On Desperate Ground (31 page)

“It was an Enigma message that came into Exchange 500 for an
Untersturmführer
Wertholz. He’s in charge of the security detail Hettstedt is bringing here.”

“Hettstedt?”

“Yes, he’s coming to arrest you and Hans. But once he does, Wertholz is to take him into custody also.”

“What?” Dieter could not comprehend what was happening, or why.
 

“How much time do we have?” Jost asked, not bothering to try to understand why this was happening, but focusing on how to stop it.

“The message didn’t say. I’d guess that it was sent after they left Berlin, otherwise they could have told Wertholz in person. An hour at most, or any minute now.”

“Who sent the message?” Dieter asked.
 

“
Brigadeführer
Hermann Fegelin.”

“My God,” exclaimed Jost. “He’s near the top of the heap. Why is he interested in you?” Jost and Dieter had both assumed the arrests had something to do with Elsa and the hospital, or Hans’ being a suspect in the plot against Hitler. Fegelin’s involvement meant something else entirely. Himmler’s personal liaison to Adolf Hitler would not be sending such a message unless it had a major significance to his boss.
 

“We have to tell the Colonel. Jost, get Hans and meet us in Faust’s office. Gustav, take your communications unit and get out of here now. We’ll meet you at the Wittenberg field headquarters. For the record, I am accepting this radio message from you for delivery to
Untersturmführer
Wertholz.”

“You’re a good man,
Herr Hauptmann.
Good luck.”

“Thanks, we’ll need it.”

Dieter walked quickly across the courtyard towards the main building and Faust, weaving between troops loading equipment and weapons for the 90-kilometer trip to Wittenberg. They had commandeered a large farm on the outskirts of the city, across the Elbe River and nestled in a small wooded valley near the village of Eutzsch. It provided excellent cover from the air and access to the main operational area, with a high ridge to the south that gave them a clear view along the Elbe River valley. About 12 kilometers to the south a small rise was visible, marking the center of the
Dübener Heide.

Dieter’s mind raced furiously as he approached the main building. He knew he had to find out if Elsa was in danger, and warn her if she had not already been arrested. The possibility was unbearable, and the rest remained a mystery. Why would someone like Fegelin or even Himmler care about him, or Hans? Someone no higher in rank than Hettstedt could deal with them, even a junior
Untersturmführer
like Wertholz.
 

The sudden realization hit him like a thunderbolt and literally stopped him in his tracks. The SS was after Operation Gambit! They were going to use charges against him and Hans to force an SS takeover of the operation. They had probably used Hettstedt to investigate them right from the beginning to ferret out such an excuse. And since Hettstedt had also been part of Gambit from the start, they were probably going to throw him to the wolves to show it wasn’t inter-service rivalry. It made terrible sense.

Dieter stopped in mid-stride as he mounted to steps to open the door. He had decided he would do whatever it took to stop Gambit before it succeeded. He had told Elsa about it yesterday, as much to make the decision real to him as to tell her, to convince himself, to give himself the backbone he needed when the time came. He couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing her.

Dieter turned from the door, not quite ready to enter. He took a breath and looked up at the sky for a moment. The sun was low and lit the sides of the whitewashed buildings. It was a beautiful, sideways light that he always enjoyed. Strange, he thought, how beauty shines through in even the worst of times. He thought of Elsa and their future. Of the next generation of German children. Would they grow up in the midst of a never-ending war, or in peace? Would they be little Hitler Youth, taught to march in step, or free to speak their minds?

He hadn’t thought through exactly how he would stop Gambit. He had hoped it would simply fail in some obvious manner, and he would not have to endanger his men in sabotage. But now he knew he would stop it, because the cost would be too great if he didn’t. Far greater than a few hundred veteran soldiers with the mark of Cain already upon them. But first, there was the SS to deal with. If they took over, there would be no chance at all. Steeling himself, he opened the door.

Dieter wanted Benedikt with him. He looked in the briefing room first, and then found the newly promoted
Hauptmann
in the mess hall with his two junior officers. He signaled him to come with him. By the time they arrived at Faust’s office, Jost and Hans were right behind them.
 

Faust stood before the fireplace, a roaring fire burning as he fed documents into it. He wanted no trace, written or otherwise, to survive at Zossen once they departed. The OKH headquarters was indefensible. It was situated on open terrain, and all combat forces were located north, in the main line of defense in the Berlin suburbs. Once the Russians broke across the Oder River, they would be here in a matter of days.
 

“Gentlemen, are you ready to depart?” Faust asked as he tossed the last of a handful of papers into the fire. Turning to face the small group, he saw the looks on their faces and immediately knew there was a serious problem.

“What has happened?”
 

Benedikt and von Schierke also both stared at Dieter with questioning looks on their faces.
 

“Colonel, we have intercepted a radio message that an SS detachment commanded by
Sturmbannführer
Hettstedt is on its way here to take myself and von Schierke into custody.”

Faust allowed himself the slightest hesitation as he took in this information. “What are the charges, and why do you refer to this enlisted man as
von
Schierke? His name on the rolls is Hans Schierke.”

“Colonel, permission to speak?” Hans asked, standing to attention. Faust nodded stiffly.

“My name is von Schierke. Count Hans von Schierke, actually. I transferred into the Brandenburg Division under an abbreviated version of my name in order to avoid reprisals from the Gestapo because of family connections to some of those involved in the 20
^th
July coup attempt.
Hauptmann
Neukirk had no knowledge—”

“Enough.” Faust cut him off. “I doubt such a name change on transfer papers could escape the notice of an officer as capable as
Hauptmann
Neukirk.” Faust fixed Dieter with a withering glare.

“However, Count,” Faust mockingly bowed to von Schierke, “you are an excellent soldier. The men look up to you and follow your lead. I wondered why you had not been made an officer, but now I understand why you were lying low amongst the Hiwis of the Brandenburg Division. I have no inclination to hand you or the
Hauptmann
to the SS. You are both too important
.
”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Neukirk, tell me about this message. How did it come into your hands? Do you have any idea why Hettstedt has turned on you? I thought he had actually grown more cooperative recently.”

Dieter could tell that Faust assumed he was involved due to his falsifying the transfer papers. He hoped that was true, and saw no reason to complicate matters further by telling him about Elsa.

“Sir, there’s actually more to it than that.” Dieter related the details about the radio message and the order for Hettstedt’s arrest. He told them about his suspicions, including the implications of Fegelin’s name on the radio message.

“Fegelin! Damn him!” Faust shouted as he paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, thinking rapidly. “Fegelin originally came up at the
Führer
briefing
with an insane idea about recruiting British POWs to fight the Russians, reasoning that it would draw the Anglo-Americans into the fight with us. It was ridiculous, but it gave me the opening to propose Gambit. Fegelin took it as a slight in front of the
Führer.
”

“Then Dieter’s right,” Benedikt offered. “Himmler wants to take us over.”

“Which means two things,” Faust agreed. “He thinks we have an excellent chance of success, and the Russians must finally be ready to move on Berlin. Do you know how many men there are in the SS detail?”
 

“Not exactly, but given there’s only an
Untersturmführer
in charge, so no more than a platoon.”

The telephone rang on Faust’s desk, startling them all. He picked it up, identified himself, spoke a few quick words, then hung up.

“They’re at the front gate. I told the watch officer to take his time reviewing their orders and letting them in. We have perhaps ten minutes.”

“Colonel, my parachute company is at your disposal,” Benedikt offered.

“Good. Has
Obersturmführer
Strauch left yet?”

“Yes, Colonel,” Jost answered. “He left an hour ago with his men and the HQ staff and guard.”

“Excellent. We won’t have to worry about testing his loyalties. Now, here is the plan.”

* * *

Johann Faust stood outside on the circular gravel driveway in front of his headquarters building. An early evening chill was setting in, but he wore no jacket. He hadn’t wanted to cover any of his medals, knowing that in a confrontation with the SS, his impressive array of medals, including the Close Combat badge, Iron Cross with Diamonds, and the
Afrika Korps
cuffband might give him a moment’s edge. He stood with arms behind his back, feet slightly spread apart, willing himself to be calm.

Nothing must stop me now. We are so close to victory, aren’t we?
The buzzing in his head increased, as if in excitement. A grin split Faust’s face.

Two trucks pulled into the circle, Hettstedt in the front seat of the first truck, staring grimly ahead as it braked to a halt. Hettstedt got out and Faust watched the SS guards line up outside their trucks, counting them as they drew up in formation. Twenty men and one officer. Wertholz followed Hettstedt once his men were in order.

“I have been expecting you,
Sturmbannführer,
but I didn’t think you’d bring us reinforcements.”

“Colonel Faust, I must inform you that I am here on a mission authorized by SS
Brigadeführer
Fegelin and also with the knowledge of
Reichsführer
Himmler himself.” Hettstedt puffed himself up with this pronouncement, meant to intimidate Faust. Instead, Faust calmly looked at Hettstedt, taking in the nervous twitch and darting eyes. He could tell the man was wound up.

“I am honored. The nature of this mission?”

This was not going the way Hettstedt wanted it to. He wanted Faust scared and obedient in the face of his newfound power. Instead, the man was infuriatingly polite.
 

“You must deliver Dieter Neukirk and Hans Schierke into my custody. They are wanted for interrogation as enemies of the State.”

“That is a very serious charge. May I see your orders?”

“I am acting on behalf of
Reichsführer
Himmler! Call him if you wish, but tell me where Neukirk and Schierke are now!”

“Far be it from me to interfere with State security,
Sturmbannführer.
I will deliver them into your custody as soon as they return.”

“From where?” Hettstedt was pleased at this turn of events, certain that Faust had finally recognized him as an important person within the SS hierarchy.
 

“Neukirk took a small detail to the motor pool to draw another vehicle and spare parts. One of the command cars chose to blow out its transmission, so Neukirk took Schierke and two other enlisted men with him to get a new half-track. They won’t be back for another hour or so. You’re very lucky, most of the unit has already departed. ”

“We will wait here,” announced Hettstedt, looking around the courtyard. “Once they enter this area, there will be no escape.”

“Excellent idea. Would you and the
Untersturmführer
join me in my office for some coffee while we wait?” Faust watched Wertholz look expectantly at Hettstedt. It had been a long ride, and the thought of coffee was tempting.
 

“Certainly, Colonel. Wertholz, tell your men to watch for anyone entering the courtyard and detain them. You may join us.” Hettstedt enjoyed demonstrating to the junior officer how easily he managed such an impressive-looking
Wehrmacht
officer. Wertholz gave his men instructions and followed them inside, hoping for real coffee and perhaps some schnapps.

The office was warm from the fire, and Hettstedt sat in the chair next to it while Wertholz stood near him. Faust lifted the telephone receiver and called the mess for coffee.
 

“You must forgive the lack of office staff today. We are moving everyone to our field headquarters. You will take your place at Exchange 500 as planned,
Sturmbannführer?”

“Definitely, Colonel, as soon as this business is resolved.” Hettstedt did plan to be part of Operation Gambit, not as a glorified messenger boy, but in a more impressive role. They chatted for a few minutes, and then the office door opened. Jost Brunner entered, dressed in a white orderly’s jacket and carrying a tray with a coffeepot and cups. He set the tray down on the desk and poured the coffee. After everyone was served he stepped back respectfully and folded his arms behind his back at parade rest.