Eva (28 page)

II.  
ANALYSIS

     Upon analysis of the above intelligence the following facts emerge:

1. The body of
   Eva Braun
   was positively identified by means of a crucial dental bridge.
   

2. According to SS Sturmbannführer Franz Gotthelf this same bridge was never fitted on subject and remained in a Berlin dental laboratory at the time of the alleged death and cremation of
   Eva Braun.
   

3. Had this bridge been on the body during the reported cremation, which was so severe it burned away most of the facial and cranial bones, the gold would have melted and the artificial teeth would have exploded or disintegrated. (Source: Bernard T. Haskins, Major (DC) 0562347, Unit Dental O. (AUS), Medical Detachment Headquarters Company, XII Corps.)
   

4. Subject Helga Bock saw
   Eva Braun
   alive on 1 May 1945, the day after the alleged suicide. Subject is considered reliable.
   

5. A handkerchief found in the place of hiding used by the woman believed to be
   Eva Braun
   bore the initials
   EB,
   indicating it did belong to said
   Eva Braun.
   

6. The Russians, for unknown reasons, are misleading the Allies in regard to the death of
   Eva Braun
   and—by inference—that of Adolf Hitler.
   

III.  
CONCLUSIONS

     Based on the above the conclusions reached by this investigator are:

1. The crucial dental bridge was
   not
   on the body of the woman identified as
   Eva Braun
   when said body was burned.
   

2. The bridge was added to the remains at a later date, reasons unknown.
   

3. The cremated body therefore could not have been identified as that of
   Eva Braun,
   but that of someone else, since
   Eva Braun
   was seen alive after the cremation took place.
   

4. For reasons unknown the Nazis wanted the world to believe that
   Eva Braun
   was dead; and the Russians for their own purposes are perpetuating the deception.
   

5. Eva Braun,
   accompanied by an SS officer, is at this moment attempting to exfiltrate Germany via the B-B Axis escape route.
   

IV.  
RECOMMENDATIONS

     The questions arise
why
the elaborate deception was carried out by the Nazis, and
why
the Russians are perpetuating it? It is believed imperative that these questions, which pertain to the vital facts regarding the reported deaths of both
Eva Braun
and Adolf Hitler, be investigated and concluded.

        Since under the circumstances it is not possible to conduct a normal search and seize operation, it is recommended that this investigator be placed on special detached duty from CIC Det. 212 to operate undercover, and via the B-B Axis pursue the subjects until said subjects can be identified and apprehended.

        Because time is of prime importance in this case it is requested that orders to this effect be cut, effective immediately.

Brigadier General Irwin Buter, Chief of Staff, XII Corps, put down the report. He looked at the three men seated before him. “That’s quite a yarn,” he said. “Disturbing—if the conclusions drawn are correct. Interesting—even if they aren’t.” He turned to his Assistant Chief of Staff, G-2, Colonel Richard H. Streeter. “Dick,” he said, “how about it?”

“I recommend we find a way to carry out Sergeant Ward’s recommendations,” Streeter said. “I think it’s important to find out why the Nazis and the Russians are playing games. That’s why I brought it to you at once. It’s a helluva unorthodox operation the sergeant proposes, but I think we can find a way to authorize it. And I think we should. No directives cover anything like it . . .”

“I’m not surprised,” the general interjected.

“. . . so we can write our own.”

Buter nodded. He turned to Major Hall. “Major,” he said, “what is your recommendation? The operation would be in your ball park.”

“I am for it, Sir,” Hall said. He frowned lightly. “There are—eh—some precedents for CIC agents to operate—eh—undercover. Agents have been placed in PW enclosures, for instance.”

Woody glanced at Hall in surprise. Good for old Mort, he thought. He’s really boosting this thing.

Buter nodded. He hid a little smile. Not much of a precedent, he thought with amusement. But it shows that the boy’s superiors are behind him. He turned to Woody.

“What makes you think you can carry it off, Sergeant?” he asked.

“Sir,” Woody said, “I speak German fluently. I have a thorough knowledge of the German armed forces and the SS.”

Buter tapped the report lying on the desk. “You state in your report that the escape route taken by Eva Braun ends in Bari, Italy. Why is it necessary for you to travel the entire route? Why not place a team in Bari and pick up this Eva Braun when she gets there?”

“Several reasons, Sir,” Woody said. “First, we have no idea what she looks like, nor what name she travels under. Secondly, there is always the possibility that she may leave the regular escape route at any point along the way. We would have to know. Also, the Nazi B-B Axis operatives are certain to have Bari under close observation; it is an important port of embarkation for top fugitives. Anything out of the ordinary, any unusual activities or presences would be detected and the exfiltration operation changed. We might lose her entirely. Only by traveling the route itself can anyone catch up with the subject and be certain to apprehend her before she leaves Europe.”

“What makes you think you
can
catch up with her? She and her companion already have several days’ head start.”

“I think I can travel faster, being alone,” Woody said. “than the SS officer can with Eva Braun along.”

“Why travel the whole route? Why not enter the stream of it at a later point?”

“That is not possible, Sir. I know only one route stop. In Eisenach. That stop in turn will know the next stop in line along the route—and so on. I will have to go from stop to stop.”

Buter nodded. “I see. And how will you accomplish being accepted as a B-B Axis fugitive?”

“Sir, I will assume the identity of an SS Captain, an officer who was in charge of the guards at the Flossenburg Concentration Camp. A wanted war criminal. He is in our custody. We have his papers.”

Buter leaned back in his chair. He studied Woody for a moment. “Why are you volunteering for this mission?” he asked. “I have seen your record. It is one you can be proud of. Why are you committing yourself to an operation which not only will take considerable time, but is also exceedingly risky and dangerous? You could be home in a week or two.”

“Sir, I still need seven points.”

Buter nodded. “As of today,” he said. “Monday the point requirements for enlisted men will be lowered. You’ll have more than enough to be sent home.”

Woody stared at the General. “Be sent—home,” he repeated. The thoughts tumbled in his mind. He didn’t need the damned five points! He could chuck the whole stinking case. Right now. And be home free. In a couple of weeks. He suddenly realized he didn’t care. To hell with the points. To hell with going home—before he’d cleared up the Eva case. No way was he going to let go now. Sheepishly he realized that secretly he’d felt that way all along, but the decision had been buried by the obligatory griping. “Sir,” he said solemnly, “I consider the case of extreme importance. A lot of questions have been raised by developments that need to be answered. If Eva Braun Hitler is still alive—is Adolf Hitler alive, too? Why did the Nazis go to such lengths to hide the fact that she is, in fact, alive? And why have the Russians gone along with it? Those are just some of the points that need clarification.” He paused. He looked earnestly at Buter.

“Right now, Sir, I know more details of the case than anyone else. I conducted the investigation and all the interrogations. There is no time to train another agent or an OSS operative, no time to get them ready to take over the mission. Right now, Sir, I am the man best qualified for the job.”

Buter carefully took the measure of the young agent sitting across from him. He nodded.

“I agree,” he said. “Go to it!”

Woody was getting impatient. Now that the “go” decision had been made he was itching to be on his way. But what little remained of Tuesday and most of the night had been taken up with damned preparations. Hall, with the full concurrence of both Streeter and Buter, insisted that all possible safeguards be employed in the operation. They were right, of course, but damned precious time was being pissed down the latrine.

There’d been the ID papers to obtain; the permits to forge; the clothing; the visit to Doc Elliott; and now—well into the morning of Wednesday—there was the matter of equipment and weapons.

“I’m not going to carry
any
weapons,” Woody stated emphatically. “Not even a penknife. I may feel naked, but that’s it. It would be totally out of character for a bonafide refugee, and a dead giveaway if I were searched. No special tricks.”

“I agree,” Hall mollified him. They were walking across the north sports field toward the HQ CO Supply Building. “I still want you to talk to Forbes. He’s quite a character. I think you’ll find it worthwhile.”

“What the hell is a Limey Sergeant Major doing at Corps anyway?” Woody grumbled.

“It’s a long story,” Hall said.

“I’ll just bet,” Woody snorted.

“Forbes was a member of the SOE. The Special Operations Executive. The British espionage and sabotage organization—the counterpart to our cloak-and-dagger boys. He was part of a so-called Jedburg team—a team of agents made up in England of men of two or three nationalities for operations on the Continent. He was dropped into Czechoslovakia. When his position was overrun by the Russians, he chose to make his way to American-held territory and showed up at Corps. He’s going to be sent back home as soon as we can get around to it,” he said. “Meanwhile he’s having the time of his life showing our boys some of the tricks he developed for SOE.”

“Sounds like a real Rover Boy,” Woody muttered.

“Actually, he was a music hall performer,” Hall told him. “A magician and escape artist. Played the provinces mostly, I’m told.”

“And I bet his idol was Houdini,” Woody snorted.

“No bet,” Hall said, with a grin.

Sergeant Major Henry Asquith Forbes, formerly “Forbes the Fabulous,” a bear of a man with a personality like a gust from a blast furnace, looked Woody up and down. From the pained expression on his craggy face it was evident he’d didn’t like what he saw.

“You’re the bloke what’s going undercover,” he stated rather than asked.

Woody gave Hall an irate glance. Why the hell not advertise his mission in the
Stars and Stripes,
for chrissake!, he thought angrily. Forbes seemed to read his mind. “I don’t know what your bloody job is, mate, and I don’t bloody well want to know,” he barked. “My job is to fit square pegs into round holes.” He squinted dubiously at Woody. “I’ll do my best for you.”

“Sergeant Major Forbes has developed some very useful—and ingenious—special equipment,” Hall said, trying to calm the blossoming animosity.

Woody still bristled. “Listen,
Sergeant Major,”
he snapped. “I’m not about to run around loaded down with outlandish Buck Rogers contraptions stashed all over me. I don’t care what brilliant gimmicks you’ve come up with. By now the Krauts, and everyone else, know all about them. I sure don’t want some zealous SOB to do a job on me and come up with razor blades in my cap visor or a saw in my lapel, or whatever you special equipment experts can dream up. Not on this job. Nothing doing!”

Forbes looked at him with pitying disdain. “Making quite a to-do about it, aren’t we, what?” he snorted. “And what would you do if you found yourself on a sticky wicket, old chap?”

“I’d manage—old chap,” Woody countered bitingly.

Hall stood silent. He rather enjoyed the cockfight aspect of the confrontation. He’d let them work it out for themselves, he thought. He was confident they would. They were both tops in their fields, and top men sooner or later find that out about each other and get to appreciate one another. He also realized that Woody was keyed up. Needed to work off steam. It was good for him.