He was due for his next release on Sunday, August 15th, and by nine o'clock that morning Gregory had the launch tied up in the little harbour, waiting to take him off. But he did not appear.
By half past, Gregory was extremely worried; then it suddenly entered his mind that Kuporovitch might have sent a message to the guard post to await, him there; so he clambered up on to the quay. Outside the post, not far from the sentry, a, sergeant and several men were lounging in the sun. Quickly Gregory questioned them, but they could tell him nothing; so he asked the Sergeant to send one of the men to fetch his officer. Five minutes later an elderly Lieutenant of the Reserve came out of the gate. He said that he knew Soldat Sabinov by sight, as the man was on a list of people allowed to pass in and out of that gate; but no message concerning him had been received.
With growing fears that some misfortune had befallen his friend, Gregory remained there until eleven o'clock, making desultory conversation with the Sergeant and explaining his anxiety by telling him that Sabinov had previously been his -servant, so he would be very upset if his failure to appear was caused by his having met with an accident. Soon after eleven he decided that it was useless to wait any longer and, returning to his boat,:, he made all speed back to Wolgast. There, at the hotel, he was relieved of his worst fears on finding a note that had shortly before been left for him. It was from Brigadier Langbahn and read:
I am sorry to tell you that your man was beaten up last night and is in hospital. But his injuries are not serious and he will be well enough for you to pick him up tomorrow. He has landed one fish for us, but there is still trouble brewing, so I shall expect him back at midnight on Tuesday.
All that day it rained heavily and Gregory spent it indoors, worrying about Kuporovitch; but when he collected him next morning, apart from a black eye and a badly bruised chin, he was in fairly good shape. '
It transpired that in the last group to which he had been allotted he had recognized-but fortunately without being recognized himself-an ex-member of the O.G.P.U. Naturally, he had had no intention of saving the Germans from riots by denouncing any conspirator who confided in him; but he knew that it would strengthen his own position if he turned one of his fellow prisoners in, and several of his brother officers who had been caught up in the Thkashevsky conspiracy had been tortured and executed owing to the activities of this O.G.P.U. man. So Kuporovitch had avenged them by reporting him as one of the leaders of the break-out plot and had seen him hauled off to torture and death by the Gestapo. Unfortunately other members of the group had suspected that it was Kuporovitch who had `squealed', so they had attempted to do him in. As he had had the sense to shout for help with all the strength of his powerful lungs, his bellowing had been heard and the guards had arrived on the scene in time to rescue him.
He had no fresh news about the secret weapons, but hoped to pick up further information during his next spell inside; and he had no special fears about returning to his highly distasteful job, because he was to be put into a different camp, to which it was believed that the trouble had spread and, of course, he would enter it under a different name. Two days'
relaxation with plenty of good food and drink fully restored him to his normal, cheerful self and, a little before midnight on the Tuesday, Gregory Landed him in front of the Peenemьnde gate.
He pushed off at once and, not having heard the news that evening, as soon as he had rounded the promontory just south of Peenemunde he stopped his engine, then began to fiddle with the knob of his wireless hoping to pick up 'a midnight bulletin from a British station. He had been trying to get the Continental wave-length only for a moment when he recognized his own call sign.
At once he pulled out his notebook and pencil, sent his number and turned the set up. The message was short and having taken it down it took him only a few minutes to decode, because by then he had memorized quite a number of the abbreviation symbols. As he worked by the light of his torch he jotted down: Tried to contact you three nights stop maximum raid on P first suitable stop withdraw stop report results if possible.
With swift concern he switched out his torch, returned the, wireless to its hiding place and turned the boat about. Somehow he must warn Kuporovitch, and they must devise some way of getting him out. Perhaps they could say that, owing to his injuries, he, needed further time to recuperate. He had been gone less than a quarter of an hour and he had a two-mile walk back to his camp. There still might be time to catch him.
At full speed Gregory drove the boat back into the little harbour and scrambled ashore. The arc lights were blazing down, so the sentry recognized him at once and made no move to fire. Running up to him, Gregory panted:
'Soldat Sabinov! I forgot to tell' him something. It's important… very important. Get him back. Send someone after him.'
The sentry shook his head. 'Herr Major, I cannot leave my post.'
`Then call your Sergeant! Call your officer!'
The man gave a shout and his Sergeant emerged from the guard house.
Urgently, Gregory repeated his request that someone should be sent after his man to get him back.
`I regret, Herr Major,' the Sergeant replied, `but I have no. authority-to use one of my men for such a purpose.' In a second Gregory became the typical German officer who s accustomed to be obeyed without question. Drawing himself o his full height, with all the authority of his rank, he snapped, Call your officer. Instantly; or it will be the worse for you.' The Sergeant wilted. Calling another man out of the guard rouse, he, turned, took a key from his pocket and unlocked he gate. Then he said to the man, `Go and fetch the Herr Leutnant.'
A few minutes that seemed an age to Gregory went by suddenly the lights went out. In a flash he realized what that meant. It had never happened before during his seven weeks at Wolgast. It could be only because a warning had been received that an air-raid was imminent. The message had said first suitable night'. The moon was nearly full and now lit he scene faintly between drifting patches of cloud; so conditions could not have been better.
The gate was open. The Lieutenant might already be in bed. It might be ten or fifteen minutes before he had dressed and could be brought there. Meanwhile Kuporovitch was calmly walking back to the camp where within the next hour hundreds of men might lie dead. The thought spurred Gregory: to immediate action.
Thrusting the Sergeant aside he dived through the gate. '.It gave on to a curving street. Expecting any minute to be shot n the back, he pelted along it, hugging the nearest side to take the best advantage of the deep shadows now cast by the moonlight. The sentry, bewildered by the sudden switching off if the lights and taken by surprise by Gregory's abrupt action, momentarily lost his wits and forgot that he should have used his rifle. The Sergeant shouted to Gregory to halt but, also taken aback, lost a few moments before drawing his pistol. By the time he blazed off with it, Gregory was round the first bend of the street and no longer a visible target.