Authors: Dennis Wheatley
“A sad ending to a gallant effort,
Herr Oberst-Baron
,” Gregory said, in an attempt to hearten the elderly officer, “but it is only a postponement. Germany will yet throw off the Nazi yoke.”
“Most true. But in the meantime the names of all who attacked the Gestapo Chiefs in the Adlon and of many other officers who participated in the revolt will haf been listed. If among the dead their bodies are not found they will be hunted, as the hares, to all corners of the Reich. Few of us who were in the rising of the 8th will live to see the day of freedom.”
“As far as you're concerned ⦔ Gregory paused to step back and support himself against a tree “⦠since you managed to get this far there's a decent chance that you may be able to remain in hiding until the time when there is a successful revolution.”
Von Lutz brushed up his grey moustache. “I shall certainly endeavour to do so; but if the Nazis hunt me out I intend to sell my life very dear.”
“It seems that the three of us are in the same boat,” Gregory smiled weakly; “although Charlton, here, could surrender peaceably if he wished, since when he was shot down he was acting as an R.A.F. officer on duty.”
“Oh, if there's any fighting you can count me in,” Freddie shrugged. “I'd rather take a chance with you two now than be starved to death in a prisoners-of-war camp. We couldn't put up much of a fight without arms; but perhaps the Baron could help us there?”
“Yes; arms and foodâthat's what we need,” muttered Gregory. “I'm afraid, though, that in my case I shan't be able to give much of an account of myself for a day or two.”
Von Lutz gave him a searching look. “You are pale. And surely those stains under your left arm are dried blood? Are you wounded?”
“I got one through the shoulder during that fight at the Adlon. The wound's not dangerous but it's become inflamed, and I've an idea that I was delirious last night.”
“You certainly were,” Freddie supplemented. “How're youfeeling now?”
“Pretty groggy. I'm still running a temperature.”
“For a hunted man that is bad.” The Baron's lined face creased into a frown. “We must do what we can for you. The Gestapo had their hands filled yesterday but by now they will on a nation-wide round-up haf started. They may come to make
search of my house at any time. But my family and my servants will do all possible to protect me. They will keep look-out while your wound is being made clean. To the house, then, gentlemen!”
“I hate to add to your difficulties, sir,” Gregory demurred.
For the first time the lean-faced Prussian aristocrat smiled. “Please. It makes nothing, as by this time there must on my own head be a price. If the coast is a clear one we will soon haf you fixed; also some breakfast which will put the better heart into us all.”
As they turned towards the house Freddie saw that Gregory's teeth were chattering and that he stumbled after he had moved a few yards, upon which he jumped to his assistance, realising that he had managed to carry on his recent conversation only by a terrific effort of will-power and was still in the grip of fever. When they reached the end of the kitchen-garden the Baron signed to them to halt and went forward cautiously on his own. After a moment he beckoned.
“It is goot. A towel hangs from my daughter's window. This signal I haf arranged with her.”
They followed him through the orchard and up some steps to a wide verandah at the back of the low white house. Although it was not yet seven o'clock, like all German households that of Colonel-Baron von Lutz was early astir. A plump maid-servant in voluminous petticoats was on her knees polishing the parquet of the room into which he led them. As they entered she scrambled to her feet and bobbed before her master.
“
Kuss die Hand, Herr Oberst-Baron
”
“
Guten Tag, Lenchen
” he nodded. “
Frangen Sie die Fräulein Magda hier stimpt, bitte.
”
The maid quickly collected her cleaning things and left the room while Freddie eased Gregory down into a near-by chair. A few moments later the door opened again and a tall girl in her middle-twenties came in. She was good-looking in a hard, healthy way. Her hair was very fair, her eyes china-blue; her skin was good and the colour in her cheeks was natural but, to Freddie, her lips and eyelashes seemed unduly pale as she wore no make-up, and her strong, well-proportioned figure did not show to its best advantage in the ugly ginger-coloured cloth coat-and-skirt that she was wearing.
When she had greeted her father he rapidly explained to her in German the reason for the presence of the two strangers. Freddie could not understand what was said but he caught the
phrase, “
Englische Fliege”,
and noticed
Fräulein
Magda's well-cut chin lift a little as she shot a sharp glance of disapproval at him.
He was quick to sense that as a patriotic German girl she did not like the idea of sheltering her country's enemies, but evidently Prussian discipline was maintained in the household and the Baron's wish was law. She said no word of protest but went over to Gregory at once and laid a cool hand on his forehead.
His eyes were now closed and he remained slumped forward in the chair. The father and daughter exchanged a few quick sentences and then the Baron turned to Freddie.
“Your friend ought to bed be put but here it is too dangerous to offer hospitality. My daughter a trained nurse is so she will give goot attention to his wound. After, we will eat, yes; then we must to the woods return.”
While Magda went for towels, hot water and bandages Charlton and the Baron partially undressed Gregory, who had now lapsed into semi-consciousness and become delirious again.
When she returned they found that the wound was suppurating badly. The flesh all round it was hot and puffy and when his temperature was taken it registered the Centigrade equivalent of 103.6 Fahrenheit. Having cleaned the wound and applied hot fomentations Magda dressed it with quick, efficient fingers, then directed them in making Gregory as comfortable as possible on a sofa.
Freddie was now seriously alarmed for him but since there was nothing else they could do he allowed his host to lead him into another room. Breakfast had been laid there, and, as they were about to sit down, an elderly woman came bustling in whom von Lutz introduced as his wife.
The
Frau Baronin
was fat, grey-haired and had a rather stupid face which was only relieved by china-blue eyes like her daughter's. She spoke no English and after greeting Charlton with a nervous smile remained silent, her thoughts evidently occupied by acute anxiety about her husband.
Owing to the Baron's having had to spend a night in the woods a special breakfast had been prepared. In addition to the usual cereals there was a roast hare, the tantalising odour of which made Freddie realise his hunger to such an extent that it was only with difficulty he prevented himself from eating ravenously. Somewhat to his surprise, there was a big pat of fresh butter, but this, von Lutz told him, came from the home-farm. There were also ample supplies of potato-bread and home-made
jam. The only weakness in an otherwise excellent meal was the weak coffee-substitute with which they had to wash it down.
During breakfast the Baron explained to Freddie the precautions he had taken to prevent their being surprised. Most of the men from the estate had been called up for the war but he still had half a dozen, over fifty, working on the place as farm-labourers and foresters. On his arrival the night before he had had them aroused from their beds and brought to the house so that he could explain his position to them. All of them came from local families who had served his own for several generations. Such of their younger members as had become influenced by the Nazi doctrines had been conscripted for the Army, but these older men were completely loyal.
On their expressing their willingness to do everything they could to shield him, von Lutz had organised them into watches which were to take turns in guarding the approaches to the house. Each man would be carrying a shot-gun during his turn on duty and if cars or any suspicious-looking strangers appeared whoever saw them was to fire off first one barrel of his gun then, after half a minute's interval, the other, as though shooting at a rabbit. The sentries were half a mile away but in the clear country-air the sound of the shots would easily carry that distance and give sufficient time for the fugitives to escape out of the house into the woods again.
Magda had tackled the maid-servants and farm-women, who had all sworn that no questioning would induce them to say that they had seen anything of the Colonel-Baron since he had last been home on leave in the first week of October.
When breakfast was over it was decided that Gregory must be carried out to the woods again and while von Lutz went upstairs to the attic to get an old camp-bed that they could use as a stretcher Magda fed the sick man with some spoonfuls of hot broth. Having fixed up the bed she packed round him all the hot-water bottles that could be found in the house, to keep him as warm as possible, then wrapped him in blankets; after which the Baron and Freddie carried him on the improvised stretcher out through the garden and back to the gully where they had spent the previous night.
By daylight they were able to find a better place in which to conceal themselves than any they had yet discovered. Some twenty yards further into the wood the gully grew deeper; the side of the bank was nearly five feet high and had fallen away leaving a hollow that was overhung by a mass of brambles. They
placed Gregory's bed in it and sat down near-by to await events.
Although the pale sunlight of the November morning was now slanting through the leafless branches of the trees it was still very cold. In his pocket Freddie had an old-fashioned revolver, given him by the Baron: the only weapon, apart from sporting guns, that the house contained, but that was not much comfort. It seemed pretty certain that Gestapo agents would visit the house some time during the day. If one of the farmhands proved unreliable, or one of the women-servants broke down under the questioning which they would have to face, the Nazis would surround the hiding-place and capture was certain. In any case, with the climate against them and a desperately ill man on their hands, Freddie did not see how they could possibly remain at large for long. But he was in this thing and he could only wait, with the best patience he could muster, to see what the day would bring.
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 1914â18; 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.”