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“Take this back to the officer in charge of unloading your railcars. Then personally accompany the cargo to the dock master,” ordered the SS colonel. “Once the dock master accepts your cargo, you are relieved of the duty and will report back here to me.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Schneider.

Great, thought Rauch; back to that bastard out there again. With that they both turned and walked out onto the platform just as their railcars were starting to be unloaded. Leiper followed them outside onto the platform and watched as they walked to their railcars. Rauch did not want to show it but he was very uneasy. He would be very relieved to be done with all of this. He had seen the Gestapo operate. He had seen seemingly innocent men taken away, never to be seen again. With his two run-ins with the Gestapo, he felt he was at his limit. He didn’t think he would survive another encounter. Rauch took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Calm down, he told himself, or you will get yourself shot.

Rauch and Schneider walked over to the first car and watched as the crates, all one hundred and eight were off-loaded and placed on several iron-wheeled carts for the hundred yard trip over to the docks. The men strained with each crate. Again Rauch noted that these mysterious crates had to be very heavy. What was in those crates?

Once the crates were loaded onto the carts the cargo was covered with a heavy tarp and manhandled down past the station and around the corner to the docks. SS guards were everywhere. As they rounded the station, Rauch saw the submarines for the first time. There were at least twelve tied up side by side and end to end down the docks nearest to the train station. Steady streams of men were loading boxes similar to the ones they had ferried here onto the U-boats. Dwarfed by the cargo ship, neither Rauch nor Schneider had seen the U-boats when they got off of the train. U-boats, thought Rauch. This was the first time he had ever seen one.

Suddenly horror overcame him. What if he was expected to accompany the crates onto the U-boats? Holy shit, not that! He wanted nothing to do with going onto a submarine. Surely that was not their plan. He tried to put it out of his mind and focused on getting his cargo to the destination.

The cart caravan slowed as it crossed a short section of a cobblestone street. The iron wheels of the carts with the heavy loads were giving the soldiers fits crossing the street. It was then that one of the heavy crates shifted. One soldier tried to catch it but the momentum was too much. It fell off of the cart from under the tarp, crashing down on top of the soldier. He screamed with pain as the crate snapped his leg immediately, bending it in a most unnatural position. Even with crushing the man’s leg, the crate hit the cobblestones and smashed a corner of the crate. Within seconds, the SS guards swarmed the crate, totally disregarding the man writhing in pain. As some of the other men tried to help the injured man, the SS shoved them away as other guards jumped into the fray with submachine guns aimed at the men. Additional SS troops jumped in to cover the smashed crate with another tarp.

Rauch was amazed at the speed of the SS. It seemed that they were expecting something like this to happen. They were instantly all around the crate like a swarm of bees. Then he saw why. It all became very clear to him. Everything fell into place, the trucks, the secrecy, the bunker, the SS, the heavy crates; it all made sense. For clearly visible between the legs of the SS guards in a crease between two tarps were several metal bars. As he stood there, even more SS appeared from nowhere and physically pushed everyone back as other guards raced in with more tarps and tools to cover the spilled cargo and repair the crates.

Gold! The cargo was gold. Rauch stepped back away from the carts and stood staring at the submarines. Ahhh… thought Rauch. The gold was going on the submarines and being taken to somewhere far from here. But taken where?

“Sir, did you… ”

“Yes, Schneider,” said Rauch as he placed his hand on Schneider’s arm to calm him. “I see it; yet I don’t see it. It’s not our affair, Leutnant. We have a job to do. We must get that cargo delivered to the dock and get the hell out of here.”

“Yes, sir,” acknowledged Schneider as they both watched the SS move everyone away and seal off the area before they repacked and repaired the crate to place it back on the cart.

Once all of the carts reached the docks, Schneider marched up to the SS officer manning the dock beside the submarines.

“I am Oberleutnant Schneider reporting for Major Rauch. We have one hundred eight crates to deliver.”

“Very well, Schneider. Are all crates accounted for?” he asked pointedly.

“Yes, sir, all accounted for, sir!” belted Schneider. “But I would prefer that you verify our count.”

The SS officer snapped his head around looking Schneider square in the eyes.

“Is there a reason you cannot vouch for your cargo, Oberleutnant?” quizzed the SS officer.

“No, sir, I just thought… ”

“Oberleutnant, we will confirm all shipments, not just yours,” the SS officer said condescendingly. “All shipments will be verified and accounted for before being loaded. You are personally responsible for any losses. Personally responsible, is that clear?” hissed the SS officer staring directly into Schneider’s eyes. “If any cargo is missing, you will be shot!”

“Yes, sir,” answered Schneider, clearly surprised, deciding less said, the better. He was clearly rocked by the intenseness of the SS officer’s response and stare.

As each crate came off of the carts and was stacked neatly on the dock, Schneider continued his count, stopping only when his count reached one hundred eight and there were no more. Schneider sighed with relief. Thank God there was nothing missing! The SS officer finished his count, verified his numbers and recorded the numbers on his forms. He rechecked his figures and handed his clipboard with the forms to Schneider.

“All is correct, Oberleutnant,” snapped the SS officer. “Did you think you had lost something?” he said cracking a snide smile. “Sign here, please.” He handed Schneider a pen.

“No, sir,” answered Schneider with a new sense of courage, convinced that everything was in order.

Schneider looked over the forms, noted there was no mention of the cargo within the crates and signed the forms. As he handed the clipboard and pen back, the officer barked out an order to load the crates into the second submarine. Schneider watched as the submarine commander checked the officer’s records against his. With all seeming correct, the sub commander turned to his second in command and ordered the crates placed on board.

“Are we finished here?” asked Rauch, standing behind Schneider.

“Yes,” said Schneider as he watched the first crate disappear below the deck, “we are finished.” He was clearly relieved.

At that moment the SS officer marched over to the two officers watching the loading. The Gestapo agent appeared again just a few feet away.

“You two,” barked the SS officer as he pointed to Rauch and Schneider. “Gather your troops in this truck and report to this barracks for further orders.” He handed Schneider a small piece of official looking paper with a map and directions to a location several miles inland.

“Yes, sir,” saluted Schneider as he took the paper and turned to Rauch.

“We were expected to check back in at the station,” stated Rauch, reaching for the paper.

“There is no need for that,” barked Leiper, stepping forward. “Do you have a problem with your orders, Major?”

“No, sir, but the SS colonel in charge expects us to report back to him,” explained Schneider, trying to be helpful.

“I am in charge here. Make no mistake about that! Carry out your orders, Oberleutnant,” stated Leiper matter-of-factly in a chilling voice, all the time staring directly at Rauch. His eyes were daring Rauch to speak.