These were prisoners from the large concentration camp at Dachau and other satellite camps. They all looked gaunt and sickly. Even though it was still winter, they were dressed in rags and many were barefoot. Their eyes were dead and they could barely shuffle. They were being marched south to work on the Alpine Redoubt. She wondered how many of them would make it and how much work they would be able to perform even if they did arrive alive.
They were divided into groups of about a hundred and each group was guarded by members of the Volkssturm, the People’s Storm that had been created by the SS a few months earlier. These so-called soldiers were too old or too young or too sick or crippled to fight in a regular force. This did not stop some of them from being sadists. She forced herself to watch as one prisoner fell and was beaten and kicked until he staggered to his feet. How long would he last? she wondered. A few moments later, she heard a gunshot through the window and knew the answer.
She couldn’t tell if any provision had been made to feed the prisoners. How could starving men work? she wondered. All of Germany was on short rations because of the war and it made macabre sense that prisoners would only get leftovers. But what was the point of marching them somewhere just so they could die? Of course, the Nazis were anything but logical. She was living proof of that. After all, was she a Jew or wasn’t she?
She sensed that Anton was behind her. “You are very fortunate, Lena. You could be one of them.”
“I know,” she said softly. She wanted to cry but would not let Anton see her weakness.
He put his hand on the small of her back and began caressing her. “Don’t do that,” she said.
Anton laughed throatily. He leaned into her and she could feel that he was aroused. “My father only said that I couldn’t fuck you because you are a Jew. Not only do I think that he’ll forget all about that little rule when we have to leave, but I don’t believe in it anyhow. Even if he beats me, I think it would be worth it.”
He slid his hands around and up, cupping her breasts. “Too small. A real German woman would be bigger.”
She reached behind and grabbed his erect manhood. “So would a German man,” she said, squeezing hard and twisting. He gasped in pain and let go of her. She released his penis and pushed him away. “I am now going to help your mother with housework. I strongly suggest that you not try that again.”
Anton held himself as the pain subsided. To her surprise, he laughed, “At least not until a better time.”
He went outside to get a better look at the inmates passing by. He would join other good Germans and abuse them. Spitting on them seemed particularly amusing. Lena watched through a window and realized that she would have to make her decision soon. She already had an emergency package that contained extra warm weather clothing. She would have to add food and other items essential to surviving in the woods. She had never slept outdoors in her life, but that was likely to change very soon. It would be better, she determined, to die in the woods than to be abused by Anton and then sentenced to a living death helping the Nazis.
* * *
Ernie Janek had gone for an evening’s walk. He was taking a break from the intense physical training at the embassy and decided that a beer was in order. Previously he’d gone to a tavern a few blocks away, and decided that a visit to a new one was in order. He had taken a seat and ordered. He had only taken a couple of swallows when he noticed two burly men sizing him up. They had short-cropped hair, which marked them as military, and he was willing to bet money that they were Nazis. Like an idiot he had just stumbled into a bar that was frequented by Nazis. He decided to act like he was drunk. With a clatter, he dropped some change on the table. He staggered outside and into an alley where he leaned against a wall and pretended to pee.
Ernie Janek sensed the presence behind him. He willed himself to stay calm. He would be immobile and not even change his breathing, which was shallow and, he hoped, silent. He was not a large man. There wasn’t room for anyone with any size in the cockpit of a P51. But he was stocky and powerfully built. He hoped the two German goons thought he would be easy pickings.
The presence was to his left. Good. When it was only a couple of feet away, he exploded. He kicked the man in the balls and grabbed him by the throat before he could scream. He punched the man in the temple and felt him go slack. Now where the hell was the other one?
Ernie stepped over the first man, who wasn’t moving. The second man looked stunned at Janek’s sudden transformation. Ernie feinted with his left fist and kicked the man in the meat of his thigh with his right foot. He too went down, howling with pain. Janek silenced him by kicking him in the side of the head. He ran back to the embassy. The Marine guards stiffened as they saw him but relaxed a little when they recognized him. He quickly explained the situation and they grinned at the thought of a little action.
He went to his room and called Dulles at his palatial residence on Herrengasse Street. Ernie had been there a couple of times and it really was a centuries old palace.
“That is most unusual,” said Dulles over the phone. “Thuggish behavior like that is frowned up on in neutral countries, especially neutral capitals. Well, I guess it’s about time to move you on and out. Tomorrow or the day after, however, I will want you with me when I meet with a Swiss banker. After that, you will be moved to another site. I will tell you more later. You might find what the banker has to say fascinating.”
Of course, Ernie thought. He hated it when Dulles was vague, but he understood-The phone might be tapped. Do not divulge future plans. But what about tonight’s episode? “Sir, what if those two guys are badly hurt, or maybe even more than badly?”
Dulles chuckled. “Then the master race would have to admit that they got the crap kicked out of them by one man. Even if you killed them, which I doubt, the Germans are highly unlikely to complain. If they pressed the issue, I suppose the Swiss could have you declared persona non grata and expelled from Switzerland, although I have no idea where you’d go. There is a war on, after all. No, we’ll get you out of Bern and somewhere more suitable. Is that a problem?”
“No sir.”
“Good and congratulations. I rather felt you had potential. In the meantime, stay where you are and I’ll be in touch.”
* * *
Josef Goebbels had reluctantly come to the conclusion that a pilgrimage to Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest at Berchtesgaden was a bad idea. His original thought was to gather all his senior military commanders there for a conference where they would be inspired by the spectacular views. Field Marshal Schoerner had sent a brief coded message that quickly talked him out of it. The Eagle’s Nest had no real military value, so it had not yet been seriously bombed. But the Americans might find out about the arrival of so many high-ranking Nazis and change their mind. American intelligence was often very good, which led some high-ranking officials to believe that there were spies at work.
Schoerner further convinced him that making Generals Vietinghoff and Rendulic travel over dangerous roads was a chance that should not be taken. Along with being away from their commands during this crucial period of time, their vehicles could be attacked by the swarming American fighters. Not all of them could be disguised as ambulances, Goebbels thought ruefully.
Magda had enthusiastically agreed. The sooner they got to the relative safety of the Redoubt the better. “There is no point in going to the Eagle’s Nest and crying over past glories. We must begin to build new ones. And the children are exhausted. I want them someplace where we don’t have to look up at the skies all day and hope that the Amis don’t suddenly decide to destroy ambulances.”
Her husband sometimes wondered if there was any place in the Reich where the Nazi faithful could be truly safe, but the mountains of the Alps would be much safer than riding down country roads. She looked up into the sky. Contrails marked where enemy planes flew with impunity. How nice it would be, she thought, to wipe away the arrogance of the Americans and their corrupt allies, the French and English.