by Ron Smoak
The guys in the back of the truck decided to take another peek just as the trucks cleared the steel door and entered the garage. They moved from the darkness of the night into a brightly lit cavernous garage. Vogel pulled the canvas back so everyone could see. The guards riding on the rear of the truck had stepped off.
“Holy shit, look at this place. Can you believe this?” asked Mauer as he and the other two men peered out of the back of the truck, their eyes squinting at the brightness.
“Where the hell are we?” asked Vogel.
“I don’t know, but at least it’s nice and warm,” said Mauer.
A loud voice came over a loudspeaker. “Park in Section A, Bay 2.” The trooper on the lead truck motioned to the driver to move the truck over to the far end of the underground garage under the Section A sign painted on the far wall. The six trucks pulled over and parked in line. The soldiers and drivers jumped out and began milling around near the front of the first truck. Quickly twenty-five armed SS troopers surrounded them all.
“You are to stay here with the vehicles until further orders,” a young SS leutnant barked looking directly at Mauer and Kruger. The two along with the other men and drivers stood there amazed at their surroundings.
The garage was enormous. Easily three stories high, there were several catwalks surrounding and crisscrossing the upper levels. Every few feet there were heavily armed SS storm troopers watching everything going on in the garage. There were several other balconies overlooking the floor area with several other doors leading into other areas of the complex. The entire area was heated. Mauer looked around. This was one huge place! He had never seen anything like this anywhere. There were twenty-eight bays in seven sections denoted on the walls. Looking around, there were at least a hundred workers scurrying around and that did not count the troopers above.
“Do you believe this place?” asked Vogel with his head cocked up looking at the catwalks above.
“No, I do not,” answered Mauer sheepishly. “Are we underground?”
“We have to be,” whispered Vogel. “This place is too big to be above ground. The Allies would have bombed it for sure.” The noise of activity throughout the huge garage nearly drowned out their conversation.
After walking what seemed like nearly a kilometer through the complex, Reiniger, Rauch and Schneider stepped into another elevator and rode up several levels. When the door opened they stepped into the massive underground garage. Even with other work going on Rauch immediately spotted his truck caravan on the opposite side, far away from the other activity in the area.
“Gentlemen, this way, please,” directed Reiniger as they all walked together across the garage.
Schneider noticed a yellow double door opening near the parked trucks. Several heavy carts loaded with crates were being pushed by soldiers toward the trucks. The carts were steel with solid steel wheels. They were built to carry very heavy loads. As Rauch and the others walked up, they heard an SS leutnant barking out orders to the group of soldiers by the trucks.
“Each truck is to be loaded with eighteen crates each. Hurry up and get this loaded. There is no time to screw around. You have twenty minutes to get the loads ready for travel.”
Kruger, Mauer, Vogel and the last soldier each began grabbing at the wooden crates.
“Damn, these are heavy as hell!” cried Vogel as the little guy tried to single-handedly lift a crate. He barely moved it. None of the others could move one alone either. The officers and the guards stood silently watching the men. Both Rauch and Schneider, seeing the garage for the first time, were in awe of the facility, not only the areas they had been in but this huge underground hangar/garage.
They quickly found that it took two men at each end of the crates to move them and heft them into the back of the trucks. The wooden crates were painted feldgrau with black SS stamps and the Nazi eagle standing atop a swastika inside a wreath of oak leaves, the “Iron Eagle”. All were nailed securely shut.
“What the hell is in these things?” moaned Mauer.
“Silence!” the SS officer cried. “Load the trucks and keep quiet!”
Silently the men continued loading their truck. The same was happening with each of the other five trucks. Once loaded, the trucks were checked and double-checked by the officers. Their tally sheets were brought over to Reiniger.
“Everyone back into your trucks!” the order came from one of the SS officers. A large package of food was also loaded into each truck.
“Hey, now we are talking,” said Kruger. “It’s about time we got something to eat.”
The men began tearing into the food.
Reiniger turned to Rauch and Schneider.
“Gentlemen, I will get your official orders while the trucks are readied to pick you up,” said Reiniger, leading Rauch and Schneider back toward the elevator that they used before. “In the meantime, you can also get something to eat. Our officer’s dining room is on the way.”
Officer’s dining room? Rauch looked at Schneider, trying not to show his surprise, but it had to show through. Schneider smiled for the first time. Rauch joined him. Maybe this was not going to be so bad after all.
Reiniger took the men up two floors, down a long hall where they entered a large grand dining room. The two officers were amazed. This section of the underground complex with its full dining room looked like a royal chateau in France. Beautifully appointed, several officers had already seated themselves at two of the eight tables in the large room. Reiniger clearly took pleasure in leading Rauch and Schneider to the far table, seating them and hosting a very fine meal fit for a king.
“One of the advantages of serving the Führer is that the officers share some of the benefits. When he visits this facility, this is his private dining room,” Reiniger explained. “When he is not here, this is the officers’ dining room.”
Both Rauch and Schneider were clearly impressed. The room had a beautiful ornately designed ceiling with various versions of moldings and carvings. Fine carpets covered the floors. One in particular was a huge representation of the Nazi Party Flag. The walls were a burgundy hue that went perfectly with the dark mahogany wainscoting. The lighting fixtures were gold with elegant fine crystals. A large single crystal chandelier hung majestically in the center of the room. On one end were several beautiful pieces of artwork. One in particular was The Astronomer, painted by one of Hitler’s favorite artists, Johannes Vermeer. Originally owned by a Frenchman, the work was stolen by the Nazis and became one of the Führer’s most cherished paintings. On the other end was a massive portrait of Hitler himself. Rauch and Schneider were amazed at the opulence in this “bunker” as it had been called.
“Gentlemen, when you are finished with your meal, please report to the conference room just across the hall.” Reiniger turned and motioned to the service manager standing near the double doors at the end of the room.
“Thank you,” Schneider answered meekly. Rauch simply nodded in silence.
Almost immediately two serving staffers dressed in white entered the dining room and set several fine china dishes in front of each officer at the table. Within 30 seconds another waiter brought two large platters, one of carved roast beef and the other of various cooked vegetables, and placed them on the table. A platter of bread and fresh fruit soon followed. Two bottles of French Bordeaux also appeared, perfectly decanted.
“Sir, do you believe this?” a wide-eyed Schneider asked. “This is magnificent!”
Trying not to seem impressed, Rauch perused the table. “Schneider, what do you expect? This is the Führer’s dining room; nothing but the best!” Rauch smiled broadly acting as though this was regular fare at SS officers’ mess. Both officers filled their plates and began their meal. Neither had eaten this well in several months.
After nearly an hour, the officers finished their meals and prepared for the journey ahead. Schneider deftly stashed an apple and pear in his pocket for later. He had not seen fresh fruit in eight months. He was not about to pa
ss up such a fine chance. In fact, if he could, he would have taken the entire platter with him.
CHAPTER SIX
March 30, 1945
Bunker Conference Room; 4:00 a.m.
Back in the conference room the three men sat down. Their coats and gloves were still there. Reiniger left the room for a minute, returning with a leather pouch. Rauch immediately recognized the pouch. It looked similar to the one he initially received back at regimental headquarters. Reiniger opened the pouch and placed the orders on the table in front of him. After briefly looking them over, he stacked the pages neatly and returned the stack to the pouch. He calmly placed his hands on the table.
“Your orders are to transport this cargo in these trucks to the railhead at Ohrdruf. From there you will go to Rostock. You are to accompany this cargo with the full detachment of men you have here to be joined by a guard group in Ohrdruf. Once in Ohrdruf there will be a train waiting for you. Transfer the cargo to the train and further accompany the cargo to the destination denoted, Rostock. You will be contacted by the SS commander at the rail station in Rostock for the final destination. Gentlemen, do you have any questions?” asked Reiniger.
Rauch and Schneider looked at each other.
“Perfectly clear, sir,” replied Schneider. Reiniger handed the SS pouch to Schneider. He placed it on the table before him and nodded to Rauch.
“Good,” nodded Reiniger. “You leave immediately.” Reiniger stood to attention, “Heil Hitler!” snapping his right arm up in the Nazi salute.
“Heil Hitler!” answered Rauch and Schneider as they both bolted up to attention returning the salute.
With that, Rauch and Schneider picked up their belongings and the pouch. Reiniger turned and led the two men back through the checkpoints until they found themselves back at the mouth of the original bunker entrance. The loaded trucks had been brought around and were parked, running, just behind Rauch’s staff car. The two officers walked briskly to the car, Schneider opening the rear door for Rauch as he got in. A quick few steps around the car and Schneider was in the opposite door and they were away; back into the darkness and cold.
“My God, what have we gotten ourselves into?” asked Rauch quietly, not expecting an answer.
Schneider stared ahead. “Whatever it is, this is big, very big. Sir, can you believe that facility? And it was the Führer’s private facility? I just cannot believe we were privileged to be there. What an honor!”
Rauch looked out of the window. There was just a hint of light in the eastern sky. This fool Schneider has no idea of the significance of what we just witnessed. Rauch’s mind was speeding furiously. What exactly was that place? What was in those crates? Why was it so important? The questions just erupted from Rauch’s mind. But one thing was certain. At least this time they knew where they were going.
CHAPTER SEVEN
March 30, 1945
Railway Station, Ohrdruf, Germany; 7:00 a.m.
Dawn was breaking when the trail of trucks arrived at the Ohrdruf rail station. Rauch was amazed to see what looked to be hundreds of well-dressed SS guards in every direction. As the staff car pulled up to the station leading the six trucks, an SS captain stepped off of the platform and threw up his hands to stop the car. A veritable wave of SS troops surrounded the car and the trucks as they came to a halt next to the platform. Schneider opened the door and ran around to open Rauch’s door. Before he could get there, however, Rauch’s door was opened by the SS captain.
“Heil Hitler!” the SS captain saluted as Rauch exited. He returned the salute amazed at the sheer number of SS guards all around. He wondered about this secret cargo they carried. What was critical enough to have this many guards around? It must be either something extremely valuable or immensely important. He motioned to Schneider to get up on the station platform just as they saw the trucks being unloaded and the cargo going into several closed railcars with guards on top. Between each car was a flatbed car with two gun emplacements and dozens of guards. Maybe not knowing their cargo was in his best interest. That was it. What he did not know about he could not worry about. He motioned to the SS captain.
“Where are we to ride, Captain?” he asked.
“The officers will ride in the passenger car at the rear,” the SS captain answered as he waved his arm back to their right, past the station toward the end of the train. “Your guards are to ride in the cars with the cargo. They are not to leave the cargo cars for any reason.”
“Schneider, get our bags and join me in the railcar,” Rauch ordered as he rather pompously walked by the men loading the train. He noticed they were straining mightily with the large wooden crates being transferred to the railcars. Rauch stopped for a second, reading the labels on the crates. “Transport Parts” read the stencil on the crates. But he too noted the SS emblem, Nazi eagle and swastika emblazoned on each crate as well. Hmmm, he thought. Official Nazi markings on crates of transport parts; not likely, he thought. But that was none of his business. All he wanted was to get this silly charade over and get back to his headquarters.
Rauch yearned for this war to be over. What started as a grand and wonderful endeavor for the Fatherland was now a losing situation. Hitler was still in charge but clearly not in charge of his own mind. He had heard of many, many weird antics by Hitler and personally seen evidence of such when he visited Berlin just a few months earlier. Losses on all fronts were mounting. When the Americans got involved and began sweeping through Europe, Rauch knew the end was coming. He wanted this war to end so he could return to his small farm near Zweibrücken, near the French border. Rauch’s family had been in the area for generations. Maybe after the war he could go to the U.S. and join some of the family there; that is if he were allowed to leave.
“We are leaving, sir,” interjected Schneider, snapping Rauch back to reality. The two stepped quickly back to the passenger car and boarded just as the conductor began waving his lamp to signal it was clear to move the train. They settled in as the sun broke over the horizon. Rauch looked out the window, amazed that the mass of SS troops that were once milling around had now also boarded the train.
Again the sight of the official Nazi markings on the crates crossed his mind. What was in those crates that warranted this many crack SS troops to guard it? Why were the crates stored in the bunker? Why was that bunker there? The Nazis did not build such structures and guard them with SS troops for a non-specific reason. Was it really Hitler’s hiding place after the war? His mind struggled with the questions. Rauch imagined the amount of manpower that building such a structure required; and the cost.
Actually the bunker facility, known as S/III, was a very important but secret location for the German high command. Most of the locals had no idea the complex was even there. The facility was built about 300 kilometers southwest of Berlin in the Jonas Valley. The area known locally as Jonastal was a series of high, rocky cliffs overlooking the valley below. The main complex that Rauch and Schneider had visited was imbedded in a hill on the north side of the valley between Crawinkel and Arnstadt.
Construction of the hideaway was thought to have begun in early fall of 1944 using forced labor from the nearby Ohrdruf labor camp. As part of the giant Buchenwald concentration camp, the Ohrdruf camp supplied nearly 18,000 laborers each day to work on the system of twenty-five tunnels, some over a mile and a half long.
The underground facilities were primarily built as emergency headquarters for Hitler and his high command if they had to retreat from Berlin. Additionally some of Germany’s best and brightest scientists were brought there to do their research.
Construction debris from the facilities was meticulously removed from the site and spread widely across areas far from the complex to hide its location. To further ensure security, most of the concentration camp workers were later exterminated at Buchenwald. The Germans liked their secrets kept and did not care who perished to keep them secret.
The bunker facility was designed to be a stronghold from the very beginning.
Security was paramount since it would house the Führer. Huge reinforced concrete walls and massive steel blast doors were the norm. Although simple and utilitarian for the most part, there were several areas built with such elegance that one would think you were in one of the finest hotels in Paris. Lush carpets, mahogany paneling and priceless works of art were the accoutrements of the elegant areas. It was essentially an underground city with barracks, dining halls, kitchens, work and storage rooms and laboratories. There were also recreation areas, theaters and massive garages. The entire complex was centrally heated and air-conditioned and had a modern sewage system.
Since the site was so secure, many of the stolen artifacts and art works pilfered from all across Europe were also stored here.
After the war, the complex fell under the control of the Soviets and became part of East Germany. Most of the information regarding the area is still held as a state secret by the Russian government. Today most of the complex has been dynamited, sealing the underground spaces forever. The exact purpose of most of the complex was never known, at least to the Allies.
CHAPTER EIGHT
April 4, 1945
Outside Rostock, Germany; 6:45 a.m.
The entire trip took several days. They crossed the heart of Germany. What once was a beautiful countryside showed the strain of five years of war. Each stop was quick, but military convoys and troop movements were the one constant in each town or city through which they passed.
Reroutes were inevitable. Allied bombings wreaked havoc on the German rail system. Tracks open one day were completely destroyed the next. It took nearly a week for a normal two day trip.