Armageddon (65 page)

He raised his glass. “To our first noncultural affair.”

Their other encounters had given way to a rising number of long silent spells, lingering glances, and greater occasion of the need to touch each other. In this setting both of them knew that these feelings had to find their way through. It became a moment of both anticipation and fear.

She reached over and took his plate. “Here, let me cut that for you. Only an old eel
fresser
can do it properly.”

Sean watched her movements as she made thin, true slices down the middle of the fish and removed the backbone. He thought she did everything delicately.

They were conscious of their own silence. They drank and watched the lake, and were annoyed by the intrusions of the waiter. Sean tipped the last of the bottle into her glass.

“Prosit!”
she said without thinking, but Sean did not react to the German toast.

He ordered another bottle of champagne.

Ernestine giggled. “I should have warned you. It does not take much to make me tipsy.”

Her eyes shone and she was radiant. The barriers were tumbling.

Behind them, the musicians switched from French to a German medley. Ernestine hummed, then sang, and her voice was sweet too. She remembered that she had not sung for years and years. “You are a pretty man ... yes, you are a pretty man ... that is better, Colonel ... you do have such a nice smile when you use it.”

Du kannst nicht treu sein—

Nein, nein, das kannst du nicht,

Wenn auch dein Mund mir

Wahre Liebe verspricht.

In deinem Herzen

Hast du fuer viele Platz,

Darum bist du auch nicht

Fuer mich der richt’ge Schatz.

Ernestine thought she saw his face grow tense at the German lyrics and stopped singing.

“Please go on,” he said.

There, the damned hypersensitivity again. “It is nonsense. A silly, sentimental song.”

Sean took her hand. “I am very glad we decided to become friends.”

“May I have some more champagne?”

“I don’t want to give you a hangover on our first non-cultural meeting.”

“I wish to get utterly drunk. I have been prim and proper for lo, six hundred years. I am going to kick off my shoes, forthwith, and wade into the lake and make you carry me to the car ...”

Sean poured her another glass.

She sipped long and sighed deeply. “Oh Lord, it is lovely here. It hasn’t been so lovely for so long.”

‘To a lovely friendship,” he said.

She tweaked his nose. “We have a nice German custom when people decide to become friends ... oh, excuse me, Colonel ... you don’t like German customs.”

“If it’s a nice one.”

“Extremely nice. First, you hold your glass and I hold mine. Now, we reach over ... .so ... and intertwine arms. There. Now, we drink.”

“This is a nice custom.”

“The best is yet to come.”

They sipped from each other’s glass, their locked arms brought their cheeks close.

“After a kiss we can call each other by the familiar form of ...
Du.”

He felt the velvet of her cheek. “I like Du,” he said.

“And I like Du.”

“Du smell good.”

“I wore it for Du.”

Their lips touched.

“Hello, Sean.”

“Hi.”

Even on the veranda lit with little more than moonlight it was difficult to miss the hulking form of Shenandoah Blessing as he spoke to the headwaiter, who, in turn, pointed to their table.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he said.

Sean tumbled back to life, excused himself.

“Take the young lady home. I’ll meet you at Security soon as you can get there. I have your fatigues and side arms in my jeep.”

“Was gibt’s?”

“Don’t know, but it sure smells big.”

Chapter Forty

W
HEN
S
EAN REACHED A
secret room in the basement of Headquarters, Blessing was there with a dozen hand-picked enlisted men from the Constabulary. Likewise, a British Major Whitehead and a squad of their military police were present. General Hansen, General Fitz-Roy, and the Commandants Hazzard and Blatty were there. General Fitz-Roy addressed them:

“You gentlemen have been selected and assembled for a secret, urgent, and delicate mission. Within forty-eight hours our headquarters will issue a joint communiqué announcing a currency reform in the American and British zones of Germany.

“Further, it is now anticipated that the American Congress will enact the Marshall Plan into law momentarily. These two events will no doubt bring a violent reaction from the Soviet Union.

“We anticipate the Russians will attempt to issue their own currency and make it universal in Berlin. We are here to prepare for that eventuality.

“Your mission tonight is to fly to Munich and proceed to a destination known as Hüttendorf, where you will bring back a special currency for Berlin. We will hold it ready if the Soviets try to eliminate four-power currency.

“Captain Horniman of British Intelligence will brief you in detail.”

Horniman spoke for an hour outlining the mission. It had been meticulously plotted.

With a final warning that no one was to make contact with persons on the outside, the briefing ended.

According to the plan they were to proceed in twos, threes, and fours to Tempelhof over a staggered time so their arrival would not create suspicion. A four-engined Skymaster was in ready named “Cherry Picker.” The flight plan called for Hamburg with the passengers listed as troops going on furlough or routine military business. After a roll call, Tempelhof tower cleared the Cherry Picker slightly after midnight and she swept over sleeping Berlin into the northern air corridor toward Hamburg.

Sean had worked secretly on certain details and aspects of the currency reform. Now that there was no doubt that cooperation with the Russians was impossible new currency would be needed for the planned merging of the Western Zones. It was an integral part of the raising of German production levels, halting inflation, opening up consumer goods, rebuilding and establishing a trade balance.

Yet, the currency reform was a daring tactic in that it issued the Russians a direct challenge. By legal agreement, Berlin was a four-power city not belonging to any Zone. Therefore, the currency to be used in Berlin would be marked with a “B.”

The Cherry Picker passed out of the Soviet Zone at the Dannenberg beacon beyond Soviet surveillance and instead of continuing for Hamburg she swung south.

At the Munich airport a convoy of closed armored trucks stood by at their parking space. As the Cherry Picker cut engines, a company of infantry surrounded her restricting the pilot and crew aboard. It was daybreak.

Members of the mission boarded the waiting vehicles according to preassignment; they drove south from the city into the rolling foothills of the mountains in the direction of the Austrian frontier. This was Bavaria in its unspoiled form.

Off the main road they passed through villages filled with decorative wooden houses with brightly colored murals on their outside walls, churches with tall towers and onion-shaped domes, and cobblestone streets and still lakes. It was one of the few corners of Germany untouched by the war.

Once past Tegernsee the hills grew more severe and the forests thickened. The convoy swung onto a dirt road blocked by a guard station.

HNTTENDORF 3 KMS. PASSAGE ON THIS ROAD IS FORBIDDEN!

They plunged into the forest and threw up a swirl of dust; the land was void of human life. The rising sun flickered through the trees as they passed another series of roadblocks and were checked through carefully.

So far as the Germans in the area knew, Hüttendorf, a tiny village of ten families, had been confiscated in total as a stockade for upper-echelon Nazi war criminals. Trained never to ask questions during the Hitler era, they said nothing and knew nothing about this “forbidden” place. The village was surrounded by a wall of barbed wire.

Colonel Hill, the C.O., met Sean and Major Whitehead at the main gate and led them to an inner compound completely walled off from the outer village and watched by an intricate guard system.

Inside the compound Germans and Americans had volunteered to live for four months with no contact with the outside for the purpose of establishing an engraving and printing plant for the manufacture of the new currency. The security was in the hands of select personnel who also volunteered to be isolated.

Inside the inner wall stood a half-dozen buildings; two barracks, the former community barn, and three other wooden constructions holding the plants and warehouse.

The convoy was lined up alongside the barn. Colonel Hill unlocked the door. The barn was filled with neatly crated boxes containing billions of marks in the new money. The special Berlin B marks were triple-checked and loaded. Signatures were traded, another roll call made. This was the sixteenth roll call.

The convoy rolled back to Munich, where the Cherry Picker was loaded. To further avoid suspicion, half the mission was left in Munich confined to tightly guarded quarters.

The Cherry Picker took off to retrace the earlier flight, reversing the procedure and pretending to be coming from Hamburg.

Late that evening six tons of wooden crates were unloaded at Tempelhof marked
BOURBON, GIN, SCOTCH WHISKEY, AND VODKA.

Russian agents reported to Soviet Headquarters that a large shipment of liquor had arrived. This led to a great deal of mirth in the Russian Command. Obviously the West was feeling the pinch of the traffic harassment. If there was going to be a blockade, the West did not intend to run out of liquor. What made it doubly funny to Nikolai Trepovitch was that the British and Americans had forsaken the French by failing to bring in wine.

Sean O’Sullivan, Blessing, and the rest of the men in the mission were confined to McNair Barracks until public announcement of the currency reform was made.

Chapter Forty-one

J
UNE 17, 1948, IS A DAY
that will live in humanity’s memory. The Congress of the United States enacted into law the European Recovery Act. The weary, the hungry, the frightened were told that the Marshall Plan would bring them tractors and butter and hope. The Marshall Plan was the light to rekindle the flame of freedom.

On June 18 the British and American headquarters jointly announced the currency reform for Germany, except Berlin. And with this, the Soviet Union’s march to the English Channel came to a halt.

It was widely announced that Marshal Alexei Popov had an extraordinary proclamation. Every radio set in Berlin was tuned to People’s Radio as the Russian took to the air.

“The conditions under which the West was invited to Berlin no longer exist. Because of broken Western treaties their presence in Berlin has become illegal.

“Berlin is geographically, economically, and historically part of the Soviet Zone of occupation. Four-power occupation is hereby ruled null and void.

“As of tomorrow, the former currency is no longer of value in Berlin. The Soviet Union will issue new currency which will be the only legal money in the city.”

Sean went to the general’s office where Neal Hazzard had set up a billow of cigar smoke.

“Sean,” General Hansen said, “you know Ulrich Falkenstein better than any of us. Shoving our currency in against the Russians isn’t going to be enough. There is no doubt that the Berliners will give an expression of where they stand. The danger is not from the Berliners; it’s from the Communists. We need the B marks approved by the Assembly. Can Falkenstein do it?”

If not Falkenstein, then no one, Sean thought, but it would be difficult. The City Hall sat inside the Russian Sector. The free assemblymen would be in danger.

“It will be tough,” Sean said.

“I say Falkenstein is strong enough to pull them through,” Hazzard said.

“He’s the leader,” Sean agreed. “That’s the one thing a German understands ... follow the leader.”

“And that’s the one reason I’ll never buy these people. They won’t stand up for an idea because it’s a good idea,” Hansen said.

“It’s a hell of a lot better to follow Falkenstein than Hitler,” Hazzard answered.

“What a hell of a funny place,” Sean said. “Our ally is now our enemy and our enemy is now our ally. Well, sir, we all agree that Falkenstein is the best of the lot.”

“And I don’t trust him,” Hansen said.

“General, I don’t think you trust any politician.”

There was a relief of laughter.

“At least he’s as good as Senator Blanchard,” Hazzard added.

“All right, all right, send for him,” Hansen said.

“I don’t think we’d better do that, sir,” Sean said.

“Why not. You two are selling me this guy.”

“What we are now asking is that the people of Berlin become our partners.”

“What the hell are you driving at, Sean?”

“We need Ulrich Falkenstein and the Berliners as much as they need us. No more, no less. We can’t go into this partnership acting as conquerors. Falkenstein won his right to be our equal in a concentration camp. I think this occasion calls for us to get in a car and visit him at his home.”

“I second the motion,” Neal Hazzard said.

Andrew Jackson Hansen was appalled at the notion, but the point had been made. Things were changing. He grumbled to Sean to order a staff car.

Falkenstein’s maid nearly passed out when she opened the door.

“You want to kick it off, Sean?” the general asked.

“Herr Falkenstein. We have flown in five hundred million marks of the new currency. It is exactly the same as that in the zone except it is stamped with a B. We are prepared to disburse it to the banks in our sectors within an hour.”