Georg Messner met his boss back at Tatsinskaya. The airfield had been carved out of the raw steppe. A single east–west runway, unpaved, would handle most of the take-offs and landings over the coming days and local people had watched in wonderment as these once-sleepy hectares had suddenly filled with a vast fleet of aircraft.
Messner hadn’t seen Richthofen for a couple of days. His briefcase contained the usual paperwork, all of it marked Urgent/Immediate, but just now, unless he was mistaken, there was something even more pressing to resolve.
Richthofen wanted to know about aircraft readiness. The first wave of bombers was due to take off within minutes.
‘Bombed-up and ready to go,’ Messner confirmed.
‘Serviceability?’
‘Eighty-three per cent.’
‘Really?’ The figure sparked a rare smile from Richthofen. Eighty-three per cent was high and both men knew it. Flying time to Stalingrad was an hour and a quarter. By late morning, the first wave should be back here at Tatsinskaya and waiting ground crews would have them back in the air, refuelled and rebombed, by mid-afternoon. Two sorties a day? Perfect.
Messner badly wanted to change the subject. He directed the Generaloberst’s attention towards two nearby vehicles. One of them was a staff car adapted for service on the steppe. The other was a truck, the cargo area shrouded in canvas. Both carried the flashes of SS Einsatzgruppen C.
Doors in the staff car opened as Richthofen and Messner approached.
‘Standartenführer Kalb, Generaloberst Richthofen.’ Messner did the introductions.
Kalb snapped to attention, his right arm raised. Richthofen studied him for a moment, then acknowledged the salute. Another SS officer had joined them. Messner didn’t know his name.
‘Gentlemen?’ Richthofen was rolling himself a cigarette.
Kalb took the lead. In the back of the truck, he said, were a number of what he termed ‘gifts’ for the citizens of Stalingrad.
‘Really? You’re playing Father Christmas? At this time of year?’
The irony was lost on Kalb. He mentioned a senior SS commander in charge of Einsatzgruppen C, and then another who’d evidently controlled everyone in SS uniform since the start of Operation Barbarossa. Today’s plan, he said, had the full backing of both men. Indeed, they regarded it as an important initiative with undoubted relevance to the rest of the campaign.
‘I’m afraid I don’t understand.’ Richthofen sealed his cigarette and ignored the offer of a light from the other SS officer. ‘I’m a busy man, Herr Standartenführer. Today, as you might gather, is far from routine. Time belongs to no man, least of all me.’
Kalb looked briefly nonplussed. Then he nodded towards the truck.
‘Komm, bitte…’
Richthofen and Messner followed him. The other SS officer had signalled to two men in the truck and they were already dropping the tailgate. As Richthofen approached, they stood respectfully aside.
‘One question, Herr Standartenführer.’ Richthofen paused to light his cigarette. ‘What’s smelling so bad?’
Kalb had no answer. Instead, he was looking at Messner.
‘In the absence of any figure from you, Herr Oberst, I took advice. We understand at least a dozen depending on size. Might that be accurate?’ He nodded up at the truck. ‘In any event, we brought spares, just in case.’
Spares? Messner was watching Richthofen clambering up into the back of the truck. Once again, he refused help. He parted the two wings of canvas and stood motionless, his booted feet apart, hands on hips, the cigarette smouldering between his fingers. Then he turned, braced his body and jumped. Moments later he was back with Kalb and Messner.
‘You killed these people?’ He was talking to Kalb, matter-of-fact, no hint of surprise.
‘Of course.’
‘And they are…?’
‘Saboteurs, propagandists, agitators, enemies of the state.’
‘And you’re denying them a burial?’
‘We’re putting them to good use.’
‘By throwing them out over Stalingrad?’
‘Indeed. That’s exactly what we’re doing.’ Kalb seemed warmed by the way Richthofen had been so quick to spot the guile of the plan. He began to explain it in detail, exactly the way he’d done to Messner, dropping the bodies upriver, letting the ID they were carrying – their names, their occupations – make a point or two once they’d been recovered, but Richthofen cut him short. Engines were starting all over the airfield. Ground crew were hauling away the wooden chocks that anchored the wheels.
‘You see my aircraft, Herr Standartenführer?’
‘Of course. Our aircraft. Might that be more accurate?’
Messner blinked. This man didn’t know Richthofen, couldn’t possibly anticipate the fire he’d just lit. Anticipating an explosion of wrath, followed by a curt dismissal, he was surprised that Richthofen barely flinched. Instead, he beckoned Kalb closer, the way a teacher might invite a backward pupil to consider the simplest proposition. The gesture was almost friendly, even conspiratorial.
‘As you can see, these aircraft will be taking off in minutes,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid it’s too late to call any of them back and, in any event, it would take us far too long to unload the bomb bay.’
‘You’re telling me I have to wait? Kein Problem, Herr Generaloberst.’ He turned to share a smile with the other SS officer but Richthofen hadn’t finished. He checked his watch. ‘The next wave will be leaving in less than an hour. I’m happy to put one of those aircraft at your disposal.’
‘Excellent. You can take a dozen of these scum? More, perhaps?’
Richthofen shook his head. He seemed to be counting the men Kalb had brought with him.
‘There’s four of you?’ He was looking at Kalb again. ‘Would that be right?’
‘Ja.’
‘Then the answer’s eight. Eight bodies.’ He nodded at the truck. ‘You choose.’
Kalb looked briefly confused. Then he began to understand.
‘But you said twelve.’
‘I did.’
‘And the other bodies? The balance?’
‘You, Herr Standartenführer, and your Kameraden. Our bomb bays are bigger than you think. The journey will take no time at all. It needn’t be uncomfortable.’ He offered Kalb a thin smile, and then took a final drag on his cigarette before grinding it beneath his boot. ‘Your decision, Herr Standartenführer. Oberst Messner will be pleased to take care of the details. Auf Wiedersehen. Enjoy the flight.’