31.
London, March 1943
Sam Goldman paced anxiously back and forth in Sir Geoffrey’s office. “Relax, Sam. You’re going to wear out the carpet and it’s an authentic Tabriz, 18th century. I bought it in the bazaar in Baghdad and brought it home myself in my younger days as a field operative,” Sir Geoffrey told him.
“I just can’t bear to think of Schumann making it safely to Spain and then being handed back to the Nazis,” Sam replied.
The British Embassy in Madrid had cabled London that the German Ambassador was demanding of the Spanish Foreign Minister that Reich citizen, Klaus Schumann be handed over to them. They claimed it was not an espionage affair, but a simple criminal matter of auto theft in Stuttgart and bicycle theft in Bad Rippoldsau-Schapbach. Of course, the Spaniards knew better, but, given the debt Franco owed Hitler, the Spanish authorities would be strongly inclined to co-operate with Berlin, it was feared.
“Don’t worry, Sam. Allenby is a solid chap and had Schumann on a herring trawler leaving Barcelona within an hour of his arrival,” Freddie interjected. “Of course, when the Spaniards protest to our Embassy, they will deny knowing anything. Worst they can do is kick Allenby out.”
“I hope you’re right,” Sam said.
“They should be docking in Gibraltar anytime now. The Commander there will cable as soon as they enter port. The
HMS Newcastle is waiting to sail for Portsmouth as soon as he’s aboard. Hopefully, he’ll be sitting here in a few days.”
“Best thing we can do is have a Scotch while we wait to hear,” Sir Geoffrey advised. “Eighteen year old Macallan,” he added as he poured the amber liquid into three glasses.
“A very nice age,” Freddie said.
“Old enough to know better,” Sam said as he took a sip. It felt good as it went down. “And what about Moore?” he asked. “Still no word from her?”
“None.” Sir Geoffrey replied. “Schumann told Allenby that they split up in Lyon because she feared she would slow down his bicycle trip to the border and hike over the Pyrenees. Totally counter to SOE policy and her training, but there you go.” Sam bristled a bit at the implication that because she was American she couldn’t be trusted as much as one of their British agents.
“We can hope she used her smarts and knowledge of Lyon to stay underground and that she’ll surface soon, perhaps in Switzerland,” Freddie said. Sam wished he could believe that.
A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. “Come!” Sir Geoffrey shouted.
A rather attractive young woman entered, carrying a sheet of paper. “This has just been decoded, Sir Geoffrey,” she said. “Mr. Forbes said you would want to see it immediately.”
“Yes, thank you, Sybil,” he said, taking the paper and reading it aloud. “Coal has arrived at Newcastle”.
“So, he’s on the way,” Freddie said.
“Indeed,” said Sir Geoffrey. He raised his glass. “To Agent Moore,” he said. “May we soon be welcoming her back here, safe and sound.” He downed the fiery liquid. Sam and Freddie did the same.
***
London, April 1943
It has taken nearly three weeks to debrief Klaus Schumann. First the SOE folks wanted to know all of the details of his interactions with agent Moore, their escape from the clutches of the Gestapo in Stuttgart and their odyssey to Lyon.
He recounted the bicycle journey to the Spanish border and his choice of an alternate route across the Pyrenees. The Brits were intrigued by his tale of having single-handedly killed two German soldiers. The whole thing sounded improbable to say the least, but the incontrovertible fact was that he was here in London.
Then the RAF and the aircraft designers had their go at him. The discussion was too full of technical details for Sam to follow, but he could tell that the engineers from the Gloster Aircraft Company looked rather downcast. It seemed their Meteor, the furthest advanced jet fighter the Allies had, was no match for the Me 262.
Sam could only hope that the engineers and Army Air Corps fellows who would debrief Schumann once they got to the States would be able to use the information he provided to speed their programs along.
Finally, they were done. Sir Geoffrey called Klaus and Sam into his office. There were four glasses set out. “Would you do the honours, Freddie?” he requested.
Sir Geoffrey took the glass from Freddie and took a healthy sip. “My understanding, Mr. Schumann, is that you wish to proceed to America.”
Klaus nodded. “Yes, Sir Geoffrey. I’ve enjoyed my time here in England, but I studied there and am familiar with the country, so that is where I wish to go to live.”
“His Majesty’s Government has no objections to that and I understand that the US Government is prepared to offer you assistance in establishing yourself there, as conveyed to you by Agent Moore.”
Sam Goldman opened the folder that sat on his lap. “Everything has been authorized by the big shots in Washington. You have temporary travel documents in here and we are booked to leave for New York tomorrow. I’ll accompany you there. You’ll be debriefed by our experts, who’ll be just as interested as the Brits in what you have to say about the Me 262.”
“Tomorrow?” Klaus asked. “But what about Barta? Or, should I say, Brenda? We fell in love and she said she would marry me here or in the US.”
“We don’t know where she is,” Freddie replied. “The fact that we haven’t heard from her in almost a month is not a good sign.”
“I don’t want to leave until I know what happened to her.”
Sam decided this had gone on long enough. He needed to let Schumann down gently, but firmly. “Look, Klaus, you’re new to this secret agent game, but I’ve been in it for a while, as have these gents.” He indicated Sir Geoffrey and Freddie. “Agents say whatever they need to say to get their targets to do what needs to be done.”
Klaus shook his head. “Not Barta. She’s not like that. She promised.”
Sam continued. “She was authorized to make promises on behalf of the US Government that you can come to America and that we will set you up with money and suitable employment there. Those promises will be kept-you have my word on that. But any promises she made regarding marriage and love and the whole shebang were strictly her doing and neither I nor the President himself can make her keep those, if she’s even alive.”
“Look, be a sport, Schumann,” Freddie said. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a war going on. Millions are dying and your little tryst with our agent doesn’t rank against that, I’m afraid.”
“But at least I want to know whether she’s alive or dead,” Klaus protested.
“So would we,” Sir Geoffrey said. “Unfortunately, some times that isn’t possible. Now you go with Mr. Goldman and have a nice dinner and tomorrow morning you’ll be on your way. And I do wish you all the best. A man who can outsmart the Nazis and make it across the Spanish border on his own will do just fine in America. There are certainly plenty of women there who would be happy to marry you, I’m sure.”
Sam nodded to confirm that. “A smart, good looking guy like you will have to fight them off.”
Klaus looked like he had accepted the situation as the best any one could do. As he and Sam were standing to leave, a knock came at the door. It was another young woman, equally as pretty as the one who had brought the telegram from Gibraltar.
“This arrived in the diplomatic pouch from the Embassy in Stockholm. It’s addressed ‘To Your Eyes Only’, Sir Geoffrey.”
Sir Geoffrey opened the envelope. There was a film canister and a single sheet of paper. He stared at the paper. “It’s from Klaus Barbie in Lyon,” he said. “It says, in German, ‘This is what became of your agent, Barbara Moore. If you send any more agents, the same fate awaits them. Heil Hitler!’”.
Klaus looked at Sam. “Barbara Moore? Is that her real name?” he asked. Sam nodded. He really wasn’t supposed to acknowledge that to someone who wasn’t in the OSS or the SOE, but he didn’t suppose it mattered now. Barbie wasn’t sending this film because he had treated Barb to a walk in the park.
“And this must mean they have her,” Klaus said, shaking his head. “Or had her, because she’s dead from torture or execution.”
“I’m afraid that’s the most likely scenario,” Freddie said.
“I want to watch it,” Klaus said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sam replied. “It’s bound to be gruesome.”
“I realize that,” Klaus protested. “I was there in Stuttgart in the Hotel Silber. They were just getting started and they would have tortured me, too, I’m sure, if your RAF bombs hadn’t fallen. I risked my life to get here to help you, and Barta or Barbara has given her life to save me. I deserve to see what happened to her.”
“It’s your call, Sir Geoffrey,” Sam said.
Sir Geoffrey downed the remains of his Scotch. “Fine, Mr. Schumann. You can watch.” He called to have a projector and screen set up.
The film was as gruesome as advertised. Sam had to look away at times, but he noticed that Schumann watched the whole thing, tears streaming down his face.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Finally, Klaus spoke. “This is why I couldn’t stay in Germany any longer. That they could do such a thing to her is unspeakable. And so much more they are doing, just as bad and worse. We know it, but no one speaks of it. So, I am ready to go now to the US. I will do everything I can there to help defeat these evil people. Please, Mr. Goldman, may we go?”
). The SOE really needs to step up their training regimens...
