by John Holt
“Don’t worry about it, Major,” Lucy said trying to calm him. She went to the window, and looked out. “Nothing much happens around here, normally. So this is a little unusual, a little exciting.” She turned away from the window. “Don’t forget my husband and myself are the local press in these parts. They probably think something really important is going on. I’ll sort it out later, it won’t be a problem.”
“Lucy, could you take something out to the Major’s driver?” Kadowski asked. “He must be dying for a drink. He’s probably freezing as well. A hot drink should go down a treat I would think.”
“Already done,” said Lucy. “Actually he’s sitting in the kitchen, getting a heat from the stove. That’s okay, isn’t it Major?”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Lucy,” said the Major. “Thank you. I’m sure that it is very much appreciated.”
“It was my pleasure,” she replied. “Major, how do you like your coffee, cream, and sugar?”
“No cream,” replied the Major. “Doctor says I have to cut out dairy products.”
Lucy poured the coffee and passed the cup to the Major. “Help yourself to some cake, Major. Don’t let my father eat it all.” She walked to the door, “I’ll leave you two alone for a while. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about. If you need me just give a shout.” With that she left the room, closing the door behind her.
“She must be a great help to you, Frank,” said the Major, watching her leave.
“She certainly is, sir, and a great comfort,” Kadowski said, as he looked at the closed door where she had been standing. “And so is her husband, Roger. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me.”
“You must be very proud of her,” said the Major.
“Thank you Major. Yes I am,” said Kadowski. “She’s a wonderful daughter. So like my wife. As long as she’s alive, my wife is still living.”
The major then remembered that Frank’s wife had died some years previously. His memory was a little vague, and he could not recall the full details. Some kind of mysterious virus, he seemed to think. Or was it a strange infection? The Major could not quite remember. He did, however, recall that at about that same time Kadowski had started to develop his own health problems. Whether or not the two events were actually linked, he was uncertain. Sometime after the death of his wife, Kadowski had moved away from the Bronx, and had come to this rural area of Connecticut.
The Major looked across at Kadowski. He was staring at something on the other side of the room. The Major’s eyes followed Kadowski’s gaze. It was a photograph in a silver frame, sitting on the sideboard. The Major stood up, and walked across to the photograph. He picked it up, and looked back at Kadowski. “Do you mind, Frank?” he asked.
Kadowski didn’t mind at all. “That’s her,” he said. “That’s my Emily. She was only fifty two when she died. I think she was about forty-eight when that photograph was taken.” Kadowski stopped for a moment as he remembered. “It was taken on the front steps to our old place in the Bronx.”
“She was a very beautiful woman,” the Major said gently. He could certainly see the resemblance between her and her daughter. He carefully replaced the photograph back into its position, and turned back to face Kadowski. “What about you Frank, how are things with you? What are the doctors saying?”
“Oh, there’s nothing more they can do for me,” said Kadowski lightheartedly. “Just keep taking the tablets, and plenty of rest. And then just wait.” He looked back at the photograph. “It won’t be too long. I expect I’ll be with her quite soon now.” He looked back at the Major. There was a large beaming smile on his face. “You’ve no need to worry about me, sir. I’ll be fine.”
The door suddenly opened, and Lucy popped her head around the door. “Can I get you anything? More coffee, anyone?” she asked. She then looked across at the table. “Now come on, you two, that cake has got to be eaten. I’m not putting it back into the pantry.”
The Major welcomed the light relief. He had been saddened by what Kadowski had been saying, at first. But then he realised that Frank had everything he needed, and he firmly believed that he would soon be reunited with the woman he loved. The Major looked at Kadowski. He certainly wasn’t sad, quite the opposite, he was incredibly happy.
“Another coffee would be fine,” he said. “Thank you.”
He looked toward Lucy. Lucy smiled. She looked at her father. She could tell that he had been talking about mum. He always had that special glow about his eyes, every time. They seemed to shine. “Smiling eyes,” mum had called them. She wasn’t wrong. Her own eyes started to moisten as her mind filled with memories. The Major watched her, as she took a handkerchief and gently wiped the tears away. He looked at the cake. Doctor’s orders said no sugar, and he knew that he should have politely declined. Nonetheless, he knew that he could not refuse her. “Cake, did you say cake. I love cake, especially with currants and cherries.”
“Now, where were we?” Lucy asked. “Yes, I remember, another coffee coming right up.” She poured out the coffee, and placed a large piece of cake in front of the Major. “You take that Major.” She started back toward the door. “Now don’t forget, just yell if you need anything.”
“Don’t go, Lucy,” said the Major. “I have a lot to tell your father, and I would like you to stay and listen to what I have to say.”
Lucy looked at her father. Kadowski nodded his agreement, and she took a seat close by him. She tenderly took his hand in hers, and gently squeezed.
The Major watched her for a few moments. “Frank this has been great visiting with you, and your daughter,” he said. “Thank you so much for your warm hospitality, and friendship. I have really enjoyed today. I only wish I had more time, but regrettably I don’t. I have a lot to tell you, and time is marching, so I better get on.”
“Major, my father and I are delighted to see you,” Lucy said. “It’s been a great privilege, and pleasure.”
“Thank you Lucy and you Frank,” the Major replied. “It has been a great pleasure to be here. Now let’s get down to the business in hand. Firstly let me tell you that the Judge Advocate’s office has carried out a full review of the matter regarding Private Roberts.”
The Major looked directly at Kadowski. “It has been concluded that nothing would be served by bringing any action against you, Frank. You will not, therefore, be prosecuted. Merely a short reprimand will be noted in your service records. This won’t affect your pension in any way.”
Kadowski was relieved. Lucy bent down and hugged him. “Furthermore no action will be taken against Private Bartelli, or Corporal Bannister,” the Major continued. “Even Private Scott’s record, in this respect, will not be stained.”
“I’m glad about that, Major,” said Kadowski. “I couldn’t be happier. Bartelli, and Bannister, are both good loyal and trustworthy men, and I’m proud to call them friends. And as for Scott, well he was, or I should say had been, a good soldier. He just couldn’t handle Terry’s death. A real hot head, he was foolhardy but brave. He was totally reliable, and always there in a crisis, and thoroughly determined.”
Ruggedly determined, Kadowski thought. The sad events that subsequently occurred proved that beyond any doubt.
Kadowski thought for a few moments, recalling the whole story. “I am really sorry for what I did, Major. I’m so ashamed,” he looked down at his hands. “I should get some punishment. I deserve it,” he said. “Not the others, though.”
“Frank, it’s all over and done. The matter is completely closed now. Finished, understood?” said the Major. Kadowski looked up, and looked at his daughter. “Incidentally did you ever find any of the gold?”
“No I never did,” replied Kadowski. “I never ever got to go back to Austria.” He sat silently for a moment thinking of what might have been. “I had always planned to go and recover the gold, to get rich. None of my companions ever showed any enthusiasm. I don’t think they really believed me. They never thought there was any gold. I’d flipped
, talking nonsense. That’s what they thought, poor old Frank.”
“Tom, that is Corporal Bannister, did all he could to dissuade me. Despite all that I still thought that one day I’d make it. I didn’t know how, or when. Then when my wife got sick I knew that I would never return to Austria. When she died, nothing else seemed to matter. Gold, hidden treasures, untold wealth, what did it matter? I knew then that riches meant nothing without your soul mate, your partner. The whole thing gradually became a blur, only a fading dream.”
“I always thought that Hartman would get back there before I did,” Kadowski continued. “I thought that he would recover the gold before I had a chance.”
“But he never did get back, did he?” said the Major.
“No, he never did get back,” Kadowski said quite slowly. “Scott got to him first.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
The End of The Affair
The Major looked down at the fire and slowly shook his head. “A bad business Frank,” he said. “As you said Scott was a good soldier. Certainly headstrong but he was still a good soldier.”
Nobody said anything for a few minutes. The only sound was the crackle of the burning wood in the fire. “Incidentally, Frank, about that gold,” said the Major, breaking the silence. “Did you have any thoughts as to where it might have been hidden?”
“Not really,” Kadowski replied. “Nothing definite you understand.” He paused for a few moments, staring at the fire. “From where we were standing you could see a waterfall over on the other side of the lake. Nearby was a cave of some kind. I just had an idea that it could have made a good hiding place. It was just a thought that’s all. But there again maybe the gold was just thrown into the lake. It certainly would have been simpler. Who knows?”
“Did you know anything about a particular storeroom?” the Major asked. “A room C?”
“Never heard of it I’m afraid,” Kadowski replied.
“By the way, I have just returned from Austria,” the Major continued. “I went up to lake Kammersee, and met up with three young students, Fritz Marschall, Karl Zur Heide, and Hans Mueller. Mueller is the son of one of the German soldiers who were killed.”
Kadowski was puzzled but said nothing.
“It seems that those young men have been searching the area for a good few months,” the Major explained. “It was they who found Roberts’ dog tags.”
“Where did they find them?” Kadowski asked.
“By the water’s edge, about three or four inches below the surface,” replied the Major. “They had a metal detector. I spent a very interesting few hours with them. I told them the whole story relating to the one and a half days that you spent at Toplitzsee.”
He looked back at the photograph of Emily. He then turned back to face Kadowski. “I can tell you Frank, that the area by that waterfall that you saw, has been checked. A short distance from the falls there is a small gap in the rock face. Inside a cavern opens out and extends down inside the mountain. Approximately thirty yards down, we found four wooden crates containing gold bullion. There were also a number of loose bars scattered around.”
Kadowski let out a gasp, and a huge grin spread across his face. “I knew it,” he said. “It just seemed so obvious to me. I just couldn’t convince anyone else.”
“Well you were right, Frank,” the Major continued. “There were two other crates lying in the lake, close to the shore line, about twenty yards down. One of the crates was smashed, and there were a number of gold bars just lying in the silt.”
Kadowski smiled as he thought of what might have been. He looked at Lucy and then turned to look across at the photograph in the silver frame. Then he returned his gaze to the Major.
The Major remained silent for a few moments. “Apart from the gold we also found three bodies,” he continued. “They were badly decomposed. But personal items, wallets, identification papers, were still lying there. We have done some checking. Two of the bodies, Wolfgang Behr, and Walter Steiner, worked at the test centre at Toplitzsee. There were no papers relating to the third body. But it is believed that it was Ernst Richter, a diving instructor who lived in Gmunden. The remains of his camp had been discovered back in 1946. We don’t know what happened, and possibly never will. The Austrian police and our own Military Police, are investigating the matter. It’s doubtful that the truth will ever be known though. We have recovered the papers, together with all of the personal effects. They were handed over to the Austrian authorities.”
“I wish I could have been there,” said Kadowski wistfully.
“I wish you could have,” said the Major.
“Were the papers we recovered helpful?” Kadowski asked.
“They certainly were,” the Major replied. “From those documents, and other evidence we have discovered, we have managed to piece together part of the story. It seemed that the crates started to arrive at the end of November 1944. At that time it seems that nobody knew what the crates contained. The instruction was to merely take the crates into store.”
“Room C?” Kadowski asked.
“That’s right,” the Major replied. “Over the next few weeks more convoys arrived. As far as we can tell fifty or sixty crates were delivered in total.”
“All containing gold bullion?”
“Mainly gold,” the Major replied. “But there were also large quantities of documents and counterfeit currency.”
“Counterfeit currency,” Kadowski repeated.
“That’s right,” said the Major. “There were millions of US dollars, and British pounds. Eventually, at the end of January 1945 instructions were given that the crates were to be hidden in, and around the lake. That never happened. Time was fast running out. Your unit was very close by. It was apparently decided that it would be easier, and quicker just to seal up the room, as though it never existed. And that is exactly what they did. But then something unexpected happened. Another convoy arrived with twelve crates on board. The room was already sealed, so these crates had to be placed in the lake. There was no choice. Your SS Major Hartman was given the task of their disposal. Now we are not absolutely sure of what happened next. It seems that the operation started well, and several crates were placed in the cave. Then it happened. There was an accident, a crate fell and broke open, and the contents slid into the lake. Hartman now knew about the gold. But so did the four troopers. Hartman could not allow that. He ordered the soldiers to place the remaining crates into the shallower sections of the lake. He then shot the four soldiers. You know the rest.”
“Quite a story, Major,” Kadowski said. He thought quietly for a moment. “So if it hadn’t have been for that unexpected convoy, none of this would have happened.”
The Major looked hard at Kadowski.
“Hartman would not have been at Kammersee that day,” Kadowski continued. “Terry would not have got killed, at least not by Hartman. And Scott would never have gone looking for Hartman.”
“That’s about it Frank, in a nutshell,” said the Major. “We never know what life has in store for us. Incidentally you would never have known about the gold either, so we would never have recovered it.”
“True,” said Kadowski. “But was it worth it? I’m not so sure.”
“You could be right, Frank,” said the Major. “It doesn’t really matter now. There’s nothing we do about that it. Besides the unexpected convoy did arrive, and that’s that.”
“Do we know what happened to the people who worked at the test centre?” asked Kadowski.
“Well you already know about Behr and Steiner. Jurgen, the head of the centre and his deputy Theo Lehmann, were both arrested in Cologne in August 1945. War crimes were considered but not pursued. They are now both working for the US Navy in Virginia. Apparently they have been there since 1950, working on rockets and underwater missiles. It’s a funny life sometimes.”
After a brief pause the Major continued. “An official investigation, and search of the lake will now be carried out jointly by the wartime
Allies – Britain, America, and France, together with the Austrian Government.”
The Major then told Kadowski that they had also found a number of identification tags, belonging to the detachment of German troops. “You know the troops that you fought with,” he said. “We would have liked to give some information to the relatives of the four soldiers who were killed by Hartman. Regrettably we have no knowledge as to who they were, or where they came from, apart from one, Sergeant Mueller. The others are a complete mystery.”
Kadowski remained silent for a moment or two, the vision of the soldiers clearly in his mind. “I think I can help you there,” he said quietly.
The Major looked puzzled.
“Lucy, fetch me that old tin box, from the cupboard. You know the one.”
She knew exactly what he was talking about. He had shown it to her so many times. She opened the cupboard in the corner of the room, and took out the tin.
The Major looked from Kadowski, to his daughter, and back again. As she approached the table, the Major looked at the tin. It was an old sweet tin, approximately six inches long, four inches wide, and two inches deep. It was obviously several years old. It was showing signs of some rusting, and it was dented in several areas. The Major noticed the faded picture on the front. It was a country cottage, not unlike the one he now found himself inside. The tin stirred up memories from thirty, or more years ago. As a young boy, he had a tin just like it. Full of those creamy toffees that he had liked so much. You don’t get them anymore, he thought ruefully.
She placed the tin on the table in front of him. The Major said nothing, but watched everything closely and wondering what this was all about.
Kadowski slowly opened the tin, and peered inside. His eyes sharpening as he remembered all those years ago. He reached inside, took out the contents, and placed four sets of tunic badges, and four sets of identification tags, neatly on the table.