“This is going to be a bigger price than anyone bargained for,” hissed Canaris. “It’s not just about the Jews. No one cares about them. The trains are bringing hundreds of thousands of ‘guest workers’ into the Reich, but they are not guests and they’re not workers… they’re slaves. Dutchmen, Frenchmen, Danes, and women too. The whole of Europe has been enslaved. It’s a new Dark Age and one day◦— soon◦— Germany will be reviled and cursed for what is happening in the name of the Empire.”
Lehmann changed tack back to his original point. “But surely the reports of the killings… we’ve both read them. OKW and OKH are aware. The Madagascar option seems to have been abandoned… the Jews in Poland.”
“I told you, no one at OKW cares. What matters to them is winning the war. Of course I’ve complained to Keitel, but nothing had been done. Believe me, this is just an indication of how this war will be conducted. Do you know they have even given a command to that psychopath Dirlewanger! A man so depraved he has been kicked out of the Nazi party! Convicted paedophiles commanding German units… God forgive us!”
“Surely there must be some possibility…” replied Lehmann.
“As you know, Lehmann,” came the quick response, “since the outbreak of war, like you, in our own way we’ve done all that we can. We gave the dates of both the attack on Norway and the invasion of France to our Dutch contact. As regards the British, we did what we could, sending some Poles to London with the cover that they were agents for the Reich. Then instructing them to tell all who would listen that not all Germans were as abominable as Hitler and his craven cronies and to try to make alliances with those good Germans who remained and had influence and bearing. But all this has produced nothing next to the insanity that Hitler is now embarking on. This madness, this apocalypse, this Barbarossa! What is that lunatic thinking of?”
Canaris again was forced to fight for breath. He knew that he had to be seen to be doing everything to aid the war effort whilst doing what he could to undermine it.
“This puts me in a very unsavoury position and it means that I have to deal with some very insalubrious characters. If the Secret Field Police turn against me, who knows what harm could come to my family? I have come to the decision, tack with the wind. You, Lehmann, must do what you can. One day you will have to answer to a power higher than the earthly demon you presently obey…”
“As you are aware, Admiral,” said Lehmann, “I am doing my best. If the contents of Plan Ost become public knowledge, then the whole international community will soon close ranks…. I’m sure he won’t survive.”
“Hmm, I wouldn’t count on it,” replied Canaris. “It’s a small start, but a good one. There’s not much else of practical value we can do. How did you get it from Heydrich?”
“I suspect he doesn’t yet know that we have it. Let’s just say his personal safe isn’t as impregnable as he thinks. There will be hell to pay when he opens it and finds out that it’s gone.”
“I certainly hope so. It is certainly strong evidence of a criminal conspiracy, but is it big enough to blow Hitler and his cronies away?” queried Canaris.
“These lunatics have a detailed plan for genocide. They propose to exterminate all those who they term untermenschen. It’s a criminal act. They can’t be allowed to get away with what’s proposed here, and once the world knows about it I’m sure they will close ranks against him… The Americans would join for sure.”
“Perhaps… the Jewish lobby is certainly influential there,” Canaris mused.
“Governments will stand for expulsion, they’ll stand for a Madagascar option of exile, but surely no one will stand by and allow a cold-blooded programme of mass extermination.”
“It makes for such painful reading,” continued Canaris sorrowfully. “Secret extermination camps to be established within the borders of the Reich! I have family in the East. They live near this Auschwitz, featured in the plan. What kind of a reputation is that place going to have for future generations? And Bergen-belsen too… Good God, I never thought I’d live to experience such ignominy. Well, we can at least take some solace from the fact that by the time Heydrich finds out that Plan Ost has gone missing it will be in the hands of someone who will make sure that it gets to the right people in Moscow.”
Lehmann fought back the urge to ask who that might be, but in any event there was no need◦— he was an expert in reading upside down. Canaris volunteered no further information but the brown file on the desk in front of him told the whole story. The name immediately jumped off the page. Dimitri Korsak, aka Wilhelm Stenner.
Canaris, unaware that Lehmann had all the information he required, guardedly ventured some details.
“I have known this agent since our time in the Freikorps together. He was a keen National Socialist but he grew to hate Hitler over the murder of Gregor Strasser, whom he considered to be the one true leader of the far left in Germany. He then fled Germany to take up the common cause by joining the Communist Party in Soviet Russia.”
“My enemy’s enemy…” thought Lehmann to himself. By staying silent he hoped to elicit more from Canaris. Perhaps it was the excitement of the moment, but Canaris was giving away far more than the taciturn Admiral normally did. Now he fell frustratingly silent.
“So you plan to get Plan Ost to Moscow? Surely that will be impossible once the Corporal’s war is unleashed.”
“Quite the contrary, my dear Lehmann. The latest intelligence confirms that our agent has been seconded to an NKVD unit based in the old citadel at Brest-Litovsk. A courier with the only known copy of Plan Ost is already on the way to him◦— by tomorrow it should be in Moscow. Let’s hope that the international outcry it provokes will be enough to overthrow these criminals.”
“Can’t it be done tomorrow?” replied Captain Zubachyov. “I can arrange it if I must, but why the rush? Who actually needs a single T-26 light tank at 04:00 on a Saturday night, or should I say a Sunday morning? In peace time! Look, tomorrow is another day… we’ll sort it for then… alright?”
Tomorrow was always another day for Captain Zubachyov. The 22nd of June was a Sunday and he hoped it would prove to be a lazy Sunday. He anticipated a deep and painful hangover as he drained the last drops of vodka from his tumbler and watched the dancers in idle boredom. He hoped that his stint of Sunday duty would prove uneventful. At least if he produced the tank and sent the troublesome commissar on his way he would be rid of this confounded political meddler with his relentless string of requests.
The band was sawing its way through the last few numbers as the midsummer ball in the fortress of Brest-Litovsk drew towards its very late conclusion. He glanced at his watch. The enthusiasm of the participants in the all night dance showed no sign of letting up. The slow waltz provided the opportunity for a close-up clinch and the remaining couples were in various advanced states of amorous intensity. Whispered conversations pointed towards moonlit trysts. The dance hall was still busy. The nurses from the garrison hospital that served the 4th Red Army and the girls from the town acted like magnets for the unattached officers, and those officers pretending to be unattached. There was fun to be had for those not going on duty in six hours’ time and Captain Zubachyov had no intention of letting this latest request interrupt his evening.
He had not allowed for the unyielding attitude of Dimitri Korsak.
“My orders come straight from Moscow, Comrade Zubachyov. Either the T-26 is provided, fully fuelled and functioning, or I have you placed under arrest. There is no other option.”
The Commissar’s words cut like a knife through the alcoholic fuzz enfolding the Captain’s vodka-soaked system. He suddenly realised that the formerly pleasant man in front of him was deadly serious.