Von Brockhorst felt dread. He looked at the evil man sat in front of him in his high backed chair and half expected to see a black eagle perched either side of his head.
“Like I said,“ Himmler continued “I need just one name. Why I’d wager that if I dug deep enough I could even uncover some dirt on you General,” he said with a smirk.
Von Brockhorst remained quiet and stared at the man unafraid now. Himmler suddenly snapped the file on Vorgsburg shut.
‘That’s his life’ Von Brockhorst was thinking ’snapped shut just like that’
“Like I said it’s an essential job. One which the Fuhrer has entrusted to me. Now tell me my friend what can I do for you?”
The General undid his briefcase, took out a letter and slid it across the desk.
“I need a man from you. A special man for the task ahead.”
Von Brockhorst sighed with relief when he sank back into the comfortable rear seat of the Mercedes once again.
“Wehrmacht headquarters,” he said to the driver not even noticing that it was the same one as before.
Von Brockhorst and Himmler had talked for over two hours and the General had felt that there was more to the man than the cold policeman he had first thought. There was warmth in the man to be found if you scratched the surface deep enough. Himmler had been very interested in the meeting the previous week at the Fuhrers country retreat the ’Berghof’ in Bavaria.
Von Brockhorst cast his mind back. He had been the last of the Generals to arrive and was greeted well. They were there to receive orders from the Fuhrer. Only Himmler and Goering were not present. Goering having already been debriefed and approved of the plan.
Von Brockhorst greeted them each in turn. Gerd von Runstedt, Alfred Jodl, Albert Kesselring. The tall elegant young General helping himself to punch he hadn’t met but knew.
Reinhard Heydrich.
Then Von Brockhorst had spotted a friend.
Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, head of the Abwehr, naval intelligence.
The two men exchanged pleasantries. Then during their conversation a gap in the crowd appeared and they found themselves across the room from Eva.
Eva Braun.
Hitler’s special lady.
She smiled sweetly at Von Brockhorst and he crossed to her. She held out her hand for him to kiss the back of. She smelled faintly of perfume and when he guessed its name she giggled prettily. Now as all conversation in the room subsided she was the centre of attention. All of the men in the room envious of Hitler for possessing such a beauty. She stayed in the room with them for a while and against their protests she left. Her perfume lingered.
The door burst open and Hitler stormed in.
The Generals instantly threw themselves into trying to put salutes together but Hitler barked an order at them to remain as they were. Only Heydrich saluted and Hitler barely acknowledged him.
“Arrogant fool,” Von Brockhorst was thinking.
Assistants entered the room and began laying plans and documents on the table. One began serving punch but Hitler refused anything alcoholic. He had only ever gotten drunk once before in his life and vowed to never do it again.
“Good morning gentlemen,” Hitler said clasping his hands in front of him. The generals put down their drinks and nibbles and circled the table so they were all facing him. There was excitement between most of them and Hitler let them continue for a few moments.
“Gentlemen,” he said finally “let us begin.”
Von Brockhorst sat back in the leather seats of the car as he remembered the meeting, the black leather briefcase on the seat beside him. Its important documents enclosed within.
Hitler had begun the meeting pleasantly. He had been wearing a brown shirt, silk tie and a grey jacket with a red armband with a black swastika on it., black trousers and riding boots. Hitler was optimistic and in a jovial mood. Von Brockhorst felt that some of his jokes bordered on the buffoonish. He had never seen the Fuhrer in this sort of mood. When the meeting closed the Generals had begun to leave for lunch and Hitler had ordered Von Brockhorst to stay. Heydrich had intended to stay as well but Hitler had dismissed him. Hitler then revealed to Von Brockhorst a plan he was hatching.
The black Mercedes turned into the front of Wehrmacht headquarters and paused long enough for the barrier to be raised. Hard looking sentries stood on either side of the car holding onto Alsatians. The car drove around to the steps and five minutes later Von Brockhorst arrived at his temporary office. His adjutant was already there piling up the mornings post into piles. Official letters on one side, personal the other. He took one look at Von Brockhorst’s face and said.
“I’ll get you some black coffee sir.”
“And get Colonel Koenig up here at the double!” Von Brockhorst shouted at the adjutants disappearing back.
Koenig arrived quickly, saw the General’s distress, dismissed the adjutant, who couldn’t wait to get away, and poured the coffee himself.
Von Brockhorst sat himself down and shuffled through the mail on his desk. He didn’t open any of it and pushed the letters out of his way. Koenig just sat patiently and waited.
“It began well,” Von Brockhorst started “The Fuhrer was….” he paused “Different. I’ve never seen him like this. He was exciteable. First the progress of the war was discussed. The main topic being the battle of Stalingrad. Following the defeat, the disaster of Moscow, owing to the extremities of the Russian winter the Fuhrer was pleased to hear that our forces by October will be advancing towards the oilfields at Maikop….”
Koenig listened attentively without interruption. Just giving the occasional nod or smile where he deemed appropriate. Von Brockhorst went into detail a lot more than he needed to. Koenig had never been to war, in battle, seen death on a massive scale. He had spent all of his career in Berlin. He loved his job. It was easy, secure. He was a well liked officer of 35, handsome, and though unmarried he had a string of mistresses, all officers wives. Their husbands all at the front line. His friends all found it amusing but Koenig saw it as a service. Plus all of these women had their own houses or apartments making it easier for him and them. One day he was sure he would be found out but he had friends in high places. Von Brockhorst knew nothing about Koenig’s social life and he certainly wouldn’t care or be interested anyway. He the General was a professional soldier fighting a war. Koenig was sure that his secret was safe. He didn’t realise that most people who worked at Wehrmacht HQ in his department knew of the rumours about his sexual activity.
He was thinking at this moment about a Major’s wife who he would be seeing tonight. During his lunch break he would go out and buy her some black seamed silk stockings, his favourite. They would cost a fortune but he didn’t care.
’Elsa is worth it’ he told himself. He felt his loins stirring as he thought about their love making, her enthusiasm in bed. Unknowingly he was smiling at the wall in a daydream. Von Brockhorst stopped talking. Koenig was suddenly aware that the General was frowning at him. Koenig hadn’t been listening, his attention elsewhere. Now suddenly he realised he needed to say something clever.
“Yes General that’s very good news.”
Von Brockhorst stared at him open mouthed.
“Good news. This hare brained idea!”
Koenig nodded still visualising Elsa in her stockings kneeling on the edge of her bed. Suddenly he tore himself back.
“Good news sir that the Fuhrer is so optimistic.”
He could imagine Hitler banging his fist on the table.
“To the last man! The last bullet!” he was ranting, spittle foaming in the corners of his mouth, his tie crooked, sweat patch on the back of his shirt.