Initiative (The Red Gambit Series Book 6) (77 page)

“I have no idea, Frau Hallmann, none at all.”

Not totally true, as the markings indicated a military origin, but Postman Pfluggman had a date with a cold beer in nearby Blankenrath.

“What are these marking here, Hans?

“Military. Maybe some relative’s things, Frau Hallmann?”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I’ve no relatives fighting now. Willi was the last one, and he was lost in Austria… so long ago now.”

“Perhaps it is his then, Frau Hallman? They find things all the time, you know.”

“You think it might be? They never found him. Maybe it
is
his?”

“One way to find out, Frau Hallmann. Good day.”

The mother of Willi Hallmann, now dead, but once an SS-Hauptsturmfuhrer in the Das Reich division, hurried excitedly to the kitchen table, and quickly found a knife to cut open the package.

She ignored the briefcase, and immediately sat down to read the accompanying official document.

Dear Frau Hallmann,

The enclosed briefcase was recovered from the site of a fatal air crash in Austria, a matter which would appear to have been unrelated to you, or any member in your family.

However, a rough handwritten note was discovered in a broken glass phial within it, a note that gave your address.

As we are unable to ascertain to whom the briefcase belonged, and no third party has claimed it, we felt it only proper to forward it to you, without certain contents that were declared the property of the unknown deceased’s employers.

We have taken the liberty of copying the message as, in its present form, it is suffering from the effects of handling and its exposure to traumatic forces.

The original is in the marked envelope with the case itself.

The message reads as follows.

Frau Hallmann,

Hauptstrasse,

Haserich,

Mosel,

Germany.

AKNEPSU-65AB141/63RK29-29U532

Für-EAK

Schildkröte.

The Government has satisfied itself that the message is not of a military nature, but would be grateful if, should you discover its meaning, that you communicate with the office indicated below at the earliest possible moment.

With regards,

The dispatching postal official’s name was illegible, but was, in any case, unimportant.

The nondescript US Army mail address meant little to her.

What had caught her eye was a set of three letters.

EAK.

Annika Hallmann understood them perfectly, for she had seen them many times before, when the boy had come to play in the fields around her home, and later, when the man had visited her with his wife and two little girls.

The message was
‘… Für-EAK.’

EAK…

Ernst-August Knocke, her godson.

She went to the telephone and sought a connection to a grand house on the outskirts of nearby Riedenhausen.

The housekeeper answered and promised to get the General straight away.

“Kumm.”

“Good afternoon, Herr General. Frau Hallmann here.”

“Ah, Frau Hallmann. Good afternoon to you too. How may I be of assistance?”

“I need to see you straight away, Herr General. Something you will wish to see has come into my possession. Can I cycle over now?”

Kumm paused for a moment, his Saturday afternoon card game in full swing, but his knowledge of Annika Hallmann was enough to know that she would not trouble him if it were not important.

“Yes, of course. Come over immediately. I have friends here, but they are ones who will understand the interruption, and the concept of discretion, should the need arise. I can have the car sent for you?”

“Thank you, but no thank you, Herr General. I will be with you shortly.”

“Shortly, Frau Hallmann.”

He replaced the receiver and strode back into the orangery, where his friends eyed him quizzically.

“Frau Hallmann is coming over. Something that simply couldn’t wait.”

They all knew Frau Hallmann from her work with their organisation, so the men relaxed as one.

“She’ll be a while, so I suggest we play another hand.”

The man with the eye patch swept the cards up and shuffled.

“Zu befehl, Brigadeführer.”

SS-Brigadeführer
Otto Kumm gathered up the twelve cards that the dealer, SS- Obersturmführer Krause, had dispensed, looked at them with something approaching disgust, and waited for his partner to lead off.

They had two further hands before the game of Doppelkopf was brought to an end by Frau Hallmann’s arrival.

The briefcase did the rounds as the woman who had the HIAG’s records hidden in her attached barn, explained the note and the significance of ‘EAK’.

“I see, Frau Hallmann. And the significance of this other scrawl?”

“Unknown to me, Brigadeführer. But clearly my godson is supposed to know. I had hoped you’d know how to get hold of him, as he’s one of ours.”

Kumm nodded.

“Yes, I know how to get hold of Knocke, Frau Hellmann.”

“Can you get this note to him, Brigadefuhrer?”

He looked at his playing partner with a smile.

“I think we can arrange that easily enough, don’t you, Willi?”

The ex-SS senior officer simply nodded and savoured his chilled Riesling.

“Yes, Otto. Easily.”

Ex-SS Obergruppenführer Willi Bittrich, now Général de Brigade in the French Foreign Legion, finished his wine and accepted the note.

Frau Hallmann cycled home, less speedily, as the road was uphill most of the way.

She wheeled her bicycle into the barn and went in to make herself coffee, unaware that eyes watched her from across the street, and that she had been followed all the way to Riedenhausen, and all the way back.

Major Presley had finished her lunch and was relaxing with a cup of the finest Columbian, having reserved the final fifteen minutes before her shift began to read the Sunday Pictorial, and the section relative to yesterday’s events at the Palace.

Sipping greedily at the fresh coffee, she examined the picture of Ramsey, complete with his latest Victoria Cross, shortly to become a bar to his original award.

She examined his posture and grunted to herself, proud of the fact that he stood erect and seemingly comfortable, a resolution she found wholly satisfying, given the effort the man had given to getting ‘back on his feet’.

Setting the paper against the empty vase, she relaxed into her chair and read the story.

From our Royal Correspondent.

At the investiture ceremony conducted at Buckingham Palace yesterday, Saturday 17th August, His Majesty the King presented Lieutenant Colonel John Eric Arthur Ramsey VC, DSO and three bars, MC and bar,
with a second award of the most prestigious gallantry award, the Victoria Cross.

Lieutenant Colonel Ramsey, of 7th Battalion, The Black Watch, was given his second award for extreme gallantry and leadership at the Battle of Barnstorf, which occurred during the heavy fighting in Northern Germany that ensued throughout October 1945.

He was severely wounded during that battle, losing both his legs in an explosion, but has since made excellent progress with prosthetics, and was able to walk unassisted to the presentation stool to receive his medal from the hands of the King.

Whilst the second award of a Victoria Cross is unusual, in as much as only three other service personnel have so honoured, this award is totally unique.

The facts of his exemplary conduct initially only came to light because of a hand-written note placed inside his battledress by a senior officer of the Soviet Red Army, a man against whom Ramsey had fought on that fateful day.

The Soviet Colonel, an officer called Jarishlov, commanded the troops who captured Ramsey after the Black Watch officer had successfully, and at great personal cost, destroyed a vital route over the Hunter River, holding up a major enemy attack almost single-handedly.

Badly wounded, Ramsey was given safe conduct back to the Allied lines, from where he was taken to hospital, where US doctors saved his life.

Medical staff found the Soviet officer’s note amongst his old battledress some months later, and the process of investigation was started.

Normally, the recommendation for the Victoria Cross should come from an officer at or the equivalent level of regimental command, an, it seemed clear, that the officer recommending in this instance satisfied that requirement.

The cause of disagreement within the hallowed halls of the War Ministry was that the officer in question was an enemy.

The Prime Minister came to hear of the discussions, and directed that additional investigations should be made amongst the survivors of the Battle of Barnstorf, and, if any award was considered due, then it should be made, regardless of the fact that the initiating officer was Russian.

Investigations soon revealed a tale of great heroism and superb leadership in the face of overwhelming odds, over and above that cited by the Russian officer.

The award process reviewed all evidence and decided that the criteria for a second award had been met, and exceeded.

So intriguing was the story that the King invited Lieutenant Colonel Ramsey to his study to discuss the battle and the minutiae of his award in private.

Lieutenant Colonel Ramsey is pictured displaying his new medal, accompanied by his wife, Lucinda, and his senior nurse, Major Jocelyn Presley of the US Army Medical Service, who nursed him through his recovery.

It might surprise the reader that this officer still seeks to be actively involved in the defence of his country, and has recently accepted a position within the Department of Procurement in the Ministry of War.

The Victoria Cross was also awarded to Sergeant Carl Jones, of 4th Royal Welch Fus…

Presley shook her head, part in awe at the man’s drive and commitment to the cause, but also partially because he had done his bit, given so much of himself, in literal as well as mental terms, and still could not take a back seat.

She even felt a modicum of anger, something that Jocelyn Presley immediately baulked at, and became angry with herself for having such a thought.

She folded the Sunday paper and left the canteen, determined to throw herself into her work and overcome the negative thought.

“Good afternoon, Lieutenant. Any problems?”

“Good afternoon, Major. Only the usual suspect. Simply won’t lie still. Major Levens wrote him up for some more analgesia, but he won’t let me administer it.”

The syringe and its paraphernalia were set in a kidney dish, ready for use.

Presley checked the documentation and nodded to the nurse going off duty.

“I’ll deal with him, don’t you worry. Enjoy the rest of your day, Lieutenant.”

She strode purposefully towards the man in question.

“Good afternoon, Colonel Crisp. I hear you’ve been causing trouble again.”

“Three… two… one… and cue.”

The microphone went live.

“My fellow Americans, and peoples of the free world, good evening.”

Truman’s voice resounded from radios and speakers the length and breadth of the United States, and in many corners of the world beyond.

“I am speaking to you from the Oval Office on this most momentous of days, a day when I can bring to you tidings that herald an end to the fighting that has blighted our world for months and years.”

“Your government, and those of the Allied Alliance, have been involved in talks with the government of the Soviet Union, talks that were aimed at bringing the hostilities to a swift end, and restoring the political map of Europe to something approaching normal.”

“I am here to tell you that a ceasefire has been successfully negotiated and that, as a result, hostilities between the NATO alliance and the Soviet Union will cease at midnight tonight, Greenwich Mean Time, that is to say, in one hour from the commencement of this address.”

“This announcement is being repeated across the spectrum of our Allied nations, from Prime Minister Churchill in the United Kingdom, to President Camacho in Mexico.”

It was eleven o’clock at night in London, but Churchill had acquiesced to the timetable, knowing that his countrymen would need to know at the exact same time.

“We have agreed a ceasefire in order to save more lives, prevent more destruction, and in order to immediately look to commencing the rebuilding of our world.”

“There will be a phased withdrawal by all Soviet forces, returning them to the national lines that were in place on 6th October 1939, with some small alterations, from which position negotiations will continue, in order to restore Europe to her 1938 political boundaries.”

President Truman moved on to flesh out some of the agreements in place, and some that were expected to be negotiated in future, but not everyone was listening any more.