“Thank-you, Herr Ludwig.”
“My pleasure Countess.”
Both were experienced in flirting by using pronouns, and their mutual attraction had them doing so right away. After dancing around social niceties, innuendos of interest, and hints of how they might spend their time, the Countess finally reached the point where she wanted to know something about the man in front of her.
“…and just what exactly is it that you do, Herr Von Wohl?”
“I’ve never met an astrologer before…”
“I never have either, but it appears I may be… very soon.” Bettina did not lift her eyes from the photograph in her hand.
“Goebbels is collecting astrologers now?” Maxi looked in the rear view mirror to confirm if she was serious.
“Well, he’s not coming here to look at my stars, at least I don’t think so.”
Despite working 14 hours a day for several weeks in one of the most bizarre offices in the Third Reich, Bettina still managed to maintain a sense of humor.
“He’s the expert on Nostradamus who will interpret some text that Herr Goebbels is really excited about.” Bettina replied as if the event were nothing unusual. From her nonchalant tone, Maxi wrongly concluded the dark looking man in the photo was merely one more eccentric coming to appease Goebbels’ ever changing list of strange new hobbies – such as tarot card readers, African and Egyptian tools and books on magic, ancient Roman and Greek coins, symbols from ancient Nordic tribes, just to name a few.
“Some passage that Goebbels is very excited about.” Bettina repeated. The repetition was still not enough to have it register in Maxi’s trained mind to obtain further information.
Because of Maxi’s deduction that Karl Krafft coming in to work on Nostradamus predictions was just another fad in Goebbels’ office, this information did not appear on Maxi’s next report to London. This omission would later cost the British and French forces thousands of lives, plus prevent the French 5th, 8th, and 12th armies from reinforcing the front lines when the German invasion of France began.
Karl Ernst Krafft was born on the 10th of May in Basle, Switzerland. Although a Swiss citizen, Karl Ernst was of Germanic origin, with both his mother Anna and father Carl coming from just across the river in Baden-Baden, Germany.
Karl Ernst’s sister, Anneliese, was born into the Krafft family a year after Karl Ernst on September 18, 1901. They were unusually close siblings, to the point that many relatives felt uncomfortable the way the two children seemed to know what each other was thinking – and what other people were thinking – when the two siblings were together.
Karl Ernst’s preoccupation with spiritualism and the occult began long before his university days at the University of Basle, where he officially enrolled on April 23, 1919. Fishing with his grandfather on the banks of the Rhine when he was five years old, is where Karl Ernst experienced his first spiritual vision:
“Grandfather, what kind of uniform is that?”
“What uniform… where?”
“The strange one that man has on, over there, on the other side.”
Grandfather Krafft looked in the direction where young Karl Ernst was pointing, but saw no one in uniform – only the common clothes of the other fishermen squatting on the opposite bank.
“Hmm.”
Karl Ernst could see his grandfather was becoming cross. The patriarch of the family was a serious man and did not like being made fun of, or to end up on the wrong side of a joke or prank. To change the subject, Karl Ernst sidestepped the conversation back to fishing, the only source of pleasure the old man would admit to.
“Oh, perhaps he took that coat off… what bait should we use now, grandfather…?”
The truth was Karl Ernst actually did see a man in an extraordinary uniform, and continued to see him as his grandfather returned to setting his line with new bait. Turning to Anneliese, Karl Ernst noticed her staring at the other side of the bank too. Puzzling Karl Ernst equally were the fishermen on the other side of the river did not seem to see this huge figure walking amongst them. Not so much as a glance was given towards the tall, completely pale walking statue, whose colorful costume would have turned the heads of hundreds at any parade.
Anneliese glanced at Karl Ernst, then back at the opposite bank. She saw him too.
When the Krafft fishing party returned home that evening, Karl Ernst researched the uniform burned within his memory at his father’s library, which contained a large collection of books over military history, equipment, and strategy. In “Uniforms of the World’s Armies: Past & Present”, written my Herr Thomas Titzel in 1899, Karl Ernst learned the uniform he saw was for a Prussian artillery captain, worn in 1879 in the war with France. Anneliese shook her head ‘yes’ immediately when he turned to the page the image was on.
“Beautiful uniform, isn’t it?” His father said in passing to put up his ledger for the Cardinal Brewery, where he was director.
After a few questions about the uniform, brigades, and battles in the Franco-Prussian war, Karl Ernst and Anneliese learned of a battle occurring on the very spot where all three were fishing that afternoon. The battle, taking place in 1879, included a Prussian and French artillery duel lasted for two days, where his great uncle, an artillery captain in the Prussian 3rd Brandenburg Regiment, died.
Chapter 2 – The Man
“But he’s Swiss… are you sure he can be trusted?”
“Every indication shows he can be, mein Führer.” The Gestapo captain had learned from the many others before him never to answer Adolph Hitler with a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’.
“And what indications are those?” The Führer questioned while turning to look out a recently scrubbed window. His hands were clasped behind his back while waiting for a reply, like a university professor drilling a student for answers he knew long ago.
The Gestapo captain, Hans Zangemeister, took three steps forward and placed a file consisting of several hundred pages on the Führer’s jet black oak desk with gold trim.
“Himmler himself has verified and approved his ancestry. Herr Krafft’s psychological profile shows he prefers Germany – where he has been living the past eighteen years – over his native Switzerland.”
Hitler nodded his head. “So I’ve heard… and what of this warning that he gave, the warning at Bürgerbräukeller?”
“Incredible, mein Führer. Before a meeting of the Berlin Astrological Society on November 2nd, Krafft warned of an attempt on your life between the 7th and 10th of November.” Zangemeister swallowed. He had no idea of Hitler’s reaction by the mention of the 1939 assassination attempt on his Führer’s life. He paused for a moment to see if the Führer’s mood was about to swing. Many times in the past he witnessed how one word could change Hitler’s mood from joyous to absolute rage.
The Führer looked at him with a plain face, as if expecting him to continue. Zangemeister did not however, for it was common knowledge how a bomb exploded in a pillar behind Hitler’s speaker platform on November 8th, 1939 on the 16th anniversary of the failed Beer Hall Putsch. With heavy fog preventing Hitler flying back to Berlin, he was forced to go by train, so finished his speech at the Bürgerbräukeller early. The bomb missed killing Adolf Hitler by 13 minutes.