Two boys and a little girl of three months. You'll meet them all soon. One at a time they dropped the other men off along the winding dirt road with a word of thanks and a quick handshake, until at last they were alone. A few miles further on they reached the main coastal road near the village of Riversdale, and turned westwards towards Cape Town two hundred miles away, and ran on through the night, stopping only to refuel the truck at the little town of Swellendarn and to spell each other at the wheel of the truck.
Four hours later they crossed the mountains and went down the steep narrow pass to the wide littoral. They stopped again a few miles outside Stellenbosch, at one of the cooperative winery companies. Although it was three o'clock in the morning, the manager was waiting for them and he helped them unload the rubber canisters and carry them down into the cellar.
This is Sakkie Van Vuuren, Roelf introduced the manager. He is a good friend, and he has prepared a safe place for your equipment. He led them to the rear of the cellar, to the last row of wooden casks. These were massive oak containers each holding a thousand gallons of immature red wine, but the manager thumped the palm of his hand against one of them and when it gave out a hollow sound, he smiled.
I did the work myself, he said and opened the front of the cask. It was hinged like a door and the cask beyond was empty. Nobody will ever find the goods here., They packed the rubber canisters into the cask and closed the hinged lid. It was indistinguishable from any other of the massive wine-filled casks in the row.
We will be ready to move when the time is ripe, the winemaker told Manfred. When will it be? Soon, my friend, Manfred promised him. Very soon, and he and Roelf drove on into the village of Stellenbosch.
It's good to be home. You will only stay here tonight, Manie, Roelf told him.
Even with your new black beard and broken nose, you are too well-known. You will be recognized. He parked the truck in the yard of a secondhand car dealer down near the railway tracks and left the key under the floor mat. Then the two of them walked the last mile, through the deserted streets to Roelf's home, a cottage in a row of small thatched cottages. Roelf let them in through the back door into the kitchen, and a familiar figure rose up from his seat at the kitchen table to greet them.
Uncle Tromp! Manfred cried. The old man held open his arms, and Manfred ran into his embrace.
What a terrible ruffian you are with that beard, Uncle Tromp laughed. And I see the American did a permanent job on your nose. Manfred looked over Uncle Tromp's shoulder and there was a woman standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
That was what misled him, a woman, not a girl. Her face was marked by a kind of sad wisdom, and her expression was pinched and without joy.
Sarah? Manfred left Uncle Tromp and went towards her.
How are you, my little sister? I was never your little sister, Manfred, she said. But I am very well, thank you. She made no effort to embrace him and Manfred was clearly disturbed by the coolness of her welcome.
Are you happy, Sarah? I have a fine man and three beautiful babies, she said, and looked at Roeff.
You will be hungry now, she told him. Sit down. You can talk while I make your breakfast. The three men seated themselves at the kitchen table and every once in a while Manfred glanced surreptitiously at Sarah as she worked over the stove, and his expression was troubled, ridden by old memories and guilt. Then he gathered himself and concentrated once more on what the others were saying.
The news is all good, the British smashed and broken at Dunkirk, France has fallen and the Netherlands. The German U-boats are winning the battle of the Atlantic and even the Italians are victorious in North Africa- I did not know you were one of us, Uncle Tromp, Manfred cut in on the discussion.
Yes, my son. I am a patriot as you are. The Ossewa Brandwag is forty thousand strong now. Forty thousand picked men in positions of power and authority, while Jannie Smuts has sent one hundred and sixty thousand of the English-lovers with their little orange tabs on their shoulders out of the country. He has put himself at our mercy. Our leaders know of your arrival, Manie, Roelf told him.
They know that you bring a message from the Fahrer himself, and they are eager to meet you. Will you arrange a meeting, Manfred asked, as soon as possible? There is much work to do. Glorious work to do. Sarah Stander stood quietly at the kitchen stove, breaking eggs into the frying pan, turning the chops under the grill.
She did not look round or draw attention to herself, but she thought: You have come to bring sadness and suffering into my life again, Manfred De La Rey. With your every word and look and gesture you open the wounds I thought had healed.
You have come to destroy what little life has left me. Roelf will follow you blindly into folly. You come to threaten my husband and my babies, And her hatred of him was made stronger and more venomous as it fed on the corpse of the love that he had murdered.
Manfred travelled alone. There was no control of personal movement, there were no roadblocks, police searches or demands for identification papers. South Africa was so far from the main war centres that there were not even significant shortages of consumer goods, apart from petrol rationing and a ban on the milling of white flour, therefore no need for ration books or other documentation existed.
Carrying a small valise, Manfred merely purchased a second-class railway ticket for Bloemfontein, the capital town of the Orange Free State province, and he shared a compartment with five other travellers on the five hundred mile journey.
Ironically, the meeting to subvert the elected government of the nation took place in the provincial government building at the foot of Artillery Hill. When Manfred entered the imposing administrator's office, he was reminded how wide was the influence of their secret organization.
The commander of the OB came to meet him at the door.
He had changed little since he had administered the bloodoath to Manfred in that midnight torchlit ceremony. Still paunchy and craggy-featured, he was now dressed in a sombre double-breasted civilian suit. He greeted Manfred warmly, clasping his hand and patting his shoulder, smiling broadly.
I have been expecting you, brother, but first let me congratulate you on your achievements since last we met, and the magnificent work you have accomplished so far., He led Manfred into the room and introduced him to the five other men seated at the long table.
All of us have taken the blood oath. You may speak freely, he told Manfred who knew now that he was addressing the highest council of the brotherhood.
He sat at the bottom of the table facing the commander and gathered his thoughts for a moment before beginning.
Gentlemen, I bring you personal greetings from the Fithrer of the German people, Adolf Hitler. He has asked me to assure you of the close friendship that has always existed between the Afrikaner and the German nation, and to tell you that he is ready to support us in every possible way in our struggle to win back what is rightfully ours, to regain for the Afrikaner the land that belongs to him by right of birth and conquest. Manfred spoke forcefully and logically.
He had prepared this address with the help of the experts of the German propaganda department and had rehearsed it until his delivery was perfect; he could judge his success by the rapt expressions of the men listening to him.
The Fuhrer is fully aware that this country has been stripped of almost all men of military age who have sympathy with the Smuts government and the British. Almost one hundred and sixty thousand men have been sent north to serve beyond our borders. This makes the task easier. Smuts has called in all weapons in private hands, one of the men interrupted him. He has taken the sporting rifles and shotguns, even the memorial cannons from the town squares. There will be no rising without weapons. You have seen to the centre of the problem, Manfred agreed. To succeed we need money and weapons. We will get those. The Germans will send them to us? No. Manfred shook his head. This has been considered and rejected. The distance is too great, the difficulty of landing great quantities of arms on an inhospitable coast is not acceptable and the ports are well guarded. However, immediately we have control of the ports, supplies of heavy arms will be rushed to us by U-boats of the German navy, and in return we will throw open our harbours to the German Uboats. We will deny the Cape route to the British. Then where will we get the arms we need for the rising? From Jannie Smuts, Manfred told them, and they stirred uncomfortably and glanced at one another doubtfully.