Against that Hauff found himself at a loss for any argument, so they shook hands and he went off to find Khurrem.
Until the end of the week Gregory had again to possess his soul in patience. By then he would have been exactly a month in Pomerania; he was still a very long way from getting into Peenemünde and he had not yet even been able to let his friends in London know that he and Kuporovitch had landed safely. But there was nothing he could do to hurry matters and he knew that they had really been very lucky in finding safe harbourage at Sassen and in being able to make use of one of the most influential Nazis in the district.
All the same, he found time hung heavily on his hands. Except for a few minutes now and then, when no-one was about, he could not talk to Kuporovitch as a friend; while Malacou, apart from going to his clinic twice a week, never emerged from his ruin. After the evening meal Gregory had Khurrem for company, but he could not succeed in drawing her out. In vain he tried to get her to talk about Turkey, her life in Berlin and Sassen before the war, books, pictures, politics; it was no use. Even to remarks about music, which she appeared to like, she replied only in monosyllables or with little display of interest, then put on another record or helped herself to another Branntwein.
Her heavy drinking did not noticeably affect her until about ten o’clock in the evening, when her speech tended to slur slightly and her fine grey eyes became dull. One night at about that hour, when she stood up to get herself a fifth brandy, Gregory said to her:
‘Khurrem, it is not for me to question your habits. But I’d like to speak to you as a friend about your drinking so much. Only a few years ago you must have been a lovely woman, and you’re still quite young. This constant soaking must be ruining your health and is destroying your looks. If only you’d stop it you could soon get them back. I know the loss of your husband was a great blow to you, but it’s all wrong that you should go on grieving for him for the rest of your life.’
She pulled heavily on her cigarette and looked at him with lacklustre eyes. ‘It is not only that. My life is a far from happy one and I am constantly tormented by my thoughts. Drinking enables me to forget them.’
After a moment’s hesitation he said, ‘Would you care to tell me what is worrying you? I might be able to help.’
The ends of her untidy red hair waggled as she shook her head. ‘No. It is kind of you to take an interest in me, but my troubles are something about which I cannot talk.’ Then she poured her drink and put on another record.
Sunday came at last and with it Sturmbahnführer Hauff. With him he brought the permit for Gregory to take a boat out into the creek. Khurrem asked him in for a drink and to Hauff’s obvious satisfaction it was agreed that Willi should take Gregory and Kuporovitch into Wolgast the following day.
In the evening Khurrem took both of them over to the ruin to say good-bye to her father. After they had reviewed the situation Malacou said to Gregory, ‘Tomorrow is not only a Monday, so the best day in the week for Mr. Kuporovitch and favourable to you both, but also the 28th, a 1; so your best day and favourable to him. Therefore, in combination, no two people could make a real beginning to their mission under more propitious influences. You have now only to beware of taking risks on days in the middle of a week that are governed by the 4 or 8 and you will undoubtedly be successful.’
Again by thought transference the doctor ordered the bald-headed hunchback, Tarik, to bring another bottle of fine hock and in it they all drank to the frustration and damnation of the Nazis. Then, before they left, Malacou returned their wireless to them.
That night, at long last, Gregory was able to go to bed with a real hope that he might soon succeed in penetrating the secrets of Peenemünde.
7
He had been Warned
On Monday, the 28th of June, Willi took the two friends in his lorry to Wolgast. By midday they were again settled in rooms at the pleasant little hotel. After lunch Gregory went to the Town Hall, showed his permit to fish from a boat and secured the address of a man who might hire one to him. The boat-master proved glad to see a customer. He said that for a long time past most of his boats had remained idle and were taken out only during weekends by senior officials from Peenemünde who had permission to hire them. Gregory selected a small launch with a cabin and paid a fortnight’s hire for it in advance.
That evening he and Kuporovitch went out in it, heading south-west down the creek until they entered a big bay almost enclosed by the narrow waist of the irregular island. There they opened up the wireless set. In the lining of his leather belt Gregory carried a strip of stiff paper giving the code they were to use. He worked out the message; but the Russian, being much more knowledgeable about such an apparatus, tuned in to London. The message sent was brief and, starting with their code number, ran: Both well first fence crossed but many obstructions to overcome will communicate when anything to report.
They knew it to be highly probable that one or more German stations would pick up their coded message; but unless the listeners had been very quick they would not have been able to get a fix. Even if they had, as they could not plot it within less than a mile the transmitter might be at a place on either shore. In any case Gregory did not intend to send other messages from the same neighbourhood, and one of his reasons for being so anxious to get hold of a boat had been that in it they would be able to transport the set to different places several miles from Wolgast, without having to carry it, each time they wanted to send a message.
While Kuporovitch turned the launch round and headed her back towards the narrows Gregory quickly set about concealing the set under the bottom boards in the prow, as he thought it safer to leave it concealed there than to keep it with him in the hotel. When they had covered half the distance back to Wolgast, Kuporovitch cut the engine, Gregory threw out the anchor and spent an hour fishing. His catch proved disappointing, but it provided him with a few medium-sized fish to show on his return.
During the course of the week they set cannily about their prospecting. Some days Gregory went fishing only in the afternoons, on others the long, light summer evenings were ample justification for his going out again after dinner. Sometimes Kuporovitch accompanied him, at others he went for long walks to explore the surrounding countryside and memorise possible temporary hideouts in case some calamity forced them to seek safety in flight. But the problem of landing undetected on Usedom appeared to be insoluble.
The curiously shaped thirty-mile-long island consisted of two parts joined only by a neck of land scarcely a mile wide. The northern part, near the tip of which Peenemünde stood, was the smaller, but along the whole of its length on the landward side lay the lighted defence zone. The southern and much bigger part, on which was situated Swinemünde, the island’s biggest town, had no defence zone, but Gregory soon discovered that it would be useless to land there because across the narrow neck joining the two parts there was a barrier at which anyone would obviously have to show a pass in order to be allowed through.
His hopes of making a landing on the seaward side of the island were also dashed, because, when he had attempted to pass out of the northern end of the creek he had been halted by a guard-boat, and told that his permit did not allow him to proceed out into the open sea. And even if in a single night he could have made the long voyage round the southern end of Usedom, as that was only divided from the mainland by an even narrower creek it was certain that another guard-boat there would turn him back.
The township of Peenemünde lay on the landward side of the island about two miles from the open sea and a good seven up the creek from Wolgast. When taking his first Sunday walk along the landward bank of the creek Gregory had not gone that far but had turned back after five miles, so it was not until he explored the whole length of the creek in his motor boat that he got a sight of the little town.
It had a small harbour, but little of the town itself could be seen, as the authorities had pulled down all the buildings on the water front and had built a twenty-foot-hig
h concrete wall which screened all but a jagged outline of roofs and the church tower. At the entrance to what must have been the main street, leading down to the harbour, there was a big iron gate in the wall and a guard house with a picket of soldiers. As Gregory had expected to find the place heavily protected he paid little attention to it, particularly as he felt certain that the rocket-launching sites would be three or four miles away, on the seaward side of the island.
However, opposite Peenemünde, on the mainland about half a mile from the creek, stood the village of Kröslin; so he landed at the jetty that served it, walked to the village and had a drink at the only inn. As he dared not risk appearing inquisitive, the only information he picked up was that over a year before all the civilian inhabitants had been evacuated from Peenemünde, and the buildings in it were now used only as barracks for the troops who patrolled the open zone along the bank.
During the trips on which Kuporovitch had accompanied him they had surreptitiously made soundings at low water, in order to verify the places shown on Malacou’s map at which the creek could be forded, although as long as they had the boat it did not seem likely that this information would prove of much use to them.
On the Tuesday they had seen several aircraft go up from the island and disappear to the northward over the open sea, and for some hours afterward they heard occasional explosions in the distance; so they knew that firing trials were being carried out. The same thing happened on the Thursday, but for all the information it brought them the trials might as well have been taking place on Salisbury Plain.
By Saturday evening Gregory had decided that there was no way in which he could get on to Usedom by water, so he told Kuporovitch that, as fewer people would be about on a Sunday, he meant next day to reconnoitre the marshalling yard. But the Russian shook his head.
‘No, dear friend; not tomorrow. Remember what Malacou told us. Although Sunday is your best day of the week, tomorrow is the 4th of July, so a bad day for you to start any new plan.’
Gregory gave him a quizzical look. ‘Do you honestly believe all that stuff? I can’t really credit it.’
‘Mortdieu! How can one not?’ Kuporovitch took him up. ‘Greatly as I dislike accepting guidance from a man in league with the Devil, you proved right about his being on our side; and I am sure that it is largely through following his advice that we have so far avoided running into trouble. Remember, too, that in the past I dabbled in the occult myself, so I have had some experience of the potency of the stars. I beg you to put off making any plan for smuggling yourself through to Peenemünde until Monday.’
Somewhat reluctantly, Gregory agreed and on the following day he was extremely glad that he had. As he came out on to the verandah of the hotel for a drink before lunch he saw Hauff and an officer of the Sicherheitsdienst seated at a table. Hauff beckoned him over, introduced the S.D. man as Oberführer Langbahn and said:
‘Herr Major, I had hoped to see you here. Sit down and have a drink. How goes the fishing?’
‘Danke Ihnen,’ Gregory replied with a smile. ‘I’m doing very nicely and as I give all I catch to the landlady she’s looking after me very well. Although I expect I owe that partly to my first lunch here being with you.’
‘Good. I should like to return today that lunch you stood me, and we will have some of your fish. Feeling pretty sure I’d find you here, I booked the table in the window recess so that we can discuss our business without any risk of being overheard.’
Greatly intrigued, Gregory had a drink with them, then they went in to lunch. When they had ordered, Hauff said, ‘It’s about that batman of yours. What is his native language?’
‘He is a Ruthenian. They come of the same stock as Ukrainians and speak a form of Russian.’
‘Enough to understand ordinary Russian?’
‘Oh yes. Sabinov is a quite well-educated man and a diehard anti-Communist, but he could easily pass as a Russian if he wanted to.’
‘Do you consider him trustworthy?’
‘Certainly. As the Ruthenians were a minority and oppressed by the Czechs, he hates their guts and joined up as a volunteer soon after we went into Czechoslovakia.’
‘Could you do without him for a while?’
‘I could if I had to,’ Gregory hedged. ‘Of course, he’s had a pretty idle time lately, just polishing my boots and buttons and helping me with my boat. But I’m not at all anxious to part with him.’
‘We’d fix it for someone in the hotel to do the polishing for you,’ Hauff said quickly, ‘and surely you could manage your boat on your own?’
‘Yes, at times I go out without him. But I’ve had him with me for over a year. He’s a good fellow and greatly attached to me. Still, what do you want to borrow him for?’
Hauff’s senior, who ranked as a Brigadier, leant forward and said in a low voice, ‘I will take on from here. My job, Herr Major, is Chief Security Officer at Peenemünde. It’s no secret that the Todt Organisation has many hundreds of Russian prisoners of war working there. Naturally, as they are kept on a very low diet they are lethargic and ordinarily my men don’t have much trouble with them. But recently there have been certain indications that the prisoners in Camp C are plotting a mass break-out.’
The Oberführer took a drink of wine and went on, ‘What these miserable creatures hope to gain by that, heaven knows. They couldn’t possibly get away and we’d shoot them down like rabbits. But I don’t want a number of my men to be taken by surprise and murdered, or to have to eliminate a valuable labour force; so I’m trying to find out who the ringleaders are; then I’d be able to have them shot and nip this business in the bud. I’ve got a few stool-pigeons working with the prisoners, but I’m anxious to put more of them on the job and it’s devilish hard to find Germans who speak Russian well enough to pass as Russians. Hauff, here, happened to recall that you had a Ruthenian servant, and since you tell us he is a reliable man I want you to lend him to us for this work.’
Gregory had difficulty in concealing his elation at being presented with such a God-given opportunity to get Kuporovitch right inside the Experimental Station, but he did not wish to appear too eager to co-operate, so he said:
‘To agree is obviously my duty, Herr Oberführer, and I do so willingly. But how Sabinov will take this proposal I can’t say. Obviously he’ll have to live and work among the prisoners and that’s a pretty tough assignment. Of course, I could order him to do as you wish. But that wouldn’t be much good if he is unwilling. Even for a short time such a life would amount to severe punishment; so from resentment he would probably keep his mouth shut about anything he did find out, just to spite you.’
‘He would be well rewarded,’ put in Hauff.
‘Ja, ja!’ added the Oberführer. ‘I agree that such a task calls for sacrifice and fortitude; but he will be well paid for it, and if he is successful I’ll see to it that he gets an Iron Cross, 4th Class.’
‘Very well,’ Gregory nodded, ‘I’ll put it to him.’
‘When could you give me his answer?’
‘I’ll speak to him after lunch, but I think we ought to give him an hour or two to think it over.’
‘That’s reasonable. All right, then. I’ll return here about six o’clock, and over a drink together you can tell me his reaction.’
For the rest of the meal they talked about the war and Gregory related some of his mythical experiences in Norway. Then, as soon as the two Nazis had left, he found Kuporovitch and took him into the garden at the back of the hotel. Having told him about Langbahn’s proposal, he said:
‘This is a marvellous break for us if you’re willing to play, Stefan. But there’s no getting away from the fact that it would mean hell on earth for you as long as you remain in that camp. The ordinary guards won’t be told that you are a stool-pigeon, so you’ll be treated just like the other prisoners. It’s certain that you’ll be starved and beaten, and if your fellow prisoners rumble you they might quite possibly do you in. So I’ll think no worse of you if y
ou regard it as asking too much, and somehow I’ll get myself smuggled in on a train.’
‘Ventre du Pape! You’ll do nothing of the kind,’ the Russian replied stoutly. ‘If you did you would like as not get caught and anyway that wouldn’t give you half as good a chance as this will give me of finding out what’s going on there. I’m quite tough enough to take care of myself; and to bitch Hitler’s last chance of winning the war I’d willingly spend a year down a coal mine on bread and water.’
‘Good for you, Stefan,’ Gregory smiled. ‘I felt sure that would be your answer, but I hate the thought of your having to go through the mill like this while I’m just idling around fishing.’
‘Don’t give that a thought, dear friend. But this means we shall be separated, and I will not be able to take the wireless in with me. If I do get on to anything really worth while how the devil am I to let you know about it?’
Kuporovitch’s question presented a very difficult problem, but after having discussed it for some ten minutes they agreed on a line for Gregory to take when he saw the Oberführer again that evening.
Langbahn arrived soon after six, and when they had ordered drinks Gregory said, ‘Sabinov is willing to play, if you’ll agree to certain conditions. He says that earlier in the war he spent some time as a guard in a Russian prisoner-of-war cage and that half of them died from starvation. I told him that the labour gangs at Peenemünde wouldn’t be as ill-fed as all that, but he insists that he should be allowed out one day a week to eat his head off. Rations being what they are, two or three ordinary meals wouldn’t be much good; but no doubt if you had a word with the landlady here she’d fix things so that he could stuff himself to the eyebrows. He realises, too, that he’ll be letting himself in for a very tough time, so he wants to set himself up each week by a day of real relaxation. There is nothing he enjoys more than going out with me when I’m fishing, so if you’re prepared to let him come back to me on Sundays, and arrange for him to have a real blow-out, he’s all yours for the rest of the week.’
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