After lunch she wrapped herself up, using her scarf and her dark glasses for maximum concealment, took a taxi to the docks, boarded, and again went straight to her cabin, where she remained until dinner, by which time they were well out to sea. There was no temptation to go on deck; at sea the cold was even more bitter than on land.
She smiled at the other passengers but did not join them for after dinner brandies and coffees, preferring to return to her cabin. This time she slept soundly, but awoke with a start. She sat up, looked at her watch; it was eight o’clock, but seemed to be still dark; her porthole was closed. She switched on the cabin light, and was nearly thrown out of her bunk by a violent explosion. Then she heard the ship’s tannoy, first in Finnish, which she didn’t understand, and then in German, summoning all passengers on deck with their lifejackets.
Anna found that she was panting. If she was used to risking life and limb on land, the sea was foreign territory. She had crossed the Atlantic twice in 1941, but on each occasion she had known that Admiral Doenitz had been informed of the name and description of her ship, and had issued orders to his U-boats that she was not to be attacked. But she could still remember the utter relief with which she had sighted the hills of Portugal rising out of the eastern horizon on her return journey.
The cabin door burst open and a steward looked in. ‘Hurry Fraulein!’ he said. ‘The ship is sinking.’
‘Oh, my God!’ Anna said, and threw back the blankets. The steward stared at her naked body in consternation, but she ignored him. There seemed no time to dress properly, so she dropped her green dress over her shoulders, wrapped herself in her sable, and grabbed her shoulder bag, sweeping her jewellery from the dressing table into it.
The steward was holding her lifejacket. ‘Let me help you, Fraulein.’
Anna slung the bag and then allowed herself to be inserted into the kapok vest, and he tied the cords. Then he half pushed her into the corridor, which was already sloping downwards. He was holding her arm now to move her up the slope and to the ladder leading to the deck; it was only when she stubbed her toe that she realized she had no shoes.
The steward dragged her up the ladder into the midst of a crowd of people. There was a lot of chatter and a few shrieks but no real panic. One boat had already been lowered and two more were swung out and waiting.
‘In you go, Fraulein,’ the steward said.
Anna cast a hasty glance around her. Dawn was just breaking, over a calm sea but a leaden sky. There was land astern of them, but a very long way away; she guessed it must be Gotland. The ferry itself was well down by the head; water was slurping over the bows and flooding the well-deck behind the forecastle. And as she hesitated, the lights went out.
‘Come on, Fraulein,’ the officer in the boat shouted, and she clambered over the rail.
‘Aren’t you coming?’ she asked the steward.
‘I’ll be along later,’ he assured her, and stepped back.
Then they were going down very rapidly, past the cabin deck to land heavily on the sea, which produced another chorus of muted shrieks. The boat settled, and the oars went out; there were three seamen to a side and they pulled steadily away from the sinking ship. This clearly had only a few minutes to live, and there were still people on the sloping deck.
‘Will they all get off?’ Anna asked. She didn’t think they’d have much chance if they entered the near-freezing water.
‘There’s a boat for them,’ someone said.
She was sitting next to a woman who was huddled up, shivering. ‘Do you know what happened?’ she asked.
The woman muttered something in Finnish.
‘I think we were torpedoed,’ said the man on the other side, in German.
‘But Finland is not at war. Is it?’
‘Do you think that matters to the Russians?’
The woman was still talking.
‘What is she saying?’ Anna asked.
‘She wants to know what is so important about that bag you have. She says no other woman has a bag.’
‘As she should be able to see,’ Anna pointed out, ‘I was wearing this bag before my lifejacket was put on. I do not propose to take either off right this minute.’
The woman continued to grumble, but Anna ignored her. She had problems of her own, principally the cold. Her sable was keeping her body warm, but she had lost all feeling in her feet, so that she wondered if she was suffering from frostbite. What a calamitous trip this had turned out to be.
And now she realized that the distant land was dwindling. ‘Why are we going the wrong way?’ she asked the man, her teeth chattering. ‘The land is back there.’
‘It is very far away,’ he explained. ‘The captain got off a mayday, and there is a ship close by.’
So that she also can be torpedoed, Anna thought, and we’ll have to go through this trauma all over again. She hugged herself over her lifejacket, and made herself work her toes, even if she had no idea if they were responding. There had been so much promise, from Bernadotte, so much support, from Clive, so much to be angry about, at the way Joe Andrews had forsaken her, all so meaningless right this minute.
Then she mentally squared her shoulders. She was alive. Supposing she didn’t lose a couple of toes, she was as fit and strong as ever, and she had a lot to do. And suddenly there was a stir in the boat, heads turning, people who had been almost somnolent from a combination of shock and cold beginning to chatter animatedly. Anna turned her own head and saw a destroyer approaching them at speed. If that is Russian, she thought . . . she would have to get rid of her bag and the incriminating identification she was carrying. Even so the outlook was grim.
She squinted into the misty morning, and saw the Swastika ensign.
*
‘Countess von Widerstand?’ The captain was clearly dumbfounded as he gazed at the bedraggled figure in the chair in his cabin. Anna was still wearing her dress and sable, but her bare feet had been encased in thick woollen stockings, and were extremely painful as circulation returned, but at least she seemed still to have all her toes. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I am very cold,’ Anna said, eyeing her shoulder bag, the contents of which had been emptied on to the captain’s desk. But if he had no doubt been taken aback by the Luger and the spare magazines, not to mention the expensive jewellery, he had also discovered the carte blanche issued by Himmler that gave her authority over just about every German soldier or sailor she was likely to meet. The questions that had to be bubbling in his brain would only be asked if he dared, and answered if she chose.
‘Of course.’ He signalled his orderly, who was hovering in the background, and a cup of steaming coffee was produced. ‘It is laced with brandy,’ he said reassuringly.
‘Thank you.’ Anna sipped, and felt the heat tracing its way down inside her chest. Beneath and around her the little ship shuddered and bounced from wave to wave; it was travelling at full speed.
‘It is a great honour, to have been able to rescue such a lady as yourself,’ the captain ventured.
‘But you would like to know how I managed to be on a Finnish ship in the middle of the Baltic Sea being torpedoed by a Russian submarine. I’m assuming that it was a Russian submarine?’
‘We think so, yes.’
‘I’m afraid I cannot answer any of your questions. I was on a secret mission for the Reich.’
‘Of course I understand that, Countess. I am just happy to be of service. Have you breakfasted?’
‘No.’
‘Then . . .’
Anna finished her coffee and held out her cup for a refill. ‘I would rather not eat right now, Herr Captain. If I could lie down for a little while . . .’
‘Of course, Countess. You shall use my bunk.’ He indicated the small sleeping cabin that lay through the doorway.
‘Thank you.’ She commenced sipping her second cup of coffee. ‘I would like my bag back, please.’
‘Of course.’ Hastily he replaced all the items he had taken ou
t. ‘You understand that I had to discover who you were.’
‘Why? Have you found out who all the other passengers are?’
‘Well, no. Not yet.’ He was embarrassed. ‘The captain of the Finnish ferry felt that there was something . . . unusual, about you.’
‘I see.’
‘And then, that is a very expensive coat you are wearing. And that jewellery . . . and then, the pistol . . .’
‘I see,’ Anna said again. ‘Tell me, now that you have discovered that I am not an international jewel thief, what are you going to do with your knowledge?’
‘Believe me, Countess, my only wish is to help you in any way possible. If you have been inconvenienced, I most humbly apologize.’
‘I do regard being torpedoed as an inconvenience, Captain. But that was not your fault. And I am most grateful for being rescued. I will make sure that you are commended.’
‘Thank you, Countess.’
Anna finished her second cup of coffee. ‘Now, I really must lie down before I fall down. What time do you expect to reach Rostock?’
‘Rostock, Countess?’
Anna had a sudden pang of indigestion. ‘Isn’t that where we’re going, Rostock?’
‘No, no, Countess. We are going to Königsberg.’
‘Would you mind saying that again?’ Anna requested. ‘Königsberg?’ That was at the eastern end of East Prussia, virtually on the far side of Poland. ‘I need to get to Berlin, as quickly as possible.’
‘I am most terribly sorry, Countess. There is no way we can possibly make Rostock, both because there is too much Russian naval activity in that area and because we lack the fuel. There is not a lot available,’ he added, ingenuously.
‘But you were out here.’
‘We were only a hundred kilometres from Königsberg when we heard your mayday call. That was the limit of our permitted patrol area. We should be in port in a couple of hours.’
Anna finished her coffee. She felt like another but getting drunk, however desirable, would not be a good idea. ‘So what happens when I get to Königsberg?’
‘I am sure that General von Hotten will see what can be done. Unfortunately, communications with Germany proper are tenuous at this time. The Russians, you see.’
‘I would like another cup of coffee,’ Anna said.
*
‘Countess!’ General von Hotten was clearly an old school professional soldier, tall and stiff-backed, with haughty features which for this occasion he had arranged into a benevolent smile, and a breastful of medal ribbons, dominated by the Knight’s Cross. ‘This is a great pleasure.’
‘I’m sure, in any other circumstances, it would be for me also,’ Anna conceded. ‘But you understand that I should not be here at all.’
‘The fortunes of war,’ the general suggested.
‘And you must also understand that I am required to be back in Berlin just as rapidly as possibly.’
He nodded. ‘Commander Roeder did say that you were in a great hurry. But, ah, well . . . you understand that Marshal Rokossovsky’s army is all around us.’
‘You mean you are surrounded, and therefore cut off?’
‘We are not yet surrounded. But it is going to happen within a week or so. They are steadily closing in.’
‘Then shouldn’t you abandon the city now, while you have the chance, and fight your way out?’
‘We cannot do that.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘We have been commanded by the Führer, personally, that we are to hold Königsberg to the last bullet and the last man.’
Anna stared at him. ‘Does that make any military sense, when you are bound to be overwhelmed?’
Hotten’s features remained urbane. ‘It may not to you, dear lady. It may not, even to me. But we must accept that we have no concept of the overall situation. Tying up Rokossovsky’s front for even a few weeks may well allow us to gain a victory elsewhere, certainly if our offensive on the Western Front is as successful as seems apparent. Besides, as I have said, it was a personal command from the Führer himself.’
‘Did you say, offensive in the West?’
‘It commenced yesterday. The plan was kept so secret that no one knew of it. But our panzers are running riot just as they did in 1940. The Americans are shattered. It is the greatest victory of the war.’
And I failed to get the news to England in time, Anna thought. But as Clive would have landed two nights ago, the news had to have got there in time. Could it be possible that her warning had not been believed?
‘So you see, Countess,’ Hotten went on, ‘it is our duty to obey our orders to the letter, confident as we are that the Führer’s military genius will take us to ultimate victory.’
Anna realized that the general’s professional loyalty was not something she could argue with. ‘I am sure you will do your duty, Herr General,’ she said. ‘But just as you must obey your orders, so must I obey mine, which are to return to Berlin with all possible haste. So if you will provide me with transport and an escort . . .’
‘That will not be possible, Countess. To get from here to the Oder you would need a brigade.’
Anna kept her cool. ‘Well, then, surely you can fly me out.’
‘The only planes I have left are half a dozen single-seater fighters for which I have hardly any fuel. I am sorry, but as you are here . . . my wife will make you as comfortable as possible, and –’ he peered at her decidedly bedraggled appearance – ‘find you some clothes to wear.’
‘You wife is here with you?’
‘Of course.’
‘And you are prepared to have her stay here until she is captured and raped and murdered by the Russians?’
‘My wife understands her duty as a German,’ he said stiffly.
‘I look forward to meeting her,’ Anna said. ‘But I also understand my duty, to the Reich. I accept that you are not in a position to help me with what you have here. So you must allow me to seek outside assistance. I assume you are in radio contact with Berlin?’
‘Of course.’
‘Well, will you send a personal message from me to the Reichsführer? Tell him that I am here with no means of leaving, and that I wish to know what he intends to do about it.’
He regarded her for several moments. Then he said, ‘You wish me to send that message to the Reichsführer?’
‘Yes,’ Anna said. ‘Immediately, if you will.’
*
‘Countess!’ Frau von Hotten held Anna’s hands. ‘This is such an honour, and a pleasure.’
‘And for me, Frau,’ Anna conceded. ‘I must apologize for my appearance.’
‘But you have been sunk!’ Hilda von Hotten was a plump middle-aged woman with red cheeks and a thrusting bosom. ‘Imagine! The freezing sea! I am amazed that you survived.’
‘I did not actually get wet,’ Anna pointed out. ‘But as you can see . . .’
She was still wearing her thick woollen socks, now sadly discoloured.
‘And your clothes . . .?’
‘Are all at the bottom of the Baltic.’
‘Oh, my dear girl. But we will take care of it.’
‘Ah . . .’ Anna eyed her hostess; she did not relish the thought of attempting any of these shapeless garments.
‘Oh, yes,’ Hilda said. ‘I will send to the shops and have a selection brought in for you to try.’
‘You still have shops?’
She had been allowed only a brief glimpse of the city on her way here from Military Headquarters, but it had struck her as being almost as badly damaged as Berlin itself.
‘Oh, yes.’ Hilda giggled. ‘A few have escaped destruction.’ She rang a bell and when a uniformed maid appeared gave the necessary instructions. ‘Now, you must relax and try to forget your ordeal. The Russians never come over until dark. So we can have a cup of tea and you must tell me all about Berlin – it’s months since I have been there – and tomorrow night I will have a supper party for our senior officers –’ she gave Anna a r
oguish smile – ‘and a few of the more handsome younger ones, to be sure. I’m afraid we will have to eat in the cellar . . .’ her gaze became anxious. ‘You will not mind this?’
‘For the last year, Frau, I have lived in a cellar.’
Hilda clapped her hands. ‘Well, then you see, you will feel perfectly at home.’
Was it possible that she did not understand the fate that was hanging over her? Anna decided that she was too intelligent for that, in which case she had to be a woman of frightening courage. What was truly frightening was the thought that there were millions of German women who had to know that their futures were bleak, where a future was attainable at all, but who were continuing to go about their lives.
So, at least as long as she was acting the part of a German woman, she had to match them. She secured a pink evening gown with matching gloves as well as a couple of new dresses and most important, some underwear, and when at dusk the air raid sirens went off she and Hilda retired to the cellars with a bottle of schnapps, where they were shortly joined by Hotten, looking hot and bothered.
‘We haven’t lost another post, dear?’ his wife asked solicitously.
‘No, no.’ He gazed at Anna. ‘I sent your message to Berlin, and have received a reply.’
Anna sipped her drink while she waited.
Hotten took the sheet of paper from his breast pocket and unfolded it. ‘I shall read it to you. It says: “Thank God you are safe. A plane will arrive for you tonight. Always yours. Heinrich.”’
He raised his head, and his wife said, ‘Oh, my!’
‘I had no idea that you were . . . well . . .’
‘The Reichsführer is my closest friend,’ Anna explained.
Frau Hotten looked scandalized. Her husband cleared his throat. ‘How he expects to get a plane in tonight . . . those bombers are escorted by fighters, and there are hundreds of them.’
‘Don’t remind me,’ Anna said. ‘But I suppose we should get to the airfield. Will you excuse me, Hilda?’
‘But . . . we were going to have a party, tomorrow night.’
‘We will have one, when next you are in Berlin.’ She actually meant that, supposing they could ever be in Berlin again, together. ‘I can’t thank you enough for all you have done for me.’
Angel of Doom (Anna Fehrback Book 5) Page 21