"I don't know. But these Finns are extraordinarily patriotic. Both Germans and British consider themselves patriotic people gut I don't think either of us has this love for our country so deeply in us as the Finns. Perhaps it's because they have only had theirs as a free people for such a little time. Every one of `the men whom I have talked to these last few days says he would much rather fight than give in to Russia; and by that they don't mean fight as our peoples would-with a good chance of coming back alive or, if they're wounded, being evacuated to a comfortable hospital where they'll have every attention until they're well again. By fight they really mean go out and die; because even the most optimistic of them know that Finland can't possibly stand up to Russia’s weight of numbers. They're openly- making bets with each other as to how many Russians each of them will kill before he is killed himself."
Gregory remained silent for a moment. By his impostures in England, France and Germany he had caused the death of numerous innocent people, through no fault of his own. It was just his luck that he had managed to get away whereas they had been caught and had died as a result of their association with him; yet he had left a scarlet trail of blood behind him. Now he was an impostor once more, posing as Colonel-Baron von Lutz; and to what end? To plunge a whole nation into war when perhaps the wholesale suffering and death which war would inevitably bring might possibly be avoided.
He sighed. "Poor fellows, it's pretty frightful for them, isn't it? And it makes me feel an utter swine to think that it's my job to try to persuade their Government to take the step which will make their sacrifice necessary, when their lives would at least be safe if they gave Russia what she wants."
Erika shook her head. "They don't want their lives at such a price; and I believe they're right about that. It's not only the dishonour they would feel in having given up everything that they've worked for these last twenty years; they know that once they allowed the Reds through the Mannerheim Line no-one's life or liberty would be safe in Finland. All the writers, the officers, the capitalists, the deputies and the leaders of Finnish thought would be shot. The Universities and schools would be closed; there would be riots among the students and the Red Guards would shoot them down. Then Stalin would conscript the leaderless masses for forced labour and transport them into the depths of Russia. It would be the same frightful business of race extermination as is now going on in Poland. In five years' time there wouldn't be a Finn left in Finland."
"No. I suppose that's true," Gregory agreed, "and rioting wouldn't do them any good once the Reds were in here. If they're going to fight they must fight now. Holding the Mannerheim Line is the only chance they've got. If only they had an Air Force as good as their Army-small as it is-I'd be a bit happier about things, though."
"Yes. That'll be the worst part-the bombing. But the women here seem as brave as the men, and they've made up their minds to face it."
"We'll pray they don't have to. After all, everybody thought that the Germans would bomb London the first day of the war; but they didn't; they haven't bombed it yet. There's just a chance that Stalin may not be altogether indifferent to world opinion and may refrain from using his Air Force on that account. But let's get back to Wuolijoki. I've got an appointment with him at three o'clock-as von Lutz, of course-so I'll keep it, present Goering's letter, tell him what's happened and ask his help."
"If you're going to ask him for any assistance which might prejudice his official position I think you'd better see him here. Even walls have ears, as they say, and I doubt if the Finnish Foreign Office is any exception."
"My clever sweetheart," he kissed the backs of her fingers one by one, "how right you are. And even if there's no leakage to the outside world, we don't want to compromise Wuolijoki with his own people should he be game to help us. D'you think you could persuade him to come out here?"
Erica released herself from his embrace, stood up, smoothed out her skirt and walked over to the telephone. "I'll try," she smiled.
It took her a quarter of an hour to get through but at last she was connected with Wuolijoki and told him that the person with whom he had an appointment at three o'clock was with her. For special reasons, which she could not explain, it was highly desirable that the interview should take place in private so, she asked, could he come out to the von Kobenthals'?
Wuolijoki said that he was frantically busy but that if the matter was really urgent he would endeavour to do so about tea-time. Erika assured him that it was of the utmost importance and begged him to come out at once. but the best he could do was to promise that he would definitely call between four and half-past. She then hung up.
She had hardly told Gregory the result of her conversation when they both caught the sound of a low, distant murmur like the rushing of a great wind. "Planes " exclaimed Gregory, and they both ran to the window.
As they reached it the murmur increased to a thunderous roar and, staring out over the snow-covered islands of the bay up into the pale-blue sky, they saw scores of black dots which within a few seconds took shape as great black war-planes rushing towards them. It was squadron after squadron of the Red Air Force coming up across the Gulf of Finland from their new bases in Estonia, less than fifty miles away.
Chapter XIV
To Singe The Gestapo’s Beard
GRABBING Erika's arm as the leading planes hurtled low overhead, Gregory ran her towards the door. "Quick” he cried, as he flung it open. "Where's the cellar?"
"It's only a demonstration," she protested, pulling back. "We should have been certain to have heard of it if war had been declared."
"It may be a demonstration with bombs," he said grimly. "Nobody ever declares war these days, so we're not taking any chances. If I were manning a machine-gun I'd stay aboveground and see the fun but only fools risk their necks when they're powerless to help with any form of retaliation. If we're wounded we'll only make more work for the ambulance men. Come on Where's that cellar?"
"You're right." Erika had to shout to ensure herself being heard above the din that the planes were now making as they circled within a hundred feet of the roof-tops. "This way. The von Kobenthals have converted one of the rooms in the basement into an air-raid shelter."
She led him downstairs and along a corridor to a room, the ceiling of which had been shored up with big baulks of timber and its windows, only half of which were above ground-level, were protected with sand-bags. A fat woman-obviously the cook-was sitting there knitting and the maid who had let Gregory in was with her. The von Kobenthals were out, and two days before they had packed their two children and governess off to Sweden; but it soon transpired that a third maid was somewhere in the house, so forbidding Erika and the others to leave the room Gregory went up to look for her.
He found the girl in the back-garden, hands on hips, calmly staring up at the great black planes which might discharge their lewdly cargoes at any moment; but she understood German and on Gregory's ordering her into the house she reluctantly accompanied him down to the basement.
Erika had turned on a wireless and had managed to pick up some dance-music which partially drowned the deep booming note of the planes. They sat there for some twenty minutes, but no bombs fell and, as the Finnish anti-aircraft squads kept their heads, no guns opened fire. Then the booming ceased and they knew that the Red air-armada had gone home after only showing itself as a ghastly threat to the people of Helsinki.
Upstairs in the sitting-room again Gregory found that it was only a little after three o'clock so there was still at least an hour to wait before Wuolijoki could be expected. There was nothing that he could do in the meantime so he and Erika were free to curl up on the sofa and glory in the joy of being together again while, in snatches of talk that were interspersed with frequent kisses, they exchanged particulars of what had befallen them during the time they had been separated. At four o'clock he reluctantly released her so that she could go and tidy her hair before Wuolijoki put in an appearance.