by Ward Wagher
“Right,” Florian agreed. “For example, where would we mount the propeller? And we would need some way to control the direction.”
“I understand Karl has worked with Kurt Tank at Focke-Wulf to put magic in a Condor airliner. If we could do something like that, we could fly anywhere we wanted.”
“I didn’t know you were a pilot, Dieter.”
“I’m not. I was simply tossing out ideas.”
They rolled up to the gate, and the guard waved them through onto the base. They bumped across the frozen ruts in the snow to the laboratory building and parked.
“It’s now time to be good little Germans,” Florian quipped as they climbed out.
Once again, Dieter felt there was nothing he could add to the conversation. Jette snorted as she walked ahead of them into the building.
Being productive was tough when his mind was ruminating on the escape plans. Their demonstration of the whirlwind device in the Sporthalle was successful, but the concept needed polishing. Florian had given him a checklist of the things that needed attention, and he worked his way through it. But not at his usual pace.
“Are you well, Dieter?”
He looked up to see Ignatz standing at the bench.
“I’m just pondering the best way to make the changes Florian has suggested for the whirlwind device.”
“You were staring into space for the past fifteen minutes.”
Dieter shook his head as if trying to clear it. “I guess I was woolgathering, Ignatz. Sorry.”
“In the future, please gather the wool on your own time. Better yet, leave the sheep alone.”
He nodded and looked down at the notes. He had to get busy before the manager became even more suspicious. He wondered what Ignatz’s reaction would be when the three of them didn’t show up at the lab one morning. He wondered about Rolf’s reaction. Would he take his anger out on Ignatz. He felt guilty about leaving Ignatz to explain things to the SS, but it seemed like there was no alternative.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
December 30, 1939
“We won!” Ludwig shouted, waving a newspaper as he walked into the lab. “The French have surrendered.”
“That has got to be about the quickest war I have ever heard of,” Florian said as he walked over to where Ludwig had spread the newspaper out on his bench. Dieter and Konrad also walked over.
Ludwig read as he ran his finger down the block of text in the newspaper story.
“The French government fled to Bordeaux, the cowards. They declared Paris an open city. We ought to burn it to the ground.”
“What will happen now?” Dieter asked.
“It says the Führer will fly to Compiègne to accept the surrender. That is where we surrendered in the last war. I would think the Führer has a fine sense of the ironic.”
Dieter looked over his shoulder and read the article. Konrad and Ludwig celebrated the victory; he felt sick to his stomach. He had planned to drive to one of the French ports as part of the escape attempt. While that would now be easier in some ways, the Germans were sure to be patrolling the ports heavily.
“You know,” Ludwig continued, “tonight is New Year’s Eve. We really do have a good reason to celebrate this year. I know of a good Gasthaus where we can use the back room. Everyone here is invited, of course, except for the Jew girl.”
“I don’t know,” Dieter demurred, “it will be awfully expensive to spend the evening in the Gasthaus.”
“Oh, come on, Dieter,” Ludwig laughed and slapped Dieter on the back. “The SS pays us well and you best of all. You can afford an evening of entertainment.”
Dieter shrugged and returned to his bench. The test of the whirlwind device they had conducted in the Sportshalle had been successful. Not only was it capable of generating ferocious winds, but they were developing a way to keep the funnel tightly compacted so they could focus the damage as desired. Rolf was excited about the possibilities and thought it was potentially even more effective as a weapon than the beam gun.
Karl walked into the lab and over to Dieter’s bench.
“Great news, eh, Dieter?”
“I’m amazed things went so quickly.”
“Our new weapons made the difference. Oh, I think we could have beaten the French anyway, but this way far fewer good Germans died.”
“There is that.”
“And how does your newest project fare?” the craftsman asked.
“I think we are getting a handle on it. We are still teasing out the quirks of the thing. I’d say in another week we could turn it over to you to build the prototype of the production weapon.”
“That’s great,” he exclaimed. “I was getting a little bored.”
“Well, we can’t have that. Have you given thought to how we can build these devices without completely weighing down the magician?”
“Yes, I have. That has been worrying me lately. The current gear is approaching 35 kilos. Some of our smaller magicians are beginning to struggle with it.”
“I am happy to leave that problem in your capable hands.”
Karl laughed and clapped Dieter on the shoulder as he walked past towards the coffee pot. Dieter gazed at Ludwig, who continued to study the newspaper. Florian eased over next to him.
“That complicates our plans,” he said softly.
“Maybe, maybe not. We will have to talk about it.”
“Yes, well,” he said, slapping his lab notebook on the bench. “We need to get started testing or Ignatz will have something to say about it.”
“And God forbid that should happen.”
As the late afternoon came, Dieter and Florian decided they had done everything necessary to complete the research work on the whirlwind device. They carried the device into the manufactory and delivered it to an appreciative Karl. Florian handed the lab notebook to Jette, who immediately began typing the notes.
“You have completed the project,” Ignatz said. “That is good. What do you plan to work on next?”
“I have no idea,” Dieter laughed. “I’m sure we will come up with something.”
Ignatz looked at the clock on the wall. “I suppose you two should call it a day. Tonight is New Year’s. Take the opportunity to celebrate. We have had an outstanding year.”
“Thank you,” Florian replied. “Come on, Dieter. Let’s get going.”
A brief interlude of warm weather had cleared the streets. The citizens of Frankfort were out in mass, buying for the New Year’s meal. The sense of joyful bonhomie was apparent. Germany had just scored its second victory, this time against the French. While most Germans were ambivalent about the other nations with which they shared the continent, there was a sense of getting back after the humiliating surrender twenty-four years in the past.
“So, where are we going?” Florian asked.
“Home,” was Dieter’s reply.
He glanced out the side window as he drove, slowing to yield to the crush of pedestrian traffic.
“I thought we were going to hoist a few with Ludwig tonight.”
“I never committed to going. Besides, I have a lot of work to do.”
He hoped the broad hint would spur Florian to help him with their escape project, but the other man wasn’t having it.
“Come on, Dieter, the English have a saying about all work and no play. You need to get out once in a while.”
“The Gasthaus is expensive,” Dieter complained.
“We’ve got plenty of money. That sounds like an excuse to me. You need to get out.”
He pulled up in front of the rooming house and started to get out. Florian put his hand on Dieter’s arm.
“Are you simply going to ignore me?”
“I already told you. I am staying home.”
Florian threw up his arms in disgust and followed Dieter into the house. They were met at the door by Herr Becker.
“I am glad to see you meine Herren. We are preparing a special New Year’s meal. I hope you will be able to join us.”
“Of c
ourse, Herr Becker,” Dieter responded. “We would be honored.”
Florian followed Dieter as they walked up the stairs to their rooms.
“I don’t understand you, sometimes,” Florian said as he followed Dieter into his room.
“What is there to understand. I don’t feel like going out and drinking myself senseless. I have things to do.”
“You need some time away from your work, Dieter. So just buy a single stein and sip on it all evening.”
“Are you self-disciplined enough to keep your drinking under control?”
“Of course.”
“Uh-huh. Think about the mornings you come into work nursing a hangover.”
“It’s not that often.”
“Once is too often.”
“Did you know that nobody in the lab likes you very much?”
“What? What is this, a change of subject?”
Florian put his hands on Dieter’s shoulders and looked into his eyes.
“You give the appearance that you think you are Herr Perfect.”
Dieter shook his head. “I know I’m not perfect. I can’t count the times I have made a fool of myself or been cruel to someone. Or both.”
“That may be, but all you show to everybody is smug perfection.”
“Surely not!”
“Have you ever tried to understand what people think of you?”
“I don’t care what people think of me.”
“And that shows, too. Everybody sees that Dieter considers himself number one, and everyone else could go hang as far as you were concerned.”
“I don’t need this right now, Florian.”
“Of course not. No one does. I’m just saying that sooner or later, you will find yourself without friends, and you will wonder what happened.”
Dieter walked over to look out the window at the winter twilight and stuck his hands in his pockets. After a few moments, he turned back to Florian.
“Very well, you have shamed me into going to the Gasthaus with you. But, we agreed to eat here – the Beckers have put a lot of effort into the dinner tonight. We should eat here, and then we can go.”
Florian grinned at his friend. “I knew you would see reason.”
“And with friends like you…”
Florian laughed as he left to go to his room.
Dinner was convivial. The lodgers were cheerful and indulged in more conversation than was their wont. Jette chatted freely with Florian and the Beckers. Even Frau Hohltaube tempered her usual glare. When the meal was complete, Dieter and Florian excused themselves and drove to the Gasthaus, where they met Ludwig and Konrad. Even Ignatz joined them.
“I’m glad you came, Dieter,” Ludwig said. “You need to get out more.”
“Florian has been telling me such,” he admitted ruefully. “I guess I’m just not good company very often.”
“Nonsense. Everybody knows you are the most dedicated worker in the place. But people get a little bit brittle if they don’t unwind occasionally.”
“I shall try to be more entertaining, then.”
Everyone laughed.
“Please do not get too entertaining tonight,” Ignatz said dryly. “I have no desire to bail you out of detention.”
“I shall keep that in mind.”
Dieter tried to keep his intentions in mind and sipped lightly on his lager. But Ludwig called for a second round, and another stein was slapped in front of him. He tried to accelerate his intake but was barely into the second stein when a third appeared in front of him.
The room seemed to be getting fuzzy when Ludwig began a conversation about the recent German victory over the French. There appeared to be general agreement around the table that the SS Magician Corps was responsible for the low loss of life among the Wehrmacht.
“It’s about time we put the Frenchies in their place. They all seem to sneer at everyone who is not French.”
“Perhaps we will import more food through Spain and Portugal that way,” Konrad commented. “I’m tired of not finding what I want in the deli.”
“And I’ve heard that we are insisting the French return all the Jews who escaped from the Fatherland,” Ludwig said. “It’s bad enough they poison everything in Germany. But they have been spreading it in France and elsewhere, and telling lies about us. I’m sure that’s what got the war started.”
“How’s that?” Florian asked.
“Why, they have whispered in the ears of the French government. Rest assured, the new French government will pay attention when Berlin speaks. You there, Dieter, what do you think?”
“I think I’ve already had too much to drink.”
“But surely you have an opinion on the Jews, right?”
Dieter chuckled sourly. “I probably would not make any sense right now, Ludwig.”
Ignatz had not joined in the conversation either, and Florian looked uncomfortable.
“Come, everyone, why so glum?” Ludwig shouted. “It’s New Year’s. We have contributed to a great victory for the Fatherland. We should celebrate.”
Dieter pulled his money clip from a pocket and pealed out several Reichsmarks. “My apologies, meine Herren. If I sit here much longer, I will embarrass everyone. Florian, can you drive me home?”
He lurched to his feet and tossed the money on the table and then made his way to the foyer to retrieve his coat. He looked around to see Florian join him.
“Are you alright, Dieter?”
“If Ludwig kept talking, I would have embarrassed everyone, and likely gotten myself into trouble with the Gestapo.”
“You are not as drunk as you appeared.”
“Hardly. I am sober enough to know when it’s time to beat a hasty retreat.”
“He was making me uncomfortable.”
“You and everyone else. Ludwig is a good lab worker, but he has a big mouth.
They climbed into the little KdF Wagen, and Dieter began driving back to the rooming house.
I worry because Ludwig has knows Jette is Jewish,” Florian said.
“Then we’d better stay busy on our plans. If the Gestapo walks into the laboratory, we will have to go with what we have. And right now, it isn’t much.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
January 1, 1940
Ignatz had declared New Year’s Day as a day off for the laboratory employees. Since most of the country was celebrating Germany’s victory over France, no one would look askance at the SS Magician Corps laboratory taking the day off. Dieter and Florian had hidden in Dieter’s room to conduct experiments. Having a clear goal enabled them to focus on the precise set of equipment they would need for their escape from Nazi Germany.
“We are going to need a boat,” Florian said as they tinkered with the device Dieter thought would eventually produce invisibility. His comment came after a long silence.
“What do you know about boats?” Dieter flipped the switch and turned to Florian.
“Not a thing.”
“I do not, either. Do you think that presents a problem?”
“Oh, I am certain it does,” Florian said with a smile. “That is why I brought up the issue.”
“I have been thinking about that myself. We must select a seaport as our destination. Then we must select what type of boat we would need.”
“You just said you knew nothing about boats.”
“I don’t. But, bear with me, Florian. We need something big enough to take us across the Atlantic, but small enough not to attract attention.”
“That covers a lot of territory,” Florian said.
“True. It needs to have the range we need to get to the American coast. It must be seaworthy. The Atlantic is not usually like a millpond.”
“So, it would have to be somebody’s yacht. I don’t think a fishing boat would have the range.”
Florian stopped speaking and slapped himself on the forehead.
“We are Dummköpfe, Dieter. We can use a power device and use it to drive an electric motor and use that to drive the
propeller. Like what they are planning for the U-Boats.”
“That had not occurred to me, and it should have,” Dieter said. “So, we must find someone willing to sell us his boat. This strikes me as unlikely.”
“This whole thing will be risky. I don’t see any other way around it, however.”
“True. But as we are building our equipment, we can keep thinking about how to solve the big problems.”
Florian snorted. “We aren’t making a lot of progress on the small problems.”
“Have confidence, my friend. We simply have to apply ourselves.”
“Right.”
“It is almost six o’clock,” Dieter said. “Perhaps we should walk around the corner to the delicatessen and get ourselves something to eat.”
“I knew you would come up with a good idea sooner or later.”
“I think maybe we should invite Jette and Frau Hohltaube to join us.”
“I like Jette,” Florian said. “But that old lady scares me.”
“Yes, but when the old lady is present, people don’t mess with us.”
“There is that. Okay, you have convinced me.”
The bright New Year’s Day had warmed up enough that they did not have to dress for arctic conditions. Florian and Jette walked ahead of Dieter and Frau Hohltaube.
“Jette seems happy today,” Dieter commented.
“It was kind of you to invite us to dine with you. That poor girl is terrified of going out by herself.”
“I am also terrified of going out by myself.”
“You know what I mean,” she cut him off. “Any of us risk falling afoul of the Gestapo, but the Jews face a special terror. You must do whatever is necessary to protect her.”
He looked over at her. “I thought that was what we were doing.”
“You are not treating this seriously,” she continued, unfazed. “You three are embarking upon an extraordinarily dangerous undertaking.”
Dieter decided not to be intimidated by Frau Hohltaube, but it was not easy. She had a way of shutting down a conversation that often left him speechless.
“I do try to listen to what you tell me.”
“See that you do.”