He passed so low and so slow that he thought he could see surprise on the faces of the workmen who were erecting fences and framework for camouflage netting around and over the new, square, windowless concrete block building.
And then he was past it. He shoved the throttle ahead and retracted his gear and flaps and pulled back on the stick.
He wondered if Eric was down there and could hear, or perhaps even see, the American fighter as it climbed steeply into the sky.
He hadn't seen anything of great significance. And he wasn't even sure that the Germans really intended to use the Marburg facility's electric furnaces to make the special alloy steel parts for their jet-propulsion engines. But it was important that he have a look for himself. Now that he'd done so, he was glad that he had--even if his fund of knowledge was not appreciably greater than it had been.
The odds were that he would be responsible for mounting a mission against that particular factory. He wanted to know what something that would certainly cost American lives looked like. And he would now be in a position to recommend the path attackers would take. Having been there, he was now an expert.
As he came out of a cloud layer at 15,000 feet, he saw the bomber stream above him. When he reached 20,000 feet,.50-caliber tracers from several of the bombers began to arc in his direction.
That was bad, but worse would follow. There was a mob instinct. If the guy in the next plane is firing at that airplane, maybe be can see something I can't, like Maltese crosses on the wings. Why take a chance?
Canidy put the P-38F into a steep dive away from the bomber stream, to get out of range, and when he felt safe, he went to 23,000 feet and caught up with the fighter escort. He got there just as a swarm of Messerschmitts based near Frankfurt began their attack, and the fighter formations broke up to repel it. He didn't find Douglass until long after the bombing run, when they were headed home.
When he pulled beside him, Douglass took off his glove so there would be no question but that he was giving Canidy the international aviation hand signal known as "The Finger."
The commanding officer of the 344the Fighter Group went on the air-to-air.
"You goddamn sonofabitch," he said.
"I was worried about you."
[TWO]
East Railway Station 1145 Hours 31 January 1943
When the Opel Admiral -was found parked in the reserved area of the East Railway Station, it quite naturally caused a certain curiosity among the Gestapo agents assigned to the station.
For one thing, there were few Admirals--which was to the line of Adam Opel GmbH automobiles as Cadillac was to General Motors--around anywhere, and possession of one was a symbol of power and authority. This one, moreover, bore Berlin license plates, a CD (Corps Diplomatique) plate, and affixed to the Berlin license tag where the tax sticker was supposed to go, a sticker signifying that taxes had been waived because the automobile was in the service of the German Reich, and specifically in the service of the SS-SD.
Obviously, whoever had parked the car was someone of high importance.
The question was just who he was.
First things first. Josef Hamm, the ranking Gestapo agent, ordered that the Hungarian railway police be "requested" to station a railway policeman to watch
the car. If there was one thing known for sure, it was that, whoever the high official was, he would not be at all pleased to return to his car and find that someone had taken a key or a coin and run it along the fenders and doors. There had been a good deal of that, lately. A number of Hungarians took offense at the Hungarian-German alliance generally, and at the large--and growing-presence of German troops and SS in Budapest specifically, and expressed their displeasure in small, nasty ways.
Then Hamm called the security officer at the German embassy and asked whom the car belonged to.
"It probably belongs to von Heurten-Mitnitz," the security officer said.
"That would explain the SD sticker, and he's the type to have an Admiral."
"Who's von HeurtenMitnitz?"
"Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz," the security officer said.
"He's the new first secretary."
"How does he rate an SD sticker?"
"Because when he's bored with wearing striped pants, he can wear the uniform of a Brigadefuhrer SS-SD," the security officer said.
"You could say that von Heurten-Mitnitz is a very influential man. His brother is a great friend of the Fuhrer. If you'd like, I can check the license plate number by teletype with Berlin."
"How long would that take?"
"Thirty, forty minutes," the security officer said.
"I'll call you back in an hour," Josef Hamm said.
"Thank you, Karl."
When he called back, Hamm was told that von Heurten-Mitnitz did not own the Admiral. It was owned by Standartenfiihrer (Colonel) Johann Muller, of the SS-SD.
"Do you think he knows von Heurten-Mitnitz is driving it?"
"I think if it was stolen, Josef," the security officer said sarcastically, "they probably would have said something. Muller is with the Fuhrer at Wolf's Lair.
Nobody takes a personal car there. So maybe he loaned it to von HeurtenMitnitz."
"Have you seen this von Heurten-Mitnitz? What's he look like?"
"Tall, thin, sharp-featured. Classy dresser. If you're thinking, Josef, of asking von Heurten-Mitnitz what he's doing with Muller's car, I wouldn't."
"I'm thinking of finding the new First Secretary when he comes back and telling him that if he will be so good, when he leaves his car at the station, as to tell us, we will do our very best to make sure some Hungarian doesn't piss on his engine or write a dirty word on the hood with a pocketknife."
The security officer chuckled.
"You're learning, Josef," he said, and then hung up.
Josef Hamm and two of his men were waiting at the end of the platform when the 1705 from Vienna pulled in. The two men positioned themselves at opposite ends of the three first-class cars, and, when one of them spotted a "tall, sharp-featured, classy dresser" getting off, he signaled to Josef Hamm by taking off his hat and waving it over his head, as if waving at someone who had come to meet him at the train.
Hamm saw that Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz was indeed a classy dresser.
He wore a gray Homburg and an overcoat with a fur collar. With him were three people, an Obersturmfiihrer-SS and a man and woman who looked like father and daughter.
When they had almost reached the police checkpoint at the end of the platform, Hamm walked around it and up to von HeurtenMitnitz.
"Heil Hitler!" Hamm said, giving a quick, straight-armed salute. Von Heurten-Mitnitz made a casual wave in return.
"Herr Brigadefiihrer von Heurten-Mitnitz?" Hamm asked.
"Yes," von Heurten-Mitnitz said, but did not smile.
"Josef Hamm at your service, Herr Brigadefiihrer," he said.
"I have the honor to command the Railway Detachment, Gestapo District Budapest."
"What can I do for you, Herr Hamm?" von Heurten-Mitnitz asked, obviously annoyed to be detained.
"First, let me get you past the checkpoint," Hamm said.
"This officer and these people are with me," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
The young SS officer raised his hand in a sloppy salute.
"Make way for the Brigadefiihrer and his party!" Hamm called out as he led them to and past the checkpoint.
"Very kind of you," von Heurten-Mitnitz mumbled.
"Now, what's on your mind?"
"Herr Brigadefiihrer," Hamm began, "if you would be so kind as to notify one of my men whenever you park your car here at the station--" "Why would I want to do that?" von Heurten-Mitnitz interrupted.
"--then I can make sure that no one bothers it while you are gone."
Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz looked at Hamm without speaking, but a raised eyebrow asked, What the hell are you talking about?
"There have been unfortunate incidents, Herr Brigadefiihrer," Hamm explained, "where
cars have been... defiled... by unsavory elements among the Budapest population. Paint scratched. Worse."
Von Heurten-Mitnitz seemed to consider this a moment, and then he smiled.
"I believe I am beginning to understand," he said.
"You saw my car parked, and took the trouble to find out whose it was, and then to meet me. How very obliging of you, Herr Hamm! I am most grateful."
"It was my pleasure, Herr Brigadefiihrer," Hamm said.
"You can do me one other courtesy," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
"Please do not use my SS rank when addressing me. The less well known it is in Budapest, the better, if you take my meaning. I also hold the rank of minister."
"That was thoughtless of me, Herr Minister," Hamm said.
"I beg the Herr Minister's pardon."
"Don't be silly, my dear Hamm," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
"How could you have known?"
"Is there any other way in which I can help the Herr Minister?" Hamm said.
"I can't think ofone,"von Heurten-Mitnitz said after a moment's hesitation.
He offered his hand.
"I am touched by your courtesy, Herr Hamm, and impressed with your thoroughness. I shall tell the Ambassador what you've done for me."
They were by then standing beside the Admiral. Hamm opened both doors and, after the father-and-daughter had gotten into the backseat, closed them.
The young SS officer walked around the rear of the car and slipped in beside von Heurten-Mitnitz. Hamm gave another salute, which von HeurtenMitnitz returned casually, and with a smile, and then Hamm stood back as von Heurten-Mitnitz backed the Admiral out of its parking space.
All things considered, Hamm thought, / handled that rather well.
When they were a few yards from the station, the tall, gray-haired man in the backseat spoke.
"My God, when he stopped you, I thought I was going to faint."
"You really don't faint when you're frightened, Professor," the young SS officer said.
"Fear causes adrenaline to flow, and that increases, not decreases, the flow of blood to the brain. Shutting off blood to the brain is what makes you faint."
"Oh, my God! "the young woman in the backseat said with infinite disgust.
Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz chuckled.
"How very American," he said.
The young SS officer carried an identification card that identified him as Obersturmfuhrer-SS Baron von Fulmar, of the personal staff of the ReichsnihrerSS, It was a forgery, a very good one. In a safe at Whithey House, Kent, there was a bona fide identity card issued by the Adjutant General's Office, U.S.
Army, identifying him as FULMAR, Eric, 1st It." Infantry, Army of the United States.
"Where are we going?" the gray-haired man asked. He was Professor Doktor Friedrich Dyer, until two days before of the Metallurgy Department, College of Physics, the University of Marburg. His name was now being circulated over SS-SD and police teletypes. He was being sought for questioning regarding the murder of SS Hauptsturmfuhrer (Captain) Wilhelm Peis. The teletype message said that he was probably accompanied by his daughter Gisella, that it was possible that they would try to flee the country, and that authorities in ports along the English Channel should consequently be on special alert.
"To Batthyany Palace," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
"It's on Holy Trinity Square. Not far from here."
"And what happens there?" Professor Dyer asked.
"I don't know about anybody else," Fulmar said.
"But I intend to go to work on a bottle of brandy."
"That's not what I meant," Professor Dyer snapped.
"You'll be told what you have to know, Professor," Fulmar said, "when you have to know it. The less you know, the better. I thought I'd made that plain."
Professor Dyer exhaled audibly and slumped against his seat. His daughter flashed a look of contempt at the back of Fulmar's head, and shook her own head in resignation.
Batthyany Palace, directly across Holy Trinity Square from St. Matthias's Church, had been built at approximately the same time (1775-77) as the royal castle (1715-70) atop Castle Hill. Twelve-foot statues of bare-chested men on the facade appeared to be carrying the upper stories on their shoulders, earning the admiration of ten-foot, large-bosomed granite women twined around pillars at each of three identical double doors.
The door at the left was a fake. The center door opened into the entrance foyer of the palace, and the door at the right was the carriage entrance. Von Heurten-Mitnitz turned off the square and stopped the Admiral with its nose against the right door and blew the horn. A moment later, one by one, the double doors opened. He drove through, and the doors closed after him.
Beatrice, Countess Batthyany and Baroness von Steighofen, was standing in a vestibule waiting for them. She was a tall, generously built woman in her early thirties. She was wearing a sable coat that reached nearly to her ankles and a matching sable hat under which a good deal of dark red hair was visible.
Von Heurten-Mitnitz drove past her into a courtyard, turned around, and returned to the vestibule, where he stopped.
The Countess went to the rear door and pulled it open.
"I'm the Countess Batthyany," she said.
"Won't you please come in?"
Professor Dyer and his daughter got out of the car and, following the direction indicated by the Countess's outstretched hand, walked into the building.
The Countess turned to smile at Fulmar.
"And you must be dear cousin Eric," she said, dryly.
"How nice to finally meet you."
Fulmar laughed.
"Hello," he said.
She turned to Von Heurten-Mitnitz, who had walked around the front of the car.
"I see everything turned out all right," she said.
"The Gestapo man at the station personally led us past the checkpoint," he said.
"Oooh," she said.
"I suppose you could use a drink."
"I could," Fulmar said.
She turned to look at him again.
"You look like Manny," she said.
"You even sound like him. That terrible Hessian dialect."
He chuckled.
"Let's hope you are luckier," the Countess said as she started into the house.
"Let's hope there's some of his clothing here, and that it fits," Fulmar said.
"Particularly shoes."
She turned and looked at him again, this time appraisingly.
"You're a little larger than Manny was," she said.
"But there should be something.
I gather you want to get out of that uniform?"
"They're looking for an Obersturmfuhrer who looks like me," Fulmar said.
"There was a Gestapo agent at the border who thought he had found him."
"That close?" she asked.
"I think it's been smoothed over," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
"It was close, but I think it... is smoothed over."
The Countess considered what he had said and nodded her head.
Heating the enormous old palace had under the best of circumstances always been difficult. Now, without adequate supplies of coal, it had proved impossible.
It wasn't as if she didn't have coal. There were half a dozen coal mines running around the clock on Batthyany property, and she could have all the coal she wanted. The problem was getting the coal from the mines to Batthyany Palace. That required trucks, and she had been allocated one truckload per month. She didn't always get that, and even when she did, one truckload was nowhere near enough to heat the palace.
She didn't even bother to try to heat the entire lower floor of the palace, nor the two upper floors. They had been shut off with rather ugly and really not very effective wooden barriers over the stairwells. Only the first floor was occupied (in America, the second floor). The Countess was living in a five room apartment overlooking Holy Trinity Square, but she often thought she might as well be living in the basement
for all she got to look at the square.
Most of the floor-to-ceiling windows had been timbered over to preserve the heat from the tall, porcelain-covered stoves in the corners of the rooms. The two windows (leading to the balcony over the square and the garden in the rear) that were not covered over with timber were covered with seldom opened drapes.
W E B Griffin - Men at War 4 - The Fighting Agents Page 9