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Miller H Caldwell, click here
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Hold on to your seats folks
8
‘So soon?’
‘Yes mother. It will good to see Otto again,’
‘Can’t you bring him to Scotland with you next time?’
‘I doubt it mother. He’s got his own life to lead now that he’s eighteen.’
‘Eighteen, my ....a young man.’
Fleur wondered what her mother was making of her footloose daughter as she strolled on the deck of the Hamburg bound SS Bremen. In the dining room that night she sat alone and ate poached cod, new potatoes and cabbage. A slice of black bread lay on her side plate. She absorbed the German culture once more from the taste in her mouth. She coughed. A bone obstructed her breathing. A waiter noticed and came to her aid. But she managed to wash the bone down with a glass of water.
‘It has gone, has it?’ he asked.
Fleur spluttered and took her handkerchief to her mouth before gaining her composure.
‘Yes gone. Gone thank goodness, thank you.’
‘I am sorry there was a bone in your fish.’
‘That is not unusual. Fish need bones just as Hitler needs boats.’’
The waiter nodded as he smiled. Fleur watched as he turned away. She noticed his signet ring. He was not likely to remain a non combatant sailor.
The letter of instruction was opened once more when she was back in her cabin. It was signed in Berlin by Snairac. The name had intrigued Fleur. The message was clear. Return to Germany at once for further instruction. Await contact when you get to Hamburg.
She lay in bed contemplating who Snairac might be. Perhaps it was a code, a code to which she was not privy. Herr Eicke was not mentioned in the letter. Was he aware of it? Regular unanswerable questions assaulted Fleur’s sleepy head like the tapping of Morse code.
The following morning Fleur strode down the gangway to the quay in Hamburg, with mixed feelings of recognition and anxiety. Troops were prominent as were military machinery. The differences between her departure and her arrival were as stark as could be. As she walked through the customs, an officer in military uniform with crossbones on his lapel approached Fleur. He was tall, elegant with an air of superiority and leather boots almost up to his knees where an exaggerated fold in his trousers made him look like a horseman.
‘Frau Richter?’
‘Yes.’
‘I am pleased you have arrived in good time. Your voyage was calm?’
‘It was not without a swell but I have crossed several times before. It was not unpleasant.’
‘Let me take your case. We are to attend a meeting in Berlin tomorrow. Come, my car is waiting outside.’
‘Berlin!’
‘Yes you will meet an important man there. Your other case, may I?’
‘No, I’ll keep it. It’s my oboe.’
‘Ah an oboe. That is what my daughter Heider wishes to play, in her school orchestra when she is older.’
‘How old is she?’ she asked looking at this handsome athletic man.
The officer took from his breast pocket a photo of his wife and daughter. He handed it to Fleur.
‘She’s only four.’
‘Ahh...an age when a girl needs a father. Do you see her often?’
‘She knows it’s a better future for Germany we are seeking. That satisfies her.’
Fleur noticed his cold response.
It was mid afternoon when the car drove into Berlin.
‘Can you tell me who I am to meet with yet?’ asked Fleur.
‘Your letter, was it signed by Snairac?’
‘It was, yes. Who is he?’
The officer smiled. ‘His roots are Greek or Italian I believe. But his English is impeccable. He thought you might unscramble his simple anagram.’
‘Snairac?’
‘Yes, you have surely heard of him?’
‘Ansirca.... Snairca..... Canaris...’
‘That’s him. Admiral now, Admiral Canaris. Head of Abwehr, the German Intelligence Service. We work for the same outcomes.’
‘And you are?’ asked Fleur.
‘Reinhard Heydrich, presently at your service.’
Fleur took a silent fearful gasp. Few men in Germany were more feared than this cold calculating thug of a man yet he had been the epitome of chivalry during the journey. He clearly knew who Fleur was and why she was of interest to his country. His questions explored her background and assessed her loyalties.
As the car proceeded deep into the capital she realised she was heading into the Lion’s mouth. The car came to a stop outside Gestapo headquarters on Prinz-Albrecht Straße in Berlin.
Admiral Wilhelm Franz Canaris had been head of the secret police since 1935. He was a blond handsome man born in Westphalia into a distinguished industrial family. His First World War escapes and naval expertise followed by errands of espionage made him the ideal man to lead the secret police despite being covertly anti Hitler. He was cultured, speaking four European languages fluently.
His office was found on the third floor. Fleur waited to be announced on a carved wooden bench. Four armed and helmeted guards dressed in black stood at attention with their arms at ease.
The office door opened with a flourish and Reinhard Heydrich beckoned Fleur in.
Fleur stood up brushed her dress down releasing the folds and strode purposefully towards the door. She entered the room and found Admiral Canaris behind his desk. He rose and came forward his hand proffered in a welcome gesture.
‘That will be all Reinhard,’ said the Admiral.
Heydrich hesitated. He was being shunned from the ensuing conversation. The distrust between the two men was obvious and widening.
‘Tell me about yourself, Frau Richter,’ he asked.
Fleur spoke of her love of the German language and her first visit to the land in 1912. About meeting her husband Karl and she told him about her son who was now in the motorised unit of the Hamburg infantry regiment.
‘And why did you return to Scotland?’
Fleur spoke of her ailing parents and subsequently her father’s death. Then she introduced the man until then she most feared, Herr Eicke.
‘Herr Eicke. You won’t be hearing from him again.’
‘No?’
‘No. He is no longer in Hamburg. From now on I shall direct you.’
‘In what way, may I ask?’
Admiral Canaris drew himself nearer to Fleur and dropped his voice.
‘There are forces less brutal than the Nazi machine. There are many people who love Germany and wish it to thrive. They are silent at this time. Frightened and removed from spheres of influence. Hunted down and eliminated. Terrible things are happening in Germany. This brings shame to our land. My views have been aired in London, but they must not be aired in Germany’.
‘You are being very honest.’
‘Yes because I am grasping for straws and have you in mind.’
‘Am I to be sacrificed?’
The Admiral smiled and laughed quietly. ‘No, but if you love Germany as I see you do, there is one thing you can do. It will mean a return to Britain to achieve it. I will shortly assist you in the Netherlands.’
‘Really? But how long should I remain in Germany?’
‘I can read your mind. Of course I need you back in the UK as soon as is practicable. But you have a son and relatives who wish to meet you in Hamburg this evening.’
‘You mean Otto?’
‘Yes and his aunt and uncle. You will be driven back to Hamburg shortly.’
‘With Reinhard Haydrich?’
‘No, one of my drivers. You will be safe. I have made a reservation at a table for you all at the Stiegenberger Hotel.
Fleur thanked Admiral Canaris and made her way downstairs to the waiting car. As it sped back to Hamburg she contemplated just how she would undertake the Admiral’s instruction.
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Web Site:
The Solo Oboe Chapter 8
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Ron