by Iain Colvin
‘Okay, okay.’
Brian unlocked the car and they all climbed in. After a seven-point turn they made their way down the farm track and joined the main road back to Thurso. The rain came on again and Brian switched on the windscreen wipers. They struggled against the downpour so Brian dropped his speed so that he didn’t have to peer too far beyond the waterlogged glass.
‘Ready?’ asked Fiona.
‘Ready for what?’ asked Craig in return. Two could play this game.
‘Ready for the theory we’ve been chewing over.’
Craig looked at Brian who raised his eyebrows as if to reiterate the question Fiona posed.
Craig sighed. ‘Fire away.’
‘Brian, tell him about the resurgence of the peace group,’ said Fiona.
Brian nodded. ‘Okay. By summer 1942, the peace group were ready to try again. Britain’s position was still perilous even though America and the Soviet Union had joined us by then. The blitz had stopped, but in the Atlantic we were still losing more ships to U-boats than we could replace. Britain was fighting a losing war against Japan in the Far East, with Singapore, Malaysia and Burma all in Japanese hands. Rommel was making gains in North Africa too. At that point it looked like the Germans would also win in Russia having survived the harsh winter there. Stalingrad was still in the future.’ Brian looked at Craig. ‘No matter how you looked at it, Britain was still losing the war. Churchill had stalled the peace group up to that point, but the fall of Tobruk in June was a devastating blow to British morale and was probably the catalyst that drove the peace group to play their hand.’
‘The timing was right, I get that,’ said Craig. ‘But when does Loch More come into the story?’
‘There’s a bit of background I have to explain. Firstly, Frank Mills came to the SOE’s attention. He officially died in Pentonville prison in March 1942, but that was a front. You’ve seen the film I Was Monty’s Double?’
Craig confirmed that he had. It was an old black and white war film that told the true story of an actor who doubled as General Montgomery to fool the Germans in the lead up to D-Day.
‘The SOE were handed a gift with Mills. He was undoubtedly Hess’s double. You saw the photo. The SOE even secretly made an exact duplicate of Hess’s Luftwaffe uniform for him to wear.’
‘Why would they go to such trouble to prepare a doppelganger for Hess?’
‘For the same reason as they created a double for Monty. Sleight of hand. But it wasn’t to fool the Germans. It was to fool the peace group. And the Poles.’
‘The Poles?’
‘Yes. The Polish Government in exile was here in Britain. What you have to remember about the Poles is that although they hated the Germans, they feared the Soviets. When Britain signed a twenty-year alliance with the Soviet Union in May 1942, the writing was on the wall for the Poles. The Soviets were pushing for the allies to open a second front in western Europe, which would give Stalin the opportunity to counterattack in the east and roll his forces across Poland and into Germany. The European mainland would be wide open to Soviet domination.’
‘Hobson’s choice for Poland.’
‘Believe me Craig, the Poles wanted to avoid being swallowed up by the Soviet Union as much as they wanted to free themselves of Hitler.’
Fiona piped up from the back seat. ‘Tell him about the king’s brother.’
Brian smiled. ‘Yes Fiona, I was coming to that.’ He kept one eye on the road as he turned to Craig. The windscreen wipers continued to fight a losing battle against the cloudburst. ‘The Duke of Kent was pivotal in all this. He was in Scotland on the weekend that Hess crashed. He was not only a key link between the peace group and the king, he was part of the reception committee for Hess at Dungavel House. He was also very close with the Poles, so much so that he was offered the Polish throne, would you believe. By summer 1942 the peace group had hatched a plan. Churchill was out of the country in the August, visiting Stalin in Moscow. The peace group could make their move to release Hess with Polish help, and fly him to Sweden as a gesture that they were serious about peace. Talks with Germany would then be conducted with the aim of taking Britain out of the war.’
‘I find that very hard to believe,’ said Craig.
‘Consider this. Churchill received intelligence that the Poles were planning a rescue mission, so he moved Hess from Aldershot to Abergavenny in the June.’
‘Why is that strange?’
‘It’s not strange in itself. But the move was leaked to the press. It was all over the papers. There was a bit of a fanfare about it at the time.’
Craig thought about it. ‘Are you saying that was when a switch was done? Mills was publicly installed in Wales while the real Hess was moved to Caithness?’
‘Yes,’ said Brian. ‘The new location in Abergavenny was less secure than Aldershot, which makes no sense whatsoever if they were worried about a rescue attempt.’
Brian peered through the windscreen. ‘Here’s something else for you. The Sunderland that they used had a typical camouflage pattern, the same as all the other aeroplanes in the squadron. Interestingly, just prior to its final mission, that plane was repainted white.’
Craig wore a puzzled look so Brian elaborated. ‘During the war, aircraft flying into or between neutral countries were all painted white, to demonstrate that they were unarmed. If you ask me, that’s another reason why they removed the wreckage,’ said Brian.
They passed a sign that told them that Thurso was five miles ahead. Craig looked out of the window at the rain and the countryside. He thought about the wording on the memorial on Eagle’s Rock. ‘…who lost their lives on active service during a flight to Iceland on a special mission.’
‘There’s one final strange thing about the crash,’ said Brian. ‘And it’s the strangest thing of all.’
‘What?’ said Craig.
‘The Sunderland took off from Invergordon that day with fifteen people on board; ten crew, their commanding officer, the Duke of Kent and his personal entourage of three. When the plane crashed, among those who rushed to the crash site were local policemen and the local doctor. Later they were joined by an RAF team from Wick who had been in contact with Invergordon to check on the flight and who was on board. Eyewitness accounts said that although some of the bodies were badly burned, all were intact. Later that evening, the Air Ministry confirmed that all the crew had lost their lives. Fifteen bodies were taken off the hillside. The next day, the morning papers reported that all fifteen on board were killed.’
‘I sense there’s a “but” coming,’ said Craig.
‘There is. A big but. Almost twenty-four hours later, the tail gunner, Flight Sergeant Andy Jack, turned up at a crofter’s cottage two miles away.’
‘Alive?’
‘Very much so. It would seem that by some miracle he was thrown clear of the crash. He must have been injured and disoriented because he said he wandered around the countryside looking for help. He left the scene before the search parties arrived and didn’t show up until early afternoon the following day. Subsequent newspaper reports revised the final body count down to fourteen. The fact remains that they took fifteen bodies off the mountain, not fourteen.’
‘How many names are listed on the memorial at Eagle’s Rock?’ asked Fiona.
‘Fourteen,’ answered Brian.
‘Did the tail gunner confirm what happened?’ asked Craig.
‘No. He was taken to a local hospital and because he had burns on his face he couldn’t make a full statement at the time. He was visited the next day by two senior officers who made him sign the Official Secrets Act with his burned hands. And that was that. He said nothing about the crash afterwards. Weirdly, he was not even asked to give evidence at the formal enquiry.’
‘That is incredible,’ said Craig.
They arrived in Thurso and Brian followed the signs to the railway station and parked close to the hotel. As they hurried along the pavement to avoid the rain, Craig thought of something.<
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‘There’s one major flaw in your theory,’ said Craig.
‘What?’ asked Brian.
‘Hess is still alive and in West Berlin. Mills was British. Hess is German. It’s madness. For one, he wouldn’t be able to pass himself off as German let alone pass himself off as Hess.’
‘Well, you see, Frank Mills wasn’t his real name. He changed it in 1937 before he got married to an English girl. You see, he moved to Britain as a boy with his parents. He was Swiss, from Basel. His real name was Franz Meier and German was his first language. Like so many others at the time, he changed his name to make it sound less Germanic.’
Craig stopped walking and stood still, oblivious to the rain soaking his face and running down his neck. ‘You’re sure of this, aren’t you?’ he asked.
The university lecturer looked him straight in the eye. ‘It’s a matter of public record. It fits, Craig. It all fits. Hess’s mission, the peace offer, the Royal Prerogative, the official silence afterwards. And now we’ve stumbled onto the biggest secret of all. This is why they have to keep it so secret. The authorities can’t let it be known that the prisoner in Spandau isn’t Hess.’
They entered the hotel and went to Brian’s room where they each instinctively took their seat from the day before.
It was Craig who broke the silence again.
‘Okay. Let’s assume that the Sunderland did pick up someone from Loch More. Isn’t it just as likely if not more likely that the person they picked up was Mills? Churchill knew the peace group was planning something and drew them into a trap using Mills as bait.’
‘That may have been his plan,’ said Brian, ‘but remember that Churchill laid the trap for them in Wales. That’s why Hess’s move from Aldershot was so well publicised. He wanted everyone to think that Hess was in Abergavenny. But it was the peace group who double-bluffed him by finding out about the switch and springing the real Hess from his hiding place in Caithness. It’s probable that they received help from an insider, an informer in the SOE who revealed details of the switch and Hess’s true location.’
Craig thought about it. ‘Okay, but I’ve thought of another flaw in your theory,’ said Craig. ‘If the real Hess died as you say, why didn’t Churchill quietly dispose of Mills before the end of the war rather than letting him go to trial at Nuremberg?’
‘That has me baffled I confess,’ said Brian. ‘The other thing that baffles me is why would anyone volunteer to accept Hess’s fate.’
Brian leafed through his notebook again, as if the answer would present itself if only he turned to the right page. ‘If it is true, it would explain why Hess refused to see his wife and son for twenty-four years,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t such a family man ask to see Ilse and Wolf until 1969?’
Neither Craig nor Fiona could offer an appropriate answer to Brian’s question.
‘Did you know that he’s been on his own since 1966?’ asked Fiona.
‘Yes, that’s true,’ said Brian. ‘Seven men were imprisoned in total. In 1966 his last two fellow inmates – Albert Speer and Baldur von Schirach – were both released, leaving Hess on his own.’
‘Why do you think they haven’t released him?’ Fiona asked. ‘Is it because the British are scared?’
‘I think it’s more to do with the Soviet veto against releasing him,’ said Brian. ‘Every so often the former Allies discuss it, but each time the Russians veto it.’
‘Why?’
‘He’s a pawn. Spandau is in West Berlin. Each of the four Allied forces takes a turn to guard him a month at a time. So for three months of the year the Soviet Union has a toehold in West Berlin.’
Fiona opened her mouth as if she was going to say something else, then closed it again. Finally she decided to speak.
‘Tell Craig about the bullet wound.’
‘The bullet wound?’ asked Craig.
Brian reached for his notebook again, opened it at the page he was looking for and handed it to Craig. Craig was surprised to see a hand-drawn picture of a man’s torso. Or rather, two pictures, showing the front view and the back view. On the front view a large ‘X’ had been marked in the upper chest midway between the left armpit and the left collar bone. The rear view had a corresponding ‘X’ drawn between the left shoulder blade and the spine.
‘I have a friend who works at the University of Munich,’ said Brian. ‘I contacted him a few weeks ago to see if he could dig up anything from the German records office. As it turns out, not only were the German records very thorough, they aren’t as shrouded in secrecy as the British equivalents. For example, he found documentation describing the preparations for Hess’s flight, including the dispatch of spare fuel tanks to Sweden. My friend also found an incredible document in the university archive itself.’
‘Oh yes?’ said Craig, pricking up his ears at the prospect of actual, physical documentation that might strengthen the story. ‘What did he find?’
‘A copy of Hess’s medical record from his time at the university, after the First World War. It recorded that Hess was wounded twice during his army service. He received shrapnel wounds to his left arm and hand while fighting at Verdun in June 1916. He recovered from those and was posted to Romania, where he suffered a more serious injury.’ He pointed to the drawings in his notebook. ‘He was shot by a sniper and was hospitalised for four months. But he was lucky. The bullet passed straight through his body without hitting any bones or vital organs.’
‘I didn’t know that,’ said Craig.
Fiona couldn’t contain herself. ‘Brian and I discussed it while you were away in your huff earlier.’ She smiled at him to show that she was merely teasing. ‘One of the interesting facts Brian’s unearthed was that from the time of Hess’s appearance at Nuremberg to now, he’s been examined by dozens of doctors. Some of the medical reports go into incredible detail, for example one doctor noted a quarter inch mole on his chest.’ She paused for effect. ‘Not once in all those examinations were his shrapnel scars or the bullet wound mentioned. Not once. Scars fade over time but they never disappear. Especially not a serious bullet wound which has entry and exit holes.’ She beamed at Craig, pleased with her revelation.
Not for the first time that day, Craig was struck dumb. There must be a logical explanation.
Brian drove home the point. ‘When I learned about the old war wounds, I explored that particular aspect to see if they were ever mentioned by the British. They weren’t. But it turns out that the Americans had their suspicions as early as the Nuremberg trial.
‘In what way?’ asked Craig.
‘Hess was examined by an American psychiatrist at Nuremberg to determine whether he was fit to stand trial. The doctor was approached beforehand by none other than Allen W Dulles, the head of the CIA, who swore him to secrecy before revealing that he had reason to believe that the man he was due to examine was an imposter. Dulles asked him to look for scar tissue above Hess’s left lung which would prove his identity.’
‘Well that would have settled it once and for all,’ said Craig.
‘You’d have thought so wouldn’t you?’
‘What did the doctor find?’
‘He wasn’t allowed to check. Hess was handcuffed to a British Military Police sergeant who refused to take off the handcuffs to allow Hess to undress, or even unbutton his shirt.’
‘But surely they would have been able to examine him afterwards, and countless times since?’
‘Of course, but by then, what would have been the point in revealing the deception? In fact, you could argue that the fact that the man was an imposter could have been used as leverage over the British.’
‘Leverage for what?’ asked Fiona.
‘You name it,’ said Brian.
A look of realisation swept over Fiona’s face.
‘Greenham Common, for example,’ said Fiona. She had been following news of the women’s peace camp since it had been set up in protest at the US deployment of nuclear cruise missiles at the Berkshire base.
‘Special relationship right enough,’ said Craig sardonically.
Chapter 40
Craig’s head was pounding. He had travelled to Thurso in the hope… no, in the belief that finally meeting Brian Irving would provide him with answers. Instead of that, he had provided even more questions. The “huff” that Fiona accused Craig of was simply his way of gaining a modicum of space to think. He was no closer to finding a solution to the urgent problem of how to untangle the mess he was in. He felt the same churning fear clutch at his stomach once again and he had to swallow hard to stop it from enveloping him completely.
He breathed in and released air slowly. He reminded himself that he was now in a stronger place than he was a few days ago. He had Fiona on board, and Lynn too. He’d caught up with Brian Irving. He still had hope that Clive Prior was only trying to do the right thing by bringing Commander Anson and his MI5/MI6 connections into play. At least he had a better idea of who he was up against, and that had to count for something. It looked as if old Professor Prior was involved right at the start of the Hess affair, thought Craig, and who knows, he might still have a role to play.
Craig looked at his watch. Where had the day gone? It was nearly four o’clock. They hadn’t eaten since breakfast and he was starving.
‘Why don’t we go for an early dinner, clear our heads, then work on our plan?’ he suggested to the other two.
‘Good idea. Why don’t we freshen up and you knock on my door in an hour?’ said Brian.
‘Sounds good,’ said Fiona. She stood up and Craig followed her as she made for the door.
‘See you in an hour.’
Craig unlocked their door and took off his jacket as he went into the room. He lay down on the bed and put his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.
Fiona sat on the other bed and looked at him.
‘Are you okay?’
He turned his head to look at her. ‘It’s a lot to take in.’