Waiting there would have proved an incredibly tedious business had not the Baron proved a most knowledgeable man and a great talker. He had travelled considerably in his time and had friends in many countries so he deplored the post-Great War era in which the policies of most European nations had led to the shutting-off of one from the other.
As he pointed out, previously to 1914 passports had been unknown unless a European was travelling to some semi-barbarous country where he might need official aid in securing means of transport or other assistance. Apart from that, men of every nation had been free to come and go without let or hindrance and could even settle in foreign countries without restriction if they wished.
In France, England, Italy and Scandinavia there had been thousands of Germans earning an honest living and abiding loyally by the laws of the countries that gave them hospitality. This freedom of movement and often permanent interchange of peoples had been enabling the European nations to get to know and appreciate one another’s qualities in an ever-increasing degree throughout the whole of the last century. Englishmen had found with some surprise that Frenchmen did not exist solely upon a diet of frogs, and Germans had been able to see for themselves that all Englishwomen did not have flat chests and protruding teeth. Had that state of things continued for another half-century, with facilities for travel becoming ever easier, faster and cheaper, the constant mingling of the nationalities on a friendly footing might well have created a mass goodwill strong enough to prevent any Government from daring to declare war on its neighbours; the more so as, by the fact that there was then no restriction on Germans, English, Americans, Italians or anyone else living in any country that they chose, the whole question of living-room seemed already to have been solved.
That splendid prospect of a possible permanent peace had been shattered by the war of 1914–18; after which both victors and vanquished had been faced by the terrible problem of reconstruction and through huge unemployment figures in their own countries had been compelled to put a bar up against emigration from abroad. That, maintained Colonel-Baron von Lutz, was the root cause of this new struggle in which the major nations were now engaged. Germany was not a rich country compared with many other European states and she had even been robbed of such Colonial possessions as she had had; yet the German race was breeding just as fast as ever. Therefore they must either be given over-seas territory or, better still, be allowed free ingress to other countries for their surplus population; otherwise the standard of life in Germany would become so lowered by more and more people trying to cut a slice off a single loaf that anarchy would inevitably result.
He was not a Nazi and most strongly deprecated Hitler’s power politics and disregard of Germany’s word pledged by solemn treaty; but he argued that eighty million people, representing one of the most advanced races in the world, could not be expected calmly to sit still and allow themselves to be gradually starved to death. Hence the German people as a whole had become desperate and had allowed Hitler to lead them into the present assault upon the great Democracies.
Charlton, who had done a short course at the College of Imperial Defence, pointed out that the problem of giving Germany back her Colonies was by no means as simple as it looked. Where, he asked, would Britain be now if Germany had not been deprived of her African possessions after the last Great War? In the last half-dozen years Hitler would have established huge arsenals and air-bases in German West, Tanganyika and the Cameroons and would have turned their ports into heavily-fortified lairs for great flotillas of commerce raiders and submarines. The coming of the aeroplane, the increased range of U-boats and fast motorcraft, the destructive power of mines and direct communication by wireless had absolutely revolutionised strategy in the last quarter of a century and would have made such enemy bases a hundred times more potent as factors in the struggle than they were in 1914. With them in her hands Germany would have been able totally to disrupt Britain’s sea traffic in both the South Atlantic and the Indian Ocean, cutting her and France off entirely from the Eastern hemisphere in which lay the greater part of both their Empires. In addition Hitler’s African bombing squadrons would have had Johannesburg, Cairo, Cape Town and the Suez Canal at their mercy; and any determined attempt to protect these African territories would have necessitated Britain and France detaching so large a proportion of their Air Forces from the main theatre of operations that they could have been left virtually defenceless at home. A Blitzkrieg then might even have caused the Democracies to lose the war. Freddie paled with his intensity as he added firmly: “That is why never, never again must Germany be allowed to hold one square mile of African soil.”
At half past twelve Magda came out, bringing with her a welcome hot lunch. Gregory had fallen into a troubled sleep so they did not disturb him but hoped that he would sleep on, as complete rest was what he needed. They ate the meal while she waited with them and when she had gone settled themselves to try to pass a little time by dozing where they sat. At three they roused up again and lit cigarettes.
It was soon afterwards that they distinctly heard two reports echo through the wood, and realised with quick apprehension that one of the sentries had sighted suspicious visitors. From fear that the smell or sight of the smoke might betray them if some of the Gestapo men, who were probably arriving, came out through the back of the house and began poking about on the fringe of the wood, they stubbed out their cigarettes; then crouched down in the gully under cover of the brambles and waited in anxious silence.
For over an hour they remained there listening for the lightest footfalls but nothing stirred in the wood except the occasional flutter of a bird or the scampering of some small animal in the undergrowth. At last, as the shadows were beginning to fall they heard a rustling which gradually grew nearer and, peering through the bushes, von Lutz saw that it was the maid, Lenchen.
She was gathering sticks in her outspread apron and as he watched he saw that she was working her way towards them. Two minutes later, without looking at him, she stooped for some sticks on the edge of the gully and whispered swiftly:
“Do not show yourself, Heer Oberst-Baron. Two car-loads of Black Guards arrived at ten past three; they ransacked the house, the barns and the outbuildings, but found nothing. They appeared to be satisfied after they had questioned us, as we all said that we had not seen you since the first week in October, and the cars have just driven off back to Brandenburg; but they have left two of the men behind who are to be billeted in the house in case you should suddenly arrive here. Fräulein Magda sent me to tell you this and to explain that she may not be able to bring your Abendessen at the usual hour in case they suspect and follow her; but one of us will manage to slip out with cold food for you some time during the evening.”
As the girl talked she kept moving, and having delivered her message she began to work her way back to the house, gathering more firewood as she went.
“Teufel Nochmal!” exclaimed the Baron, when she had disappeared among the tree-trunks. “This is bad—worse than what I fear.” And having explained to Freddie what had happened, he added: “I haf goot reason to expect they visit my house but after they find I am not at home I believe they get out; then we are safe to move ourselves and your friend in bed to put. But now that is not possible.”
“It looks as though we’ll have to spend another night in the woods, then,” Freddie said miserably and, as that seemed the only thing they could do, they resigned themselves to a cold and dreary evening.
At ten o’clock Magda came out to them with a bundle of rugs in which were wrapped a bottle of hock, a thermos-flask full of hot soup and some packets of cold meat, bread and Appfel-kuchen. She said that the two Nazis who had billeted themselves in the manor were not unfriendly and appeared to have no suspicion that her father might already have arrived there or be in hiding in the neighbourhood. Nevertheless, they seemed confident that sooner or later he would make his way to his own home and had declared their intention of remaining there until he put in an appearance. They had also threatened all the servants with the direst penalties if at any time the Colonel-Baron arrived by stealth and they warned him that Gestapo agents were waiting in the manor for him.
Gregory, who had been sleeping or dozing in a semi-conscious state most of the day, roused up while they were talking and Magda examined his wound by the light of a torch. It showed no sign of improvement and he was still feverish. Now that any hope of getting him properly to bed in the warm house had had to be abandoned they were more anxious than ever about him, but there was little they could do, so having settled him as comfortably as possible Magda gave him some aspirins and, promising to come out again as early as she could the next morning, she left them.
After eating their supper, which to some degree restored their cheerfulness, the Baron and Freddie settled down under their rugs for the night; but it was long before they could get to sleep, as the cold was more bitter than ever and about midnight snow began to fall.
When Freddie woke it was still pitch-dark and glancing at the luminous dial of his watch he saw that it was only a quarter to three. His movement roused von Lutz and for a little time they talked together in low voices. Snow was falling heavily and as Gregory’s camp-bed occupied the only sheltered space beneath the bank it had begun to settle on their rugs and faces in a thick white powder.
At last they could bear the cold no longer so decided to walk about in an attempt to restore their circulation. The contents of Gregory’s flask had already been used up, but von Lutz had another, which he shared with Freddie as they stumbled up and down a patch of ground that was fairly free from undergrowth.
Their misery and distress during the next four hours were almost indescribable. On two occasions they tried to sleep again but the warmth of their bodies melted the snow which had fallen on their garments so that these had become half-sodden and they found it impossible to remain still for any length of time. In the early hours of the morning their difficulties were further increased by a bout of delirium which seized Gregory in its grip. He was completely off his head and ‘fighting the battle in the Adlon’ over and over again, shouting curses, threats and warnings interspersed with heart-rending cries that he must save Erika because Grauber would—“Torture her—torture her—torture her!”
In the silence of the snow-carpeted wood his agonised shouts seemed so loud that von Lutz feared they might rouse the Gestapo men in the house half a mile away; so he and Charlton had to muffle the injured man’s ravings by putting a handkerchief over his mouth and to frustrate his attempts to fling himself about, which would have caused his wound to start bleeding again, by holding him down.
When dawn came they were utterly exhausted. The Baron was grey-faced and heavy-eyed; Freddie had a splitting head and a horrible taste in his mouth; both felt as though they had been up for a week and were so numb from the cold that they feared frost-bite. Gregory had lapsed into unconsciousness again but his head looked like that of a corpse. His cheeks had fallen in and were leaden-coloured under a three days growth of beard, the skin across his forehead was taut, with little beads of perspiration standing out upon it, and his mouth sagged open as though the muscles of his face had relaxed in death.
At seven o’clock, Magda arrived, bringing breakfast. The previous night her unwelcome guests had said that having nothing to do they did not wish to be called till eight o’clock and she had had food prepared early so that she could get it out of the house before they were about. With hands shaking from the cold her father and Charlton took the welcome bowl of hot stew which she had brought them and the big hunks of bread to dip into it, while she examined Gregory.
After a moment she turned and shrugged her shoulders. “He is much worse and there is nothing I can do. Another night like this and he will die here.”
“That must not be allowed,” said her father quickly.
She gave him a sullen look. “What does it matter? He is an Englishman.”
As she was speaking in German Freddie could not understand what she said but he sensed the gist of her remarks and her hostility.
The Prussian aristocrat’s voice was terrifyingly stern as he replied: “Speak only of what you understand, girl. This man risked his life in an attempt to bring about peace and enable us to create a free and better Germany. He is our guest and no effort must be spared or risk remain unrun which will aid his recovery. Go now and send Hans Foldar to me immediately.”
“Yes, Father,” Magda murmured with sudden meekness, and wrapping her shawls about her she hurried away to do his bidding.
For three quarters of an hour they waited then they heard footfalls crunching the newly-fallen snow. Von Lutz peered out from his hiding-place then stood up to greet a tall, broad-shouldered man of about sixty wearing the top-boots, leather jerkin and fur cap of a forester.
“You sent for me Herr Oberst-Baron?” the man inquired in a hoarse voice.
“Yes, Hans. You know the situation I am in and are loyally helping to protect me from the Gestapo. That would get you into serious trouble if it became known, but now I have an even greater service to ask of you; one which would certainly mean death for you if you were caught. If this weather continues—and I fear it will—we can’t last long out here in the woods. If we don’t die from cold we shall certainly lose our toes and fingers by frost-bite. Moreover, one of these two friends of mine is wounded and may die unless we can get him into shelter. Are you willing to receive myself and these gentlemen in your cottage?”
“Certainly, Herr Oberst-Baron. All that I have came from you and your family so it is yours to dispose of.”
“Thank you, Hans. I felt certain that I could rely on you, but I should tell you that these two friends of mine are Englishmen; one is an officer of the British Air Force and the wounded man is a British Secret Service agent who is wanted by the Gestapo. They were in the plane which was shot down a few miles from here three nights ago.”
“The Herr Oberst-Baron knows best. If he thinks it right to protect them that is sufficient for me, too.”
“Come, then; let’s get the wounded man to your cottage as soon as possible. It’s going to be a hard job to carry him all that way but we’ll manage it somehow.”
The Baron informed Charlton of the arrangement he had made and again using the camp-bed as a stretcher the three of them set off through the woods with the unconscious Gregory. Von Lutz and Freddie carried the bed while Hans picked the easiest way between the snow-covered bushes. It was a two-mile tramp but at last they reached the forester’s cottage.
Hans Foldar went in first to prepare his wife. She accepted without argument his decision to shelter their master and his friends and at once they began to plan how best to conceal the fugitives. It was decided that the loft above the kitchen-sitting-room would be the best place and, Gregory having been carried in, after some difficulty they got him and the camp-bed up there. Von Lutz then sent Hans to tell Magda to come to them with linen and bandages as soon as she could slip away from the house without being seen by the Nazis.
Frau Foldar, who was a buxom, middle-aged woman, provided the refugees with a midday meal of vegetable stew and in the early afternoon Magda arrived with the things that her father had sent for. They were then able to undress Gregory, treat his wound with hot fomentations again and put him back in the camp-bed after it had been properly made up with sheets and blankets. Meanwhile Hans brought in straw from his barn to make up two shake-downs in the loft for his master and Charlton.
Gregory’s temperature became still higher in the evening and it strained the nerves of those who were with him to listen to his monotonous ravings; but by nine o’clock he had dropped into unconsciousness again. His two companions were then able to relax and settle down to a much more comfortable night than they had known since the abortive Putsch on the previous Wednesday.
The next day, Sunday the 12th, proved the crisis in Gregory’s illness but by evening his fever had worn itself out and although very weak he regained consciousness for the first time in many hours.
In the days that followed he gradually began to mend. The handsome, hard-faced Magda managed to visit them each morning or afternoon, varying the times of her daily excursions so as not to arouse the suspicion of her unwelcome guests and always approaching the cottage by way of the woods in its rear. As well as treating Gregory’s wound she brought parcels of such luxuries as she could acquire locally to supplement the frugal fare which was all that the Foldars could provide. There was no actual shortage of food and, apart from lack of sugar, rationing did not worry them, as the country-people evaded surrendering a considerable proportion of their produce to the authorities; but delicacies were rare and imported foods had entirely disappeared. Magda also brought them what news she could but little was coming through.
Six Nazis had been killed and sixty-three injured by the Munich bomb explosion which, according to an announcement made by Himmler, had been plotted by the British Government the previous August and carried out by British Secret Service agents who had bribed a workman, employed on repairs in the Bierhaller, to place the bomb. No-one believed this, as it was generally known that a most terrible purge was taking place throughout the length and breadth of Germany. Every effort was being made to suppress particulars of the military revolt in Berlin spreading to other parts of the Reich but many hundreds of officers, intellectuals and industrialists had been arrested while others had gone into hiding or escaped into neutral countries.
With the Nazis in the house Magda and her mother dared not listen to the foreign broadcasts, since the penalty for being caught was six months in a concentration-camp for the first offence and death for the second, so for most of their news they had to rely on the German stations and such accounts of the war as appeared in the Nazi controlled Press.
The tension with Belgium and Holland had died down and a Foreign Office spokesman had declared that the Reich would respect the neutrality of both countries provided that Britain and France continued to do so.
The German Air Force had become much more active. Reconnaissance squadrons had photographed many British military areas, even in the estuary of the Thames, without opposition; successful raids had been carried out against British shipping and for the first time in the war German airmen had actually dropped bombs on British soil, in the Shetlands.
Time would have hung heavily on their hands had it not been for the magazines which Magda provided, out of which von Lutz read translations to Charlton, and also attempted to teach the young airman German.
Freddie was not a good linguist and he progressed slowly but by the time they had been in the cottage for a fortnight he could speak enough German to ask for anything he wanted and to carry on a halting conversation. Each night he and von Lutz got air and exercise by walking in the woods at the back of the cottage, since after the first few days it became apparent that the Nazis who had been left at the house to await the appearance of the Baron still had no suspicion that he was in the neighbourhood and, after depleting his cellar, went to bed at a regular hour.
By Saturday, the 18th of November. Gregory had recovered sufficiently to be able to get up for the first time and by the following Tuesday he had his arm out of the sling. The wound was only a small one, and once the poison had been checked and the inflammation had gone down it had healed rapidly.
It was during this week-end that they heard the first news of the Czech rebellion. The village schoolmaster had returned from his unit in Prague on special leave, to see his dying mother, and, according to his account, at least twelve, and possibly more, Czech students had been shot by the Gestapo for anti-German demonstrations. Baron von Neurath, as Governor of the Protectorate had ordered the Universities to be closed for three years. Prague was in a state of open revolt when the schoolmaster left and he said that the anti-German feeling was so strong that even before the revolt German soldiers had not been allowed out at night in the city in parties of less than six, for fear of assassination.
The account of conditions there as retailed by Magda reminded Gregory of the state of things in Ireland after the Great War and he recalled the stories that he had heard about British officers, stationed in Dublin, being sandbagged and thrown into the Liffey. That the extremist section of the Irish still bore Britain a bitter grudge was evidenced by the activities of the I.R.A.; out of which the German broadcasts made much capital. It had recently been reported that their fanatics had brought off four successful bomb outrages in the West End of London, and the Nazis were cock-a-hoop about it.
By Thursday, the fifteenth day after he had received his injury, Gregory was able to use his arm again without any danger of the wound’s reopening. In himself he was now very fit and for some days he had been able to accompany von Lutz and Charlton on their nightly walk in the woods, which was the only exercise they dared to take and a great relief to them after having been cooped up all day in the loft for fear of running into the two Nazis who were billeted in the manor-house.
On Friday the 24th, the news was by no means so good for the two Englshmen and they had to repress their feelings to the best of their ability as Magda recounted, with a glee that she did not attempt to conceal, the results of Hitler’s releasing one of his much-vaunted secret weapons, the magnetic mine.
Apparently the campaign had been launched the previous week-end and twenty-five ships were already reported to have fallen victims to the new weapon. That the majority of them were neutrals did not seem to cause Magda any concern, since like many Germans her theory of warfare was, ‘all who are not with us are against us’. In secret Gregory had a certain sympathy for her attitude as it was entirely owing to his own complete unscrupulousness against his enemies that he had survived to the age of thirty-nine.
That Friday Magda also brought news that Himmler had explained the Munich bomb plot. Georg Elser, a thirty-six-year-old workman, had been arrested and had confessed to having planted the bomb at the order of Otto Strasser, a former associate of Hitler’s who had turned against him and was now said to be directing the anti-Nazi Black Front from Paris. According to Himmler the British Secret Service was also involved and two of its members, Best and Stevens, had been arrested on the Dutch frontier trying to come into Germany on November the 9th.
As they were said to be attempting to come into Germany the day after the bomb had exploded this hardly made sense. But the more intelligent Germans had long since given up trying to make sense out of the so often contradictory statements of the Nazi leaders who were obviously using all the influence they had to sway the Fuehrer and the German people in favour of their individual policies.
By the middle of this the third week after the abortive Putsch Gregory was beginning to get restive. He pointed out that, grateful as he and Charlton were to von Lutz for concealing them, they could not remain there indefinitely. Every day and every night of his convalescence he had spent hours of misery wondering what had become of Erika. With iron control he had curbed his impatience to be off to Berlin in search of news of her until he should be really fit to face hardships and danger again. Now he grudged every further hour’s delay. Freddie, too, had remained inactive only through necessity. The thought that if he could get into Holand he would be able to see Angela and patch up his quarrel with her made him discount the difficulties and perils of such a journey. Only on account of Gregory’s state had he refrained from urging an attempt to get out of Germany earlier. Neither disclosed to the other his special reason for being so desperately anxious to set off, but once the subject was broached it was clear that both were in favour of starting at the earliest possible moment.
Von Lutz declared that he intended to stay where he was until the two Nazis had become tired of sitting doing nothing in his house, when he would be able to move to it and remain in hiding in more comfortable quarters; but he expressed his willingness to aid the two Englishmen by every means in his power.
The question was raised and settled on the morning of Sunday, the 26th, and when Magda came to the cottage that afternoon von Lutz discussed the matter with her; upon which it was agreed that she should come to the cottage again that night, after the two Nazis had gone to bed, bringing with her a complete outfit of the Baron’s civilian clothes for Charlton, a civilian overcoat for Gregory and a small stock of tinned goods—from a store that had been laid in before the war—to serve as iron rations until the fugitives got well away from the district.
The wintry daylight was already fading by the time Magda left and darkness fell soon after, but they knew that they had to wait for hours yet before it would be safe for her to leave the house with the things she was to bring and make her way back to them by the forest path. Von Lutz drew a rough map of the surrounding country as a guide for them in the first part of their flight but there were no other preparations they could make, and now that they were keyed up to start the time seemed to hang interminably. At last, shortly before midnight, Magda arrived, but she carried no bundle and one glance was enough to show that she was in a state of great distress.
Her father questioned her anxiously but she only stared at him, wild-eyed and speechless. Gregory took her by the arm and shook her. Suddenly she burst into tears and between her sobs the whole sordid story came out. One of the Nazis, a brawny young man named Carl Dietrich, had taken a fancy to her immediately on his arrival at the house and had been paying her the most unwelcome attentions ever since. These had led up to violent scenes in which he had demanded to know how she, the daughter of a traitor colonel, dared to put on airs with a member of the Black Guards, Hitler’s chosen legion, picked for their strength and fitness, whom any German girl should be proud to sleep with. She had not told her father this before, for fear of what he might do, but recently, with no-one in the house to whom she could turn for protection, her situation had become desperate; on several occasions during the past week Dietrich had tried to get into her room.
That night he had smashed the lock on the door and forced his way in. Contrary to his expectations, he had not found Magda in bed, but busy packing up the parcel of clothes she meant to bring to the cottage.
For a moment it had seemed that he guessed the purpose of her preparations although she had swiftly assured him that the parcel was intended for a Brandenburg charity organisation. But she had felt it so vital to her father’s safety that the Nazi’s mind should be immediately and completely diverted from the question of the clothes that instead of calling her mother and the servants to assist her to get him out of her room she had begged him to be quiet so as not to wake them. That was enough to turn his thoughts to his original purpose in breaking in on her and to convince him that her resistance so far had only been feigned. With an ear-to-ear grin he had begun to unbuckle his belt and she had forced herself to allow him to make love to her. After he left her she had not dared to bring the clothes since, if he remembered about them, she would have to produce them the following day and let him see her dispatch them to Brandenburg.
As he listened von Lutz went white with rage and his hands began to tremble. Immediately Magda had finished sobbing out her tale he declared his intention of going up to the house there and then to drag the Nazi from his bed and shoot him.
Gregory, Charlton and, above all, Magda endeavoured to dissuade him from this step which would almost inevitably cost him his own life, but the thought that his daughter had been seduced, against her will, by one of these blackguards made the Prussian nobleman furiously reject any counsel of caution.
It had taken the best part of twenty minutes to piece together Magda’s half-incoherent ramblings and get the full story from her. For another quarter of an hour they stood there in the kitchen sitting-room, wrangling together and trying to turn her outraged father from his purpose, but at last, seeing that the Baron was determined on vengeance, Gregory said with a wry grin:
“All right; since you’re absolutely set on it Charlton and I will go with you and we’ll settle the two of them. No man who wears the uniform of a Nazi Storm-Trooper is fit to live. You’ll then have at least some chance of getting away with us. They probably only have to report to their boss in Brandenburg once a week and if we’re lucky we’ll have several days’ start before it’s known that your unwelcome guests have been eliminated.”
In spite of Magda’s renewed pleading they began to make their preparations. The Baron had his automatic and plenty of ammunition for it; Freddie had the old-fashioned revolver with which von Lutz had furnished him on their first day in the woods together while Gregory was still delirious. In order that they might put up a good fight if their hiding-place were discovered, and they had to resist an attack, four sporting-guns had also been smuggled to it from the manor-house by Hans. Gregory selected one of these and stuffed his pockets full of cartridges.
“Ready?” asked von Lutz impatiently.
The other two nodded, and shaking hands with Hans Foldar and his wife they thanked them most heartily for all that they had done for them. With a brief glance at Magda, who was now weeping on Frau Foldar’s ample bosom, the Baron threw open the cottage door.
The moon, which was at full that night was hidden by dense banks of cloud so it was dark outside and he stood clearly outlined against the light within. As he moved towards the open doorway Gregory’s quick ears caught the scraping of feet on the garden path. Temporarily blinded by the bright light in the cottage he could see nothing out there in the black night but he felt a sudden apprehension.
Had Carl Dietrich, after all guessed the real use to which the clothes Magda was packing up were to be put? Had he not gone to bed as she supposed, but roused his companion, lain in wait and followed her out through the woods?
Next second he knew. A guttural voice rapped out: “Hands up, Herr Oberst-Baron! You are our prisoner.”