"Have they succeeded in quelling the rebellion now?"
"Oh, yes. The Gestapo doused the flames all right but there their still plenty of red hot embers kicking around. The Czechs loathe us Germans to the very guts and neither the troops nor police dare move about the city in squads of less than six after dark, for fear of being sand bagged or stabbed in the back. Of course, it's those filthy Jews who are at the root of the trouble; ' Prague simply swarms with them."
Gregory felt that from what he knew of the Czechs they were quite capable of making plenty of trouble for the Germans without any assistance from the .Jews, but he was sorry to hear that hey had risen in force when the time was not yet ripe and had suffered so severely in consequence. It would have been so much better had they waited until later in the war and made their effort to regain their freedom after Germany had been weakened by the blockade or had suffered some serious reverse. As it was, by the abortive rising they had done little material good either for themselves or for the Allies and it must almost certainly have robbed them of many of their best leaders, which was a tragic Business.
Wentsich went on to describe how thousands of Black Guards had been rushed on motor cycles to the scene of the trouble for the purpose of suppressing the riots and guarding the public buildings. President Hacha had been made a prisoner and was confined to a room in the old castle. The universities, which were such hotbeds of anti German feeling, had been closed for three years, and in addition to the shooting of 1,700 Czech and Jewish leaders thousands more had been deported or forced labour in Germany.
So accustomed has the mind become to accounts of mass persecution and even slaughter that it is apt no longer to grip and such statements as the Ober Lieutenant was making, but the full horror of the facts that lie behind newspaper headlines Gregory consciously tried to visualize just a fraction of the abysmal woe which must have stricken the Czech people during the last week.
For every one of those 1,700 deaths loves, friendships and life long ambitions must have been cut off. All those thousands of men dragged away into exile left behind them distraught families, many of which had now been robbed of all protection or support. Countless parents were mourning the loss of their sons; countless wives and sweethearts weeping for the men who had been torn from them by the brutal agents of the Gestapo, countless children were left fatherless; countless girls and young married women, who had no means of earning their own living, were left at the mercy of any man who would offer them enough money to buy the food they must have to keep the life in their bodies.
In his mind's eve he saw the big blond Storm Troopers breaking into the houses, beating the Jews with their rubber truncheons, frog marching the Czechs through the streets into captivity, pulling the prettier girls from their hiding places in attics and cellars to provide brutal fun in the nearest bedroom while their parents were held prisoner.
It seemed impossible to believe that the big, blond, cheerful Wentsich, who was entertaining them so hospitably, was capable of committing such atrocities; yet Gregory knew that, had the Ober Lieutenant happened to be drafted to Prague in this emergency, he would have acted in exactly the same way as his colleagues.
Perhaps he and his like were not altogether responsible for their actions, owing to the madness which had swept Germany and bound a great proportion of her younger, more virile men to obey any order which came down to them from the criminal lunatic whom they regarded as God and called the Führer.
But one thing was certain: even if such men were only partially responsible in the degree of leniency or brutality with which they executed their orders, those orders had been given; and the Monster of Berchtesgaden could not escape the utter condemnation of the whole civilized world for all this incredible suffering and misery which his insane ambition was causing.
"Eh? What was that you were saying about the Finns?" Gregory suddenly roused himself. "So the trouble has flared up again?"
"Yes; only to day," the Ober Lieutenant nodded. "The Russians accused the Finns of having fired on their troops with artillery, killing an officer and three privates. Molotov has lodged a protest which almost amounts to an ultimatum. He insists that the Finns are threatening Leningrad."
"What nonsense” Gregory laughed. "The Finnish nation consists of only about four million people, whereas the Soviet's population is somewhere near one hundred and ninety millions. It's absolutely absurd to suggest that a little people like the Finns could possibly threaten the Soviet with its colossal armies and air fleets."
"Anyhow, the Russians are insisting that the Finns should withdraw their troops sixteen miles from their frontier."
"But that's impossible l It would mean their surrendering the Mannerheim Line, and how on earth could they be expected to do that? If they once gave up all the forts and gun emplacements south of Lake Ladoga into which they've put every penny they could raise for years they would leave their principal cities in the south of Finland absolutely unprotected. The Russians have such enormous superiority of numbers that they could just walk in and take them any time they chose."
"If you ask me, that's what they mean to do," Wentsich grinned.
They talked on about the war until well after four in the morning, when the door was flung open and a fat, bald headed officer stumped into the room. Wentsich immediately rose and clicked his heels. presenting Gregory as Colonel Claus and the prisoner as Flight Lieutenant Rogers.
The bald man was a major of Storm Troopers and rapped out his name, Putzleiger, in reply. He seemed to be in a particularly ill temper perhaps from having had to get up so early in the morning and, since the S.S. and the Reichswehr were always more or less at loggerheads, his temper was not improved by finding an Army Colonel in his Mess.
But immediately he learned that the Herr Oberst was on his way to Goering his manner changed entirely; and when Gregory skilfully managed to imply that he knew the Field Marshal personally the Major became positively gushing. He asked Wentsich if he had rung through to the station to find out for the Herr Oberst how late the Berlin train was likely to be.
Wentsich replied that he had not, but that he had intended to do so later on, nearer the time when the train was due.
"Get through at once, then," ordered the Major, and picking up the telephone Wentsich asked the exchange downstairs to put him through to the station.
When he had made the inquiry he turned back to them. "It is the train from Düsseldorf that you would catch, which is due in at five twenty, but they report that it is nearly two hours late already so I doubt if it will reach Belzig much before seven thirty."
Gregory knew how the railway services had gone to pieces in war time Germany so there was nothing unusual about a train running several hours behind schedule when nearing the end of its journey. He just nodded and said:
"Well, it can't be helped. We'll wait here if we may; but the delay is annoying as I am naturally anxious to be able to report with my prisoner to the Field Marshal as soon as possible."
"Yes," agreed the Major. Then suddenly snapping his fingers he exclaimed: "But I have it if I had been fully awake I should have thought of it before. The reason I am up so early is that I must see a man in Berlin before he goes on duty this morning. What is to prevent your coming in my car with me.
As Gregory accepted the offer he felt like laughing; he was so tickled with the idea that an officer of Hitler's Storm Troopers should actually be providing him with transport back to the Capital which he was so anxious to reach. He had been by no means certain that he would be able to secure accommodation on the train without facing the searching questions of the local railway transport officer and on their arrival in Berlin he knew that at any moment he might be asked to produce, identification papers which he had not got. But here was this heaven sent offer to travel in comfort, and free of charge, with a man whose uniform alone would render Freddie and himself; immune from all questioning so long as they were with him.