‘[It was not possible for me to identify the nationality of my attackers’ aircraft. They came at me suddenly and from behind and broke off to the side when they thought they had mortally damaged my plane. However, certain suspicions do arise. It could have been that the fighter aircraft were British, patrolling above the sea in search of aircraft like mine. There were in fact British incursions against Germany last night, so bombers were in the vicinity. But British fighters do not normally patrol so far out to sea, unless in this case there was a special reason. Could it be that subversive elements within the British cadres somehow knew that I was planning to be flying last night and that being in opposition to peace they sent out the fighters to ambush me? If so, it would mean there was a breach of security and confidentiality concerning my plans, which could place our talks in jeopardy.]’
Here the Deputy Führer paused, folding his arms across his chest with a theatrical gesture. He deliberately stared around the room, looking slowly at all of us who were there. It was a dreadful moment, because the man’s anger was plain to see. His deep-set eyes beneath the distinctive bushy eyebrows gave out a challenge to everyone. His gaze lingered on the British contingent. Of course, no one acknowledged that they knew of the ambush, because it was inconceivable that anyone there would wish to sabotage the talks.
‘[The other possibility,]’ Hess continued, ‘[would be that the aircraft were sent by a dissident faction from my own side. Under normal circumstances that would constitute high treason. In comparison with it, an attack by the RAF would seem a relatively minor matter, an intelligible act of war. At this moment, though, circumstances within Germany are far from normal. Everyone here today knows that. We all face problems of acceptance of these plans within our caucuses at home. Let us not pretend otherwise. In such a way, and if it is behind what happened to me last night, I am inclined to treat it as a minor matter.
‘[I can assure you once again that I am here with the full authority and agreement of the Leader and that he and I are determined to forge peace with our present enemies, the British. The events of last night have only concentrated my mind more closely on the need for a rapid agreement. I emphasize that the German government does not urge peace from a position of weakness. We seek peace with honour for both sides, based on parity.
‘[I therefore announce unilaterally that I and my negotiators are prepared to reach final agreement in the swiftest way possible, and that the many small problems that arose as we tried earlier to frame our armistice will be treated, at least by us, as minor or insignificant. At the worst we can adjourn areas of small disagreement until a later meeting, in the spirit of reaching a concord about the main issue between us.]’
Hess sat down suddenly. After a moment or two of silence, several members of the neutral representatives uttered growls of agreement and approval. One or two of the British rapped their knuckles on the table. It was a half-hearted response, one that evidently did not please the Deputy Führer. He scowled around for a moment, then looked to his own entourage. They stood up hastily, raised their arms high and began clapping loudly. At this, Hess once again rose to his feet and applause broke out all round the hall. It sounded to me polite rather than enthusiastic, but Hess seemed satisfied with it.
We returned to the document room, to find that while we had been in the plenary session Hess’s aides had delivered pre-pre-pared draft documents for translation and incorporation into the texts from the earlier meeting. I took charge, swiftly allocating tasks to the team, making sure that the non-executive observers from the Red Cross and the Quakers had full access to each worker. I settled down to work on the section of the wording I set aside for myself. The room was soon filled with the purposeful sounds of typewriters. Smoke rose from cigarettes; jackets came off.
Not long afterwards, the familiar sequence of negotiating procedures began to unfold: completed texts were checked, proofread, identified as to context, copied. Once I had approved the translation or précis, it was taken through to the teams of secondary negotiators for their consideration and revision. In the meantime, more texts were being drafted in conference, and they in turn were brought to the document room for our minor revisions and editorial insertions.
Gradually we saw the revamped armistice document taking shape, an absorbing and satisfying process.
What soon became noticeable was the amount of energy emanating from the German side of the room. It had not been like that in Cascais: the German proposals and responses then were full of feints and diversions, a series of attempts to achieve small advantages over the other side. Now it was different: it was the British who were on the defensive, objecting, compromising, quibbling, trying to nullify offers with counter-proposals.
Although I was technically a neutral in the negotiations, I was of course British-born and had spent nearly the whole war inside Britain. I was used to the subtle British propaganda put out by the various government ministries. It routinely portrayed the Germans as the sole aggressors, the wrongdoers, the invaders, the killers of innocents, and much else besides. Truth resides somewhere deep inside propaganda, but in a war neither side has a monopoly on it. In Stockholm I began to understand the Germans’ position: many of the British responses were inflexible, stubborn, pettifogging, often contradictory and tinged with a moralistic tone.
At ten in the evening Dr Burckhardt sent word to our team that we should stand down for the night. The main conference was being adjourned for twelve hours. As we raised our heads, we realized that we had been working without a break more or less since the end of Hess’s speech. I was not only exhausted, I was famished too. I knew everyone else must be the same, so we broke off from our tasks with relief, leaving unfinished whatever we were doing. It was not long before we were being driven back to the hotel in Stockholm, where a late supper was waiting for us.
In the morning, refreshed a little, we returned to Count Bernadotte’s country house.
xxiv
The page on which I had been working the evening before was still in the roller of the typewriter. I sat down, loosened my tie and took off my jacket. Someone opened the window shutters to let in the morning sunlight. I read through the last few lines of the translation, thinking myself back into what I needed to do. I had been working on a position paper drawn up by the British negotiators, who were concerned with the German idea of parity. It was seen by both sides as central to the peace accord. Hess, the day before, had used the German word Gleichheit, which in English translated as ‘parity’ with the meaning of ‘equality of interest’. To the British team, equality of interest was neither quite what they wanted it to mean nor what they thought (or hoped) Hess had meant to convey. They preferred to substitute ‘equality of rights’ {Parität), or ‘equality of status’ (gleiche Stellung), phrases loaded with significance when it was remembered that Churchill insisted on signing the armistice himself. It was obvious he would have nothing to do with a deal which implied that the British were losing the war and had sued for peace, which might be the interpretation if the only equality that was admitted with Germany was one of vested interests. I had been trying to decide what to do about the problem - was it a question of interests, rights or status? - when we closed down for the night.
I stared at the sentence, trying to concentrate.