The Reich Device

by Richard D. Handy

  ‘So where is Daddy sending you this time?’

  Nash grinned. ‘Europe.’

  She smiled. ‘That sounds rather non-specific Major Nash.’

  ‘You know how it is… ’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ She edged up to him. Putting her arms around his waist, she removed the revolver. ‘You won’t be needing this for a few minutes, Major Nash.’

  He gently took the weapon from her hand, his eyes fixed on her blue-green orbs as he eased his arm backwards to slide the Browning onto the bench.

  He whispered as he backed up against the bench. ‘Why’s that Emily?’

  She kissed him.

  Nash welcomed the warmth of her body and the taste of her sweet breath; savouring the smell of her hair, he eventually broke the embrace. Breathing heavily, he leant his forehead against hers. He spoke softly. ‘Emily… you shouldn’t be here… I have work… ’

  She whispered. ‘Danny Nash, you never did know when to shut up.’ She smiled and kissed him more deeply than before.

  Nash put all thoughts of packing his kit aside as he lifted her into his arms.

  King and country could wait a few more hours.

  CHAPTER 25

  Photographs from Berlin

  Colonel Dornberger sat in his office at Kummersdorf. He had spent the morning going over some lift calculations for liquid rocket fuels. The team had done well to identify the right mixture of liquid oxygen, hydrogen peroxide, and the other ingredients to get a controlled burn of the rocket motors. It was a real step forward, and would enable a steady lift on a rocket; and, more importantly, predictable control over the flight speed.

  Dornberger revelled in the mathematics, lost in a world of numbers, probability theory, and calculus. The last remaining problem was to predict when the rocket would suddenly run out of fuel; and therefore where it would land. At such high speeds, a calculation error of only a minute would put the rocket miles off target.

  He was suddenly roused by a loud, urgent knock on the door and, to his surprise, the adjutant did not wait to be invited in, but hastened across the room to his desk and snapped to attention.

  ‘My Colonel, please forgive the intrusion! Admiral Dönitz has just come through the main gate! He will be here any second!’

  In many ways Dornberger and Dönitz were kindred spirits; both cared greatly for the men under their commands. Dönitz had pioneered submarine warfare in the Great War, and was now busy rebuilding the U-boat fleet. It was a great opportunity to embrace new technology, and in the course of his work Dönitz had met Dornberger on several occasions in Berlin.

  Colonel Dornberger stood up and checked the buttons on his tunic. He snapped to attention as Dönitz entered the room.

  ‘Welcome to Kummersdorf, Admiral,’ Dornberger saluted.

  ‘Thank you, but please let us dispense with formality. I bring urgent news from Berlin.’

  The adjutant took the Admiral’s coat and closed the door on his way out, leaving the men alone.

  Dornberger offered the Admiral a seat, and was so intrigued by the unexpected visit that he forgot to offer the Admiral some coffee or brandy. Dönitz went straight to business.

  ‘What do you make of these, Colonel?’ Dönitz dropped some photographs on the desk.

  Dornberger was dumbstruck.

  ‘Why Admiral, where did you get these pictures?’

  ‘One of Wehrmacht’s most trusted SS men obtained these photographs in Africa. They arrived by boat last night and were brought to SS headquarters. Herr Hitler is personally interested in this matter, and has asked me to report back.’ Dönitz was matter of fact as usual.

  ‘So, you want my opinion on the authenticity of these photographs?’

  ‘Photographic experts at the Technical University have already confirmed that the pictures are genuine, and have not been tampered with. My question is, what do the photographs show?’

  Dornberger nodded in understanding as he studied the photographs. He looked carefully at each one, placing them flat on the desk so that both men could lean over and scrutinise the images.

  ‘You see this here.’ Dornberger pointed. ‘This is a liquid oxygen cylinder, and over here… ’ Dornberger traced with his finger. ‘This is a manifold for moving liquid fuels.’

  ‘Could these be used for rockets?’ Dönitz gave a concerned look.

  ‘Yes! Yes!’ Dornberger struggled to contain his natural scientific curiosity. ‘See here… ’ Dornberger pointed at one of the other photographs. ‘This is the injector system and mixing chamber for rocket fuel. It looks almost exactly the same as our design.’

  ‘A security breach? Do you think someone has stolen the technical drawings or components from Kummersdorf?’

  ‘No, it’s not possible. There must be another explanation?’ Dornberger shook his head as he studied the pictures again. ‘The dress of the workers, the tea glasses in the background… ’ Dornberger paused, searching the Admiral’s face; he looked just as puzzled. Dornberger continued. ‘… This is Arabic, possibly the Middle East. Is there an operation in the Middle East that I don’t know about?’

  ‘No, no, you are in charge of our only rocket programme.’ Dönitz gave an assurance.

  ‘Then someone else is building rockets and, judging by the injector, they must be at least as advanced as ours, if not more so.’

  ‘Is there another way to copy the design of the injectors and fuel manifold?’ asked Dönitz.

  ‘Our work, at least on this component of the rocket system, is based on an American design. We got some drawings from the US Patent Office and developed things from there. It is possible that someone else has done the same.’

  ‘Then this someone would need vast resources? Rocket development is not cheap.’ Dönitz was stating the obvious, but wanted Dornberger’s thoughts on who might finance such an operation.

  ‘We have spent several million reichsmarks on our programme. There are very few with that kind of money. If the pictures were recovered in Africa, then perhaps it is a South African venture? Or a smokescreen? Perhaps it’s really the British or an American government-funded project? Apart from a few diamond traders in South Africa, and perhaps some rich Jewish bankers in the USA, few private organisations would have the financial resources, or the motivation, to fund such a project.’

  ‘But you are confirming that these are pictures of a rocket facility, or at least the components of a rocket?’ Admiral Dönitz wanted to give the Führer a technically accurate report.

  ‘These are definitely rocket components.’ Dornberger studied the pictures again. ‘I would also say that, from the size of the oxygen tank, this must be for more than one rocket. So yes, we must assume it is a rocket facility of some kind.’

  ‘What is the range on a rocket, could a facility in the Middle East threaten the German border?’ Dönitz, as ever, was thinking of the bigger strategic picture around the world and whether or not this new threat could be directed at Berlin; or indeed the naval fleets in the north.

  ‘It is hard to say. A few hundred miles, maybe five hundred. I don’t think a rocket fired in the Middle East would make it all the way to Germany.’

  ‘But it could threaten our oil interests in the Middle East?’ asked Dönitz.

  ‘Yes, definitely.’

  ‘So, this also means our naval fleet, our cruisers, could be vulnerable targets in the Mediterranean Sea?’

  ‘Yes, in theory… if the rocket had a good guidance system.’

  The two men sat in silence at this new revelation for a few moments. Dönitz cut in, ‘This could change military tactics and warfare in the Mediterranean. The Luftwaffe is getting most of its aviation fuel from the new oil fields in the Middle East. We must protect German oil exploration interests.’

  ‘I am fairly certain that both the Mediterranean and Middle East could be threatened.’

  ‘Thank you, Colonel. It’s always a pleasure.’ Dönitz stood up. ‘There is no time to delay. I must report back to the Führer at once.’
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  ‘Admiral, I am pleased to help. But… ’ Dornberger hesitated. ‘It is also vitally important that we know how advanced the opposition is. Our programme has much work to do yet.’ He didn’t want to tell the Admiral that the rockets were nowhere near ready for test flights.

  ‘I will recommend to the Führer that you should advise the High Command on all technical issues relating to this development. We will ensure you have all the facts as they emerge.’

  ‘Thank you Admiral… and Admiral… another thought; if there is a rocket base in the Middle East, it should be visible from the air.’

  ‘The Luftwaffe is already taking aerial photographs, but the Middle East covers a huge area. It will take some time to locate,’ explained Dönitz.

  ‘It must be near the coast. Liquid oxygen is shipped. It is rarely moved by road, and the heat of the desert will make the stuff evaporate quickly. Yes, look for a facility near the coast.’ Dornberger paused to allow the Admiral to reflect on the information. ‘… And one more thing; it may be partially buried underground to keep the oxygen cool. There may also be a supply of aluminium sheeting nearby; look for an aluminium works of some kind. It is needed to make components and the rocket casing.’

  Admiral Dönitz nodded his appreciation. ‘Thank you, that will greatly narrow down the search area. We will find it. I will let you know when we do.’

  With that, the two men shook hands firmly. Admiral Dönitz immediately took his car the few miles north, back into the city centre of Berlin. He could not keep the Führer waiting.

  CHAPTER 26

  Making Plans at Kummersdorf

  Dornberger sat at his desk. His eyes flicked between the telephone and Commandant Kessler. The telephone rang. Dornberger snapped up the receiver.

  ‘Yes, my Führer… ’ Beads of sweat formed on his brow. ‘It will be done my Führer… every effort will be made… ’ Dornberger stiffened and gave Kessler a worrying glance. ‘Yes, of course my Führer, we will double our efforts. I… ’

  A patriotic tirade blasted Dorberger’s ear.

  ‘Let me give you my assurance my Führer… yes… yes… I… of course… heil Hitler!’

  The phone suddenly went dead. Dornberger gulped as he replaced the receiver. He loosened the top button on his tunic, then took a deep breath and exhaled.

  ‘Well?’ Kessler leaned forward in his chair, studying Dorberger’s furrowed brow.

  ‘Herr Hitler is not pleased. He wants us to increase production, and the pace of the experimental work. From now on, we are to work both day and night. We will introduce a night shift starting from tomorrow.’ Dornberger rubbed his temple. ‘I guess it would be more efficient anyway… ’

  ‘What about the Arabs? Do they have a rocket programme or not?’

  ‘The Führer has made it clear. Politically and militarily, it is important for Germany to have absolute control over liquid-propelled rocket technology. There must not be any competition.’

  ‘It is unthinkable that the Arabs and Jews could achieve advances that we cannot.’ Kessler shook his head in disgust. ‘We will destroy this competitor. It is German policy you know – the Jews.’

  ‘I guess it doesn’t matter who the competitor is. The strategic purpose of the German rocket programme is to have a weapon that nobody else possesses. This would put Germany in a strong position on the international stage. The Führer is asking us to provide the ultimate deterrent.’

  ‘And if we don’t achieve this?’

  ‘Failure… ’ Dornberger shuddered. ‘… I’ve no intention of failing. Herr Hitler has given us unlimited resources; for now at least. We cannot fail. Besides, the Führer wants to declare to the world that Germany has the first fully functioning rocket. He wants to showcase German technology on the political stage.’

  ‘Is that wise? Only yesterday the need for the utmost secrecy was the priority.’

  ‘Yes, we should tread carefully, remain secretive. Politics is a fickle business; hopefully Admiral Dönitz will persuade the Führer to see sense. Still, our rocket motor should be a major scientific advance, albeit with military applications of course; but there will also be many civilian uses. We can even get one step closer to putting the first rocket in to space! Something to shout about… eventually… don’t you think?’

  ‘Please, Colonel, while I admire your enthusiasm for your scientific endeavours, we do need to move forward with a realistic plan.’

  ‘Yes of course, we will need more men and materials to make things work around the clock.’

  ‘That can be done.’ Kessler gave a shrug. ‘There are plenty of Poles and the like for manual labour; but finding more scientists… well that would seem to be a limiting factor.’

  ‘I agree, and we need to give the research teams some motivation, some significant scientific advances to work on… ’

  ‘There is Professor Mayer… ’ Kessler stared Dornberger in the eye. ‘He holds some advanced technological knowledge – I am sure of it. If there was ever a time we need this information, it is now.’

  ‘Alright, alright, I agree. We have no choice. The developments in the Middle East have added a new urgency that we cannot ignore.’

  Kessler beamed. ‘I will extract the Professor’s thoughts onto paper. It may take a day or so, but you will have it.’

  Dornberger slumped back in his chair. What choice did he have with both Admiral Dönitz and Hitler making demands on the rocket programme? The rather short chain of command from Kummersdorf to the Reich Chancellor didn’t help matters. He was in the spotlight now, and the price for failure would be a bullet in the head. He pursed his lips with a regrettable decision.

  ‘Find out everything that Professor Mayer knows, by all means at your disposal – and quickly.’

  Kessler snapped to attention, delighted with his new task. ‘Heil Hitler!’

  Nash shivered and pulled his collar up in an attempt to keep out the cold night air. Time spent on reconnaissance was never wasted. He adjusted his binoculars, bringing the repaired perimeter fence into focus. Kummersdorf was clearly going through some changes. He scanned the binoculars towards the main gate: more good news, the Germans had installed another fortified machine gun post. It would be much harder to get into the base this time.

  Suddenly, the binoculars picked up the perimeter patrol.

  Christ! Only five minutes since the last one!

  The Germans had doubled the patrols. Nash focused through the fence. Some new construction work came into view. One, two, three… four large mounds of soil, and only fifty feet from the perimeter fence. It would be useful cover. It also looked like the Germans were strengthening the earthworks around the main buildings. He zoomed in on the earthworks and some heavy machinery. A construction worker came into view.

  Interesting – regular army engineers – so, no civilian labourers are being allowed on site.

  That put pay to any ideas of sneaking in through the main gate.

  He shifted his attention to the living quarters; more new earthworks, but still under construction. The binoculars picked out the infirmary building through a gap. Not good news. A sentry and a new machine gun nest. All the ground-floor windows were sporting new iron grills. The building was evidently very secure; that could only mean one thing. Professor Mayer had to be inside.

  But could he do it? Could he kill a defenceless old man? A civilian as well. What exactly was it that the Professor knew? Whatever, it was clear that Whitehall now wanted him dead.

  Commandant Kessler had a spring in his step as he burst through the doors into the infirmary.

  ‘Good afternoon, Fräuline. How is the Professor today?’ Kessler strutted over to Mayer’s bed.

  The nurse gave a disapproving look. ‘Please, Commandant, this is a hospital. The patient is sleeping.’

  ‘No matter, wake him up.’ Kessler beamed.

  ‘But, sir… ’

  Kessler’s expression suddenly turned menacing. ‘I said, wake him up!’

  The nurse tried t
o gently rouse Mayer. Ignoring her efforts, Kessler roughly plonked himself on the bed. He gave Mayer’s leg a hard slap.

  ‘Wake up! Wake up!’ Mayer groaned as he opened his eyes to narrow swollen slits. ‘Good afternoon, Professor. Are you awake? Good! You have questions to answer!’ Kessler gave him a second slap on the leg. ‘I said, wake up!’ Another stinging blow was administered.

  Mayer groaned as his eyes opened. He tried to sit up using his good arm for purchase. He grimaced as a bolt of pain shot through his ribs. The nurse leaned over, stuffing pillows strategically to support his weight. Parched, unable to speak, Mayer put out a shaky hand. The nurse instantly responded with a glass of water – she knew the routine.

  A few sips of water, and a bout of coughing seemed to clear his throat. Soreness pulsated from his voice box. He rasped an almost inaudible word of thanks, then took another mouthful of water as the nurse raised the glass. With his vision phasing in and out of focus, his head pounding, and an erratic heartbeat pulsing in his chest, Mayer tried to focus his mind on the present. Voice or not, he didn’t want to irritate Kessler.

  The nurse slowly took the glass away from his lips, knowing the interrogation would begin. For Mayer she was his lifeline; trapped inside his broken body, she remained the only person who could decipher his badly distorted ramblings.

  ‘I will pick up where we left off. Let me see… ’ Kessler gave his usual theatrical pause. ‘We were talking about rocket fuel calculations; that was all very interesting. You do remember Professor?’

  Mayer gave a slight tilt of his head.

  ‘Good, good, and then you said something about Der Leibhaftige maschine… devil machine. Tell me, what did you mean by this?’ Kessler’s face hardened.

  Mayer stared blankly into the distance.

  Kessler smiled inwardly.

  So the prisoner is trying to ignore the interrogator! A classic sign of defiance; and definitely hiding something of importance.

  ‘Fräuline, a pencil and paper for the Professor, as quick as you can.’

  The nurse promptly returned with a notebook, wondering what the Commandant had in mind.