The Kammersee Affair

by John Holt

  The weather continued to worsen. The rain became heavier, and the thunder became louder. Kadowski thought about Roberts, and the others, lying on the ground by the lakeside, in the rain. Tough as he was, a tear came into his eye. He quickly brushed it away; he didn’t want the others to see. There was a flash of lightning, and the rain seemed too increase. He broke into a run toward the building. As he reached the entrance he signalled the others to go in out of the rain. Just in time, as the rainfall came down in torrents. They entered the building, and Kadowski shut the door behind him. Once inside they all started to ask questions at the same time.

  “What happened to Terry?” said Scott.

  “Who is this guy we captured?” asked Bartelli.

  “What were the gunshots we heard?” asked Bannister

  “Guys, guys, slow down,” Kadowski tried to calm them. “Let’s find a room somewhere. Perhaps we can rustle up some coffee, and maybe something to eat. Then I’ll tell you the whole story.”

  Their own rations were limited, but some food stocks were found in the Centre’s kitchen area. Scott and Bartelli made coffee, and prepared some sandwiches. They then went into one of the office areas. “Okay, sit down, and we’ll get on,” said Kadowski. “Incidentally, where is the prisoner?”

  “He’s fine, he is locked in one of the storage rooms below us,” said Scott. “There are no windows, but there is a ventilation duct. He’s fairly comfortable.”

  “Bannister and I took him something to eat, and drink,” said Bartelli.

  “Has he said anything?” Kadowski wanted to know.

  Scott replied that he had said nothing, apart from name, rank and serial number. “His name is Deitrich Hartman. And get this he is a Major in the SS. That’s right, the SS. He also said that he was stationed here, at this testing complex.”

  “An SS Officer, that’s all we need,” Bartelli exclaimed. “I hope he’s alone.”

  Another little piece of the puzzle fell into place in Kadowski’s mind. “I can assure you all that he is completely alone,” he said.

  “How can you be so sure?” Bannister asked.

  “Yes sarge, how do you know that?” Scott asked.

  “All right everyone, quieten down,” Kadowski was determined to get some kind of order. “We have a lot to consider, so I’ll get on.”

  The rest became silent immediately. They were intrigued not only by Kadowski’s words, but also by his whole manner. He was serious, deliberate, yet careful with his phrasing. Not like the Sergeant at all. Kadowski sat silent for a moment, wondering where to begin. He thought of Roberts and the sound of the bullet that struck him down. The tears came back to his eyes. This time he did not brush it away. He left it to unashamedly run down his cheek. It was a poignant moment that did not go un-noticed by his friends.

  Kadowski made himself comfortable, and took a gulp of the coffee. It wasn’t bad considering it was best Nazi Ersatz coffee, made from acorns, or something similar. Anyway it was hot, and sweet, and satisfied a need. “Now fellows,” he said. “We have a lot to get through, so pay attention, and don’t interrupt. Save all of your questions until the end.”

  Firstly he set the scene, and described the lake they had seen, and the surroundings. “About a half a mile through those woods, there’s another lake,” he started to explain. “Lake Kammersee.”

  Kadowski wasn’t too good at this kind of thing. Giving orders was one thing, but this was completely different. Bartelli was getting nervous, and impatient, and shuffled in his seat. What Kadowski said next however, got Bartelli’s complete and undivided attention.

  “Lying next to the lake shore is our friend Private Terry Roberts, killed by a single bullet to the chest, and another to the shoulder. The bullets were fired by our prisoner, SS Major Deitrich Hartman.”

  Scott leapt forward, seething with anger. He could not control himself, “I’ll kill the swine,” he shouted. He jumped from his chair, and rushed to the door, his pistol already clear of his holster.

  “Hold it,” yelled Kadowski, grabbing Scott’s arm. There was a momentary struggle, and Scott was pinned against the door. “Calm down, Scott,” Kadowski ordered. “Things are a bit more complicated and we need to consider our actions carefully.” Scott wondered what that remark meant, but he sensed Kadowski’s mood, and kept quiet. He shrugged free, holstered his revolver, and sat back down.

  Bartelli smiled at him, by way of encouragement, and understanding, and tapped him on the shoulder. “It’ll be okay, George,” he said. “Take it easy. Let’s see what the Sarge has got to say.”

  “Apart from Roberts, there are four German soldiers lying by that lake,” Kadowski continued. He paused, waiting for the reaction of the guys to subside. “They were also shot by Major Hartman. Shot did I say? Murdered is a better word.” Kadowski explained the circumstances of their deaths. The others were stunned into silence. “I’m not exactly sure why they were murdered, but that is exactly what happened.” The others could hardly believe what they were hearing, but they knew when the Sergeant was being serious, and now was one of those times. “I believe that the death of those soldiers was connected, in some way, with the remains of some timber crates that were close by.”

  Bannister could not keep quiet any longer. His patience was running extremely thin. “Crates, what crates?”

  “Hey Sarge, can we get on? I’m getting old here, my youth’s going fast,” Bartelli said joining in.

  “Okay guys, I’m getting there.” Kadowski choose his words carefully, fully aware of the impact they would have. “I believe that the crates had originally contained gold bullion. Gold bars taken from the Deutche Reichbank in Berlin.”

  There was complete and utter silence, broken by a question from Bartelli. “Sarge, why do you think that?”

  The Sergeant looked straight at Bartelli, shrugged his shoulders. “Clever deduction, due to years of training, and superior brain power,” he said. “Plus the fact that quite clearly stamped on one of the timbers are the words Deutsche Reichbank, Berlin.”

  The group broke into spontaneous laughter. Bartelli wondered what the joke was. Nobody bothered to explain it.

  As the laughter died down, Kadowski continued, “I intend to find that gold, and then to hide it in a different place, to be recovered later, by us.” At this the group once again fell into silence.

  Eventually, Bartelli put into words, what everyone was thinking. “Do you have a plan, Sarge?”

  Kadowski had to admit that he did not have a plan at that precise moment, but one was needed fairly soon. He was hoping for some ideas from the rest. All four sat in total silence.

  “Shouldn’t we be making a report to headquarters?” Bannister suddenly asked.

  “Correct,” said Kadowski. “We should, but what do we tell them? We can’t say too much, otherwise too many questions will be raised. Certainly we must report on the death of Terry, and the others. In fact we will have to say that Terry got killed at the same time and place as the others.” He waited for a response from the others, but there wasn’t any. “But we can’t mention anything about the dead German soldiers, or anything about their killer.”

  “What?” Scott interjected. “You have to mention it. Terry was killed. We have the killer as our prisoner. What are you going to do, let him go?”

  “Look, just think for a moment,” said Kadowski. “As far as we are concerned there is no Major Hartman, there are no dead German soldiers, and there is definitely no gold. Understand?”

  Not fully understanding the situation, the others let Kadowski continue. “If we mention the dead soldiers, and the involvement of Major Hartman, an SS Officer, the MP’s will be all over the place. You can bet your life that if there were any gold, it would quickly be discovered and shipped to Washington. We wouldn’t get a look in. Am I right, or am I right?”

  The others looked at each other. The Sergeant was right, absolutely. The situation was beginning to sink in, the possible implications becoming clearer.

 
; “What do you propose, Sarge?” asked Bannister.

  “Firstly, the German soldiers must be disposed of,” Kadowski replied. “Quite simply, I suggest that we place them in the lake, and sink them,” Kadowski watched the group’s reaction. It was clear that Bartelli was uncomfortable with this idea. He was more sensitive than the rest. “I know that this sounds a little unfeeling, but at least it will be quick. We can always say a few words, and a prayer, okay.” Bartelli reluctantly agreed.

  “What about, Terry?” asked Scott.

  “Terry died, along with Reynolds, Chandler and Morris. All killed in action. We commit their bodies to the deep.”

  Scott started to object. “They should have a proper burial,” he retorted.

  “Don’t you think I would like that too?” said Kadowski. “We just don’t have the time. You do see that don’t you?” Kadowski looked around at the others, pleading for understanding. They said nothing, but silently they had to agree with him.

  “That’s it then,” said Kadowski. “All four died at Lake Toplitzsee. We have never heard of Lake Kammersee. Everybody got that?”

  “Okay Sarge, we get it,” Scott speaking for the rest of the group. He then looked around at the others, and started nervously twiddling his thumbs.

  “All right, what’s on your mind?” said Kadowski. “Let’s have it.”

  “You seem to have thought of everything, Sarge,” said Scott. “What about Hartman, what do we do with him?”

  “He has to be killed,” said Kadowski, slowly, and in a whisper. There was no feeling, or emotion in his voice. “We have no choice.” He finished his coffee, stood up and walked to the window. He looked out. The rain had stopped at last. It was beginning to get dark. He checked his watch, 20.45 hours. They really must check in soon. He was surprised that headquarters hadn’t tried to reach them long ago. Behind him he was aware that a discussion was taking place. It was clear that there was a difference of opinion. Scott was strongly in favour of Hartman dying. He was prepared to carry out the execution there and then. Kadowski was not surprised. Scott and Roberts had been great friends, and had gone through a lot together. Bartelli seemed to be against Hartman being killed. This did not surprise Kadowski either. Bartelli always tried to be fair, and just. Killing somebody in battle was one thing. He didn’t like it, but it had to be done. It was a case of his life or theirs. But to kill somebody in cold blood, that was different. That was murder, and he was no murderer, not even for a ton of gold.

  “Sarge,” Bartelli came over to the window, and stood beside Kadowski. The Sergeant turned to face him. “It seems to me that it might be difficult, if not impossible to find that gold.”

  “You may be right,” said Kadowski. “Go on.”

  “Well maybe Hartman could be a big help to us. It stands to reason he must know where the gold is hidden, and was planning on getting it himself.”

  “Maybe,” replied Kadowski. “So what’s your point?”

  “Let’s talk to him, and find out the location of the gold. We could promise him a share.”

  Scott sat quietly thinking. He then spoke out, his tone hard and aggressive. “Oh yes we’ll talk to him all right. We’ll find out where the gold is for sure. But he still dies, and I’m still prepared to do it, if nobody else wants to.” As he said that he was staring hard at Bartelli.

  “Okay guys, take it easy,” Kadowski interjected trying to calm things down. “It doesn’t serve any purpose to fight amongst ourselves.” He thought for a moment. “Okay, we’ll interrogate Hartman. We might learn something worthwhile, but first we better make our report. Now are we all agreed at what we say?”

  Bannister was not at all convinced that there was any gold. Nonetheless the thought of finding crates of gold, and returning home with it, certainly appealed to him. Back home to Centerville. Hicksville he called it, Small town, nowhere Ville. He would go back a rich man. They would really look up to him then. Wouldn’t that be something? He looked across at Kadowski. “Agreed,” he replied simply.

  Bartelli was used to the Army deciding things for him. He looked at Kadowski, and agreed. Scott said nothing, but sat staring. He wasn’t interested in the gold. He didn’t even believe that there was any gold, anyway. He had other things on his mind, and nothing else matter.

  “Okay, that’s it. Let’s get on. Bartelli get on the radio, and send the message, as agreed,” instructed Kadowski. He then turned to Bannister. “Bannister, you go and find Hartman, bring him here.”

  Scott stood up. “I’ll go.”

  “Stay where you are,” Kadowski ordered, and there was no mistaking his mood. Scott sat down. Bannister left the room to fetch Hartman.

  * * *

  A short time later, Bannister returned, without him. “He’s not there, the door was wide open. I couldn’t believe it,” said Bannister. “He’s gone.”

  Scott leapt up, and walked toward Bannister, menacingly. “Gone, how can he be gone? He was locked in, I did it myself.” He stopped, and reached into the top pocket of his tunic. “Look, here’s the key.”

  “Take it easy. I don’t know how he got away, all right,” said Bannister. “So just cool it, will ya?”

  Scott was angry. He turned to Bartelli. “You took him something to eat, didn’t you?” he said. “Did you lock the door properly afterwards?”

  “Yes I did,” said Bartelli indignantly. “Anyway, Bannister was with me, remember.”

  “The door was locked, firm,” Bannister said emphatically. “I checked it myself right after Tony took out the key. It was locked, good and tight.”

  “And when we got back here, I gave the key straight back to George,” Bartelli added.

  “So how come he’s not in the room?” said Scott. “How come the door was wide open?”

  “I don’t know,” said Bartelli. “All I do know is that I closed the door, and I locked it.”

  “You couldn’t have,” Scott said angrily.

  “I locked it I tell you,” said Bartelli.

  Scott opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by Kadowski. “Okay guys, whether the door was locked or not, there’s nothing we can do about it now.” He sounded almost pleased. “It’s probably for the best anyway. Saves us the bother of dealing with him, you know what I mean.”

  Scott knew what he meant, but was far from pleased. “Let’s get after him,” said Scott, making for the door.

  “Hold it George, just stay where you are,” ordered Kadowski. “We don’t know when he actually escaped. He has probably got several hours start. We don’t know which direction he would have taken.”

  “Back towards Germany,” Scott interrupted. “That’s the direction he would go.”

  “Maybe,” said Kadowski unconvinced. “Nonetheless we could never track him in the forest, at night.”

  “You’re right Sarge,” said Bannister. “I think we’ve seen the last of Major Hartman.”

  “I hope so, said Bartelli.

  Scott, however, was thinking quite the opposite. No, Major Hartman had not seen the last of him, not by a long way.

  “How did he get past us?” Scott asked. “We should have heard him going passed the door.”

  “Well we never, did we?” said Kadowski. “Maybe there’s another way out that we don’t know. It doesn’t matter now. I suggest we forget all about Major Hartman.”

  Scott wasn’t going to forget.

  * * *

  The following morning Bannister, Bartelli, Scott and Kadowski returned to Lake Kammersee. The first thing to do was the burial of the four German soldiers. Kadowski had no firm ideas as to what needed to be done, but whatever it was it would be carried out with as much respect and dignity as was possible.

  It was decided that they would place the bodies into the lake, weighing them down, so that they sank. Kadowski would read a few words from the New Testament that he carried with him. And that would be that.

  The bodies were weighted down with debris taken from the test centre. Slowly, carefully
, the bodies were placed into the lake, and held in place, whilst Kadowski read a short scripture. The bodies were then let go, and they sank into the dark still waters.

  Next they turned their attention to Private Roberts. Once again the body was weighted down, and placed in the lake. Kadowski read from his Bible. Bartelli stepped forward and offered a prayer. The body was then allowed to sink below the surface.

  Now that they had said their farewells to their friend, they could commence their preliminary search for the gold. Kadowski told the others to spread out and look for any possible clues. Nobody knew exactly what that meant. In a search for gold bullion what exactly would you be looking for?

  “How should I know?” yelled Kadowski, a little irritably. “I’ve never looked for gold bullion before, have I? Anything unusual I suppose.” That was a little vague he realised, but he couldn’t think of anything better to say. The other two looked at each other. They then moved apart, and started to search, although they weren’t exactly sure what it was that they were looking for.

  Kadowski thought that perhaps there could be a clue at the spot where the soldiers were killed. He walked over to the edge of the lake, trying to find something that might be of use. He wasn’t sure what he hoped to find, but there wasn’t anything, as far as he could tell. He walked down to the edge of the lake hoping that there would be some indication, some sign, but drew a blank. He looked again at the long gouge in the shoreline, that he had noticed the previous day.

  What was it? It was certainly not a natural feature, and was obviously man made. It occurred to Kadowski that it had probably been formed relatively recently. The water from the lake, and the recent heavy rainfall, would almost certainly have washed the marks away, and restored the land back to its original state. No, it had to be recent, and was almost certainly connected with those German troops. He still had no idea what had caused the gouge, or whether it was significant. He walked down to the shoreline, and took a closer look. He realised that there were two similar marks. He had not noticed the other mark before. One was quite deep, the other barely causing an indentation in the soil. Nonetheless he concluded that the marks had been made by the same object.