The large wooded area between Suhl and Schmeidefeld had drawn attention because of the ferocious AA fire that greeted some passing Thunderbolts, who were driven off by the swift arrival of Soviet fighter aircraft. Both photo-recon aircraft sent out had not returned, in itself a possible pointer.
The final possibility was underlined and emphasised in Red.
‘Where the hell is Ceske Kubice?’ enquired Eisenhower of himself, and then aloud of the Captain.
“Czech border region, approximately fifty miles north-east of Regensburg Sir.”
Most significantly, this was intelligence from an on the spot source, albeit more negative than positive input.
‘Villagers cannot use this road; this area of woodland is now restricted and guarded by army and NKVD units. Curfew imposed commencing two hours before dusk.’
Ike read and reread the next line.
“Increase in train traffic, particularly at night time. Tuesday night 12. Wednesday night 17.”
He looked at the Captain encouraging her response.
“Contact has been lost with the informant. No messages since Thursday Sir.”
As Ike read on he felt his senses start to sharpen, hairs prickling on the back of his neck, wondering if the clandestine Manchurian units had actually been located.
“Anne, make me another copy and then pass it onto Marshall Tedder. Ask him to provide me with a strike plan to hit these targets tonight. Please tell him I consider this a matter of the highest priority.”
Impressed with the importance of her mission, the pretty young officer fairly skipped away to do her commander’s bidding.
Eisenhower moved to the next offering, reports on submarine attacks in the Atlantic. One particularly unwelcome paper recorded the sinking a full troopship returning to Europe with veteran soldiers and striking an entire tank-destroyer group from the Allied inventory.
As he read the painful pages, his attention was suddenly piqued by a highly polished pair of shoes that halted a respectful distance from his chair.
He finished the paragraph and slid his thumb into position to show him where he had to start reading from and looked up.
His eyes took in the immaculate vision of Rear-Admiral Sir Roger Marais Dalziel and knew that something good was about to happen.
Standing, he responded to the naval salute offered up by Dalziel and then extended his hand.
“Excellent timing Sir Roger, I need to speak to you about the Atlantic.” Moving his head slightly to address the waiting officers.
“Unless anything is particularly urgent, please give the Admiral and I fifteen minutes gentlemen.”
A chorus of mutters indicated nothing of epic importance and the space suddenly belonged solely to Ike and the British officer.
Extending his hand to the adjacent chair, Eisenhower resumed his seat and poured coffee for both of them.
“Actually I do want to speak about the Atlantic but by the look on your face you have something you want to tell me Sir Roger?”
“That I do Sir, and hopefully I will brighten your day.”
Reaching into his ancient briefcase the intelligent officer extracted a report laden with the external paraphernalia of utmost secrecy.
“Your eyes only for now Sir, if you please.”
Eisenhower nodded his understanding.
“Want to give me the précis Sir Roger?”
“I thought you’d never ask Sir,” he smiled the words as much as spoke them, “Rather proud actually. We found two more communist agents at Bletchley, bringing the total to four.”
“And this is good news Admiral?” Eisenhower was imagining the horrors these agents, well placed in his communications, could have wrought.
“I understand your angst General. There has been damage but it has already been done and we will learn the lessons of that. What is more interesting is the future and how we may profit from this debacle.”
“We will profit by not making the same mistake again I would imagine,” Ike spoke abruptly, not in irritation but aware that there was something else.
“Ok Admiral, hit me with it.”
“They all now work for us, Sir.”
That statement opened a very intriguing line of discussion.
Eisenhower had eaten heartily of his evening meal and felt as full as he had done for a long time.
He had gone back out into the main room to sit and look at the situation map as he enjoyed a large coffee.
Colonel Hood approached carefully, similarly stuffed with beef and onion stew, potato cakes, turnip and carrots, all covered with the finest thick gravy.
“Good evening Sir.”
“Colonel Hood. Dinner lies heavy on you too eh?”
Gestured to the adjacent chair, he placed a report on the table in front of his General.
Eisenhower, drinking the last of his coffee inclined his head to read the cover and screwed up his face at the title.
“Assessment of French Military Capability – 11th August 1945.”
More coffee arrived and Colonel Hood was graced with his own china mug, although he was considered a total philistine for indulging in sugar.
“It’s been a heck of a day Colonel.”
“That it has Sir.”
“OK then Thomas, give me the bottom line on our Gallic Allies please.”
Drawing deeply on his cigarette, Eisenhower was treated to Hood’s appraisal of the present French capability, as supplied by the US Liaison Officer to the French 1st Army, as well as the French staff themselves. All of which was tempered with his own eye for the things that some may wish to be kept hidden.
“We know the regular and colonial formations can do the job, Sir. Heck, they did magnificently in Italy and beyond.”
Hood took a quick gulp of his coffee.
“All the prime formations are at good strengths and maintain their fighting ability.”
The Colonel leant across and flicked open the folder, producing a list of units that were not so blessed.
“These formations were pretty much all built out of FFI forces and, to be blunt and using General De Lattre’s own words, are about as much use as a Sunday school coach party.”
Eisenhower raised an eyebrow.
“Well actually he added some extra words; I cleaned it up a bit Sir.”
The General grinned, imagining exactly what the dapper French officer might actually have said.
“Oh do go on Thomas.”
“Only the Alpine Division is going to be retained for possible front-line duties, the rest of the FFI based units will be withdrawn to France for re-training and security duties, freeing up some more experienced forces for your disposal.”
That certainly made sense and was very welcome to a General who needed quality manpower badly.
Colonel Hood sensed that and quickly moved before his Commander got too carried away.
“One General on the staff there told me that in the short term he expected no more than three worthy divisions to come out of that process.”
Eisenhower did the maths and still figured he was in profit on the deal.
“The French participation in the mobilisation of German soldier prisoners is extremely good.”
Eisenhower nodded.
“Extremely good Sir, so much so that it is almost embarrassing in its swiftness and completeness.”
That seemed a strange statement and it was not going to go unchallenged.
In response to his General’s question, Hood continued.
“As you are aware, the French offered to take responsibility for all of our SS prisoners. They are already moving them into the interior of their country in large numbers, relieving our troops who were guarding them and freeing up even more bodies for our units.”