All of the prisoners were lined up in front of the research building’s main door, where a major and man in civilian clothes walked out.
“I am Wernher von Braun, the director of this facility. I understand some of you should have backgrounds in planetary motion, trajectory, differential and integral calculus.” Von Braun looked at each one as he spoke, as if he already knew which man specialized in what area. “I have work for you in these areas – if you are good. If you are not, then you will be returned to the Gestapo where you can imagine what your fate will be.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Lucht noticed at the edge of the camp a group of seasoned prisoners digging ditches and wrestling with large stones. Even at this distance, Georg could see the affects of forced labor and poor food in the men’s faces and bodies.
Of all the men, Krafft, Lucht, and Ernst Schulte-Strathaus were unquestionably the best mathematicians of all the six hundred or so arrested astrologers Aktion Hess involved.
Why does this cocky young civilian need prisoners who are good in planetary motion, trajectory, and calculus? Krafft wondered.
“You mean he believed in astrology?”
“Believed in it? He was practically a professional.” Bettina blew out a puff of cigarette smoke. “A friend of my dated a colonel who was a personal friend of Hess. They were invited to dinner at his house in Spandau quite often. She told me Hess had rows and rows of astrology books in his library and he actually made her horoscope chart. He described her pretty well.”
“I can’t believe the third highest ranking official of the Nazi party took that mumbo jumbo so seriously.” Otto said while rolling over the bed to grab another slice of Swiss cheese and apple. His next report to London will be a gold mine.
As her precarious position with Goebbels grew steadily worse, she began to depend more and more on Otto for emotional and mental support. Subconsciously, the crueler Goebbels treated her, the more she opened up to Otto over what went on in the Reichstag building, something she took an oath never to do. Her unleashing the horrors occurring in Goebbels and surrounding offices seemed to rid her of the stress, shame, and pain – which at the same time had the amount on Otto’s reports grow more and more.
“He’s not the only one. Hess said even Göring wanted to look at something on his chart before he was made a Field Marshal.”
“And Hitler? Did Hess ever mention Hitler wanted something done with astrology?” Otto took a bite of apple. “Or did you hear if the Führer ever use astrology for anything?”
Otto always felt awkward saying “the Führer”, but had to in order to appear German.
“With Hess? No. Not that I know of.” Bettina put out her cigarette. “Goebbels and Hitler talked a lot about astrology for the propaganda projects. I wrote the letters to all of them inviting them to report to Goebbels’ project Dr. Fesel was running. There were a lot of astrologers working on that.”
“Doing what?”
“Mostly finding and twisting Nostradamus text, to be published in neutral countries suggesting they should stay out of the war, or side with Germany, since Germany will win.”
“Did Hitler believe in astrology?”
“Not at all.” Bettina said without hesitation. “He and Goebbels were in our office laughing when they were going over an article in a Swedish newspaper about a British general saying how Hitler must be using an astrologer since the Third Reich was always seemed to be a step ahead. Hitler said; If everyone is worrying about whether or not I use astrology, then all the better. Let them worry over one more thing.” (actual quote)
“Well, I think he does.” Otto said plainly. “I mean, just because it has come up in the way it has says there must be something to it. And if Hess is practically a professional astrologer, and talks about it with Göring and Goebbels, then he must have at least some kind of belief or acceptance with it.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should get our charts done to see if we are good for one another.” Bettina laughed as she reached over to embrace Otto.
As they touched the door to the apartment came crashing down. Five men in long black leather coats swarmed in surrounding Otto and Bettina in bed. Two of the men grabbed Otto’s arm and pulled them behind his back, handcuffing him while they dragged him off the bed. Bettina was pulled from bed by a tall man who laughed at seeing her naked, then pulled her to the opposite side of the room from Otto. Both victims looked at each other while the two others torn into Otto’s apartment, pulling out drawers, tearing down paintings from the wall, and just general destruction. Neither of the men spoke. Otto noticed a Gestapo pin on the one holding Bettina.
The process of tearing up Otto’s apartment took exactly twelve minutes.
“Your clothes look rather ordinary.” The second searcher said after throwing everything out of a wardrobe and looking at Otto. He then looked at the bull necked man holding down Otto. “I said… your clothes look rather ordinary.” The bull necked man then punched Otto in the ear. Bettina began to cry at the sign of violence.
“Can’t you hear me? I said your clothes look rather ordinary.”
“What can I say about that?” Otto said angrily.
“I’m very interested in what you can say about that.” The man shouted louder. Otto sized him up to be the leader of the group.
Seeing the questioning was bordering on the ridiculous, Otto decided to answer as such. “Well, I have ordinary clothes since I am an ordinary guy.”
Again Otto was boxed in the same ear, which launched Bettina into hysterics. “Why are you doing this?” She screamed. The Gestapo agents ignored her.
“Oh, he’s a funny one, isn’t he?” The leader asked to no one in particular.
“Yes, funny, very funny.” Answered the thug throwing the punches.
“That’s good.” Said the leader. “Because I like to laugh. Do you like to laugh, Otto?”
The man holding Otto answered for him. “Sure he does! Ha!” He punches Otto in the ear again. “Ha!” Punch. “Ha!” Punch. Otto’s ear begins to bleed. Bettina shrieked and jumped up but was held back by the thin, pale man next to her.
“So, Otto, you are an ordinary guy, with ordinary clothes.” The leader pulled out a cigarette and began studying it. “Tell me, Otto, why then would an ordinary guy with ordinary clothes have any need to visit a tailor so often, and a Jew loving tailor at that?”
A sickness sprang from Otto’s stomach. Stephan Johanstall and any part of the network connected to him were now perhaps known. Was this just anti-Jewish harassment or was the British connection already discovered? Had Johanstall already been picked up? Has he cracked already? The sick feeling from Otto’s stomach spread to the rest of his body.
“A tailor? I don’t use a tailor. I can’t afford one.”
“Is that so? Then Otto, why do I see you go in and out of the tailor shop on Wilhelm Alle so often?”
“Stephan. I go to visit Stephan, who is an old friend of my family. My aunt used to work in the theater with him a long time ago when they were actors.” Otto gave his cover story.
“How interesting. Your aunt’s name?”
“Dagmar Radtka.”
“And do you know where these actors played together, by any chance?” The leader said while exhaling his cigarette smoke.