by John Holt
“What happened as you arrived in the area?” asked the Lieutenant.
“We came under attack, sir,” Kadowski replied. “A small detachment of German soldiers started firing. Chandler, Reynolds and Morris were killed instantly.”
“Sergeant, I understand that Private Roberts was also killed on that day,” said the Lieutenant. “By enemy fire during that same gun battle at Lake Toplitzsee. Is that correct?”
“Yes sir, Private Roberts as well,” answered Kadowski.
“Is it also correct that your formal report was confirmed by Corporal Bannister, Private Bartelli, and Private Scott?”
“It is sir,” replied Kadowski.
The Lieutenant picked up a sheet of paper. “Sergeant, I know that this event happened a long time ago. But can you remember what happened to Private Roberts’ identification discs. They were never returned.”
“Identification discs?”
“Yes Sergeant. His dog tags,” the Lieutenant replied. “The tags belonging to Chandler, Reynolds and Morris were all returned, but not those belonging to Roberts. I merely wondered why that was?”
“Oh I see, sir.” The Sergeant wondered where this was leading, but foresaw no problems. I have no idea what happened to those tags. No idea at all. Then suddenly it occurred to him that Roberts should have been wearing his tags. In that case they would now be around his neck, at the bottom of the lake. Kadowski was gradually becoming more confident.
“Sadly Private Roberts fell into the lake after he was shot,” replied Kadowski. “The weight of his pack must have dragged him down, and we were unable to recover his body. We were still under heavy enemy fire at that time. As far as I can recall sir, he was wearing his tags at that time. They must have sunk into the lake with him.”
“Thank you Sergeant, that sounds reasonable,” said the Lieutenant. “However, there is one thing that worries me.” He picked up some photographs, and handed them to the Sergeant. “Would you look at those photographs, Sergeant? They show the dog tags belonging to Private Roberts. One tag clearly shows his serial number, although two of the numbers have been damaged due to corrosion. The other has been completely obliterated, we presume, by a bullet. Have you any comments?”
“Well sir, it seems to me that the bullet must have been fired by the enemy soldiers,” said Kadowski. “It was probably the same bullet that actually killed Terry, sir. It is possible, I suppose, that the force of the bullet caused the tags to be thrown off of his body, into the undergrowth. At that time I’m afraid the last thing on my mind would have been dog tags, sir.”
“Yes Sergeant, I can understand that. And certainly I agree that what you say, in connection with the tags, is perfectly feasible. In fact, I would say that it was quite a reasonable explanation. There is one point, however, that needs to be clarified.” He stopped and took something out of the top pocket of his tunic, Robert’s identification discs.
He held them up. “The only problem, Sergeant, is that these tags were discovered at Lake Kammersee, and not Lake Toplitzsee.”
The Lieutenant stopped, and looked at Kadowski’s face. Before allowing Kadowski to answer, he had another question to put. “Sergeant Kadowski, I would now like to ask you a few questions about Private George Scott.”
Kadowski nodded his head, but said nothing.
“You are aware that Private Scott died as a result of a shot fired by a German policeman?”
“No sir,” replied Kadowski. “Tom Bannister told me a few years ago that George was dead. Shortly after it happened I think. That was all, I didn’t know any details.”
The Lieutenant started to tap the paper that he was holding. “Then you will not be aware of the actual circumstances of his death?”
“No sir,” Kadowski answered.
“He was shot by German police whilst trying to avoid capture,” said the Lieutenant. “He was attempting to get across the Danish border.” Kadowski’s face was ashen. “He had previously killed a policeman in Hamburg. Prior to that there had been another man killed,” the Lieutenant continued, carefully watching Kadowski’s face.
“Sergeant do you know of a Major in the SS, by the name of Deitrich Hartman?” The Lieutenant allowed for the full impact of the question to strike home.
“Why do you think Private Scott would wish to kill this man?” The Lieutenant sat back in his chair, watching Kadowski’s reaction.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kadowski Makes A Statement
They know the whole story, Kadowski thought. I don’t know how, but they know. At the very least they know the basis. Even if he could find a way out, which he had to admit he could not. There really was no point going on with it.
How could he possibly answer those questions? There’s nothing to be gained by further deception. Not now, what would be the point, to what purpose? Further lies were pointless. Maybe the others had already told the full story? He couldn’t blame them if they had. It had been a long time to live with this secret, ten long years. No, now was the time to make a full confession, a clean sweep.
It was time to tell the whole story from beginning to end. He looked up to the ceiling. After a few moments he looked back at the Lieutenant, he was ready.
“Sir, up until this point you have been subjected to a series of untruths,” he said. “I originally misled the United States Army, almost ten years ago, when I filed a false report regarding the death of Private Roberts. That story, admittedly confirmed by my fellow soldiers, was a lie. That confirmation had been instigated by myself, and was also untrue. The story has been perpetuated by subsequent lies here, today. That is going to stop here and now.”
Kadowski looked around the room. The others remained completely silent. “With your permission I would like to make a full truthful statement regarding exactly what happened on that day, 4th March 1945, at Lake Toplitzsee, and Lake Kammersee.”
* * *
Some forty five minutes later the Sergeant finished his narrative. He had included every detail, and nothing had been left out. As he finished he took some water, and sat back in his chair. “If you have any questions, sir, I will be happy to answer them.”
“Thank you Sergeant, thank you very much,” replied the Lieutenant. He collected his papers together, and looked across at the Major. “Sir, I have no further questions for the Sergeant.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” said the Major. He moved his chair nearer to the table, and turned to face Kadowski. “Thank you for your candour, Sergeant. I am sure that this has been quite difficult for you. Your testimony will prove immensely helpful. The file will now be given to the Military Police who will carry out further investigations. It is possible that they may have further questions for you.”
“Yes sir,” said Kadowski, looking down at the edge of the table.
“The final papers will then be passed to the Judge Advocate’s office, for review and possible prosecution,” the Major continued. “Do you understand what that might mean?”
Kadowski raised his head and looked at the Major. “Yes sir, I do,” he replied simply.
“Before concluding these proceedings, have you anything you wish to say. Anything you may wish to add to your statement?”
Kadowski looked at the Major, and nodded. “Thank you for the opportunity, sir,” he replied. “Yes I would like to say something.”
He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, trying to think of the right words. “Sir, the guys, it’s not their fault. They shouldn’t be blamed.” Kadowski was stumbling, falling over his words, unsure of himself. He looked down at his hands, in contemplation. Then suddenly he was sure of what he would say. He looked back at the three people seated opposite.
“Sir, what happened, all those years ago, at Kammersee was entirely my fault. The cover up was solely my idea. I planned it from the start to finish. It was instigated for no other reason but my own greed for the gold, my own selfishness. It was wrong, I know that now. To be honest I probably knew it to be wrong at the time, but I
can’t turn the clock back. I wish I could.”
“The others, Scott, Bannister and Bartelli, should not be blamed in any way. They have done nothing for which they should be reproached. They did not support me out of greed for the gold. In fact I’m not even sure that they believed that there was any gold. No sir, they followed me out of pure loyalty to me, and for no other reason. A greater bunch of men it would be hard to find. I’m proud to call them comrades, companions. I’m proud to say that they are my good, true friends. I respectfully request that it be fully recorded that what happened was my fault, and my fault alone, and nobody else’s. Thank you, sir.”
The Major looked to his secretary. She nodded, confirming that the statement had been recorded in full. He then looked at the Lieutenant, and then looked back at the Sergeant. “Thank you, Sergeant. Your statement has been very welcome. It has been duly noted, and will be fully taken into account.”
He turned his gaze back toward the Lieutenant, as he continued “I feel sure that what you have said will have a great impact as far as the others are concerned. I believe that it is safe to say that their records will not be blemished in any way. I will certainly do all in my power to ensure that they are not prosecuted.”
“Sergeant,” said the Major. “You must have been an exceptional leader. The loyalty shown to you by Bannister and Bartelli, and Scott before his death, misplaced though it was, indicates their tremendous feeling and respect for you. You are a very fortunate man.”
Kadowski looked at the two men sitting in front of him, his eyes glistening. Both are good, true, honest men. They were fair, but just, compassionate, and merciful. They knew all about right and wrong, but they also understood all of the grey areas in between. If anyone was to stand in judgement over him, he was glad that these two would be part of the process. He sat upright, as though at attention. “Thank you, sir.”
“Thank you Sergeant,” said the Major. “That will be all for now.” He signaled over to the MP who stepped forward and took hold of the handle of Kadowski’s wheelchair. He gently turned the chair around, and walked through the open door, back into the corridor, and returned to the waiting area.
* * *
Forty five minutes later Bartelli, Bannister, Kadowski, and Kadowski’s daughter were seated in the lounge of the Morrison Hotel. They had found a quiet table in the far corner, where they were unlikely to be disturbed, or overheard. Bannister had ordered lunch.
“So he actually did it?” said Bartelli. “I don’t know how, but George actually found that Nazi, hunted him down, and killed him.”
“I knew that something would happen, something bad,” said Kadowski. “I should have stopped him, that day at Rooney’s bar. I failed.”
“You can’t blame yourself, Frank,” said Bannister. “We were all there that day. None of us were that concerned, apart from yourself. We all failed him.”
“I could have done more,” said Kadowski emphatically. “I should have done more. You’re right I was concerned. I could see it coming. Still I did nothing.”
“Frank, there’s nothing you, or I, or anyone else, could have done,” said Bannister, trying to calm him. “None of us believed that he would do such a thing. What do you think, Tony?”
“I still can’t believe it,” said Bartelli. “I never really thought he meant to do anything like that. I thought he was just talking. You know what I mean. I knew that he was taking Terry’s death very hard, but it was just talk, that’s all.”
For a while they sat silently. The waiter came to the table with their lunch order. He placed the items on the table in front of them. “Will there be anything else?” he asked. Nothing else was required at that time, and he moved away.
“Guys,” said Kadowski breaking the silence. “I told the hearing the whole story, the true story.”
“What do you mean, Frank?” Bartelli asked.
“I’ve told them everything,” Kadowski replied. “The truth about how Terry died. I’ve told them all about Hartman, the dead German troops, and the gold bars. They know the whole thing, start to finish.”
Kadowski looked at each man in turn, and then at his daughter. “I should have told the truth from the very beginning,” he said. “If I had George might still be alive now.”
“Frank,” said Bartelli gently. “What’s going to happen now?”
“I don’t know the answer to that one. All I know is that I have accepted the full blame, for everything,” Kadowski replied. “I made a plea for you and Tom, and George.”
“But we went along with you,” protested Bannister. “We are as much to blame as you.”
“That’s right,” insisted Bartelli. “We never said anything, or tried to change your mind, did we? We’re in it with you.”
“Thanks guys, nice try,” Kadowski replied. “I’ve told the Major that it was entirely my idea, and mine alone. So there it is. I don’t think anything will happen to you two.” He stopped for a moment. “As for me, I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
A Surprise Visit
Six weeks later an official military car drew up outside a weather-boarded house, at the edge of the town. As it did so a small crowd began to gather, curious to know what was happening. The car stopped, and the engine was switched off. The uniformed chauffeur got out of the car, and walked around to the passenger door. He opened the door, and saluted smartly as the occupant stepped out.
Major Barnes shivered, and pulled his topcoat closer to him. It was a cold day for late September, with a slight frost in the air. There was a fresh wind blowing from the north, across the fields opposite. He looked up at the sky. It was dull, and overcast. Winter may be a little early this year.
He started to walk slowly toward the house. After a few steps he stopped. He stood for a while looking at the house. Although not small, it was not a very large house. Well looked after, he thought, and recently decorated. He looked up at the roof, and noticed smoke curling from the chimney. In this cold, he had to admit that a fire would be most welcome. At the front of the house there was a small garden with a picket fence. The garden was a mass of late autumn flowers alive with vibrant colours. The work of Kadowski’s daughter no doubt.
He continued to walk along a small paved pathway leading to the entrance door. The door was surrounded by trelliswork, covered with clematis and a climbing rose. There was no doorbell that he could see, and no door knocker. He took off his glove, and gave a loud tap on the door.
It was opened a short while later by a young woman. She was slim, with dark hair, and deep blue eyes. About twenty-six, twenty seven years old, the Major idly guessed. “Hello Major Barnes, it’s nice to see you again. Please come in,” she stood aside to allow the Major to enter. “My father is asleep, but I’m sure that he’ll be happy to see you.”
“I’m not asleep, Lucy,” came a voice from the adjacent room. “I’m wide awake. Who is it?”
Lucy smiled, and looked toward the Major. The Major looked back and he too smiled. “As you can hear, Major, my father is not asleep. He’s in the sitting room,” she said, pointing to an open door on the left. “Just in there. Please go right in. I’ll put the kettle on, I’m sure you would love a cup of coffee?” She hesitated once more. “Or maybe you would care for something stronger?”
“Coffee will be just fine, thank you, Lucy,” the Major replied as he entered the room she had indicated.
It was a surprisingly large room. Modestly but tastefully furnished. The room was comfortable, clean and tidy. He looked across at Kadowski. He was shocked at what he saw. It seemed to the Major that in the short time since he had last seen him, Kadowski had deteriorated. He had certainly lost weight.
“Hello Sergeant,” the Major started to say, but stopped. It occurred to Barnes that Kadowski had not been a Sergeant for more than ten years. He had left the army sometime in 1945, shortly after his return from Europe. It was about time we got a little less formal, he decided. “Hello, Frank, it’s g
ood to see you again,” he said as he held out his hand.
“Good to see you, sir,” replied Kadowski, grasping the outstretched hand. “Take your coat off, and make yourself at home.”
The Major removed his coat and gloves, and placed them on a chair in the corner of the room.
“Please have a seat. Over here, by the fire,” Kadowski said, pointing to a seat close by. “It’s getting a little cold out there. The weather’s gone crazy. It’s so cold for this time of year.”
The Major walked over to the fire, to warm himself. “You’re right,” he said. “Winter is on its way, I think. The forecast is promising that it’ll get colder over the next few days, and that we could have some snow by the weekend. It’s coming down from Labrador apparently.”
Bending down closer to the fire, the Major held his hands out and rubbed them together. “That’s better, much better,” he said, and then sat down at the chair that Kadowski had indicated.
“How was your journey?” Kadowski enquired. “You must be tired, I expect. It’s a long trip from Washington.”
“The journey was fine, very little traffic,” the Major replied. “I actually flew in from Washington, yesterday, and stayed overnight at the Wayfarer Hotel, about twelve miles away. Do you know it?”
Kadowski had heard of it, but he didn’t know it, but then he never needed the services of a local hotel.
“My driver picked me up this morning,” the Major continued. “We had a few other calls to make, and, here we are.”
The door opened, and Lucy came in carrying a tray. She placed in on the small table in front of the Major, and proceeded to arrange the crockery. “You’ve caused quite a stir, Major,” she said. “Half of the town is outside waiting, and watching to see what is going on.”
The Major was surprised. He stood up and walked over to the window. Lucy was absolutely right. The small gathering had now grown into quite a large crowd. He turned back toward Lucy. “I’m really sorry about all of this,” he said apologetically. “I never thought anything like this would happen. I wish there was something I could do, but I don’t know what.”