The Berlin Tunnel

by Roger L Liles

  At the time, I’d asked, “Does that mean I no longer need to check every day to determine if the recorders have been reinstalled?”

  “No, Robert, my friend. You’re stuck. It must remain an important part of your daily routine. We’d remove the boxes, wires, and microphones, but that would tell them we’re on to them. We don’t want that. It’s all part of the game—keep them guessing as to what’s really happening in every way possible. Remember, they can reinstall those devices at any time.”

  Anna had just stepped out of the shower when I rushed into our bedroom, kissed her, swung her around, and exclaimed, “I have a special surprise for you in the living room.”

  “Whatever it is, it’ll have to wait while I dry my hair and get dressed.”

  “Put on your robe and come now!”

  Curiosity got the best of her. Following my instructions, Anna walked into the living room. She almost fainted when she saw Stephen.

  “What?” she hesitated, stammering, “Has the border been reopened?”

  “No.”

  She rushed to embrace him. “Did you escape?”

  “No. Robert came to get me!”

  She looked over at me in amazement. “How…what did….why not all of them?”

  We sat in the living room, going over the events of the day. Anna kissed and embraced me frequently. At one point she said, “I don’t know how to tell you how much I love you and how eternally grateful I am. You risked your life today to rescue my family. And you managed to get Stephen out. He can continue his education in the West. That’s very important to my whole family.”

  She then began to weep. After she recovered somewhat from her sadness, she said, “Stephen, you can live with us. You will be able to go back to school tomorrow.”

  Pointing at the radiator and then my ear, I said, “I believe it would be best if, first thing in the morning, we placed Stephen on an airplane for Frankfort.”

  Anna nodded in agreement. “Your great-uncle from Darmstadt can pick you up. What do you say?”

  “I’d like that,” Stephen replied. “And great-grandfather is there; I really want to be with him!”

  That evening in bed, she held on to me and cried. “It is too bad you could not get them all out.”

  “I wanted to, but he was the only one at your parents’ house. It was too risky to try to find all of the others.” I ached for Anna, as she sobbed. I assured her, “When it’s safe, I’ll try again to rescue your family.”

  Chapter 103

  Friday, August 18, 1961

  After Monday’s excursion East, Scott, Kurt, and I met frequently.

  At this first gathering, Kurt revealed, “My lady friend, whose name is Erica, was in her apartment and could have come with her mother. But our daughter, Gretchen, who’s only eleven, was at a youth camp for two weeks. Erica decided to stay behind for obvious reasons.”

  “So, we still have fifteen people to get out of that hell hole,” Scott said.

  “Before we attempt to get the rest of our people out, we must make careful plans, and the extraction must be precisely timed,” Kurt advised. “Being patient is important.”

  “I’ve heard people are escaping through the sewers and storm drains, which were built long before the city was divided,” I offered.

  “The East Germans sealed most of those back in the early 1950s in an attempt to crack down on the tremendous black marketing of goods unavailable in the East,” Kurt said.

  “As long as the drains and sewers are still functioning, humans will figure a way through those barriers,” Scott observed.

  “I’ve heard that people can travel to another country like Czechoslovakia, cross the border into neutral Austria, and then fly to safety from there.” I offered.

  “Exit visas are now being very tightly controlled,” Kurt replied. “But I’ve heard that one of the senior officials who issues those documents can be bribed.”

  “If you need money to make any of this happen, let me know,” Scott offered.

  “It might take lots of money,” Kurt replied.

  “I’ve got lots of money.”

  I shot a puzzled look at Scott, but I didn’t ask any questions. Was he willing to pay the cost of getting Anna’s family to safety, or just his three loved ones? I wondered.

  “As you both know, I’ve contacts on both sides of the border,” Kurt said. “Let’s meet again on Tuesday. By then I’ll know more.”

  Chapter 104

  Friday-Saturday, August 19-20, 1961

  On Thursday, President Kennedy announced his response to the closing of the border between East and West Berlin. He dispatched his Vice President, Lyndon Johnson, and General Lucien Clay to West Berlin to “assure its people of our continued commitment to their freedom.”

  When we heard about their visit, Anna said, “If you asked the average Berliner who they would want to visit during these troubled times, they would almost universally say General Clay.”

  “Why?”

  “He was the military governor of Germany. He organized the Berlin Air Lift, which saved this city in 1948. We all love him. If it weren’t for him, we would all be living under communist rule now. He is our savior and one of Papa’s heroes.” She frowned. “Too bad Papa can’t see him.”

  On Friday, I learned that Gerald Scherman and I would be giving Vice President Johnson a briefing on the construction of our tunnel and the Signals Exploitation Center before he departed on Monday. After I helped to prepare the presentation on Saturday morning, Anna and I stood with over a million Berliners as Johnson and Clay tried to get to the Brandenburg Gate via motorcade. They failed because the throngs brought the procession to a slow walk.

  That evening, Johnson gave a speech at the Schoenberg Town Hall, in which he reassured Berliners by saying, “President Kennedy wants you to know, I want you to know, and the entire United States wants you to know that we are pledged to maintain the freedom of West Berlin. Our commitment is firm.”

  The next day, President Kennedy transferred 1,500 men from the 8th Infantry Division to Berlin in a show of force. No one had any idea how the Russians would react to this significant force movement, because these men would bring their full complement of arms and howitzers with them. This action proved uneventful, although nearly all West Berlin turned out to welcome another visible sign of America’s resolve. In my uniform again, I saluted as they passed by.

  An elderly West Berliner and his young granddaughter introduced themselves to us as we stood on a sidewalk just before the parade passed by. An obviously well-educated gentleman confided, “Until these troops arrived, I was concerned your commitment to us was just words. Now, I’m sure you will keep us free. On behalf of all Berliners, I want to thank you.”

  I saluted him. Anna and I both hugged his granddaughter.

  As our troops passed by me, I felt proud to be an American. We risked another war, but we’d undertaken the correct course of action.

  Walking hand in hand as we neared our apartment building, Anna started to cry. By the time we reached our door, she was sobbing. I picked her up, carried her inside, and placed her on the bed. Using my handkerchief, I dried her tears and gently embraced her. “Please don’t cry.”

  “Don’t you understand. Everything over the last week makes me both happy and sad. Very sad, and also very anxious. I just don’t know what I would do without you. You’re my entire world now, Robbie. My family is no longer free. My poor, broken country—how much longer must we Germans pay for the mistakes of the past? You Americans are committed to a free West Berlin, but those in the East, including my family, are cast adrift on a communist sea.”

  Chapter 105

  Monday, August 21, 1961

  “Show me what you got. No lollygagging,” six-foot-four Vice President Johnson requested after introductions to Colonel Morgan, Mark, Scott, and me. He seemed to fill the small conference room in my tank with his presence.

  Gerald started through his slideshow going over each detail—the buil
ding outside, the basement, the ramp, the first pressure door.

  “What’s that damn door for?”

  I responded to his question. “For the last hundred and fifty years, every tunnel under a body of water has used increased air pressure to prevent water leaks during the drilling process. The two pressure doors allow us to remove the excavated soil and resupply concrete tunnel structural elements in one section of the tunnel, while boring operations continue in another.”

  “Got it! Go on!”

  Having a famous man at my work place seemed almost surreal.

  The slideshow continued with pictures of the boring head, tunnel shield, soil removal and structural element placement.

  “Got it! How much is done now and when will the whole shooting match be operational?”

  “Captain Kerr will give the next part of the briefing,” Mr. Gerald Scherman informed the Vice President. “He’s the Chief Engineer on the project.”

  Take a deep breath. Smile. Relax. He won’t bite you.

  “Sir, if you would come over to the charts hanging on the wall, I’ll show you where we are and what we intend to do over the next few months. As you can see, here is a front view and a side view of the tunnel. The ramp here, the two pressure doors, and the river here. We finished tunneling several weeks ago and have recently installed this vertical shaft,” I said, pointing to another set of drawings.

  “Captain, who designed that makeshift contraption?”

  “I did, sir. With the help of several mechanical engineers.”

  “Do you think it’ll work?”

  “The telescoping shaft is an improvised—Rube Goldberg kind of contraption, sir. It’s in place now. We finished installing it ten days ago. As we got close to the surface, we encountered debris from the building which once occupied the site, but with effort and ingenuity, my crew managed to get that contraption, as you call it, around the communications tube.”

  “How’d you manage that?”

  “We don’t have time for a detailed explanation—suffice it to say that windshield-wiper type blades are located on the top part of the shaft roof.” I pointed to the plan on the wall. “They dug the earth as the shaft was slowly extended into place with hydraulic jacks. The excavated debris fell through an opening in the center to the floor of the tunnel. We then used wheelbarrows and shovels to remove that debris.”

  “And you did that without disturbing the surface of that vacant lot above.”

  “That’s correct, sir.”

  “Amazing. If it had been detected, the East Germans and Soviets would’ve raised more hell last week than they did.”

  “That’s the reason we took two weeks to complete this one task.”

  “I’m glad. Last year, the Soviets made a big stink about the U-2 spy plane and Francis Gary Powers. That’d be chicken-feed compared to the stink they’d make if this tunnel were found.”

  “Yes, sir, I’m sure it would.”

  “Now, I know who you are. Captain Robert Kerr. The young genius that took those Washington bureaucrats’ scatter-brained dreams and turned them into reality. Congratulations, son. I want to shake your hand again.” He extended a giant hand and warmly shook mine.

  “Make me a promise, son, don’t let the Washington types like Mr. Scherman here push you into making a mistake. Complete this construction at your own pace. With the delicate situation we’re in now, we don’t need an international incident because of it. Is that clear?”

  I flushed at his praise. “Don’t worry, sir, my crew and I can handle it.”

  This moment makes all of my hard work worth the sacrifice. I’ll have to share this with my men.

  “Are you finished?”

  “By no means, sir. Construction will take most of the rest of the year. We are now building the Signals Exploitation Center, which will occupy the basement and most of the first floor of the building. Also, some barracks, a mess hall, and other facilities. Plus, we’ll be remodeling the apartments…”

  “—We are going to turn this building into an American housing complex. It’ll be occupied exclusively by those who work there,” Gerald interjected. “We’ll hide a major intelligence collection site in the middle of Berlin, in plain sight.”

  “Clever. Hope it works,” the Vice President said, moving toward the door then turning back to me. “How big a crew do you have working for you now, Captain?”

  “Fifty-eight men, sir, all three services. They’re a mixture of active duty and reserves called back to active duty.”

  “I’ll make sure that every one of them gets a medal. No make that two medals. Take my word for that.”

  “Thank you, sir. The men will appreciate your recognition of their efforts.”

  “Gentlemen, I must go. Running late…seems like I’ve been late since I got here!” Vice President Johnson said as he shook each person’s hand and left the tank. On the way out, he gave me a pat on the back.

  Within two hours, Thomas Lane stood in my office raising hell. “You knew that Vice President Johnson was going to receive a briefing on my tunnel project today, and you didn’t inform me of that fact.”

  “Mr. Scherman was responsible for inviting people to that meeting…”

  “I needed to be there to assure the CIA’s interests were protected. Scherman is an NSA guy. He may still be leading the overall effort, but it’s mine here in Berlin. Do you not understand that you work for me?” he shouted.

  “Well, sir, my actual chain of command is through Colonel Morgan. I suggest that if you…”

  “—Listen carefully to me. This is a CIA tunnel, and I’m in charge here. Is that clear?” he again shouted.

  I answered with silence. I understood what the real problem was. Lane hoped to use the meeting with the Vice President to gain an advantage—either a promotion or political appointment. From this point on, he redoubled his efforts to make my working life hell. I avoided him as much as possible. His enmity would end in disaster.

  Chapter 106

  Tuesday, August 29, 1961

  “The offer of East German exit visas for money was a trap,” Kurt announced to the escape team in my tank.

  “How’s that?” Scott asked.

  “They accept payment, take an individual’s passport or identification documents, and ask them to return in three days. When they return, they’re arrested. Although usually later released, they are placed permanently on the Stasi watch list.”

  “Glad we waited,” I said.

  “The students at the Free University are using three methods of getting fellow students out,” Kurt continued. “The first is a real passport made out to the individual carrying it.”

  “Where did they get those?” I asked.

  “They’re Belgian passports. The real thing. The father of a student is a senior official, and he provided blank passports and the required seals to make them official. A cover story is even provided for trips across the border.”

  “Amazing.”

  “The second is the passport of another individual who looks enough like the person in the photo to pass through.”

  “That won’t work for us. We have some children.”

  “The third is a sewer recently opened with hacksaws and diligent effort.”

  “The adults might stand the stench and filth, but not the five children.”

  “An individual at the Swiss legation is selling real passports for 300,000 West Marks each.”

  “Seventy-five thousand dollars each,” I gasped. “Wow! That’s way out of my means, and I’ve got to pay for ten people.”

  “Swedish and Danish passports are much less expensive, but then you have the language problem when you try to cross the border,” Kurt remarked. “With those Swiss passports, you can be from almost anywhere in Switzerland and have German as your mother tongue.”

  “As I recall, there are two German-speaking cantons in Belgium,” Scott said. “One of my German language professors was born there.”

  “Kurt, can you find the source
of those Belgian passports?” I asked.

  “I’ll call another meeting as soon as I gather the information.”

  Chapter 107

  Friday, September 8, 1961

  “My real name is Kurt Altschuler,” he told Anna. “Finding a way to get our loved ones out of East Berlin has been difficult. We need your help.”

  “Obviously I’m willing, since Robert explained that my family is among the fifteen people we are trying to help escape.”

  “Do I remember correctly that your father has a camera and knows how to use it?” I said.

  “Yes, he has a prewar 35-millimeter Leica, which he’s very proud of.”

  “Does he also have a tripod?” Kurt asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Anna, if you agree, you’ll transport two rolls of black and white film to the East tomorrow, and then you’ll return immediately after they’re exposed,” I explained.

  “Everyone will gather at your parent’s house for a party,” Kurt revealed. “Your parents expect them. Ask your father to take three photographs of each member of his family and each of their guests against a uniform, light-colored background.”

  “In addition to the film, you’ll return with a description of each individual…height, weight, age, hair and eye color,” Scott added. “A Belgian passport will then be generated for each of the fifteen, which they’ll use to get to the West. Your help is urgently needed, because too many escapees are using Belgian passports. The Stasi is bound to become suspicious and close this avenue of escape.”

  “You can no longer stay in the East overnight, so you’ll be home in time for us to go out to dinner,” I reminded her.

  After I escorted her down the stairs and into her office, she kissed me. “Robbie, thank you for working so hard to get my family out. I love you so.”

  “I promised, remember!”

  “I hope nothing goes wrong. I’ll try to think only happy thoughts about my family.”

  Chapter 108