AFTER LEAVING THE BROTHEL, PENSION Nadia, Eppler and Sandy looked for a more permanent base. They took a flat belonging to Madame Therese Guillemet, a Frenchwoman married to an Egyptian, at No 8 Sharia Boursa el Guedida. They rented the rooms for three months, paying £75 rent in advance; Sandy kept a record of the money they spent.1
It soon proved unsuitable, as when Sandy set up an aerial on the roof and sent out his call sign he got no reply. He concluded that he was sending a poor signal owing to the flat being surrounded by taller buildings. There was also the problem that the flat had once been the haunt of prostitutes, and former clients and the police were frequently at the door. Therese, the owner, lived with them, and she herself had once been a prostitute and a madam. One day her pimp, Albert Wahda, visited and recognised Eppler, whom he knew as Hussein Gaafar. Eppler explained away his absence from Cairo since 1937 by saying that he had been living at a farm at Assiut.2
Following this encounter Eppler immediately began looking for more suitable accommodation through people he met in nightclubs, cabarets and bars. He also hoped these contacts would lead to information that might interest Rommel. It also became crucial for the agents to change their British currency, which they found was not in use in Egypt, and those using it were at risk of being arrested. They had little choice but to change it on the black market for a third or half its value. But there were plenty of takers, few of whom were entirely trustworthy.
Eppler visited his mother in old Cairo at 10 Sharia Masr al Kasa; while there he learnt that his stepfather had died several months before. His stepbrother Hassan Gaafar was not at home and he told his mother not to tell him of his visit.3
The two agents continued to make the rounds of the Cairo nightclubs, making sure to spend heavily – an average of £20 a night – and gaining many acquaintances, most of whom were worthless.4 On the roof garden of the Continental Hotel Eppler asked Rossier, the head waiter, to introduce them to the celebrated belly dancer Hekmat Fahmy.5 Eppler’s account states that he had known her ‘for some considerable time – and not only in my official capacity. I wanted her to work for me.’ He found the roof garden intoxicating:
The sweet scent of a thousand roses in bloom mingled with the French perfumes of brown- and white-skinned women. The figures round the tables were barely discernible in the subdued light that filtered through the flowering shrubs in which lamps were concealed. Stinking rich Egyptians, Greeks, and Armenians, who could not have cared less about the awful war, were making up to assorted lovelies hung with precious jewels.
According to Eppler, he actually met Sansom at the Continental Hotel bar. The Englishman was drinking ‘White Horse and soda’ and proceeded to introduce himself as ‘Sansom’ which seems highly unlikely, given the latter’s careful nature. Eppler also states that Sansom ‘could hold his liquor. In the end I left owing him a round.’ Eppler also left with Hekmat.6
Sansom himself says that he first saw Eppler much later at the Kit Kat Cabaret (see Chapter 21) lighting a cigarette with a £5 note, saying: ‘There are plenty more where that came from.’ Sansom also states that he gave Eppler a fictitious Egyptian name.7
After the agents had a second meeting with Hekmat Fahmy at the Continental she agreed to put them up for a night on her dahabia (houseboat) at Agouza on the Nile. Eppler suggests the night he spent with Hekmat was not merely business.
I discussed everything with Hekmat during the remainder of the night, in her fabulously furnished houseboat, while we lay in her wide sensuous bed under its silken mosquito net. [We perfected our] plans down to the last detail.8
This again is unlikely given Sandy’s presence; did he play gooseberry? During interrogation after their capture, both men denied sleeping with Hekmat and stated that Albert Wahda was on the boat that night as well.9 The pimp seems to have latched onto them no doubt for easy money, but he was useful as a messenger and gofer.
However, there is no doubt that Eppler was infatuated with the belly dancer, an infatuation that may have gone back several years:
She was extremely beautiful, and justifiably the most adored of belly dancers. She had a head of lustrous black hair, and sensational green eyes inherited from a Circassian grandmother. Her nose was the delicate aristocratic nose found in ancient Egyptian paintings of women. As she sat there, she had that same dreamy face to be seen on the bas-reliefs of God knows how many dynasties in upper Egypt. Her features were so finely drawn they were almost stylized, but wonderfully lively. Her skin had a tawny colour that was the perfect foil for her deep green eyes.10
It seems the reality was that during that night on the houseboat the two men slept in the room of Hekmat’s lover, a British officer who was away in the desert. They proceeded to go through his personal gear, and thought they had hit the jackpot when they found a map of the defences of Tobruk, until they realised that it was an Italian map dating from before the British occupation.
Hekmat herself denied having anything to do with Eppler and Sandy’s espionage activities, or even showing them her lover’s papers. No doubt she was willing to pass on any pillow talk gleaned from British officers, much as her colleagues on the belly dancing circuit did for a financial consideration, but she was no Mata Hari.11
However Hekmat did help the agents find another dahabia to live in at Agouza, near the Egyptian Benevolent Hospital. It appeared an ideal solution to their problems, and they agreed to pay £12 a month for the boat with a £30 deposit.12 Eppler described it as ‘a very attractive dahabia, with a great sundeck complete with a bar of mahogany’. The bar was well stocked, and he was glad to see that below decks it was well furnished to a near exotic degree, with soft divans and gossamer curtains. It had two ladders leading below decks, which he felt was good as ‘one might need them in a hurry.’ Sandy found a good hiding place for his transmitter under a radiogram, and the aerials on deck were unlikely to attract attention.13
According to Eppler, only the first transmission Sandy made from the houseboat was acknowledged by the German receiving station in the desert. It is unlikely that even this attempt was successful, as by this time Kondor had been abandoned by Rommel (see below). Further attempts, usually made at midnight, also proved fruitless.14 They began to wonder if their transmitter set was faulty. It did not occur to them that something could be wrong the other end, and that the Abwehr had neglected to give them an alternative contact in case of a change in operations.
Meanwhile Almásy’s return trip across the desert had not gone entirely smoothly. After leaving Eppler and Sandstette, he set off back on his 1400-mile journey; picking up the waiting second car ‘we waste no time.’ They reached Yabsa Pass in darkness; ‘After a quick decision I have the camouflage paint removed from the searchlights (headlights) and we drive down the steep snaking road with all lights on.’ They covered 420 kilometres that day (260 miles).
The next day the two cars passed through Kharga once again. In the town square they saw one of the ghaffirs they had seen the day before, but he did not stop them. Perhaps he did not recognise them straight away, but clearly he soon figured it out as Almásy saw him running after them in the rear view mirror.
At the railway station they stopped to take photographs of cereal supplies, and learnt from the locals that there was not much traffic about. On the strength of this information Almásy decided to stay on the road. ‘I can spare myself a good bit of miserable terrain if I just drive along the Kharga-Dachla road and turn off just before Dachla to the south, to disappear into the great void.’15
He was concerned that he would not find the tracks they had made on the outward journey, but in fact he did, although it was difficult owing to a covering of drifting sand. Occasionally the tracks disappeared altogether and the men had to get out of their vehicles and search on foot. This was time consuming but saved precious fuel. Fortunately, Almásy found one of their fuel dumps shortly after they lost the tracks altogether. He also found a large snake who had set up home amidst the drums, which viewed them with ‘glowing emerald eyes. Munz want to kill it, but I tell him that it is the djinn of our hiding place and hence of our return journey too, which visibly impresses the men.’16
They picked up ‘Flitzer’ – the abandoned Bedford – and still managed to cover 250 miles that day. On 25 May they set off late at 09.30, as Almásy had given them ‘a bit of a rest’. The three vehicles headed due west toward the Gilf Kebir, Almásy’s navigation was ‘perfectly correct’, picking up his 1933 track. They found their fuel dump at the ‘Two Breasts’ – managing to do so without getting any of the vehicles stuck – and camped in the ‘Great Breck’.
On 26 May Almásy stumbled across enemy vehicles in several columns near the Drei Burgen (Three Castles). Crossing the skyline of a ridge, he saw that ‘parked trucks of an enemy column of 28 vehicles were camping.’ The Salam commandos quickly got off the ridge and hid in dead ground, then Almásy returned to the crest on foot. He saw another enemy column about three miles east of the first, and another farther out on the plain. However, he concluded that none had seen his party.
Almásy needed to get through the Wadi Anag
… to get out of the mountains via the Bab-el-Masr Pass before these columns. In a state of ‘alert’ with the MG ready to open up, I drove by compass, toward the Wadi Anag. Before we enter the protection of the gorge the first vehicles of a column appear barely 4 km behind us, on the skyline. Had they seen us?17
Having found their second Bedford and fuel dump, it was obvious that they could not go on with four vehicles and four men, as there would be no one to man the machine gun. They need to refuel and change tyres, and while his men worked, Almásy watched the enemy. He soon realised that they must be from the Sudan Defence Force, as they stopped for prayers at midday, giving the Commando some respite. But he knew he would not be able to shake them off on the narrow mountain track: ‘Between here and Bab-el-Masr there is no chance of evasion.’ Subterfuge was the only answer; he let one column pass and then joined the track, with another enemy column not far behind.
I do not think that the guard on the six vehicles behind has seen our three vehicles. After a few minutes we are driving along the tracks of the column itself. I had the MG inside the vehicle so that it should not give us away. We went quietly KM after KM and I could already see the large circular sole of the valley on the far side of which is situated the narrow entrance of Bab-el-Masr. The enemy column is bivouacked just in front of the entrance.18
As they passed the enemy camp – keeping the sun in the eyes of the SDF column – they saluted, which was returned, the markings of their vehicles too dull to be seen clearly. They had got away with it, and drove through the tight entrance to the Bab-el-Masr. Seven miles on, the left back tyre of Almásy’s car got a puncture. ‘Good job that did not happen near the enemy column,’ observed Almásy.19
By 27 May the group had reached the Hauwaisch Mountains along the ‘blessed smugglers’ road’, and arrived at ‘No1 camp with petrol store’. The run that day was 340km (210 miles).20
On 29 May they had a leisurely morning, shaving and washing. In order to get to Jalo they had to drain the fuel from the ‘President’ into the ‘Inspector’, but they intended to return for the vehicle. Only ‘Flitzer’ – left at the Gilf Kebir – was truly abandoned.
Exactly at noon we came to the first kilometre on the southern edge of the Gialo [Jalo] aerodrome. Whilst Munz fired the pre-arranged 3 white flares we hoisted the tricolour [Italian flag] on the aerial mast of the car under the aegis of which we had started our trip and had successfully terminated it.21
It was certainly an outstanding achievement for Almásy and his men, who had operated in the LRDG’s back yard unnoticed. Almásy soon retrieved his vehicles from the desert south near Jalo, and then travelled to Tripoli where they were handed over to the Wido Commando for operations against the Free French in the Tibesti.
Almásy was at the German Consulate on 2 June where the Abwehr were keen to contact him; the station chief Holzbrecher was instructed to make sure that Kondor had good contact, and to send Salam (Almásy) to Afrika Korps HQ communications ‘in order to start traffic with Condor working’.22
Almásy duly rushed to report to Rommel who by then was directing the assault on the Free French position at Bar Hacheimn toward the southern end of Eighth Army’s Gazala Line.
‘Herr General, Operation Salam successfully concluded. Operation Kondor can now begin,’ he reported to the C-in-C.23
Rommel appeared awkward. In May he had brought Aberle and Weber from Mamelin, where they seemed underemployed, to join his HQ signals staff, which was short of operators. He had argued that they could wait for messages with his staff just as well as elsewhere and lend a hand. But the heavy fighting of 27 and 28 May meant that the Afrika Korps was in danger behind the Gazala Line. Even Rommel had to flee one morning half shaved when his HQ came under attack from the LRDG.
In the confusion the truck with Aberle and Weber and all the Kondor material was captured. The operation was compromised and had to be abandoned. It was ordered that all messages from the agents in Cairo were to be ignored from then on.24
Almásy was stunned. The Abwehr had gone to so much trouble to help Rommel and he had thrown it away, for the sake of two radio operators being idle for a few days. Kondor was dead before it had truly begun.
Rommel congratulated Almásy on his efforts and promoted him to Major on the spot. Later he was awarded the Iron Cross First and Second Class. He told the disappointed Hungarian not to worry, for he hoped to arrive on the Nile ‘with my whole army by a shorter route’ than Salam had taken. Almásy answered acidly that a villa would be prepared for Rommel on the Nile, ‘provided the British haven’t captured you in the meantime.’25 A few weeks later Almásy was on his way home, suffering from acute amoebic dysentery picked up on Operation Salam.
See here for a list of abbreviations used in the below notes
1 KV/2/1467 6A p.4
2 ibid, p.5
3 Kelly, p.221
4 KV/2/1467 13A p.2
5 ibid, 6A p.5
6 Eppler, p.220–221
7 Sansom, p.119
8 Eppler, p.221
9 KV/2/1467 6A p.5
10 Eppler, p.225
11 KV/2/1467 13A para 6
12 ibid, 6A p.5
13 Eppler, p.225–226
14 ibid, p.238
15 IWM LOP Operation… p.13
16 ibid, p.13
17 ibid, p.17
18 ibid, p.16
19 ibid, p.17
20 ibid, p.18
21 ibid, p.20
22 GCCS 19/31 No 29397 Berlin to Tripoli 8/6/1942
23 Carell, p.221
24 Behrendt, p.153
25 Carell, p.222