The drive back to the excavation site was both rapid and noisy in the car. All three of them talked almost constantly, either to each other or down numerous phone connections, sometimes simultaneously. The excitement was palpable, they’d even rather forgotten that the main purpose of the excavation was to recover a cache of gold bars, should they be there?
Arriving back at the site they could see that the soldiers had started early. They’d rigged up the mini digger with a flat platform attached to forks on the front instead of the bucket and one man was standing on this some 2 metres up in the air rapidly removing rocks from the top of the pile at the front. The yellow chute had now gone and the rest of the soldiers were down by the lay-by being briefed by the sergeant. Rather worryingly they had all swapped their various excavation tools for rifles and in one instance, a particularly large belt-fed machine gun slung across his shoulder. Tom tried to ignore the obvious inference of the preparations being made and concentrated on the dwindling pile of rocks. Donning gloves both Tom and Heinrich started moving the rocks that were dropped from the front of the pile to the impressive heap on the other side of the opening. Less than an hour had passed when the sergeant strode up the track and informed them that additional troops would be with them very soon and they could then release soldiers to help with the excavation. Tom couldn’t help himself wincing at the cavalier way the rocks were being thrown around, he kept thinking of the potential value of the buried Mercedes they were unearthing and illogically worried about it being damaged. Within an hour, whilst Tom was taking a break, one soldier let out a shout. Rushing over to the dwindling wall of loose rocks Tom could see the reason. The last rock the soldier had removed uncovered a small expanse of curved black metal, rather dented and scratched and with paint peeling from the area with the worst surface rust. Tom started carefully removing further rocks from around the exposed area until the swooping graceful lines of the car’s rear, with its recessed spare wheel, could be clearly seen. This galvanised the whole team and the pile of removed rocks grew rapidly. The soldier on the platform moved forward to the edge of the timbers and started from that end whilst a human chain moved the larger rocks away from the excavation. After less than an hour of toil almost the entire rear of the car had been exposed. The panel-work was battered and dented from its burial and particularly where the rocks had broken through the paint there were large patches of flaking rust. The casting of the beautifully crafted rear offside light unit had been broken and the top half was hanging down forlornly held on merely by its wiring. The spare wheel was inset into a well in the rear deck and where water had obviously accumulated, the metal had rusted right through so that you could see the wheel underneath. One of the small corner rear bumper pieces was completely missing and they could now plainly see the row of bullet holes stitched diagonally across the rear of the car with one hole in the rear wing which miraculously seemed to have missed the tyre. Now all that remained was to get all the rocks from either side removed to gain access to the timber shelter. Claire had been standing back taking pictures and occasional video for posterity but now moved up to join Tom who was standing directly behind the partially exposed rear of the Mercedes.
“You’d better be ready with the camera.” Tom said staring at the rear deck.
Claire started the video with Heinrich and the soldiers standing behind in a rough circle, all eager to see what the fruits of their labours would reveal when the car was opened.
Tom grasped the handle at the top of the deck and pulled the dicky seat cover backwards. There was a rending squeal of tortured metal as the battered and misshapen hatch cover finally parted company with the rear deck bodywork and swung open. Tom leaned over the back as far as he could and peered into the void now created but couldn’t see anything, he needed to get closer.
“We need to shift the rocks from one side so that I can get a proper look.”
They all set about clearing the rocks from the left side and moving them away, even Claire put the camera down to help. Another forty minutes and Tom, now at the head of the excavation team suddenly announced he’d broken through. Claire passed him the torch, and he knelt down and wriggled through the gap he’d opened alongside the car. Extricating himself from the rockpile inside the shelter he cast the beam of the torch around and gasped. He was inside and looking at a rusty, but apparently almost intact enormous Mercedes motor car. The three-pointed star stood proud above the radiator and the huge, flowing wings ran from in front of the radiator swooping down to running boards along the side. The shelter had kept its integrity and had provided safe garaging for over 70 years. Only the extreme rear part of the car had not had the benefit of a supporting structure and had thus suffered from the crushing weight of the rocks piled upon it. Tom squirmed forward until he was level with the driver’s door, shone his torch in and rested his hand on the back of the dusty seat feeling the unyielding dry and dusty leather. The interior appeared intact and he could just see the various needles of the instruments under the years of granite dust that had accumulated. Jammed behind the passenger seat he saw a pipe protruding, leaning over he just gripped the end, it was loose. He slowly wriggled the MP40 ‘Schmeisser’ machine pistol free from its hiding place which dragged with it a dusty and dry black peaked cap adorned with the Nazi Swastika and eagle emblem with the ‘death’s head’ badge below. He carefully propped the ‘Schmeisser’ alongside the ancient snow shovel leaning against the side of the structure and planted the cap on the top. Returning to the rear of the car and by standing on the rear of the running board which emitted a worrying creak when he applied his weight, he could now see into the dicky seat cavity. The seat back was completely missing and Tom could see a tattered remnant of the timber and seat padding still attached to the mounting where it had obviously been hastily ripped out. The seat base was also presumably missing although Tom couldn’t actually see where it would be as the whole cavity appeared to be full of neatly stacked wooden boxes each with a black stencilled Nazi eagle and swastika symbol emblazoned on the top. Tom carefully removed a single box and joined the expectant group still standing outside. A crowbar was produced from somewhere and handed to Heinrich who very gently prised the lid from the box and stared at the contents, the whole group moving forward in unison to get a better look. There was a brief moment of astonished silence.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The Watchers
Valentin peered through the binoculars at the group all standing around the small box that had been removed from the car. He had been watching progress at the site since early that morning. As he dialled his employer to give him a progress report, he saw the second truck arrive and disgorge another dozen or so soldiers. Was this a shift change? He held off dialling the last digit until he could establish exactly what was going on. As he watched the new troops being briefed it was obvious that the existing lot weren’t going anywhere. There were now over 20 armed soldiers at the site which absolutely precluded the chance of his small team making any kind of armed assault, they could never overcome such odds. He continued to watch for several minutes and saw them carry the wooden box out of the excavation. Even from this range he could see that it carried a Nazi party emblem. It was being carried by one of the soldiers to the recently arrived truck where he carefully placed it in the rear and climbed into the back of the truck to remain with it. Seconds later another colleague carrying a rifle joined him to guard it.
The group at the actual excavation site had now returned to their work and Valentin could see the old car slowly being unearthed until several of the team disappeared into the cave, or whatever it was, that the car was sitting in. He watched them trying to manhandle the car out with apparently no success, obviously it was seized solid. He continued to watch as they apparently give up this futile exercise and formed a human chain instead with that man Stroud at the head removing more boxes from the rear of the car. They passed the boxes down the line until the last man, the civilian from the factory, piled them up whilst the
woman photographed them. He counted 21 boxes in total by the time the last had been piled up and the human chain dispersed. He made the call.
What had greeted them all when the lid of the box popped off reduced them all to a stunned silence. There, in a neat row, were 5 shiny bars all marked similarly to the ones they’d found in the wrecked truck, ‘1 KILO FEINGOLD 999’. Heinrich lifted one of the bars out to reveal another identical row beneath.
“Phew, that’s 10 kilos per box which by my reckoning is about £320,000 worth.” Tom said.
There was a long pause before anybody said anything else. Heinrich broke the spell.
“We have to get that car out of there, empty it and get the gold transported away to a secure facility.”
They set about the remains of the rocks with renewed gusto whilst two of the soldiers replaced the box’s lid and marched off down the track with it to the truck under the sergeant’s watchful gaze.
Little by little the whole car was unburied until they could walk down both sides of it right to the very front. Tom reached in and managed to move the gear-lever into neutral and release the handbrake under the beautifully machine-turned instrument panel. All the tyres were totally flat and completely perished but the spoked wheels appeared to still be intact.
“Can I have a few people in here please, let’s see if we can push the car out.” Tom shouted.
With six strong men the car absolutely refused to move although Tom thought he could discern some movement in one of the front wheels.
“OK, forget it, we’ll just have to unload it where it is.”
The soldiers established a line from Tom standing by the dicky seat to the clear area of the track where Heinrich and Claire took up station. Tom heaved the next box out of the dicky seat and passed it down the line, rapidly followed by another and then another. They kept this up for several minutes which necessitated Tom actually climbing into the increasingly deep void to pick up the last of the boxes.
“That’s it! How many boxes have we got?” He shouted to Heinrich.
“21 including the one in the truck.” Came the shout back from Claire.
Tom did a bit of rapid mental arithmetic. “Bloody hell, that’s over six and a half million pounds!” he said to himself, “and my share’s £325,000, what a result.”
The soldiers then stacked the 20 boxes onto the front of the mini digger and then escorted it down to the lay-by where they offloaded them onto the truck with the other one. Most of the contingent then stayed with the truck and the mini digger was driven back to the excavation in company with the sergeant. After a short conversation with the sergeant Heinrich turned to Tom and Claire, “They are going to take one truck with most of the men off to Innsbruck for secure storage. Four soldiers will remain with us here to help extract the car and to replace the rocks using the digger and make good the area. We do need to check the car first thoroughly for any further gold.”
Tom, Heinrich and Claire then entered the shelter and carefully checked inside the car for any remaining gold bars whilst a soldier prised open the battered spare wheel cover at the rear to check inside that cavity. Tom climbed into the dicky seat again and shone his torch around but found absolutely nothing. After a great deal of wrenching and juggling Heinrich managed to open one side of the bonnet to reveal the engine, covered in dust and grit particularly over the oily parts. He looked at the huge lump with its two banks jutting out in a ‘V’ configuration with a carburettor on top of each and the huge chromed pipes sticking through the bonnet, one either side. After five minutes they had all decided that nothing else remained of value in the car and Heinrich informed the sergeant accordingly who walked back to the truck which, moments later, departed.
Heinrich had a brief conversation with the mini digger driver who dropped the platform on the front almost to the floor and very slowly inched towards the rear of the Mercedes. The platform slid under the rear of the car and he continued to inch froward with Heinrich waving him on from his kneeling position by the rear wheel where he was directing it under the chassis rails. The platform was now totally under the rear of the car and the digger hard against the bumper, Heinrich held his hand up and the driver slowly raised the platform. The Mercedes creaked and groaned and Tom winced as heard the unmistakable sound of tortured metal but the car continued to rise inexorably. The flat tyres remained obstinately stuck to the ground as the suspension took up it’s travel but eventually Heinrich could see daylight under the rear wheels, he held up his hand again for the digger to stop.
“I suggest we all steady the car as it comes out. Tom, can you steer as we need to turn it fairly hard to get it straight on the track, we don’t want to have to do a three-point turn?”
Tom took up a position on the drivers side running board and gripped the steering wheel while Heinrich, Claire and the other soldiers all took up positions ready to lend pushing and steadying assistance.
The digger driver engaged reverse and the little machine strained to move the heavy car from its tomb. Tom heard the platform slip slightly underneath and was about to call out when the car suddenly jerked and moved backwards, the corrosion binding the front brakes suddenly released. Tom heaved on the steering wheel just managing to put some turn in as the car saw sunshine for the first time in over 70 years. Inch by inch the mighty Mercedes was released from its grave until the digger driver shut the engine down and they all stood back admiring the voluptuous curves of the machine. Despite its dents, scratches, bullet holes rust and filth there was no hiding the magnificence of the design. The moment’s spell was broken by the static from the sergeants radio and the disembodied voice that came from it, Heinrich translated.
“Looks like your carriage awaits!” Tom looked quizzically at him, “The breakdown truck’s here waiting in the lay-by.”
Tom looked down the track, “We still have to get her down the track to where the truck is and it’s steep. I’m worried the digger won’t be able to control it, what do you think?”
Heinrich spoke to the sergeant and from the shaking head Tom deduced he wasn’t too happy with the idea either. There was more conversation with the sergeant and then Heinrich turned to Tom.
“There’s not enough room to turn the car around so the digger can control the car from above on the slope so they’re going to rig up some ropes and pulleys from the car back to the truck to take some strain off the digger on the last, steep bit.”
Progress down the track towards the lay-by was steady if slow. They had tried lowering the rear of the car again to see if they could free the rear wheels but it was obvious the rear drum brakes had totally seized on. The car was now on the top of the steeper part of the track within metres of the lay-by and the driver had to halt movement a couple of times as the wheels of the digger had skidded with the weight pushing it on the loose surface of the track. Two of the soldiers drove the large metal ground spikes into the track either side, and just in front, of the car and then looped ropes through the eyelets on the top. They attached the ropes to the front axle of the car and looped them back down the track to the truck which had moved to the far end of the lay-by. As the digger started down the slope again the ropes tensioned, the spikes bent and the truck, now operating as a brake, slowly crawled back across the lay-by towards the Mercedes now inching down the slope towards it.
Tom held his breath as the digger-car convoy negotiated the final steepest part with the ropes singing under the tension until finally the digger reached level ground and dragged the car into the centre of the lay-by where the ropes were detached and the truck moved out of the way to allow the breakdown truck access.
The entire contingent stood around watching the car being loaded onto the breakdown truck, a tricky manoeuvre involving the winch on the truck and the trusty mini digger keeping the rear wheels off the ground for as long as possible as it was hauled up onto the flatbed. With the car safely strapped and the curtained side panels hiding the car from view, the breakdown truck ground its way out of the lay-by an
d headed off towards Bormio leaving Tom, Claire and Heinrich wistfully gazing after it.
“Well, back to work!” Tom suddenly instructed now the truck was out of sight. “We need to fill the hole back in and clear up here so the troops can leave.”
The mini digger now with a wide bucket attached to the front instead of the forks and platform rumbled back up the slope following the remaining party. Using the bucket the pile of rocks was slowly shoved back into the entrance of the shelter where the soldiers then started re-stacking the pile as best they could.
Meanwhile Tom had gone back into the shelter to recover the ‘Schmeisser’ and cap which he fully intended to keep as souvenirs. Now the Mercedes had departed the empty space seemed huge. Rocks and stones still filled the far corners obscuring the timbers of the structure as they’d only cleared sufficient to extract the car. Tom took his torch and carefully scanned the floor and walls that he could see to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. The reward for his efforts amounted to a spare magazine for the ‘Schmeisser’, a piece of what looked like the missing bumper section and a wartime 10 Reichspfennig coin. He had just turned to leave when he caught a quick flash of a reflection from his torch beam as it swept over the wall at the very end. Intrigued, he moved a few small rocks away and shone his torch into the enlarged gap he’d created. There was definitely something under there. He called out to Heinrich who joined him in the shelter.
“I’ll get the digger in here.”
Heinrich returned with the digger which gently pushed away the pile of rocks exposing a pile of a dozen small wooden boxes although not of the same design as the ones housing the gold bars. Apart from the usual Nazi party symbol stencilled across both long sides were the words ‘Achtung - Strahlung’.
London Stormbird Page 21