by Per Wahlöö
Colonel Orbal: You’re being damned officious, Kampenmann. Oh, well, go on talking now, Velder.
Major von Peters: God, that one should have to endure this, sitting here hour after hour, listening to this swine.
Colonel Pigafetta: What’s wrong now, Captain Endicott.
Colonel Orbal: What? What’s the matter with the man?
Captain Endicott: He seems to have lost the thread, sir.
Major von Peters: Thank God for that.
Captain Endicott: One moment. I have some injection ampules here which Doctor Mogensen gave me for just this kind of situation. Give me a hand, will you, Brown. In the thigh, he said. That’s it.
Colonel Orbal: Do we have to sit here staring at all this? Damned unpleasant. Disgusting.
Colonel Pigafetta: Not very aesthetic, I must say.
Colonel Orbal: They’ve stuck it in the wrong place, of course.
Colonel Pigafetta: My officers are usually capable of carrying out their tasks.
Major von Peters: They’re experts at opening their parachutes, anyhow.
Lieutenant Brown: He’s coming round now, I think.
Velder: On the thirty-fifth day, the communication system between the different defence units began to collapse. We couldn’t reach the bunker system in the west and south-west any longer. The whole of the surface of the ground was burning.
Captain Endicott: One moment, Velder. You must go back in time. See if you can.
Major von Peters: He talks like a children’s nurse. Is he supposed to be an officer?
Colonel Pigafetta: Yes.
Captain Schmidt: You said you had a feeling that the General had never liked Danica Rodriguez very much.
Velder: He said nothing to Dana, didn’t reply, but just glared at her. At seven minutes past eight, the first result came in on the teleprinter. It came from one of the smallest districts, near Marbella. Three people there had voted yes and eleven no. At thirteen minutes past eight, the next one came, from the same area. Three had voted yes and six no. Dana and I—that’s Danica Rodriguez, Edner’s secretary—did the counting. We took it in turns to pull the telex strips off the machine and write the figures up on a large blackboard, where we totted them up. Twenty minutes later, another small district result came in. There the figures were seven-seven. Janos Edner had sat around yawning for a while and at half-past eight he said he was ready to go up to bed. He said to Aranca that she could wake him up if anything interesting happened, or when the count was complete. I remember that Tadeusz Haller stared at him as if he didn’t believe his ears. Shortly before nine, the first Oswaldsburg town district result came in, and there the figures were ninety-six yes and four no. A few minutes later, another one came and the figures were eighty-two yes and seventeen no. That was the fifth district in Ludolfsport, and I remember it especially because it turned out to be an almost exact average figure. Haller was noticeably nervous now, but Oswald took it all quite calmly. Then the figures began to pour in at great speed and all of them showed roughly the same tendency. At about ten, Aranca said she’d go and get some beer and sandwiches, and the General—I remember this especially—went with her to help. When they came down, the figures were seventy-three thousand four hundred and two yes against fifteen thousand six hundred and sixty-three no. Everyone had some beer and sandwiches then and we let the teleprinter look after itself, collecting up paper in a heap below. The General and Aranca Peterson and Danica Rodriguez were just as usual, but Tadeusz Haller was very nervous. He didn’t want anything to eat and spilt his beer. Soon after eleven …
Major von Peters: Are you going to tolerate this, Mr Haller?
Tadeusz Haller: I suppose so.
Captain Schmidt: Soon after eleven …
Velder: Soon after eleven, the count was complete, percentages and all. One hundred and forty-two thousand one hundred and twenty-two had voted yes, and thirty-one thousand seven hundred and six no. That meant, Dana and I calculated, that only seventeen per cent of all the people who could vote had done so. And of those who had, eighty per cent had voted yes and eighteen per cent no.
Colonel Orbal: Damned difficult to hear what the man’s saying.
Captain Endicott: With permission from the court, I should like to request a pause in the interrogation to allow the accused to rest his vocal chords.
Major von Peters: Interrogation—huh.
Colonel Pigafetta: Yes, Endicott. Granted.
Colonel Orbal: What’s going on? I ought to have said that, Pigafetta.
Colonel Pigafetta: Yes, you ought.
Commander Kampenmann: Are those figures correct?
Tadeusz Haller: Yes, as far as I remember. With cunning propaganda, they’d managed to persuade over eighty per cent of the population to abstain from exercising their rights as citizens. And the others … well, you’ve got the exact figures in your papers, haven’t you, Captain Schmidt?
Captain Schmidt: One moment. Yes, here they are. Of all those entitled to vote, eighty-two point four per cent abstained. Fourteen point one voted yes and three per cent voted no.
Tadeusz Haller: So it wasn’t a vote at all, quite simply. Apathy was so great that most people didn’t even bother to vote in the referendum.
Commander Kampenmann: There is one point in the accused’s statement that I didn’t really understand. Why were large numbers of the militia not allowed to partake in this referendum?
Tadeusz Haller: That was a well-considered measure taken by General Oswald. The strength of the militia had been tripled in a very short time. Naturally I was informed on this point, but otherwise very few people knew about it. The General was the only person who had full control over the immigration frequency.
Major von Peters: You’re talking about the Army, Mr Haller. By this time, the militia had ceased to exist. Otherwise, you’re right, of course. The troops were ordered to stay in their barracks or training areas, and their numbers were held secret. It was a kind of precaution against a coup, should anything happen, a surprise attack, for instance, from outside or from within.
Tadeusz Haller: Exactly. And if the new troops had taken part in the referendum, they would have to have had ballot papers, to have been included on the electoral rolls, and also the soldiers would have had to leave their camps to go to the polling booths. So the whole arrangement would have been disclosed.
Major von Peters: Yes. Briefly, it was a military safety precaution.
Colonel Orbal: What in heaven’s name is Endicott up to now?
Major von Peters: He’s busy with his protégé, can’t you see? He’ll start singing him a lullaby soon.
Captain Endicott: I think we can go on now, sir.
Major von Peters: One doesn’t think in the forces. Even your men ought to have learnt that, Pigafetta.
Captain Schmidt: I would like to take this opportunity to point out that Velder—according to a scientifically based opinion given to me by Gerthoffer—is now speaking more or less directly from memory, without being able to make any later thought-constructions or manipulated valuations.
Commander Kampenmann: How do you know that this opinion is scientifically based?
Major von Peters: For God’s sake, Kampenmann.
Colonel Orbal: Yes, yes. Go on, now, so that we get somewhere sometime.
Captain Schmidt: Please go on, Velder.
Major von Peters: He’s not that polite even to us. If only we had Bratianu here still, for God’s sake.
Colonel Orbal: What are you whispering about, Carl?
Major von Peters: I said we ought to have Bratianu here.
Colonel Orbal: Yes, I’ll say …
Captain Schmidt: If the presidium permits …
Colonel Orbal: Yes, what are you dithering on about, Schmidt? And Endicott, standing there fiddling about with that wretch as if he had a tart in bed with him. Get going, now.
Velder: Then Janos Edner came down. Aranca had been up to wake him, I suppose. He looked at the figures and then began to swear. His reaction wa
s very surprising. When Aranca said that everything had gone much as they’d expected, he replied that he hadn’t expected to find that there were over thirty thousand people on the island who were so crazy that they sympathized with Oswald and his twisted ideas. And—he said—the other figure was nothing to get excited about either. It just showed that on our island—he emphasised the our—there were a hundred and forty thousand individuals who let themselves be duped into partaking in a meaningless referendum. Aranca gradually calmed him down and then everyone talked for about quarter of an hour, except Haller, who had already gone. Danica Rodriguez asked the General what he considered he had demonstrated with all this nonsense. The General answered absently: ‘Nothing, my dear, nothing …’ Then he yawned and said goodnight to the others. ‘See you tomorrow,’ he said, too. I went out with him and we went to a small apartment which he had a few blocks away. It was a lovely, warm evening and the whole town was calm and quiet. I think the results of the referendum were being broadcast over the radio and television, but no one seemed to bother about them. When we got up to the apartment, Oswald got two beers out of the refrigerator. Then he got out his portable typewriter and typed out something from a handwritten note he’d had in his pocket. I’d seen him making notes on that piece of paper earlier in the evening. He drank his beer as he worked. Then he rang headquarters and sent for a jeep to come and fetch him. He folded up the paper he’d written on, put it in an envelope together with another piece of paper and stuck it up. Then he wrote on the front that it should only be opened on an order which had a code-signal …
Major von Peters: Night exercise.
Velder: A code-signal that was the same as for the other sealed order I’d been given. We stood there drinking our beer and Oswald was absolutely dead calm. He said he didn’t need me any more for the moment, as he was thinking of going to headquarters and staying there overnight, but that I should take the new instruction, with the old one, and go to a place called Checkpoint C—that was a military post east of the town, usually unmanned—and take command over the men there and stay until I was given further orders. As he said that, he began to take off his suit and change into uniform, a brand new one, by the way, which I’d never seen before. When he’d put on the cap, he clamped his dentures in and stood for a moment—probably only a few seconds—looking straight ahead. As if to himself, he said—he’d often done that together with me during the past year, talked to himself, I mean. ‘I’ve waited for this moment for years,’ he said. Then he seemed to wake up and said to me: ‘See you tomorrow. I rely on you to follow these instructions if anything happens. And you should think again about that business of becoming an officer. The offer is still open.’ We shook hands and parted outside the building. I went to the place where we’d parked the jeep, down in one of the car tunnels, and it was still warm and a little damp in the air. The town was quite empty and silent now and there was hardly a light to be seen in any of the windows. When I got to that post, Checkpoint C as it was called, there were thirty men there all ready for action. They had two large trucks full of materials, troop transports, automatic weapons and two walkie-talkies. I didn’t know a single one of them. They belonged to some recently set up force. I got there at five minutes past one and at exactly half-past one, the ’phone rang in the office. It was headquarters and I gave the code-word ‘Night exercise’, which the major here said quite correctly. I took out the two envelopes and opened them. One was an action-order, which was to be carried out immediately, and the other was a message I was to pass on as soon as the measures in the action-order had been taken.
Captain Schmidt: You can stop there, Velder.
Colonel Orbal: Good. He sounds like a gramophone record from the turn of the century.
Captain Schmidt: The contents and wording of both documents named by the accused are extremely important. A copy of the action-order has been kept in the Army archives and the message written personally by the General has also been retrieved. Both are included in the Appendices of the preliminary investigation marked V V/17xx and V V/17xxx. I request that the officer presenting the case should read them both.
Major von Peters: Without all those formalities, may I suggest.
Lieutenant Brown: Appendix V V/17xx. Secret action-order, reference Operation Night Exercise, sent 5th December. Concerning Corporal Velder and his subordinates. Marked Secret according … sorry … the text is as follows:
At Checkpoint C troops collected shall at 0200 hours on 13th December proceed to point on north road between Oswaldsburg and Ludolfsport three hundred yards east crossroads by inn in square forty-seven. Two road barriers to be constructed fifty yards apart, the western facing Oswaldsburg, the eastern facing Ludolfsport. Apart from blockade materials already issued, it is appropriate that vehicles form part of the barriers, which must be a hundred per cent efficient. The barriers shall be of a depth of at least fifty yards north and south of the road. Only military personnel with passes of enclosed type may go through. Every effort to force or circumnavigate the barriers is to be met with decisive and effective action. The road barriers are to be held until further instructions are given. Radio silence until 0230 hours.
Colonel Orbal: Yes, we really were that short of men. Thirty men and a corporal, what?
Lieutenant Brown: Appendix V V/17xxx. Instruction and secret message from General Oswald, entrusted to Corporal Erwin Velder, 13th December, 0015 hours. The text is as follows:
… I should perhaps insert here that the first part is in the form of a letter from the General to Velder, the second part in the form of a proclamation. Velder—when you’ve carried out the measures in your action-order you must do the following. Put someone in command of the whole barricade area and a second-in-command for each separate barrier. The men you’ve got under your command are guaranteed trustworthy, so there’s no risk. Then take the jeep and go to Radio Headquarters in Oswaldsburg, which should then be in the hands of loyal troops. See that the text of the enclosed manuscript is broadcast over the radio, television and the entire loudspeaker network every half hour from half-past eight in the morning today onwards. As soon as you’re convinced that this will be done, return to the road barriers. I need hardly point out that I am relying on you. Signed. P.O.
Colonel Pigafetta: Highly informal, I must say.
Major von Peters: A forgery, of course.
Lieutenant Brown: General Oswald’s message to the nation runs as follows:
Citizens. The attempt via democratic and rational means to make the government of the country understand and act according to the serious and exposed situation the nation is in, has failed. By infamous underground propaganda and systematic election frauds, yesterday’s referendum became of such a character that it can be declared totally invalid. Supported by the Army and an overwhelming majority of right-thinking citizens, I have decided to accept the responsible task of Chief of State. Until a legal government can be appointed through public elections and according to democratic principles, I shall also undertake the position of head of the interim government. I see my task as one of leading the nation out of its present depraved and dangerous state. The Army has taken over the responsibility for the personal safety of the individual in our new national democratic state. In return, it is up to every citizen to follow carefully the instructions issued by the military authorities. Complete calm reigns over the whole country. Every attempt from the side of the traitors or from foreign powers to rob the nation of its newly won freedom will however be dealt with with all strength. Long live our new fatherland, founded on the triumvirate Religion—Morality—Dignity. Paul Oswald. General. Chief of State.
Colonel Orbal: Very forceful.
Captain Schmidt: The contents of both these documents show to what extent the General and the new State relied on Erwin Velder. Naturally it did not occur to the General that a man who had for years served in his immediate proximity and who had him to thank for everything, would turn out to be a simple deserter and a cold, calculating tra
itor. We shall now hear Velder’s own story of how he carried out his responsible task. Captain Endicott, has the accused grasped what has been said?
Captain Endicott: I think so.
Major von Peters: Think!
Captain Schmidt: Well, Velder, go on with your story. You’ve just opened your sealed orders and find yourself a responsible military officer at Checkpoint C.
Velder: Oh, yes. Of course I remember the text. I shut myself in the office at the guard-post and read through the different papers over and over again. In spite of everything that had happened, I hadn’t really believed that this could ever happen. I couldn’t believe, either, that people like Aranca Peterson or Janos Edner—despite their pacifist attitude—would just give in to this sort of change of régime. Not even Tadeusz Haller, although he’d taken the General’s side during the preparation for the referendum. I saw at once that I wouldn’t obey the instructions I’d received. What forbade me to do so, I don’t know, perhaps something which at that time I thought was my conscience, but which in fact was probably my general attitude.
Colonel Orbal: I don’t understand that.
Velder: My first thought was to go to headquarters at once and try to convince General Oswald of the absurdity of his actions. But on second thoughts, however, I saw that this wasn’t possible, mostly because of what I knew about the General and his gradual change of attitude. I also considered the possibility of large numbers of the militia, like myself, refusing to obey orders. After a few minutes, I realised that this, too, was unlikely. The new Army could in no way be compared with or considered equal to the militia such as it had been only six months earlier. And also by that time, I was one of the few remaining militiamen and had been in it since it first started. Through new recruiting, which I knew quite a lot about, at least two thirds of the men were now what could be more or less regarded as professional soldiers. I had no illusions about them. As far as the others were concerned, presumably the last six months’ strict discipline and hard training had been enough to change their attitude. I remember how time and time again I read through those papers lying in front of me in that bare office. The window had an ordinary fine mosquito net of steel wire. Outside it was as black as ink and quiet, but I heard the men moving about and rattling their arms in the guard-room. I should perhaps also say that I understood very well that although the task I’d been given was important, it was not the most important of all. There were two roads between Oswaldsburg and Ludolfsport, and of these two, the northern one was the oldest and least used. It must have been much more important to barricade the southern road, which was a large motorway with double four-lane roads, and also to advance directly into the towns to take over points like telecommunications centres and depôts. And naturally to stop armed counter-action and neutralise untrustworthy groups of people. And yet the barrier on the northern road was naturally a key position. It did not surprise me that the General had given me this task, though most people would have found it more natural if it had been entrusted to an officer. And yet I was a little surprised …