by Gee, Colin
“The pre-requisites for attendance here are that you must have seen active service, will remain in command of your respective units for at least the next year, and are identified as suitable for promotion. You will appreciate that many of your peers fit those criteria so it is essential that you do not waste the opportunity you have been given here this week.”
De Walle let that hang in the air for a while before pressing on.
“Your instructors have the highest credentials for this symposium, with ranks ranging from Captain to full Colonel. They will treat you with respect at all times and they will be treated with respect at all times. Regardless of what harsh lesson they hand to you, and believe me they will, you will learn much here if you are prepared to accept that those who are here to give you the knowledge, have acquired theirs under very difficult circumstances and know what they are talking about.”
There was no perceptible shift in his posture but suddenly De Walle seemed to be a foot taller and bordering on sinister, his voice taking on an edge of extreme seriousness.
“Understand this Messieurs, we cannot afford to carry people who do not contribute or are disruptive. If an instructor requests that one of you be removed then there will be no appeal, no discussion, and no delay. You will be gone, along with my written report on you and a guarantee of personal attention from a number of very important people who will not have your best interests at heart”.
A snigger punctuated the intended silence.
“That was not humour gentlemen; it was a statement of fact.”
His eyes bored into the culprit, an American Major, who got the message loud and clear.
The moment passed and De Walle relaxed back into his presentation again.
‘So, why are you here and what are we about to do? The question which all of you have been asking yourselves in one way or another since you got your joining papers.”
“It will come as no surprise to you that relations with our Soviet comrades are strained at times. Some of you will already have experience of provocations and regrettable incidents.” At least three officers nodded enough to be instantly noticeable.
“We have no reason to believe that our alliance will fail but we would be foolish not to prepare for such a failure before it is too late.”
A wave of realisation spread through everyone in the room and an anticipated boring week of army lectures on dealing with refugees or similar disappeared in a few well-chosen words from De Walle.
“I will remind you that you may take away the lessons of this symposium but not the purpose or location of it. You may not directly speak of it to anyone, ever.”
The silence and anticipation pervading the room was stifling.
“Gentlemen, you have fought the Axis powers, in some cases since 1939, and fought well, learning and evolving tactics through experience and, at times, others mistakes. It is the considered view that we would not have that luxury should the communists choose to attack us here, in Western Europe. Therefore we propose to use this symposium to give you the means to fight well again against a new enemy should you be called, means which can be trusted as they are the result of other’s learning, experience and mistakes.”
The tension was immense as some of those present grasped the true meaning of the words.
Commander Dubois strode one pace forward, smashed his heel to the stone floor, startling even the experienced combat veterans in the hall. With a voice loud enough to be heard some considerable distance away he roared “Room, room Atten-shun!”
The sound of feet slamming into stone was combined with the groaning of the heavy wooden door at the rear of the hall being pulled open by the two commandos stationed there for the purpose.
The hinges had been left un-oiled to increase the dramatic effect.
Immediately the sound of feet, marking time in perfect synchronicity, invaded the expectant silence
De Walle had seen it before, as had Dubois, for the act had been carefully rehearsed, although granted that on those occasions not all the props had been to hand. What both saw now reminded them of the mettle and worth of the symposium members.
Through the hall the sound of marching feet gathered volume and reverberated as, without verbal command, Knocke sent in the members of “Biarritz”.
The echo of their precise steps around the stonewalls grew in volume until it seemed to some that a regiment was bearing down upon the occupants.
De Walle noticed the looks on the assembled faces as it became apparent to all that a squad of eight German officers was marching to the front to take a position in front of the podium. Some faces were incredulous, some were shocked, and one or two were darkened by hatred. The barely audible Texas-twanged comment of “they’re fucking krauts” was totally unnecessary.
The eight officers, resplendent in full uniform, complete with medals, belts and headgear, split precisely in front of the podium, forming four either side with their backs to the candidates. On an unspoken command, they turned and took a position of attention. Before them, the candidates seemed confused and unsure of what their reaction should really be. The array of awards on the German officer’s uniforms was indicative of huge experience, personal bravery, and most certainly competence.
Nevertheless, they were German uniforms, and some were even SS, although all noticed the eagles removed and the flags of Germany and France embroidered into a curious badge worn in the eagle’s stead.
All of that being said, they were not prepared for Knocke.
Again, they became aware of a single set of precise military steps marching down the centre of the room and a man in black uniform moved past, stopping in front of the podium and saluting De Walle formally in the accepted style. Knocke, with no overt surprise, noted the Frenchman’s uniform and rank, then mounted the podium and took the central position, ceded to him very deliberately by De Walle.
He turned and paused the required time before his leg shot out into the “at ease” in precise timing with that of his men and Dubois, as all assumed the position.
It was De Walle’s idea that he should now pause and let the vision of his presence and bearing take some effect before delivering his most important words of welcome.
For a man who had faced the perils of the Russian Front, it surprised Knocke that he was actually nervous, but he felt confident it would pass.
“Gentlemen, welcome to Symposium Biarritz. Please be seated”
It was an innocuous start but an extremely important one, especially as every man before him instantly sat on the word of a German officer, displaying response and acknowledgement of Knocke’s authority, whilst quietly remaining focussed on the immaculate soldierly vision to their front.
“My name is Knocke, formerly a Colonel of tank troops in the Army of Germany. General De Walle informs me that any further introduction is superfluous, as you will all know of me. The other officers before you have also served in different areas and achieved different things and they will be introduced shortly.”
“What we all have in common is that we have met the Russian and we have killed him in great numbers. He is a deadly enemy, an implacable enemy who possesses infinite resources and manpower. His methods are ones you have not met before and the purpose of this symposium is to give you input that will allow you to make informed judgements in the event that your home countries go to war with the Soviet Union.”
A statement like that requires a period of silence to let it sink in, so Knocke halted and watched realisation spread across the faces in front of him.
“We have skills, and we will teach you willingly, for communism threatens what is left of our homeland just as it threatens yours, no matter how far away you may live. Yes, we were defeated by the Russian but do not imagine for one moment that was because we lacked the skills to beat him, for we did not and, importantly, do not.”
“We are here because we volunteered for this and believe in the aims of this symposium.”
“You may not like us and we must
accept that. But what we will not accept is failure, and so we must ALL set aside our personal feelings”, the emphasis on ‘all’ was very marked on each occasion, “And ALL remember that our time here, yours and ours, serves the greater purpose of protecting ALL our countries if the worst fears are realised.”
And in a departure of tone which sounded more like conversation “For my part, I believe it is not a case of if, but when.”
“General De Walle?” Knocke enquired as he smartly stepped aside to relinquish the prime position.
It had been decided that too much at the first encounter could prove counter-productive, so it was planned that Knocke’s delivery would be the end of the beginning and the introductions of the rest of “Biarritz” would occur once the shock had worn off.
However, De Walle had decided to have a small departure from the rehearsed performance and started into it.
“Before the symposium members leave us and I invite your questions I must say this.”
Knocke remained looking straight ahead, as did the rest of the Germans, but De Walle could sense some confusion in the change. This time his mental note was a plus to him for putting one over on Knocke. His inner smile worked its way to his face before he realised it, but he kept it there in any case as it was appropriate.
“The men stood before you today were your enemies. This time last year, you would have tried to kill them, as they would have tried to kill you. Today our fight with them is over. Yes, they were beaten and they surrendered to the allied forces, with their country occupied and their army destroyed.” He knew that would hurt Knocke and his men but felt it needed to be said. “But mark my words they did not lose through their inability or a lack of courage and skill, and all of you here have fought them and will know the worth of the German soldier, a soldier who is as good today as he has always been. If you doubt that then I suggest that you take a long hard look at Colonel Knocke.”
“A long hard look.” A statement, the delivery of which dared the listener to look away for a second.
Eyes scanned Knocke from head to foot and understood.
“All of you knew the name Knocke before it was spoken here today. Why? Because the man is a legend, a legend earned in the harshest schools of combat and a legend from which you now have the opportunity to learn.”
“Major.”
Again, the crash of Dubois boot to the stone slabs startled some as he called the room to attention. The response was instant and De Walle, acknowledging Knocke’s salute once more, knew that they had done well.
The precision continued without orders as Knocke marched between his men and each moved off in perfect step in turn until the group was again in column and well out into the hall.
The door whined in protest as it closed and then shut with a theatrical bang. Dubois shot his foot out into the at ease position and De Walle looked quizzically at the stunned men in front of him before posing a challenge to the ensemble with the simple line “Any questions?”
To his greatest surprise, there were none.
Moreover, in the brief history of Symposium Biarritz, there never ever were.
In the trophy room outside, the closure of the door signalled the halt of the symposium’s march. Knocke dismissed the parade with a quiet flourish. All relaxed and grins were exchanged.
“Danke Kameraden. I think that went rather well. Now the real work begins.”
All our knowledge merely helps us to die a more painful death than animals that know nothing.
Maurice Maeterlinck
Chapter 19 – THE ERRORS
1103 hrs Saturday, 21st July 1945, The Kremlin, Moscow, USSR.
Beria held the message out to his leader and could not conceal his glee. Stalin did not take it but read Beria’s mind and posture instead.
“So your agent is not lost to the Motherland, Lavrentiy?”
It was not a question. Beria felt deflated that he was so transparent to the General Secretary.
“It would appear not, as authentication code is correct, and there is no compromisation indicated.”
“Therefore we can assume the Turkish difficulty has not affected Alkonost?”
“I would say not, but we are in the process of finding out exactly what our issues may be.”
“Keep me up to date.” Stalin moved on.
“So your informed view of this message is?”
“Confirmation of the failure reported by two other agents Comrade General Secretary, and additional news of some note that will need confirmation.”
Stalin looked up and took the paper, running his eyes over it and greedily consuming the contents. Even the dictator could not hide his happiness with the contents.
The message read:-
‘[priority code] SDD
[agent] Alkonost
[date code] 160745c
[personal code as an authenticator] FB21162285
[distribution1] route x-eyes only
[distribution1] AalphaA [Comrade Chairman Beria].
[message] test failed. A+ self observed. Reliable reports B+ many scientist deaths. Train-Snake.
[message ends]
Message authenticates. Codes for non-compromisation valid.
RECEIVED 09:19 21/7/45-B.V.LEMSKY’
“So this failure Lavrentiy? Our agents or their inefficiency? Do we know?”
“Neither Alkonost, Gamayun, nor Kalibr reports indicate action on the part of the agent but all three messages have been brief. It is possible that it could be modesty on the part of an agent of course, but I would have expected credit to be claimed, however brief the message.”
Beria offered an explanation.
“I can imagine there is much consternation in the Amerikanisti project, so possibly our agents have sent short messages for their own security.”
“Only Alkonost mentions casualties but the reliability seems reasonable. We will know more later.”
Stalin pushed a little harder.
“So I was correct. No need to trouble our military after all.”
“That would appear to be so, Comrade General Secretary. Their project is now stalled and, if the report of casualties is true then we may even find our own research proves fruitful before theirs. That is a thought to sustain the revolutionary heart comrade!”
“Indeed it is Comrade Marshall” and what passed for a laugh escaped the dictator’s lips.
Recently Beria’s position had been cosmetically changed from Chairman to Marshall and he had difficulty getting used to the idea, and the uniform for that matter. The suit he wore today made him feel more the part.
“Now I must receive a delegation from the Urals factories. A necessary evil.”
“I will inform your staff that you are free on my way out Comrade General Secretary.”
Beria did so as he passed through the anteroom, his mind already wrestling with his next problem. Hopefully Comrade Philby’s timely Turkish present was already singing, but it was already clear from Philby’s report that no information had been handed over. Therefore, Beria’s men were just going through the motions of interrogation before disposing of the traitor.
By the time Beria had the thought, Volkov’s body was already stiffening, his interrogation and torture completed in record time as his liaison with the British was already well-documented. He took the crucial secret of his fruitless liaison with the US with him to his cold and silent grave.
1400 hrs Saturday, 21st July 1945, The Château du Haut-Kœnigsbourg, French Alsace.
It was on this morning that Anne-Marie Valois broke the news to Von Arnesen that his son had been killed in the fighting during the last days of resistance in Berlin. There remained no news of his wife.
At precisely 1400 hrs, Knocke and De Walle adjourned to the Frenchman’s private office to discuss the submitted reports for the first week of the symposium. Overall, it had been a huge success, with the allied soldiers accepting the input of the Germans grudgingly at first but with increasing thirst for knowledge as they began to
appreciate the abilities and experiences of their teachers.
Both Kriegspeils had been Symposium victories, but the second had been a remarkably close run thing.
The sole problem had been the arrogant and mouthy American Major Parker, who constantly tried to undermine the sessions with snide comments, despite being verbally slapped into place by his peers. His lack of humility in the august company he kept that week caused more than one of his fellow officers to take him to one side.
The report on his attendance accurately reflected his conduct, and more damningly, his lack of tactical ability. It was sent to his Divisional Commander, complete with the note of abject apology handed to De Walle by a very embarrassed Major Hardegen, also of the 4th US Armored Division.
Hardegen was at the other end of the scale to Parker, quiet, unassuming but exceptionally competent in the military arts, and Knocke and his men were glowing in their praise for the man’s ability. Together with Commandant St.Clair of the 1e [Premiere] Division Française Libre, Hardegen had received the best possible report Knocke felt he could give.
De Walle reasoned that it was important for the symposium members to feel their reports were being properly viewed, so he followed the progress of Parker’s negative evaluation all the way.
Over breakfast the following Saturday he announced that the Major had been transferred from his combat division, with a loss of seniority, into a training battalion due to undertake strenuous retraining exercises.
Whilst that only elicited nodded responses from the ensemble, De Walle knew the news had the desired effect upon his present company.
As he ate his mountain of food, he was satisfied that the Parker problem had been properly addressed.
Unfortunately, an embittered Major Parker still had a part to play in the future of Symposium Biarritz.