Strong spoke quickly, cutting Bedell-Smith off with a look of apology.
“Sir, I tend to lean towards the view, given the air raids that had pummelled the eastern seaboard of the USSR and the severe destruction of their rail network, that transport by submarine, even though it would take longer, was probably viewed as safer and more secret. We already know of five rail crashes that have occurred due to poor repair work. The Japanese were certainly and recently on the west coast of Africa. The evidence for that is quite clear on that, but I tend to agree that if these centrifuges are anywhere, they’re on mainland Russia.”
Eisenhower lit another cigarette and formulated his decision.
“Right. Sir Kenneth, you’ll head up a group that has one task. Find out where these machines are. Hand off your normal duties to your deputy. I don’t see any need for this to be quiet, do you? There’s no orders to that effect, so be open and thorough.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Suborn anyone you need, on my authority. One mission. Find them, and damn quick.”
Strong nodded.
“Walter, get orders cut to our reconnaissance troops. I want new photos of everything, and all the old photos looked at again. I’ll speak with Sir Stewart and Sam Rossiter… have them liaise with Sir Kenneth directly… but keep me in the loop.”
Strong nodded again, spilling a drop of tea on his immaculate uniform.
“Find this equipment and find it fast, gentlemen. Spare no effort.”
The meeting dissolved quickly, leaving Eisenhower alone with Strong, who had surprisingly remained behind, something that alarmed him greatly.
“I take it you have something else of concern… something you don’t want to share at the moment?”
“Indeed, Sir.”
Strong slipped a sheet of paper out of his briefcase and placed it in front of the NATO commander in chief.
“What am I looking at exactly?”
“Bear with me please, Sir. That’s the original submission on German production of vehicles of all types, covering November last. I’ve pulled this page from the report. It deals with tank production, Sir.”
“I’ve seen our report, so these figures are not news, Sir Kenneth.”
Ike didn’t mean it to sound terse, but it did.
“Beg pardon, Sir, but you will have seen these figures, but not the actual ones.”
He produced another sheet and placed it next to the first.
Eisenhower didn’t need a translator to notice the differences.
“Schwarzpanther production is different. Administrative issue?”
“Could be, Sir. I don’t think so. The Germans keep pretty good records.”
He leant forward and pointed a finger at the two clashing figure.
“According to their submission to us, they produced sixty-five of the new Panther type, twelve with the gas-turbine engine, yet their other figures show ninety-two, of which thirty are the enhanced engine type. That’s not administrative error in my view… that’s a deliberate change, Sir.”
“Why?”
“That I don’t know, Sir.”
“Anything sinister in it, Sir Kenneth?”
“I really don’t know, Sir.”
“I’ll ask Vietinghoff. I’m seeing him later.”
“I’d strongly advise against doing that for the moment, Sir. There’s something else.”
He directed Eisenhower’s attention to items simply missing from the report submitted to NATO.
Ike absorbed the German words and numerals, an all too familiar word.
‘Panzer’.
He sought their repetition on the NATO report, but they were not to be found.
“Five Panzer VIIs… Panzer VII… refresh my mind please, Sir Kenneth.”
“Sir, as far as we’re aware the VII was an abandoned project from back in 42-43. There is no such tank.”
“And yet they have five?”
“So it would seem, and it would also seem important to conceal their existence from us… for reasons I cannot advise you on, Sir.”
“Again I must ask you, Sir Kenneth. Is there any sinister intent here? Could it simply be our ally wishing to produce a new weapon and surprise us with it at some time in the future?”
“Yes, it certainly could, Sir.”
Eisenhower narrowed his eyes.
“But?”
“But…”
“But combined with the possible tampering with the submission, and the keenness of the new relationship with the Poles, you advise caution and further investigation, Sir Kenneth?”
“Quite.”
He lit a cigarette and spent a few seconds looking at the two contradictory documents.
“Find out what this is about… let’s have a look at their reports and see if we can turn up anything else. I’d rather not be looking over my shoulder at Allies if anything goes wrong, so please get this wrapped up soon, Sir Kenneth.”
“Yes, Sir… and in the meantime… General von Vietinghoff?”
“OK, in the meantime I’ll say nothing about it to anyone, especially our German allies.”
“Thank you. I’ll get on it right away, Sir.”
Strong left the room, leaving Eisenhower more ill at ease than he had felt since pen was put to paper in Sweden all those months previously.
He sat back to consume a cigarette and order his thoughts, a process that was interrupted by an urgent knock and the entry of Colonel Hood.
‘Surely the day can’t get worse?’
The day got worse.
Civil war had erupted in Czechoslovakia.
1313 hrs, Wednesday, 22nd January 1947, Dankerode, Germany.
The combined assault had gone like clockwork, the Polish armoured infantry sweeping in past the suppressing tanks of the newly reformed 11th Panzer Division, ‘Der Geist Division’ as it had been known in WW2.
The two units coordinated brilliantly and Guderian could barely conceal his joy at how the assault was conducted.
Right up to the moment that the exploitation force, comprising a company of re-engined Schwarzpanthers from the 1st Deutsch Legion Panzer Brigaden, accompanied by some their own integral panzer-grenadieres, ruined everything.
One by one the gas turbine engine Panthers fell out of line as faults declared themselves, leaving only three runners to accompany the tracked Kätzchen vehicles loaded with heavily armed infantrymen.
What had been a joyous experience of military expertise turned sour quickly, and the commander of the II Deutsches Mechanisierte Korps [Legion] was quickly put in the spotlight.
“What in the name of the Fatherland’s going on there, Willi?”
He gave the Generalleutnant no chance to reply.
“The whole unit’s spread across the field… not by the umpires but by clear failures in maintenance!”
Again, the commander of II DMK[L] had no opportunity to offer a view or defence, as Guderian was on a roll.
“I want that piece of piggery investigated and the report on my desk first thing in the morning!”
“Jawohl, Herr Feldmarschal.”
“If that had been a proper advance the grenadiers’d have been ripped to pieces because your tanks couldn’t move forward without breaking down. What the hell are your maintenance units playing at, man?”
“The new gas-turbines still have teething problems, Herr Feldmarschal. We thought we’d sorted the cut-out issue… clearly not.”
Guderian took another look across the exercise area, now littered with broken-down tanks and APCs unsure of what to do next.
He beckoned the general off to one side.
“Look, Willi. We simply can’t have fucks ups like this. You know… you know what we hope to achieve in the future, and we’ll need all our forces at their peak. You and your men were given the new Panthers because of your pedigree. Sort this… sort this now. Either these new engines are fit for purpose and we can look at the tactical advantages they offer, or we discard them and remain with the proven Maybachs. It’s that simple, Willi.”