“And your decision about Schröder?” Gehlen asked.
“I suggest we take him inside, give him lunch, and welcome him to Kloster Grünau.”
Gehlen nodded, and then smiled.
“An expression Colonel Mattingly uses frequently seems appropriate here,” he said, and then quoted, “‘The true test of another man’s intelligence is to what degree he agrees with you.’”
“I’m flattered, sir,” Cronley said, and then raised his voice: “Corporal!”
The corporal appeared around the corner of the building a moment later, prodding Schröder ahead of him with the muzzle of his Thompson.
“Lower that muzzle, Corporal,” Cronley ordered. “Herr Schröder has been declared one of the good guys.”
A look of enormous relief flashed over Schröder’s face.
Not that I doubted what Gehlen said about Schröder wondering if he was about to be shot, but if I needed proof, there it was on Schröder’s face.
“Pass the word,” Cronley continued. “And then find First Sergeant Dunwiddie and ask him if he’s free for lunch.”
“Yes, sir,” the corporal said.
“Come with us, Schröder,” Gehlen said. “And while we have lunch, I’ll try to determine where you’ll be most useful around here.”
“So, what we’re going to do now,” Dunwiddie said, as the discussion about the airplanes and Schröder and his men died down, “is send a couple of trucks — probably it would be better to send four — to Sonthofen to pick up the other airplane, the mechanics, and the parts. Right?”
Cronley made a Time out signal with his hands and announced, “I’ve been thinking.”
“That’s always dangerous,” Tiny said.
“Kurt, now that you know what’s going on here, what about your men?” Cronley asked.
“What Hauptman Cronley is asking, Schröder,” Mannberg said, “is (a) whether you trust them to keep their mouths shut about what they might see here, and (b) whether they understand what will happen to them if they talk. We simply cannot have them talking, even to their wives.”
It took Schröder a good fifteen seconds to frame his reply.
“Two of them served with me in the East,” he began. “When I tell them the same security protocol we had there will apply here, they will understand. If they don’t wish to subject themselves to that protocol, I won’t bring them here.”
“And the third man?” Mannberg asked.
“He is a brother of one of the men who was with me in the East. If he is reluctant to accept the protocol, then I will not bring either of them here.”
“How long would it take you to hold this conversation, conversations, with them?” Cronley said.
“Do I understand that I am to return to Sonthofen with the trucks?”
“Answer my question, please.”
“Thirty minutes or so. No longer than that.”
“And how long would it take to tell them, ‘Say nothing to anyone, I will return here shortly’? With confidence that they would obey that order?”
“You’ve lost me, Jim,” Dunwiddie said.
“It would take me twice as long to say that than it did for you to say it. Because I would say it twice, to make sure they understood.”
Cronley nodded, then turned to Tiny.
“What’s going to happen now is that Schröder and I are going to fly back to Sonthofen. When we land, Schröder will deliver that little speech to his men. I will then get out of Storch One, and Schröder will immediately get in Storch One and fly back here. I will then get in Storch Two and fly it back here. When I land, you and Schröder and four trucks will go to Sonthofen, pick up the mechanics and the parts, and drive very slowly and carefully back here.”
When he saw that everyone was considering his remarks with what appeared to be little enthusiasm, Cronley provided amplification.
“If we fly Storch Two back here, that will (a) get it out of Sonthofen immediately, (b) eliminate the risk of it getting damaged while moving it by truck, and (c) questions will not be raised by anyone about a Storch with U.S. Army markings being driven down the roads to here.”
Gehlen and Mannberg nodded their understanding and acceptance. Schröder’s face remained expressionless.
Tiny asked, “And I’m going with the trucks? Why?”
“Because, Marshal Earp, you have your marshal’s badge with which you can dazzle anybody who wants to ask you about anything.”
“Marshal Earp?” General Gehlen asked.
“He was a famous American cowboy, General,” Mannberg said.
“A U.S. Marshal,” Cronley corrected him. “In the Arizona Territory before it became a state. He and his brothers and a dentist named Doc Holliday were involved in — I should say won — a famous gunfight in the O.K. Corral in Tombstone.”
“Actually, it wasn’t in the O.K. Corral, but near it,” Tiny further clarified.
Gehlen, Mannberg, and Schröder obviously had no idea what they were talking about.
“Ready to go flying, Kurt?” Cronley said.
Schröder stood.
Cronley handed him the zipper jacket Lieutenant Colonel Wilson had given him.
“Put this on,” he ordered. “If we find ourselves in the hands of the MPs or anyone else asking questions, your answer is you are under orders to answer no questions without the permission of Colonel Robert Mattingly, deputy commander, Counterintelligence, European Command. Got it?”
Schröder nodded, and then repeated, as if to fix it in his memory, “Colonel Robert Mattingly, deputy commander, Counterintelligence, European Command.”
“That’s it,” Cronley confirmed, and then turned to General Gehlen. “When I get back, I want to see our guest.”
Gehlen nodded.
[THREE]
The machine gun jeeps were already moving off the road when Cronley made his first pass over Kloster Grünau. He decided they had seen — or heard — the Storch approaching.
When he turned and made his approach, he saw that a small convoy — a lead machine gun jeep, the Opel Kapitän, two GMC 6×6 trucks, and a trailing machine gun jeep — was lined up on the road from Kloster Grünau.
Tiny’s ready to go, he thought. Why not? It’s a long ride to Sonthofen and back.
Only two trucks; Schröder must have told him he wouldn’t need four.
And then his attention was abruptly brought back to what he was doing — flying.
He was far to the left of the runway; winds had blown him off his intended track.
Well, I guess we’re going to need a windsock.
He corrected his approach and touched gently down where he had originally intended to land.
Not bad, Eddie Rickenbacker!
Especially for someone who professes to hate flying.
Who are you kidding? You love flying and really missed it.
He completed the landing roll, turned the Storch, and taxied to the convoy at the end of the runway. He saw Tiny and Schröder get out of the Kapitän.
Cronley shut down the engine and opened the window.
Schröder, smiling, made a gesture with his hand demonstrating Cronley’s last-second efforts to line up with the runway.
“I was thinking we might need a windsock,” Cronley said.
“I think that’s a very good idea.”