“Sadly, it is very likely.”
* * *
Using the cable and a pulley to haul small boats containing American soldiers across the Rhine worked, but with only minimal efficiency. It took too long, was too dangerous, and only a handful could make each trip. And it was only attempted at night. Thus, after a week only five men were more or less permanently stationed on the German side of the Rhine. For a few days, Tanner was one of them. He spent much of his time either hiding in the mud or crawling in it. He recalled Dr. Hagerman’s admonition that he should not get his feet wet. How does one do that when there is a war on and you really don’t have enough rank to order someone else to get wet?
Tanner noticed few German patrols. He thought it was because they didn’t think a crossing at Vogelgrun was likely. During the days he spent on the German side, he did manage to pick up one potentially vital piece of information. That was the location of German minefields. Every morning, farmers would drive their cattle and sheep along proscribed paths that led from the Dragon’s Teeth cement barriers to the fields bordering the river. With a sketch pad and a good Swiss camera, he and the other Americans were able to pin down the probable locations of minefields.
“If the farmers don’t let their cows get blown up,” Tanner said on reporting back to General Evans, “I think it’s highly unlikely that GIs will either.”
“Could you see any indication that they know we’re coming?”
“Sir, I followed the cow paths and crawled on my belly through the Dragon’s Teeth and a little ways beyond. I confirmed that farmers had filled in the area between some Dragon’s Teeth so their livestock could more easily make it to the fields. Not exactly the thing to do if an attack is expected.”
Evans sat back and thought. “With dirt filling the places between the teeth, could we drive jeeps and tanks over them?”
“I couldn’t tell how firmly packed that dirt was, but if a cow could make it, so could a jeep. As to a tank, I’m not certain. And I could see the bunkers where the Germans were stationed and everything seemed quiet. There was laughter and talk and, of course, cigarette smoke. They may be concerned about crossings north of here, but I would say that the average Kraut isn’t worried about anybody coming from Vogelgrun.”
Evans stood up and began to pace. “Since we switched spots with the French, General Devers’ plan to have Patch’s Seventh Army cross at Mannheim is no longer very viable. Therefore, he is intrigued at the possibility of an American crossing at Vogelgrun. It the attack is a surprise, do you think we can pull it off?”
Why are you asking me? thought Tanner. He wants advice, that’s why. Evans, Patch and Devers will make the ultimate decision but they want input from people on the ground. “Sir, I think we could make it across fairly easily.”
“What about an artillery bombardment?”
“General, the Germans looked so sleepy we might just be able to rush them without a bombardment.”
Evans laughed. “And that is why I’m a general and you’re not, Tanner. I have been given fifty DUKW landing craft and each can handle at least a squad. We will bombard the crap out of them for no more than two hours then the little DUKWs can race across the narrow river as fast as they can and come back for more. In three crossings we should have at least a battalion on the other side. While our men keep crossing, engineers will be building pontoon bridges. The Germans will try to destroy them, of course, but we’re not going to let them, are we?”
Tanner grinned. Evans’ enthusiasm was contagious. “Yes, sir. I mean no sir.”
“That’s right. We’re going into the heart of Germany and seal off the routes to their damned Alpine Redoubt. Oh by the way, Captain, I’m commending you for going across and scouting the land for us. You might even get a medal out of it.”
Tanner didn’t know what to say except thank you. He did not think of himself as someone who had done anything heroic. “Sir, other guys were out there as well.”
“Don’t worry; we’ll take care of them. Look, Captain, this is such a new and virginal division we want our boys to know that there are men who will do what they have to and then some and, oh yeah, survive the experience. You could have huddled in the mud of the riverbank for a couple of days and nobody would have known. But no, you went out and crawled through their lines and picked up valuable information. And how can you be certain you knew where all the minefields were? All you had to do was miss one and we wouldn’t be having this cozy little talk, now would we?”
“No sir.”
“Good, now we’ll be giving you a second chance to prove you’re a hero. When the attack comes, you’ll be in one of the lead boats so you can make certain nobody strays off the beaten path and into a minefield. And try to keep your feet dry.”
* * *
Lena was exhausted. Her body ached and she was hungry. She was almost always hungry. Food was becoming more and more scarce. She’d picked up on rumors that what food existed was going south into the redoubt to feed the German armies that were supposed to flock there. She had her doubts. The Schneiders had more than enough but they were not about to share. And especially not with someone who was going to be disposed of in a very short while. Lena was becoming desperate. When should she run? Soon, very soon, she kept telling herself.
Lena had been spending most of the past several days helping the Schneider’s pack their belongings. If they were going to be refugees, they were going to be extremely well-dressed refugees. She thought that Frau Schneider was in for a rude awakening. Her husband had tried to tell her that she could not bring all her clothing and jewelry. She had even wanted to bring a lot of her furniture. “We’ll come back for it,” her pig of a husband told her. That seemed to mollify her. But the trunks and suitcases of clothing were mountainous. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been an indicator that Lena was going to be sent to a war factory where she would likely die.
She was in her room and had stripped off her dress and slip, and was standing barefoot by her bed, dressed only in her bra and panties. Her dress was soaked with sweat and it would have to be washed. But why? she thought. Perhaps she should take off tonight? After all, the only ones in the house were Anton and Magda. Their parents were off to some Nazi celebration designed to take their minds off the fact that Germany was losing the war.
The door to her room clicked and Anton entered. When he saw that she was partly undressed, he grinned happily. “You are lovely,” he said.
“Thank you, but you should leave,” she said sternly. “Your father will be home shortly.” She cursed the fact that the cook, Olga, had come down with a fever and was in the hospital. She was alone with Anton.
She fought the urge to cross her arms across her breasts and thighs. Such a show of modesty would make Anton think he had intimidated her. Instead, she stood and glared at him. She was wearing almost as much clothing as a young girl at the beach.
He took a step towards her. “I don’t think it’s time to leave,” he said huskily. “I think it’s time to finish.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. She was surprised by his strength. He tried to kiss her and then grabbed for her breasts, squeezing them and hurting her. In shock, she squealed with pain.
Anton laughed. “Don’t worry about my father. He won’t be home for a couple of hours and he’s already said I can do whatever I want with you. After tomorrow it won’t matter.”
Tomorrow? She sagged and he took it as a sign of weakness. His hands roamed over her body, inside her bra and up her legs. He was breathing, panting, heavily.
“I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt me,” she whispered in his ear.
Anton smiled and stepped back. “Then take off your clothes.”
Lena stepped out of her bra and panties. “Now it’s your turn.”
He grinned and in a moment he was naked as well. “Let me touch you,” she said. She reached down and stroked his growing manhood. He sighed happily and she cupped his balls in her hand. Suddenly, she
squeezed with all her might and twisted them savagely. His eyes widened. He wanted to scream, but no sound would come from his throat. She jabbed him in the eye with the fingers of her other hand and, when he went to protect it, she kicked him in the testicles. Anton fell to the floor and curled up into a fetal position. She kicked his hands aside from his testicles and kicked him again and again in the groin until he stopped writhing.
“Animal,” she said. She took the sheet off her bed and tied him up tightly. A pillowcase made a marvelous gag.
He wasn’t moving. She checked for a pulse and there was one. She despised him but had not planned on killing him. Her decision had been made for her. She would leave right now.
Lena dressed quickly, this time in the heavy and practical clothing she’d already squirreled away. These included some of Astrid’s ski clothing, including her boots. They were large for her but she solved the problem by stuffing them with rags. She went to the kitchen and filled a cloth sack with food that would both be nourishing and would last. At least that was her hope. She also added some kitchen knives and a cleaver to the sack.
“What is happening? What have you done to Anton?”
Lena had been concentrating so hard that she’d missed the sound of Anton’s sister Astrid coming home. “You’ve murdered him,” Astrid yelled again.
Lena screamed, letting go of suppressed rage. She grabbed a lamp and smashed it against Astrid’s head. The young woman dropped to the floor like puppet whose strings had been cut.
Lena checked for a pulse. It was there but light and feathery. A shame, she thought, but she could not, would not, do anything to help either one of her captors.
More bedding was used to secure Astrid. Lena completed her escape plans by breaking into Gustav Schneider’s gun rack. His shotguns and rifles would be too obvious and they would be awkward for her to carry. She smiled when she saw the Luger he said he’d brought back from the Great War. He always bragged that he’d used it in combat and had killed Frenchmen with it. She doubted that he’d gotten anywhere near the trenches and had probably won it in a card game.
It didn’t matter. She had it now along with several clips of ammunition. The extra ammo went into another sack and the pistol was tucked in the small of her back. There was a shoulder holster and she took that as well. It was too large for her but maybe she could adjust it. Nor did she have to worry about Olga, the cook.
Finally, she found a couple of pieces of Herr Schneider’s official Nazi stationery and quickly typed passes for herself, signing Gustav’s signature to them. One was in her own name and the other in her mother’s maiden name. She was now both Lena Bobekova and Lena Madzyk. Better, the papers authorized her to go anywhere she wished with the blessings of Adolf Hitler.
She went back to where Anton and Astrid were tied up. Astrid’s eyelids were fluttering, so maybe she would recover. Good, Lena thought. Anton was more alert and staring at her. She took the cleaver from the sack and held it in front of his nose. His eyes widened in fear and he started to cry. She turned the knife and dragged the flat side down to his swollen testicles and alongside his bruised penis.
“You are an evil little boy. I should cut this off and save everyone a lot of trouble. When your parents come home, you will tell them that I could have killed you but did not. Do you understand?”
Anton nodded. She smiled as she noticed that he had also peed himself. She let herself out the back. With a couple of hours lead, she could be anywhere before the Schneiders started a search. In the growing chaos of the times, she wondered if there would even be a search.
* * *
Field Marshal Ferdinand Schoerner gave the Nazi salute. He then jubilantly rushed and embraced Propaganda Minister Josef Goebbels. “It is so good to see you, Minister,” he said with genuine enthusiastically.
Goebbels laughed. It was good to be off the road and out of an ambulance. Even though he was currently in a cave carved into a mountain, there was a strong feeling of security and safety. And of hope for the future of the Reich.
“I won’t ask you if you had a pleasant trip. I think we all know better.” Schoerner turned and waved the others out of his office. “I believe it is time for privacy.”
When they were alone and behind closed doors, Schoerner poured brandies into expensive crystal and they toasted their good fortune. “Thank you,” Goebbels said. “I’m exhausted. I feel like I’ve been on another planet for the last several weeks. I’ve lost track of everything. However, I do know that the Americans have crossed the Rhine and that the British have followed suit. Is there any hope of stopping them?”
“None whatsoever,” said Schoerner sadly. “Nor is there any hope of stopping the Soviets. Berlin will be destroyed and many of the people trapped inside will die horribly.”
“Then I am doubly glad to be here with the children. They and their mother are staying in Bregenz. They are comfortable and their villa is on the outskirts of a town that is almost too small to have outskirts.”
Schoerner laughed. He noticed that Goebbels had not mentioned Magda by name. He had already gotten word from one of the ambulance drivers that there had been several flare-ups between Josef and Magda during the last few days. Magda and the children would live in Bregenz while separate quarters were made up for her husband. It was what he had anticipated. He would also arrange for attractive women to be available if the Reich Minister was so inclined—as he generally was.
Goebbels’ second brandy appeared to be relaxing him. “And what is the shape of the army, Herr Schoerner?”
“It could be much better and it definitely could be very much worse and I am not trying to be confusing. We have elements of at least fifty divisions in the Redoubt with more arriving daily. Unfortunately, the operative word is elements. A full infantry division should have seventeen thousand men. These remnants sometimes only have two or three thousand, sometimes much less. Worse, a disproportionate number of these are from noncombat and rear echelon areas. Our real combat forces have been decimated. General Warlimont has been working tirelessly and brilliantly to reorganize these battered groups into something resembling a coherent force. They will not be the same German army that invented the Blitzkrieg and destroyed France in only a few weeks, but they will do extremely well when well-fortified and fighting on the defensive.”
Goebbels was satisfied. “Fighting such a defensive war is why we came to the mountains, Field Marshal. The days of launching huge armies across vast continents and winning great victories are over. At least for the time being,” Goebbels added with a smile. “Who knows what might happen in the future. Right now our goal is simply to survive.”
“Indeed,” said Schoerner. “Our forces have other problems that we are trying to confront. For instance, we have only a few dozen planes and pilots and very little fuel. The Luftwaffe is somewhere between nonexistent and grounded. While we did manage to bring in a goodly number of artillery pieces and antiaircraft weapons, we do not have an excess of ammunition. The factories set up by Herr Speer’s minions are just now beginning to produce but they will never be able to supply ammunition in the quantities that we really need.”
Goebbels nodded. What he needed and wanted desperately was a good night’s sleep. The last few days with Magda had almost driven him mad. The closer they got to safety the more unreasonable and irritable she had become, loudly reminding him of every affair he’d ever had, including some he had totally forgotten. He’d countered by reminding her of her own sexual escapades. Thank God the children traveled in a separate vehicle.
Schoerner was still talking and Goebbels was jarred back to reality. “I didn’t mention armor, but the situation there is reasonably good. Warlimont’s ever-changing inventory says we have about five hundred tanks of all kinds. Few are Panthers or Tigers, but most of them are Panzer IVs with upgraded guns. Fuel is again an issue, so they will likely be used as a mobile defense force.”
“Excellent,” Goebbels said and yawned. “I have some thoughts, although they wi
ll not alleviate fuel and ammunition shortages. The Americans were clearly loath to fire on an ambulance. I suggest that additional ambulances be filled with cash, gold and valuable art works that can be used to buy things through the Swiss. A few score more ambulances, perhaps even a few hundred, could provide us with a fortune.”
Goebbels shook his head and yawned again.
Schoerner laughed. “I have a feeling I’m keeping you up, Minister. May I suggest we resume again after you’ve had a chance to rest? By the way, the renowned physicist, Abraham Esau, has made it here as well along with a number of other scientists. We have put them to work developing what he, Heisenberg, and others were developing. Heisenberg is also expected, but obviously has not yet arrived.”
Goebbels was suddenly awake. Esau was indeed important. He was perhaps even more important than Heisenberg. Some considered him the founder of the German nuclear program. “Can he make the atomic bomb that Heisenberg promised?”
“He says he can. Of course, if he had said he couldn’t we would have had them all shot. He also says that solutions to a number of other difficulties with our weapons were well within reach. All he needed was time and resources. Unfortunately, we have neither, but we will do everything we can for him. I have put him in his own bunker a mile or so out of town and he has a number of scientific toys to play with. He and the other scientists are well guarded.”
Goebbels smiled. “Perhaps it is not too late to spring an awful surprise on the Americans.”
“Indeed. My only concern is that with a name like Abraham Esau, he might be Jewish.”
Goebbels shook his head. “I recall his name and the fact that his family was thoroughly researched. He is not Jewish.”
Schoerner was clearly not convinced. “However, he will be watched.”
“Will you have any of your men working with him in his bunker or even just watching them?”
“I told Doctor Esau that I would be doing that and he laughed at me. He asked how many of my men were physicists and I had to admit that none were. He then informed me that my men would be in the way, would slow down the scientists work and might just be in danger from radiation. He added that an untrained person might make a catastrophic mistake and cause the bomb to detonate prematurely. For the time being, I have deferred to his wishes.”
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