Faked Passports gs-3

by Dennis Wheatley

  All through Friday and Saturday he waited in the German

  Mess hoping for the Marshal's summons; but Voroshilov was away long before dawn on both days visiting various sectors of the front. Unlike most modern Generals who spend nearly all their time in conferences far behind the lines, he maintained his old routine which had won him his brilliant victories twenty years earlier. Utterly fearless of death, he was always to be found in the most dangerous forward areas observing things for himself while daylight lasted, and it was only when he got back to camp at night that lie reviewed the general situation with his Staff from the day's reports.

  The battle for Viborg raged with unceasing ferocity. By Saturday, March the 2nd, the Russians had fully established themselves on the coast south of the city. The Mannerheim Line was still holding in the north, at Taipale, on Lake Ladoga, but in the south it had now been completely outflanked and nothing except one wing of the small exhausted Finnish Army lay between the Soviet host and an advance direct on Helsinki.

  By Sunday morning Gregory was becoming desperate. It was eight days since he had left Kandalaksha. Instructions might be arriving at any time now for the prisoners to be transferred to Moscow. Even when he was allowed to see Voroshilov he had yet to get over the big fence of securing from him an order for their release, and in the desperate conditions of this ghastly weather it might take a considerable time to get the order through. Except by railway, communications with Kandalaksha were most unreliable. Kuporovitch had told him how he always sent his reports by courier as the quickest and surest way during the worst months of the winter. It seemed certain to Gregory now that under the pressure of his own affairs Voroshilov had forgotten his promise to give him an interview; so he made up his mind that, legitimate means of getting to see the Marshal having failed, the time had come when he must resort to desperate measures; he would throw all military regulations overboard and attempt to beard Voroshilov personally on his return to camp that night.

  Although Gregory had no uniform his civilian clothes did not make him a conspicuous figure about the camp as everybody there was muffled in fur or leather garments of one kind or another. Having dined with the Germans he went out and took up a position among the trees from which he could observe the front of the long hutment that contained the Marshal's quarters. After a few moments the bitter cold forced him to start walking up and down, but as a number of people were constantly moving about the camp, and he kept at some distance from the building, he did not excite the attention of either of the sentries who were on guard outside it. An hour later his teeth were chattering in his head but at last he heard the note of a musical klaxon horn and the Marshal's fleet of cars came twisting down the woodland road.

  As the klaxon sounded Gregory moved swiftly forward. At the same moment the sentries shouted something in Russian and he guessed that they were turning out the guard to receive the Marshal. When the leading car pulled up Gregory was still about thirty yards from the road and he began to run; three fur clad figures stepped out of the car as he reached a point halfway between them and the hutments. Pulling up in their path he came to attention and saluted smartly; but even as he did so he caught the sound of running footsteps behind him. Before lie had time to open his mouth the guard had seized him by the arms and dragged him 'aside.

  "Marshall Marshal! I have a request," he cried in German; but one of the soldiers clapped a gloved hand over his mouth, muffling his cries, and Voroshilov walked on, followed by his officers who seemed scarcely to have noticed the incident. With kicks and curses the Russians hauled Gregory across the snow towards the end of the long hutment. Two minutes later he was thrown head foremost into the guard room.

  Chapter XXX

  Voroshilov Signs Two Orders

  As Gregory lay bruised and panting on the guard room floor be realized that his crushing fear for Erika had become such an obsession that it had led him into making a blunder which might prove disastrous to them all. If only he had fought down his impatience a little longer the Marshal might have seen him in a day or two and, even if his friends had left Kandalaksha by then, with an order of release from Voroshilov, there might still have been time to intercept them on their journey south and prevent them from being handed over to the Germans in Moscow.

  Now that the failure of his plan had sobered Gregory's anxiety racked brain he knew that even the Supreme Commander of the Soviet forces would not keep a German officer of some standing waiting indefinitely for an interview, when he had a personal letter from Marshal Goering and the backing of the chief of his own Military Mission; but by to night's exploit he might have sabotaged his own chances and be held a prisoner during these next few all important days.

  When the officer of the guard found that Gregory could not speak Russian an interpreter was sent for and explanations ensued. The Russians became slightly more courteous when they learned that he had not had any intention of attempting to assassinate the Marshal, but they were still frigid as they left the guard room, locking him in.

  A quarter of an hour later, to his immense relief, von Geisenheim arrived and, having identified him, vouched for his future good conduct. Gregory had to give his word that he would not try to force himself on the Marshal again. He was then released and, unbelievably thankful at having so swiftly got out of the mess in which he had landed himself, he listened with a good grace to a severe ticking off from von Geisenheim, who privately sympathized with him but had his own position to consider as the responsible head of the German Military Mission.

  The whole of Monday Gregory sat fuming in the glass, hoping for a summons and listening with one ear to the talk which was all of Mr. Sumner Welles' arrival in Berlin on the previous Friday and his interviews with the German leaders on the succeeding days. Von Ribbentrop was on his way to Rome further to strengthen the Berlin Rome Axis and the British were giving considerable offence to the Italians by detaining their coal ships; so the officers hoped that Mussolini might be persuaded to give stronger support to Germany. Gregory smiled to himself that evening when the news came through that Britain had spiked yon Ribbentrop's guns by releasing the coal ships at the last moment. Just as he was going to bed he was warned by Major Woltat that the Military Mission was to accompany Voroshilov to the front again on the following morning.

  It was now apparent that the Finns could not hold out much longer although they were contesting every inch of ground, and on the Tuesday of this second visit to the front Gregory saw for himself the frightful price that Russia was paying for her victory. This time Voroshilov and his entourage went right across the bay to the coast that had been the main Russian objective in the previous week's battle. In front of the now abandoned trenches on the Finnish mainland the Russian dead were piled waist high in one horrible, frozen tangle which stretched as far as the eye could see on either side. The carnage there had been without precedent in history and those members of the German Military Mission who had been allowed to question Finnish prisoners said that the Finns declared that they had plied their machine guns upon the massed Russians until their fingers ached to such a degree that they were positively forced to release the triggers. For days on end, until they had lost all hate for the Russians, they had continued the slaughter filled with utter horror at the massacre which duty called upon them to accomplish; then, at last, from sheer exhaustion they had dropped beside their weapons and had been captured in their gun pits fast asleep.

  It was that night they heard the first rumours of peace negotiations and Gregory's immediate thought was as to how an armistice might affect his friends; but as far as he could see, it would not be of any help to them at all. They were being held as German subjects and once they reached the German Embassy in Moscow they would be dispatched to Berlin to be dealt with whether the Russo Finnish War was still going on or not.

  On Wednesday morning they learned that Doctor Svinhufoud, the ex President of Finland, had accompanied con Ribbentrop to Rome and that Sven Hedin, the pro Nazi Swedish explorer was on hi
s way to see Hitler in Berlin, as apparently both Italy and Sweden were now concerned in assisting the Russo Finnish Peace pourparlers.

  By this time Gregory could barely eat or sleep for the gnawing worry that beset him. It was eleven days since he had left the Arctic and nine of those days had dragged by in futile; a nerve racking waiting. He seemed no nearer now to getting ten minutes with Voroshilov than he had been on the first day of his arrival in the camp, and, badger his wits as he would, he could think of no way in which to expedite matters except plaguing von Geisenheim morning, noon and night; which he did without success.

  His complete helplessness had driven him to such a state of despair that at first he hardly believed it when, on coming into the Mess for lunch that day, von Geisenheim said to him

  Now that peace is almost certain the Soviet offensive is to be temporarily eased, as Voroshilov does not want his troops to be killed unnecessarily. He did not pay his usual visit to the front this morning so I was able to get hold of him. He has agreed to see you at half past two this afternoon."

  Over the meal the Germans were all talking of the rumoured Soviet peace terms, which seemed extremely harsh and would give Russia even more than she had demanded before the outbreak of hostilities; but Gregory hardly listened, until his attention was caught by a monocled Colonel named van Falkenhausen saying:

  "I hear that the British refused to pass on the same terms to Finland three weeks ago, because they considered them brutally excessive, and that they are now talking of coming to the help of the Finns. No Allied Expeditionary Force could possibly reach Finland in time to be of any use, of course, but it will suit us admirably if they try it. They can't make such a move without declaring war on Russia, which would be playing right into our hands. Then they would have to infringe the neutrality of Norway and Sweden or, if the Scandinavians agreed to allow the passage of their troops, give us a perfect excuse for walking into both countries. And, in either case, when they came down that railway from Narvik to Lulea, which is their only line of advance to the head of the Gulf of Bothnia, our bombers would be able to blow their troop trains to merry Hell."

  It seemed to Gregory that the German had put the situation in a nutshell and he prayed with all his might that the Allied Governments would not undertake any such futile and suicidal venture.

  At twenty five minutes past two he was with von Geisenheim in the ante room of Voroshilov's office. At half past two, with quite exceptional punctuality for Russia, they were shown in, and the interview proved infinitely easier than Gregory had expected.

  The Marshal was a bluff, hearty man who stood up to shake Gregory warmly by the hand directly von Geisenheim presented him. The German General, who spoke Russian fluently, stated briefly that the plane in which the Colonel Baron von Lutz's party had left Germany had run into a blizzard and that, having Lost all sense of direction, they had crashed hundreds of miles from their destination to become snow bound in the Arctic forests for nearly three months. He added that having made a bid to get back to civilization towards the end of February the party had encountered Soviet troops and been arrested on a quite unjustifiable suspicion of espionage; but that the Colonel Baron had been allowed to come south on parole while his friends had been detained at Kandalaksha as a surety for his good behaviour.

  Gregory then handed over the forged letter from Goering. The Marshal put on a pair of pince nez, glanced at it and passed it to a Major who was with him. The Major gave Voroshilov a swift translation and the Marshal then spoke quickly in Russian for a few moments; after which von Geisenheim said

  "The Marshal condoles with you upon the accident which deprived him of your services for so long but congratulates your ladies on having survived the rigours of the Arctic under such conditions for so many weeks. He says that it is a pleasure for him to give hospitality to any friend of Marshal Goering's. He regrets that you have had trouble with some of the Nazi leaders but assures you of his protection for as long as you choose to remain in the Soviet Union. He is sorry that your friends should have been detained in Kandalaksha and will give an order for their immediate release. He wishes to know now if they would prefer to be given accommodation in Leningrad or travel permits to one of the neutral countries in the Baltic."

  "If the Marshal could have them sent to a Baltic port where they could get a ship for Sweden I'm sure they would all, be extremely grateful," said Gregory. "The trouble is, though, that they may already be on their way to Moscow, because a report will have gone in about the party and, as they are Germans, if nothing is known about them it may have been decided to hand them over to the German Embassy."

  When this had been translated Voroshilov said that the question of their whereabouts could easily be ascertained by a telephone inquiry to the War Office at Moscow and, when this had been made, he would let the Colonel Baron know.

  Gregory thanked him and the interview was over.

  It seemed that there was nothing more he could do except wait for news, and he could only hope and pray that he would not be called upon to pass through further days of miserable uncertainty while the Russians were making the inquiries with their usual slowness. The only thing that cheered him a little was the fact that Voroshilov did not seem the sort of man who would let the grass grow under his feet; but having at last become aware of Colonel Baron, von Lutz's existence and his anxiety for his friends, would definitely do something about them. This proved the case, as barely an hour later Gregory was to be sent for by von Geisenheim, who told him that Voroshilov wished to see them again. They walked down the slippery, snow covered track through the woods together, and after a short wait were shown in to the Marshal.

  The interpreter major, who was still with him, said at once: "The department concerned in Moscow has just telephoned a reply to our inquiry. On February the 28th they received a report that your friends were being held on suspicion of espionage at Kandalaksha. Apparently they told some story about having been in Petsamo on the day that war broke out, and having left there in an aeroplane for the purpose of getting in touch with the Military Intelligence section of our Northern Command."

  Gregory was ready for that one, and nodded. "We said that, because we hoped to be transferred immediately to Murmansk, as from there my friends could have got a ship to take them along to Norway, once I had got in touch with the Marshal and secured his consent to the arrangement."

  When Voroshilov learned what had been said he smiled and made a remark which was translated as: "Evidently your friends feel that they cannot get too far away from the Gestapo." And the interpreter went on:

  "Moscow got in touch with Military Intelligence at Murmansk by wireless, but naturally, in view of what you say, Murmansk knew nothing of the prisoners, so the inquiry was referred to the German Embassy, who took the matter up with Berlin. The Embassy replied on March the 2nd that the Gräfin von Osterberg is an enemy of the German Reich who has been found guilty of treason, by a court held during her absence, and condemned to death. The German Ambassador requested that in order to save time and expense permission should be granted for Gestapo agents to travel from Moscow to Kandalaksha to examine the other prisoners and carry out the sentence on the Frau Gräfin there."

  "What?" stammered Gregory? "But good God, how frightful!"

  This bolt from the blue was worse than anything he had feared. He had been comforting himself for the last hour with the thought that the prisoner's journey, via Leningrad and Moscow, to the German frontier was bound to occupy several days, so with the Marshal's assistance he might be able to trace them to the place they had reached and secure their release; but if Gestapo agents had already been sent to Kandalaksha to execute Erika this last hope was now gone.

  "Was was the permission granted?" he asked almost in a whisper.

  "Yes," replied the interpreter: "on March the 5th."

  Voroshilov said something in Russian and von Geisenheim translated. "The Marshal says that he is so sorry to learn that Herr Himmler has managed to overreach Mar
shal Goering in this private vendetta of his against at least one of your friends. However, he remarks upon your good fortune in having managed to reach his headquarters; because you, von Lutz, were reported as being with the Frau Gräfin and it seems that in your absence you also were condemned to death by a Nazi court held soon after the November Putsch, so if you were still at Kandalaksha you would share the Frau Gräfins' fate."

  Into Gregory's stricken mind penetrated the fact that the General spoke of Erika as though she was still alive, and a second later he realized that it must be so. It was only March the 6th, so the Gestapo execution squad could not have left Moscow earlier than the previous evening and the night train would have arrived in Leningrad only that morning. Between leaving

  the one train and catching another for the North they would certainly go to an hotel in the city for a meal and a bath and, after their night sitting up in the train, would probably go to bed for a few hours' sleep before proceeding on the much longer stage of their exhausting journey. In no case would they have left Leningrad until after lunch and it was possible that they did not intend to catch a train north until the evening; so the prisoners at Kandalaksha were as yet ignorant of the menace that was moving slowly but inexorably towards them and Erika had at least another day and a half to live.

  With a surge of new hope Gregory asked if the Marshal would arrange for the authorities in Leningrad to be spoken to on the telephone and told to hold the Gestapo men, if they were still there; or, alternatively, issue counter orders and have the prisoners brought to his headquarters.

  Voroshilov's reply was to the effect that the Gestapo agents would be travelling on a Foreign Office permit and he could not interfere with Foreign Office affairs. On the other hand, in military matters he was the supreme authority and, as the prisoners were in the hands of the Military, he would be happy to oblige Marshal Goering by snatching his friends from the clutches of the Gestapo; but the difficulty lay in conveying such an order to the Governor of Kandalaksha in time to save theFrau Gräfin. There were many lines from this, the main theatre of war, to Leningrad and Moscow, but to the northern front communications were far from reliable. On several occasions the Finns had even succeeded in cutting the railway just south of Kandalaksha, and heavy falls of snow frequently broke the telephone and telegraph wires. One such blizzard had brought down miles of line only two days ago.