by Eric Meyer
“I was going to send a messenger for you later. You’ve only been back a few hours, couldn’t you sleep?”
“Not next door to a railway marshalling yard unloading Tiger tanks, no. Are we needed tonight for the funkwagen?”
“No, we have something different planned. Von Betternich has driven to Vinnitsa, the headquarters of Army Group South. He is sending the message about Miss Vlasov’s whereabouts, so if they make a move on her, we’ll be ready for them. How many soldiers can you muster in your platoon?”
With Mundt injured I was down to eleven men. He was surprised. “So few? I thought platoon strength would be much higher.”
I grimaced. “Not since they’ve been pulling men out of regular units to form the new divisions, we’re all desperately short of men.”
He nodded. “In that case, we’ll have to manage. Do you need an order for your CO?”
I smiled. “I think the Standartenfuhrer would appreciate that, Wiedel.”
He wrote out the Gestapo form, handed me the order. “Hoffman, it’s important that we catch these people alive.”
“If they come,” I replied.
“We think they will. Stalin is reported to be incandescent about Vlasov’s treachery, whoever manages to kill or kidnap his niece will certainly get into his favour, they’ll jump at the chance. Remember, we’re not worried about the girl. It’s the Russians we want. We can interrogate them and find out where their orders came from and it should lead us to the spy.”
“I’ll remember.”
I walked out of his office, determined that whatever happened, I’d do my utmost to protect the girl.
I decided to stay in the city so I sent Voss and Wesserman back to Podvirky with the order for von Meusebach.
“I want the platoon back here by five o’clock,” I told Voss. “If you can’t find transport, they’ll have to march here. Just be at Gestapo HQ for five.”
They drove off in the Kubi, I had only one destination in mind. I walked into the centre of the city and got directions for the Hotel October. When I walked through the entrance, the clerk looked up and glanced at me with disdain. I caught sight of my reflection in a mirror behind the desk. I looked like a gypsy.
“I’m sorry, we’re full.”
“I’m looking for Miss Vlasov, she is a guest here I believe.”
“Miss Vlasov, yes, she checked in this morning. I have a request not to disturb her until two o’clock. She is in room 412.”
“I’ll call back.”
I left and found a bar opposite the hotel where I was able to sit at the counter and get coffee and a bowl of thin soup. I was starving hungry, as I hadn’t eaten much in what seemed like days. Four Wehrmacht officers came in, sat down at a table and started drinking heavily. Before long they were making jokes about the SS, ‘Himmler’s toy soldiers, where were they when they were needed at Stalingrad?’ One of them came up to the bar and leered at me, I just ignored him and carried on eating my stew.
“Are you lot going to disappear again when the Reds come to attack Kharkov?” he snarled.
I looked at him in amazement, wasn’t he aware that it was the SS that had retaken the city and not the Wehrmacht?
“Sergeant, just take your drink and go back to your table before you get into trouble.”
He didn’t move. His face was only ten centimetres from mine now.
“Are you going to make me, SS man?”
He smiled broadly and put a hand on my chest as if to push be backwards off my stool. There was no choice, I punched him hard on the chin and he spun to the floor. His friends jumped up and ran to help him up.
“Are you ok, Werner?”
“I will be when we knock this SS bastard’s head off. Let’s get the swine.”
All four of them jumped me and although I struck out in all directions with my fists and boots, I went down under a hail of blows. As a boot kicked me in the head I took hold of it and twisted it, sending the soldier sprawling to the floor. He landed next to me and I punched him in the face for good measure, but there were still three of them doing their best to beat me to a pulp. I kept lashing out, but it was a losing battle and I felt my consciousness starting to fade. I was desperate to find some way out of this bar room brawl but my strength was draining fast. I had given up all hope of getting out of it in one piece when a shot rang out and the boots kicking me abruptly ceased. I shook my head to clear it and tried to look up, but my vision still blurred.
“Gestapo, what’s going on here?”
I recognised the voice. Wiedel. My vision finally cleared and I could see him standing there, leather coat, trilby hat, Walther PPK in one hand, his metal Gestapo identification disc in the other. The NCOs started to protest that I’d set on them. Wiedel looked at them coldly. “Get out and don’t come back. You’re lucky I don’t have you all arrested. This bar is now off limits to all of you. Now go!”
The one I’d hit, Werner, started to protest but Wiedel held up his hand. “If you wish to discuss it, come down to Gestapo Headquarters and you can file a complaint.”
He looked at his friends, they were obviously keen to avoid the Gestapo and he took the hint and left.
“How the hell did you find me?”
“The clerk at the Hotel October saw you come in here. We need to set up this ambush for later, where is your platoon?”
I told him that they had been ordered to report to Gestapo HQ in the afternoon.
“Very well, we’ll go over to the hotel and speak to Miss Vlasov. How are you, by the way, did they do any permanent damage?”
I smiled. “Nothing I can’t live with. By the way, I tried to visit Miss Vlasov earlier, she’s not to be disturbed by anyone until two o’clock.”
“This is Gestapo business, she’ll see me.”
We walked across to the hotel where the receptionist was still behind the counter in the dingy lobby. Wiedel stared at him. “I want a room opposite Miss Vlasov’s room.”
The man held out his hands in an exasperated expression. “We’re full up, the room opposite it occupied.”
The Gestapo man stared at him for a few moments. When he spoke his voice was as icy as the Russian winter. “I’m not interested in who is in the room, get them out and give me the key, you have twenty minutes! Move!”
The receptionist looked shocked, but Wiedel reached across the counter, took him by the jacket and dragged him towards him. “If I see you still standing there in five seconds I’ll put you in a Gestapo cell.”
The man ran towards the stairs, we followed him and climbed up four flights, the lift was not working as usual, Wiedel banged on Nadia’s door. It took five minutes of heavy knocking, but she came to the door looking dishevelled and frightened. He pushed past her. “We need to check the security in this room, are there any other entrances?”
“Of course not, only the window.”
“Hoffman, check outside the window, make sure there are no convenient fire escapes or drainpipes they can use.”
I opened the window and looked out, it would need a ladder to climb up the sheer side of the building. There was a knock at the door and I drew my Walther and opened it, but it was only the clerk with the key to the room opposite.
Six hours later I was ready with the rest of my platoon. Von Betternich had returned in the afternoon, he told us that the message had been sent and he confidently expected the Russians to take the bait.
“This damned Lucy ring is so fast that they often get messages out to Moscow even before our own local commanders receive them. The fake signal states that she will be here for one night only and then we are sending her back to the Reich to join her uncle, General Vlasov. If they’re going to try anything, it will have to be tonight.”
The platoon arrived during the late afternoon and I assigned them to their positions. Six of them were in the room opposite, under the command of Unterscharfuhrer Beidenberg. They were the arrest squad. Two were dressed in hotel uniforms and played the role of porters and bellhops. Th
e other three were in the room with me and Nadia Vlasov, Voss, Bauer and Wesserman. Nadia sat in the corner of the room looking bored and miserable. I kept peering through cracks in the curtains, but there was no sign of enemy activity. The door knocked and someone shouted ‘room service’, the men hurriedly picked up their machine pistols but I told them to relax, I’d recognised Schutze Vellermann’s voice. I opened the door warily.
“I thought you might like some refreshments,” he said cheerily. He was pushing a trolley loaded with an urn of coffee and a huge plate of sandwiches.
“Bring them in, Schutze, you’re a lifesaver.”
We sat contentedly eating our unexpected meal, I asked Nadia to join us but she declined, just sitting quietly in the corner. Was she afraid of what was to happen? She was clutching her bag to her stomach and her pistol would certainly be inside it. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to use it. The evening wore on and the night was pitch black, with no moonlight to give us a good view of anyone approaching the hotel. By midnight we were all starting to feel very tired and bored, it was difficult to stay awake. The hotel was utterly silent which is why I was able to hear the faint squeak of a loose floorboard.
“They’re here,” I whispered.
They held their weapons ready, pointed at the door.
“Only shoot if it’s unavoidable, remember, we want them alive. Nadia, get behind the bed.”
She ignored me and pulled her pistol out of her bag, cocked it and waited. I shrugged, if that’s the way she wanted to play it she could carry on, it was her they’d come to kill. We heard the door opposite fly open and Beidenberg’s voice shouting at them to surrender, and then there was an explosion and a burst of automatic fire. Men screamed. I couldn’t tell who they were and then another explosion shattered the night.
“They’re using grenades, our men opposite are probably outgunned. It’s time we joined in. Bauer, guard Miss Vlasov, you other two be ready when I open the door. If you have to shoot, aim low, we want prisoners.”
Voss and Wesserman pointed their MP38s at the door of the room. I looked at them and they nodded. Then I ripped the door open in one savage motion.
Two Russians stood in the corridor, each holding a PPSh machine pistol. The third was kneeling down, about to attach some kind of charge to the door of our room. The first two men raised their weapons as soon as they saw us, but Voss and Wesserman were ready. They totally ignored my instruction to aim low and both of the enemy went down in a hail of bullets. They were obviously finished, the third man had his weapon on the floor while he was working at the door, he whirled to pick it up and I launched myself at him, knocking him over and away from the PPSh. He punched me in the stomach, a hard blow that knocked the wind out of me but I brought my legs up and kneed him hard in the crotch. He screamed in agony and I took the opportunity to punch him hard on the nose, there was a crack as his nose broke and blood streamed out, but he wasn’t beaten, he rolled to one side, grasping for his pistol in its holster on his belt. I’d dropped my machine pistol when I dived for him, my own pistol was in its holster and there was no time to get it out before he opened fire. It was as if in slow motion, I saw him whip up the pistol, even saw his finger tightening on the trigger, then Beidenberg rushed out of the room and knocked his hand to one side, sending the shot into the wall. The Unterscharfuhrer gripped the man’s arm and twisted it behind him, up to his shoulder blade and even further until with a loud crack it dislocated. The man screamed again, Voss and Wesserman rushed out and held him and I got up, retrieved my machine pistol and looked around at the carnage. The first two Russians were dead. Inside the opposite hotel room two of my troopers had been killed, caught in the grenade blasts. A third man was lying on the floor, bleeding from a stomach wound, I bent down to look closely but it did not appear to be deep. I took out a field addressing and applied it to the wound to stop him bleeding to death.
“That’ll do you for now, I’ll get the medics up here quickly, you’ll be ok,” I said to him soothingly.
He nodded his thanks and I went back out to look around. Schutze Vellermann was walking warily towards me, his weapon pointed ready to fire.
“I was in the stair well, one floor up when I heard the shooting, Sir. I can’t see any more of them.”
“Very well, go to the end of the corridor and make sure no one else gets past, unless they’re ours, if anyone tries it. Shoot them! Before you do anything else, call for a medic, we’ve got some men down in here.”
He nodded and walked quickly away. I checked out our prisoner, he looked like a partisan in shabby civilian clothes, dungarees and a torn jacket, but underneath he gave me the impression of being hard and fit.
“Bring him into the room, let’s see what he has to say before the Gestapo gets here. You’d better search him for documents and weapons.”
He carried no papers other than an old, expired Russian pass bearing the name of Vasily Chernenko. He looked annoyed when they found the piece of paper in an inside pocket of his coat, he obviously hadn’t meant to have it on his person.
“So, Vasily, do you speak German?”
His eyes flicked in recognition of what I’d said and I assumed he understood well enough.
“Who told you that Miss Vlasov would be here?”
He didn’t answer. But when Nadia stood up his eyes widened with hatred.
“Vasily,” she shouted. “You came to kill me?”
“As I kill all traitors to the motherland.”
“You know him?” I asked her.
“Yes, he was one of my uncle’s sergeants, I thought he was loyal. Vasily, you know that it was not me that joined with the Nazis.”
“That is not the way I heard it,” he said viciously. “The NKVD has evidence that you were complicit in an attempt to persuade more of our troops to desert.”
“That’s nonsense,” she cried. “Those bastards, they twist everything!”
I took hold of his wounded arm and he winced as it moved slightly against the torn shoulder joint.
“Tell us how you got the message, Vasily. We know about the radio.”
He looked away abruptly, avoiding eye contact.
“Where do the messages come from?” I persisted.
He refused to look back at me, even when I twisted his arm and saw beads of sweat running down the side of his face. But I couldn’t do any more to him, torture was the Gestapo’s province, not mine.
Almost as if they’d heard my thought, Wiedel appeared at the end of the corridor. Von Betternich was behind him, limping painfully along after the climb up four flights of stairs. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction when they saw the prisoner.
“Excellent, Hoffman, well done. Is he the only one to survive?”
I nodded.
“He’ll do, bring him along to Gestapo Headquarters. We’ll have a talk to him there.”
“Sir, Miss Vlasov is unhurt.”
He looked puzzled. “Really? So we could use her again, that’s interesting.”
He looked around at the battle damage for a few more moments and then turned away limping back to the stairs, Wiedel followed him. I detailed two men to take the Russian with them. A group of medics appeared with stretchers and our casualties were carried away.
“Voss, Bauer, you’d better station yourselves outside the room for the rest of the night. I’ll take the men back to Podvirky, I think the excitement is over for the night. I’ll send transport for you in the morning. I went to walk away but Nadia Vlasov walked over and put her hand on my arm.
“Obersturmfuhrer, thank you for protecting me. Can you not stay for the rest of the night? I fear there could be a further attack.”
“I need to get the men back to their post in Podvirky, you’ll be fine with these two men to guard you.”
She looked disappointed. “I see, again, thank you.”
On an impulse, I said, “I’ll come sometime tomorrow and make sure you are safe.”
She flashed me a small smile. “I would like that.”
I glared at Voss and Bauer who were grinning like imbeciles. “Shouldn’t you two be in the corridor, setting up a guard post?”
“Yes, at once, Obersturmfuhrer.”
They sauntered through the door.
I assembled the rest of the men and took my depleted platoon outside the hotel to walk back to Gestapo HQ to collect the Kubelwagen. The night was still black and very quiet, all I could hear was the tramp of our jackboots on the cobbles, but something caught my eye, just a flash of movement, possibly innocent but it was as if we’d appeared unexpectedly and someone had responded in a panic. More partisans?
“Beidenberg, Wesserman, I think I saw something, that cottage over there.”
I pointed to a small house set back from the main street. They nodded and we rushed over to the front door, giving each other cover as we went forward. The windows were shuttered, I wasn’t certain what I’d seen, perhaps someone leaving in a hurry. Wesserman and I covered the door with our weapons, Beidenberg kicked it in and we rushed inside. It was a stinking, dirty peasant dwelling, there was a smell of something in the air, I sniffed and said, “It’s lamp oil. Someone light a match and see where the lamp is.”
There was the scratch of a match striking, dimly illuminating the room. Wesserman saw the lamp immediately lit it. The whole room was alight now, a filthy hovel with a bundle of straw in the corner for a bed and an old wooden crate as some sort of rough table. But what was on the table was of more interest, a radio transmitter, fitted in a brown canvas backpack. A wire aerial was strung from the radio and hung out of a back window, or rather a hole in the wall covered with a loose piece of oilcloth. Wesserman kept watch on the radio while we searched the surrounding area, but whoever had been in the room had heard us coming and was long gone.
“You’d better bring the radio back, we’ll take it to Wiedel, maybe he can use it to help find the traitor,” I said. “There’s no chance of catching anyone here, they’re long gone, we’d better get back.”