacou’s forecasts of general interest were: That between five and seven days hence General Montgomery’s army would cross the Rhine in force and there would follow several weeks of desperate fighting in the West. German losses would be extremely heavy and some ground would have to be given up to the British and the Americans; but on the Northern front there would be an improvement in the situation. Within a few days the Russian onslaught would be checked and for at least three weeks they would make no further advance of importance. The coming day would be a very trying one for the Führer. He would receive two communications. One would be the request of one of his most trusted Army Commanders to be relieved of his command; the other a letter from one of the pillars of the Nazi regime stating that he had lost faith in victory; but the Führer was advised not to take the letter too seriously, because the writer had a great affection for him and would remain loyal to him to the end. It also appeared that within a week the Führer would decide to make an important change in the High Command of the Army by dismissing one of his Generals. Lastly, in mid-April there would come to him from an unexpected source great consolation for the trials with which he was being afflicted and support in his struggle, but whence this would spring it was not yet possible to divine.
Deliberately, in order to win Hitler’s confidence, Gregory had made the general tone of this first occult communication as optimistic as possible, by suppressing several of Malacou’s bleaker predictions. At the mention of the two communications he was to receive the following day Hitler had temporarily gone off the deep end and raved about the betrayals of which he was constantly the victim; but after ten minutes he had subsided, and at the end of the session he was obviously pleased by what he had been told. Turning to Gregory, he said:
‘Herr Malacou several times mentioned dead people he has known who are shortly to be born again. Do you also believe in reincarnation?’
‘Most firmly, mein Führer,’ Gregory replied promptly; which was the truth, for he had frequently discussed it with Erika and had become fully convinced. Moreover, it was with a definite intention that he had told Malacou to mention the subject several times in his ramblings. Keeping his eye on Bormann in case he indicated disapproval Gregory added, ‘To anyone who accepts the survival of the ego after death, which I regard as beyond doubt, reincarnation is the only logical belief, and the wise men of all nations have taken it as a guide for their actions.’
Hitler nodded. ‘Several people have told me that they hold that opinion, Herr Major, and the subject is a most interesting one. Sometime we must talk of it together.’ With a friendly wave of thanks he then dismissed them.
When they reached the conference room Bormann signed to Malacou to go through to the far side of the partition, then turned to Gregory. ‘This Army Commander who is asking to be relieved. I saw your hesitation when you spoke of it. You held back something. You know who he is. Tell me.’
There had been other occasions on which Malacou, when uttering on a subject, had suddenly been inspired to add particulars of which he had not previously been aware. That had happened in this case, and it had given Gregory a very nasty moment.
‘You are right, Herr Parteiführer,’ he replied. ‘It is Herr Himmler; but I thought it more tactful not to name him.’
Bormann glowered. ‘It’s as well for you that you did not. Are you sure of this?’
Gregory shrugged. ‘How can I be? I can only say that I have confidence in the Turk’s predictions.’
‘I see. Well, this must be stopped. At the moment, if Himmler were free to come frequently to Berlin he would exert a bad influence on the Führer.’
As Goering had told Gregory that Bormann was scheming to replace him as Hitler’s successor and that Bormann, regarding Himmler as his most serious rival, had got him out of the way by securing for him the command of an Army Group, Gregory knew what was really in Bormann’s mind. But he simply bowed and said, ‘Herr Parteiführer, you may rely on me to accept your guidance at all times.’
The following afternoon the storm broke. Guderian, the Chief of the General Staff, arrived with a letter from Himmler in which he asked to be relieved of his command on the grounds of ill health. A conference was called and those on the far side of the partition heard a battle royal take place, with shouts and screams, between the Führer and his General.
Later, Gregory learned that Guderian had defied Hitler and told him that Himmler had proved such a disaster as an Army Group Commander that he had forced him to offer his resignation, then insisted that it be accepted. Keitel and Jodl had, as usual, played for safety by saying the Führer was the best judge, while Bormann had insinuated that this was another plot to weaken the Führer’s control of the armed forces. After hours of wrangling Hitler, near collapse, had got up from the table and, mumbling that he would ‘think it over’, staggered off to his room.
On the following day Gregory heard about the other letter. It had been from Albert Speer. In it he had stated his conviction that Germany’s situation was now hopeless, so an armistice should be asked for in order to save Germany’s cities from further bombing and conserve as much industrial plant as possible to aid in Germany’s recovery. The letter invoked another outburst of self-pity in the Führer and vituperation against the young Minister who had made his dreams of magnificent buildings and splendid autobahns come true. But he took no action.
Malacou had told Gregory that it was his belief that Speer was now actively plotting to put an end to Hitler and as that, above all things, was what they desired they had at the séance done their best to protect him. One thing was certain. He was the only decent and honest man in the whole of Hitler’s court.
On March 22nd Hitler suddenly made up his mind about Himmler and, despite Bormann’s endeavours to prevent him, accepted his resignation.
Gregory immediately took alarm; for that could lead to Himmler visiting the bunker and it was possible that he might bring Grauber with him. He endeavoured to calm his fears by the thought that at least for some days that was unlikely. But, with Koller’s consent, he used the private line from the Air Ministry to Karinhall to telephone Goering and also, with apparent casualness, took the first opportunity that offered to discuss the results of Himmler’s resignation with his representative at Führer H.Q., the horrid little ex-jockey, Obergruppenführer Fegelein.
From both sources he received reassurances. Himmler had had a breakdown and was unlikely to leave the clinic at Hohenlychen for some time, while Grauber was remaining on the Russian front to keep an eye on General Heinrici, who had been appointed as Himmler’s successor in command of the Army Group.
Yet Hitler, with his now chronically illogical assessments, having decided on Guderian’s advice that Himmler must be replaced, suddenly made up his mind to get rid of the unpopular but extremely able Panzer expert too; so overnight Guderian was replaced as Chief of Staff by Colonel-General Krebs.
On the 24th General Montgomery launched his great offensive on the lower Rhine and the Luftwaffe’s attempts to prevent the crossing proved hopelessly ineffective. When the news came through Hitler sent for the unfortunate Koller, and so lashed him with his tongue for an hour without stopping that when the poor old man emerged from the Führer’s sanctum he was white, shaking and in tears.
By then the Remagen bridgehead was thirty miles deep, and further north the British and Americans were streaming over the new crossings in their tens of thousands. In a frantic effort to stave off complete defeat another spate of murderous decrees was rushed out. That issued by Keitel read:
In the name of the Führer.
Any officer who aids a subordinate to leave the combat zone unlawfully, by carelessly issuing him a pass or other leave papers citing a simulated reason, is to be considered a saboteur and will suffer death. Any subordinate who deceitfully obtains leave papers or who travels with false leave papers will, as a matter of principle, suffer death.
And General Blaskowitz, the Commander of Army Group H, in Holland, supplemented it by issuing a decree of his own, announcing that any soldier found away from his unit who declared himself to be a straggler looking for it should be summarily tried and shot.
The Replacement Army was scraped to the bottom of the barrel and new units of teenagers or sexagenarians, for whom it had not yet been possible even to find uniforms, were sent up to the front. Their pleas that if captured while still in civilian clothes they would shot as franc-tireurs were ignored, and they were being driven into battle by S.D. men threatening to mow them down with machine guns from behind.
From von Below Gregory learned that Hitler had sent for Speer and in a demonaic spate of words that had gone on for hours poured out his reaction to the Minister of Armament’s letter. The Führer had said, ‘If the war is to be lost, the nation will also perish. This fate is inevitable. There is no need to consider the basis of even the most primitive existence any longer. On the contrary, it is better to destroy even that, and to destroy it ourselves. The nation has proved itself weak, and those who remain after the battle are of little value; for the good have fallen.’ In vain Speer pleaded that, for humanity’s sake, those who survived should at least be left the material means by which they could sustain life. Hitler would not listen and ordered Speer to go away on permanent leave. Speer had refused, saying that it was his duty to remain at his post.
When he had gone Hitler, trembling and purple in the face, issued further orders through Bormann. As the Allies advanced, everything in their path was to be destroyed: factories, railway junctions, power stations, houses; everything was to be blown up or burnt down. Nothing was to be left. Since the German people had betrayed him they were not entitled even to the means to continue to exist after Germany’s defeat.
Next day, March 30th, as so often happened the storm was succeeded by calm. After the daily conference Hitler sent for Gregory and told him that he wished him to accompany him on his late afternoon walk round the Chancellery garden. Together they ascended the stairs at the far end of the bunker and emerged into the spring sunlight. Immediately they began their promenade Hitler said, ‘Tell me your reasons for believing in reincarnation.’
‘Mein Führer, they are quite simple,’ Gregory replied, and proceeded to produce the arguments he had thought out as most likely to appeal to his megalomaniac companion.
‘No sensible person can believe in the Christian God or, for that matter, any personal God. The very conception of a universal resurrection followed by a judgement, awarding all of us either perpetual bliss or consigning us to eternal torment, on our conduct during one short span of life, is absurd. One has only to think of those who are born half-witted or as the children of criminal parents. What chance in life have they? To condemn such unfortunates because they had led evil lives would be a travesty of justice. And what of young people who die when still in their teens? Are they to be held fully responsible for their actions? Were you or I brought before such a tribunal we should feel only contempt for a God who had given life to men on such arbitrary terms; so the teaching that He exists must be false.’
‘I agree. I agree,’ Hitler said huskily.
‘Yet,’ Gregory went on, ‘that the spirit which animates man continues to exist after death none of us who knows anything about the occult can doubt. If, therefore, there is no personal God to whom our spirits are accountable, it follows that we are our own masters and responsible only to ourselves for our acts down here. But nothing stands still. The declaration of Gautama Buddha, when he said that everything of which we are aware is in a state of either growth or decay, cannot be challenged. It applies not only to vegetable and animal life, but also to mountains, the earth itself and every heavenly body in the universe. Since it is a universal law our personalities must also be subject to it. This could not be more clearly demonstrated, mein Führer, than by giving only a moment’s consideration to your own personality. One thinks of your wisdom as a law giver, your great abilities as a strategist, your extraordinary flair for creating beautiful buildings, your immense knowledge of every aspect of life of the people over whom you rule. All these abilities could not conceivably have been accumulated in the short space of fifty-odd years.’
‘I see that. Yes, you are right.’
‘Between your mind and that of an Australian aborigine there lies an immense gulf; and the explanation of that is simple. Such a man can have lived only a few lives whereas, in different bodies, as men or women, rich or poor, healthy or crippled, you have had many hundreds; and in each you have progressed, learning some lesson which is stored up in your subconscious. It is rarely given to people to be able to recall their former lives, but the lessons they have learned remain. How can one doubt that it is owing to this vast experience that in your present incarnation you have emerged as the genius that everyone acknowledges you to be?’
At that moment Bormann came hurrying across the garden, a piece of paper in his hand. Having given his ‘Heil Hitler!’ he said, “Mein Führer, only my duty and my devotion to you give me the courage to make this report. But it would be wrong to conceal even the worst news from you. This signal has just come in from Field Marshal Model. His entire army has been cut off in the Ruhr, and he asks permission to fight his way out.’
The blotches on Hitler’s face stood out more clearly as it drained of blood. Suddenly he screamed, ‘Abandon the Ruhr! Never! Never! Dolts! Fools! Traitors! These Generals should be burnt over a slow fire for their cowardice and crimes. Model is to hold the Ruhr to the last man. If they are driven in, as the circle narrows they are to destroy everything. Everything. What good will Krupps be to us if we lose the war? The plants must be blown up—not one brick or girder left upon another.’
Ignoring Gregory, he trudged off with Bormann, still shouting at the top of his voice and wildly waving his good arm.
Speer was again summoned, but remained in the outer bunker for some time before Hitler would see him. He told the officers there that nothing would induce him to carry out the Führer’s orders for the destruction of everything in Germany which could help those of the German people who survived to carry on their lives somehow and, eventually, enjoy prosperity again. On the contrary, he was using his own immense powers as the Controller of German Industry and Labour to ensure that everything possible should be saved from the wreck. He had ordered that no more explosives were to be made and that as the Allies advanced every piece of undamaged plant was to be handed over to them intact. To check the fanatical S.S. in attempts to enforce the orgy of destruction the Führer had decreed, he was now issuing hand grenades and sub-machine guns to the staffs of all factories and installations, so that they could prevent the sabotaging of the plants on which their future would depend.
When Speer faced his master and disclosed what he was doing, yells and curses rang through the bunker; yet when Speer emerged from the ordeal, he left the bunker still a free man. Gregory felt that this miracle could be attributed only to divine intervention.
Of the satraps who visited the bunker in these days, the most frequent were Goebbels and Ribbentrop. The little doctor, with his twisted foot and twisted mind, although normally concerned only with inventing endless clever lies and distortions of fact to boost the morale of the German people, could at times show an unscrupulous brutality rivalling that of the worst of the other Nazis. On one occasion, infuriated by the mass air-raid on Dresden, he demanded that the Führer should repudiate the Geneva Convention, order the massacre of forty thousand Allied airmen prisoners as a reprisal, and bring into use two poison gases that had terrible effects on their victims.
Hitler, so his doctors said, was subject to a pathological blood lust. It is in any case certain that he always became happy and excited after ordering an execution; so the idea of this wholesale slaughter made a strong appeal to him. But Koller hastily sent for Goering who, with the aid of Doenitz and several Generals, all of whom feared mass reprisals on the prisoners of war in their own Services, succeeded in dissuading Hitler from carrying out this heinous crime.
Ribbentrop gave Gregory an extremely nasty moment; for one day they came face to face in the outer passage. It was two and a half years since Gregory had been a guest at a small supper party given for the Reichsaussenminister at a nightclub in Budapest, but from the stare he gave Gregory it was obvious that he was trying to remember where he had previously met him. Fortunately, Major Johannmeier, General Burgdorf’s assistant, distracted Ribbentrop’s attention by coming up just then and saying that his Chief would like a word with him while he was waiting to see the Führer. After that Gregory always kept a wary eye out for Sabine’s ex-lover and, whenever he came to the bunker, stayed well out of his way.
For some time past, Gregory had been very worried by the thought of Sabine; for, knowing her unhappy state, he had had every intention of keeping his promise to go out and spend a few hours with her at least once a week. But once he had succeeded in interesting Hitler in Malacou’s predictions and the subject of reincarnation he had felt that in no circumstances must he again leave his post for any length of time, in case he or both of them were sent for. Much as he owed Sabine, the war, and the millions involved in it, had to be put first.
To excuse his neglect of her he had several times tried to telephone, but the exchanges and lines in Berlin were constantly being destroyed by the nightly air-raids so he had failed to get through; and he felt it too risky to write, because a great part of the mail was being opened by Gestapo men at the post offices in a witch hunt for grumblers and pacifists, and he did not want it to be known that he was acquainted with her.
During the first days of April the Anglo-American advance continued unchecked, but the Russian front remained quiet and, although any piece of bad news never failed to bring on one of Hitler’s screaming fits, there were no special excitements in the bunker. Then, on the night of the 5th, he again sent for Gregory and Malacou.
The procedure was as before and the gist of Malacou’s ramblings as translated by Gregory were as follows. The Russians were building up for another major offensive which would be launched in the middle of the month. The Ruhr must be written off, because Field Marshal Model was surrounded by traitors and they would force him to surrender. There were traitors too among the senior members of the Government; at least two of them were secretly in touch with the enemy and endeavouring to bring about a peace; but they would not succeed. In spite of the present successes of the Anglo-American Armies they would never reach Berlin, and they were shortly to receive a blow of the greatest magnitude, which could alter the whole political outlook.
Hitler had been crouching over his desk, looking extremely ill. At this point his head suddenly fell forward and, although he made an effort, he was unable again to raise it.
Springing up from his chair, Bormann ran to him and shouted to Gregory to go and get Dr. Morell. Malacou, arousing from his state of semi-trance, opened his eyes and Bormann told him to ‘get out’.
Morell occupied two rooms in the further bunker and rarely left them, so Gregory had no difficulty in finding him and telling him what had happened; then they hurried back to Hitler’s study. There the slovenly, cringing old doctor gave his Führer a shot in an arm that was already black with the marks of injections. Within a few moments he recovered, fixed his dull eyes on Gregory and said:
‘Your Turk is a wonderful medium. I am psychic myself, you know; so I can readily recognise the true gift in others. In my case it takes the form of remarkable intuition, and his prediction that the Anglo-Americans will never reach Berlin accords with my own firm belief. I am tired now, so we’ll not call him back. But I’ll send for you both again soon … quite soon.’
Waiting for him upstairs in the vast Egyptian-style hall on the ground floor of the Chancellery, Gregory found Malacou. With his dark eyes gleaming the Jew asked in Turkish, ‘Is the swine dead?’
Gregory shook his head. ‘No. His resistance is extraordinary. That unsavoury old brute who looks after him is the worst kind of crook, but he gave him a shot that brought him round almost immediately.’
Malacou muttered a few Hebrew curses. Then, as they left the building, he took something from his pocket. An air-raid was in progress and at that moment a bunch of incendiary bombs exploded in the street some forty yards away. By their light Gregory saw that Malacou was holding in his hand a long piece of cord with a noose at one end. His curiosity aroused, he asked:
‘What is that?’
‘A garotte.’ Malacou smiled. ‘I carry it as a talisman for our protection, and a focus by which I can draw down power. If I did not take something of the kind with me to these séances, at a vital moment Hitler’s own evil radiations might destroy my contact with the Outer Circle.’
‘What is there so special about that piece of cord to give it such a potent occult significance?’ Gregory enquired.
Malacou gave a harsh laugh. ‘Astrology alone could not enable me to make such accurate predictions. Now and then I must make an offering to … well, the source of my power. In normal circumstances one would use a sacrificial knife and that would become the talisman. But as things are I would not be allowed to take a knife down into the bunker; so instead I carry the garotte. And it is highly charged, because I have recently used it several times to take life.’
Halting in his tracks Gregory grasped the Satanist by the arm, swung him round and exclaimed in horror, ‘D’you mean that when you sometimes go out on your own at night it is to murder people in the blackout?’
Shaking off his grasp, Malacou retorted, ‘If I had we would be far better protected. But, unfortunately, I have not the courage. For my victims I make do with animals.’
‘What! Cats and dogs?’
‘Yes. I lure them with a little food, throw my coat over them and carry them to the nearest bombed-out church, then offer them up by strangling them with the garotte.’
‘Good God, how revolting,’ Gregory exclaimed.
‘Your scruples are foolish,’ Malacou retorted sharply, ‘and this is no concern of yours. Be content to make use of my contacts with the Timeless Ones to bring to ruin our common enemy.’
By then they had reached the Air Ministry. As Gregory started to turn into it the Satanist wished him an abrupt good-night and walked on.
For a few moments Gregory remained there and was almost sick at the thought of the bestial act that the colleague whom fate had forced upon him was about to commit. He was in half a mind to follow and stop Malacou; but the thing that mattered above all else was to put an end to Hitler and, if these ghoulish rites performed during the hours of darkness might contribute to that, he realised that his duty to humanity lay in ignoring them. Sick at heart, he went down to the basement of the Air Ministry.
Next day Hitler again sent for Gregory to walk with him in the Chancellery garden, and again questioned him about reincarnation.
Had Gregory been talking to anyone else, he would have said that with every life in which a person’s good deeds exceeded their bad ones they progressed; and, although at times they might be sent back to hardship and poverty in order to learn humility or some other special lesson, as a general principle they were born into a higher status where they would have greater responsibilities. And that, on the other hand, should they abuse their powers to inflict grief and suffering on others, in their next several incarnations they were sent back to face situations in which they would be the victims of similar tyrannies themselves.
But he was no unorthodox, though true, priest making a forlorn last-minute bid to save Hitler’s soul; so he couched his replies in accordance with his secret objective. Using unctuous flattery he told the megalomaniac who was limping along beside him that, with every life a personality lived, it acquired more knowledge and consequently power: that the Führer had been perhaps in ancient Egypt a minor official, in Rome a Centurion, in the Middle Ages the Abbot of a rich monastery, in Venice a wealthy Senator, in the eighteenth century the ruler of a small Principality, until by his accumulated abilities it had been decreed that he should become the Leader of one of the greatest nations in the world.
Seeing himself in all these roles Hitler readily agreed, then asked, ‘But what now? How, in my next incarnation, can I go yet higher? It seems to me that in this one I have already achieved the limit.’
‘By no means, mein Führer,’ Gregory replied. ‘Our earth is only one of ten thousand worlds. Science has shown us that the stars are as innumerable as the sands of the sea. With the exception of the handful of Planets in our own solar system, every star is a sun and most of them have their own system of Planets revolving round them. Science has told us, too, that all the heavenly bodies are composed of more or less the same materials and that all of them, like everything else in the universe, are subject to growth and decay. They begin life as molten bodies and through the aeons gradually cool until they become extinct. Yet in their long lives there is, compared to ours, a single moment of time when they have cooled sufficiently for their crust to harden and produce first vegetable then animal life. In view of the incalculable number of heavenly bodies in the universe there must, at this moment, be at least several hundred of them that are passing through the same stage of development as this world of ours. Their inhabitants may not resemble us physically, but it would be unreasonable to suppose that they do not possess intelligence, in some cases almost certainly superior to ours.’
‘I see; I see,’ Hitler muttered. ‘Then you think that when personalities here can progress no further, their next incarnation takes place on another world?’
‘Exactly, mein Führer. And I feel no doubt at all that when the time comes for you to leave your present body you will be born again in a world where you will be given opportunities to become an even greater ruler than you have been in this.’
‘You interest me greatly,’ Hitler declared excitedly. ‘But I have walked enough for today. I am tired now. I must go down and rest.’ On that this second private conversation ended.
Considering it unlikely that the Führer would send for him three days running, on the 7th Gregory decided to risk a visit to Sabine. When he arrived at the villa she was delighted to see him but soon began to reproach him bitterly for his neglect of her.
To excuse himself he told her that there had been several casualties among the staff in the Air Ministry Map Room and replacements for them could no longer be spared; so those remaining had to do longer hours and now, like sailors, had been put on four-hour watches. As, in the present chaotic condition of transport, it took four hours to come out to the villa and return, that had put a visit to her out of the question until that day, when he had persuaded two colleagues each to take half of his watch for him. He added that he had hoped by this time to find that she had left Berlin.
She shook her head. ‘I’m better, much better, but not completely cured yet and I won’t go until I am.’
‘How soon does your doctor think that will be?’ he asked.
‘Another week or so. Perhaps a fortnight.’
‘But my dear girl,’ he protested, ‘the Russians will be here in a fortnight. They have just launched another of their great offensives. Within three weeks they will have captured Berlin. I’m certain of it. You positively must go before there is any danger of the city being surrounded and all escape routes cut.’
‘Yes, that’s what Kurt says.’
Gregory raised his eyebrows. ‘So he’s turned up again?’
‘He has been to see me several times. As I told you he is genuinely in love with me; so he too is anxious for my safety. Naturally, I’ve continued to refuse to let him come back and live here, but I let him spend Sundays with me.’
‘I thought you found him a bore, so were glad to be rid of him.’
She gave a bitter little laugh. ‘It is I who am bored these days. For the past five weeks I’ve seen hardly a soul and it has been getting me down terribly. Anyhow, it was only as a lover that I found Kurt unsatisfactory; he is always interesting to talk to.’
Later they had a meal together, and before leaving Gregory again endeavoured to persuade her to leave for the south; but he could not move her from her decision to remain until she was completely cured.
When he was only half-way back to central Berlin a major air-raid began. The thunder of the ack-ack guns was deafening, the sky a great, twinkling carpet of bursting shells, bombs rained down, mostly on the northern part of the city and soon, from the many fires they started, the streets were almost as bright as by day.
During the next few days the situation began to look desperate. Colonel-General von Vietinghoff, who had taken over from Kesselring in Italy, reported that General Alexander had launched a full-scale offensive and that without big reinforcements it would not be possible to continue to hold the Gothic Line. General Model’s encircled army in the Ruhr was losing thousands of men in killed and prisoners every day. In Czechoslovakia and Austria two more great armies, consisting of the survivors of the scores of divisions sent to South Russia, the Balkans and Hungary, were cut off. In Holland the Army Group under von Blaskowitz had its communications with Germany threatened by the Canadians. The British armour was driving towards Hamburg and that of the Americans towards Leipzig and the Elbe. In the north the Russians had taken Stettin, outflanked the German line and were overrunning Mecklenburg; while in the centre they were launching attack after attack against the Oder, which was the last line of defence for Berlin. It was now clear to everyone in the bunker that only a miracle could save Germany from being completely overrun by her enemies.
On the night of the 10th Hitler again sent for Gregory and Malacou. When he had given them his usual limp handshake and told them to sit down, he said:
‘Gentlemen, things look very black for us. But after the conference today my good friend Dr. Goebbels tried to lighten my depression by reading to me a passage from Carlyle’s Life of Frederick the Great. You, Herr Major, will no doubt know it. In 1796 that great soldier-king was at war with Elizabeth of Russia. His armies had been defeated and the Russians were at the very gates of Berlin. It was thought that nothing could save the city. But on February 12th the old Empress died. Her son, Peter, had always hated her and immediately he succeeded he reversed all her policies. The young Emperor was a great admirer of King Frederick; so he at once ordered his armies to halt and offered Frederick an armistice. Thus at the eleventh hour, by what is known as the “Miracle of Brandenburg”, Berlin was saved. Now last time——’
A violent fit of coughing caused him to break off. When he had recovered from it he went on, ‘Last time you were here Herr Malacou predicted that the Anglo-American armies would never reach Berlin; yet from the progress they are making I cannot help fearing that they will unless something utterly unexpected happens to stop them. He also predicted that our enemies would shortly be subjected to a great blow that could alter their whole political outlook. It seems that only something of that kind could halt their advance. Can you reassure me that such a miracle is really likely to take place?’
Gregory and Malacou entered on their usual act. For some moments the occultist rambled, then he produced the following predictions which Gregory translated as: In less than a week the Führer would receive the support and encouragement that it had been earlier foretold would come to him unexpectedly in mid April. This support was associated with the Moon and must, therefore, come from a woman. Although the Russian front was holding it presented a greater menace to Berlin than did the breakthrough by the Allies in the West. The Anglo-American armies would be halted while still some distance from the capital, but the Russians would be in the outskirts of Berlin before the month was out. The event which could alter the whole political outlook of the Allies was the death of President Roosevelt, and it would occur on the 12th.
At that Hitler jumped to his feet, exclaiming, ‘We are saved! I knew it. My intuition is never at fault. There is to be another Miracle of Brandenburg! The President’s death will alter everything. The Americans and British will become our allies against the accursed Communists.’
Then he swung round on Bormann. ‘But there remains one danger. We must not be caught in Berlin before the Western Allies can come to our assistance. We will adopt the plan that we have so often discussed. The Bavarian Alps are a natural fortress. Among them the employment of armour is almost impossible. There is certain to be some delay in agreeing terms with the Americans, so for a while we may have to continue to fight on two fronts. Unless Berlin is seriously threatened, I shall remain here; but preparations must be made for a move to Berchtesgaden. Give all the necessary orders.’
‘Jawohl, mein Führer.’ Bormann shot out his arm in the Nazi salute; the others did likewise, then they all left the room.
Next morning the exodus began. As the Führer intended to remain in Berlin for as long as it could be held, Obersalzberg was too far distant for the headquarters to be established there as yet; but it was decided to form one at Krampnitz from which Keitel and Jodl could come into Berlin daily; so a number of the junior staff officers were sent to make the necessary preparations, while all but a handful of the servants were packed off to Berchtesgaden.
Among those who left was Himmler’s liaison officer, Obergruppenführer Fegelein. That evening the ex-jockey got very drunk and took no pains to hide his joy at having received permission from his Chief to join him at Hohenlychen. At intervals between pouring brandy down his throat he mercilessly twitted the others on their ill-luck in having to remain in the hell of Berlin and the madhouse that the bunker had become.
For all the senior officers the following day proved one of the worst they had ever experienced. News came in that the American spearheads had reached the Elbe the previous evening and that the Russians had secured bridgeheads over the Oder. The German front there had broken and the Bolsheviks were crossing the river in many thousands.
At the midday conference Hitler demanded that heads should roll, and that the troops be called upon to die fighting where they stood. From beyond the partition there came an unceasing flow of curses, denunciations, reproaches and abuse. Hours later the Generals who had been present trooped out, white-faced and weary. Old Koller had had such a lashing because of the failure of the Luftwaffe to prevent the Russians gaining a foothold on the west bank of the Oder that he was again in tears.
All through the afternoon and evening Gregory hovered about the outer regions of the bunker waiting for the news to come in from the United States; but midnight came, the 12th April was over and there had been no announcement of the President’s death. About two o’clock, by then extremely worried, he went back to the Air Ministry, but only to spend an anxious, restless night.
In the morning he went to the Ministry of Propaganda to see Goebbels’ assistant, Heinz Lorenz, and ask if there was any news of special interest; but, apart from reports of fresh disasters on the Oder front, there was nothing. Returning to the Air Ministry he tackled Malacou, who could tell him only that Roosevelt’s horoscope had shown him to be in great danger at this period, and that he would actually leave his present body on the 12th had been conveyed by the familiar spirits who, in all other matters, had proved correct.
There now seemed little doubt that on this occasion they had misinformed Malacou, and as Gregory walked over to the Chancellery he dreaded the reception he expected to receive. It was not so much that Hitler would pour out his vials of wrath upon him that he feared, but that all his careful planning would be brought to naught by the failure of this one prophecy to mature, and that having won the Führer’s confidence by great art and skill he would now find himself completely discredited.
Down in the passage sitting room Bormann was talking to Keitel and Burgdorf before they went in to the midday conference. On seeing Gregory he said with a sneer, ‘How is the President’s health this morning, Herr Major? It seems that you and your Turk have been made fine fools of by the spirits. I’m not surprised, though. You have lasted longer than most of the occult gentry we’ve had here and done better even than the Reichsführer’s man, Wulf; but you all come a cropper in the end.’
‘That is not certain yet, Herr Parteiführer,’ Gregory replied stoutly. ‘It is quite possible that the Americans are holding up the news for reasons of their own.’
They had better be,’ snapped Bormann, ‘or the Führer will have your head off for having misled him.’
When they had gone in to the conference Gregory went through to the mess passage, to get himself a badly needed drink. He remained there for some time, talking with some of the other adjutants. He then returned to the sitting passage. Just inside the doorway two men were standing. One was von Below. The other, a shortish man with very broad shoulders and rolls of fat showing above the collar of his black S.S. uniform, had his back to Gregory.
With a smile, von Below said, ‘Oh, Protze, I don’t think you’ve met our new colleague. The Reichsführer has sent him to replace Fegelein. This is …’ The rest of the introduction Gregory did not even hear. The other man had turned towards him and he found himself staring into the solitary eye of Obergruppenführer Grauber.