Opening Moves (The Red Gambit Series) (18 page)

De Walle slowly stubbed out his own Gitanes Mais, stretched and focussed on the next part of the day.

“Gentlemen,” sitting stiffly upright, and with a pause to permit the humour to fall away, “To business”.

“My name is Georges De Walle and you might by now have guessed that I am from Alsace. My rank is given as Colonel in the Army of France but you will all understand in a short time that I have not been on a battlefield as you know it for many a year and that my field of expertise resides in other, darker places.” As befitted his present calling, the lies slipped easily from his mouth.

“The name of my organisation is very complicated to remember, so most of us still think of ourselves as Deux’s. That is to say, the former Deuxieme Bureau.” He left that titbit to hang in the air for a while and it was Rettlinger, still wiping his moustache with his napkin, who took up the unspoken thoughts of those present.

“Military Intelligence?”

“Just so mein Herr.”

De Walle stood and moved to one of the huge square stone columns that lined the dining room, and paused, which silence was punctuated by a sudden soft straining sound from one of the huge chandeliers hanging in the vaulted ceiling.

“I know you have been given certain assurances by Colonel Lavalle, Herr Knocke. These assurances I confirm here and now, and on the basis of this previous agreement, you have come here, and brought your comrades with you. Colonel Frisson informs me that you have not confided in these gentlemen any part of this. He also informs me that you resisted his attempts to find out what exactly was behind the removal of German officers from his camp.”

De Walle could not bring himself to criticise a French officer in front of Germans but he considered Frisson a fool and an ex-Vichy fool at that. That the Colonel was always watched went without saying.

“From what I have heard this morning, these men are keen to discover what exactly it is that they have followed you so blindly into.” Knocke made to comment but De Walle continued quickly, moving back to his place, but not sitting.

“Please Herr Knocke; understand that these men have followed you here on trust and respect for you as an officer and man. That is to be admired and I salute all of you.” A simple nod of the head to the group gave sufficient pause for De Walle to sip his coffee before continuing.

“There will be no written contract between us and officially this group will never exist. The commandos stationed here are to provide complete security for this site as well as to ensure that all of you remain here to fulfil the terms of this agreement. Once the symposium is complete, each of you will be returned to any part of Germany or Austria, or actually anywhere you choose within reason, and given every assistance to start a new life away from any stigma or investigation. That is our promise to you, and your presence here is taken as agreement to all that will now come to pass. Your faith in Herr Knocke’s judgement is not faulty I can assure you gentlemen. I must stress that we continue on the strict understanding that this symposium is never spoken of outside this facility and remains a state secret.”

Looks were exchanged by all except Knocke, who remained firmly focussed mentally on De Walle’s words, understanding precisely what lay behind them.

“Your purpose is to employ the expertise you have acquired in battle against the Red Army, and devolve that to allied officers who will visit here. Once the other two gentlemen that have been asked for arrive here, this symposium will consist of nine former German officers,” to Knocke, the ‘former’ stung badly, “Who have expertise in every field of combat, most of it hard won on the Eastern Front.

A click of his fingers and an orderly appeared with nine blue-card folders, each named for one of the men present. Knocke looked at the two folders that lay unallocated in front of De Walle’s seat. The names of Kuno Von Hardegen, until recently Oberstleutnant of the Panzertruppen and Christian Menzel, former artillery regiment Oberst and cousin to Knocke’s wife were plain to see. Schmidt processed the names immediately and nodded lightly in acknowledgement to Knocke, even though his precise mind had already seen the names on two Colibri lighters waiting for the new arrivals.

“Please read the outline carefully. You will obviously wish to decide whether you intend to become part of this enterprise in the first instance. If you wish to return to your former surroundings, we will do that immediately. If you wish to remain then please look at how you feel this group can address the stated requirements and, on my return, we can discuss how best to undertake this exercise. I will leave you alone for now as I have business elsewhere. I hope that your two absent comrades will be here by the time I get back. Unless there are any immediate questions gentlemen?”

A silent chorus of shaken heads was sufficient to excuse De Walle from the room, as each man immersed himself in the document that outlined the remit of Colloque Biarritz. Again, lighters summoned forth flame and the dining room became a fug of blue smoke.

Even though he was aware of its content previously, Ernst was still the last to finish reading and he looked up a number of expectant faces, with the exception of Von Arnesen whose doctorate in history drove him to examine the Hohenzollern and Hapsburg standards hanging on each stone column. The fact that the Château had once been known as ‘Staufenberg’ he felt he would keep to himself for the moment. It did not seem appropriate given what was about to be proposed.

As they had waited for Knocke to finish the others relaxed and took in the surroundings, the ornate wood panelling and painted walls and ceilings, each eye eventually being drawn to the ceiling and its central feature, an Imperial Eagle.

The sharper eyes were able to make out the inscription ‘Gott mit uns’ in the aureole surrounding the eagle’s head.

A polite cough brought all back from their reveries and to the business in hand.

“Well Meine Herren, now you know. We are here to play teacher to the men that conquered our nation. Yes Jurgen”, he held his hand up to silence the obvious comment forming on the lips of the returning Von Arnesen, “We all know that the Western Allies did not and neither could they have done, but that is how they view themselves. And that is the crux of this as I see it. They are not a threat to our fatherland in the way that the communist is and this proposal, this symposium, this…Colloque gives us an opportunity to instil some of our fighting values in the Western Allies, values which stood all of us in good stead during the difficult years in Russia.”

He stood very carefully and walked to the window next to the fireplace. With his back to the group and oblivious to the countryside of Alsace spread out before him, Knocke carefully tugged at his tunic and straightened his uniform before turning to continue.

“When this matter was first put to me I had little time to consider, but my inner feeling, my blood feeling was that it was a good thing to do for Germany. I have had much more time to consider this than you have obviously but I promised not to reveal the nature of this group before the correct time. My apologies.”

“We have known each other as soldiers in troubled times and relied upon each other on more than one occasion, either face to face or,” he acknowledged Treschow, “More distantly but equally professionally reliant.”

“I am wholly comfortable with doing this, and believe it will serve our country better than rotting in some prison camp, regardless of the route that history takes from this point.”

Around him, positive noises came from every man.

“However, think on this kameraden. Some of you have fought these Western Allies. How do you think they would do against our communist opponents?”

That question was left hanging in the air as each man mentally wrote off the Western Allies in a direct confrontation with the Russians.

“Indeed menschen, indeed,” said Knocke, calling a halt to their imaginative mental destruction of the western allied armies, “So it would be much in Germany’s best interest for our ‘new’ allies to be better prepared to fight the mutual enemy. If we can use what we have learned and preserve what is left of our Fatherland, then we can only be serving our country and honouring our fallen comrades.”

De Walle, listening to the exchange from the ornate wooden musicians’ gallery, smiled to himself. His estimation of Knocke was correct and France had her Colloque for sure. He would not need Dubois to undertake the clean up that was the contingency for non-compliance. He quickly wondered if any of the Germans had considered such a possibility.

“You can see from that brief that our hosts desire a formal structure prepared for examination by 1400 tomorrow.” Even though everyone had read the document it didn’t stop a few knowing grins exchanged, especially those who had worked alongside Knocke before.

“Kameraden”, the punch in that made each man shoot to attention, quite as Knocke intended.

“There is no pressure to stay or to involve yourselves in this. I will remain and undertake this because I believe I serve my country as well as I can at this time. Please consider this and inform me of your decision as soon as possible.”

With the exception of Rettlinger, each man's heels clicked automatically and each man's eyes confirmed commitment when contact was made. Except Rettlinger, the only man there other than Knocke who had fought the Western Allies in recent months, which period had seen him bury both his best friend and his brother-in-law, killed by American artillery and aircraft respectively.

“Ah yes Bruno, for you this is a more difficult commitment. You must think it through more perhaps?”

“Not necessary Standartenfuhrer. I was just thinking of Hans and Josef and not fully concentrating on your words. My apologies sir,” and Rettlinger followed suit, clicking his heels, once more under control.

De Walle risked a look down around the stonework and made a mental note to watch that one very carefully.

In the background the sound of a light vehicle approaching grew in volume, but not enough to cause Knocke to raise his voice.

“Then let us have coffee and start to plan for the work ahead. Danke, kameraden. You have your symposium Colonel.”

De Walle heard the words and automatically looked down through the ornate balustrade, straight into the steely eyes of Knocke.

As coffee was taken, the two missing members of the group arrived and were ushered into the Kaiser’s Hall.

Both men were warmly welcomed, given their folders and time to read them. Cigarettes appeared again and were greedily consumed by the newcomers. As they studied carefully, they occasionally paused, either to look at one of the ensemble or to consume one of the array of sandwiches that had been set before them. When they were done, they listened. Knocke’s obvious commitment to the programme, as with the others present, was sufficient for them to agree involvement.

The requested writing materials arrived with the new officers and the symposium started to put together the way it would work. Lunch was taken in snatched bites in between discussions as each group of two officers wrestled with their own issues as dictated by Knocke, who moved easily between the groups. Once one group established a programme it was critiqued by another group, usually over a cigarette, until slowly a format took shape that satisfied the military requirements of the Western Allies and the professional requirements of the Germans.

It was mid-afternoon when De Walle ventured into the room to find out how much progress had been made. His question drew a familiar wry smile.

“We have a format on which we are agreed Colonel. One that fits your requirements, although we have felt it necessary to alter some matters and included Kreigspiels as essential learning opportunities for all participants.”

De Walle smiled at the inclusion of the famous German wargame training.

“The training package we present will ensure your commanders leave here with valuable knowledge in the event that our enemy, our mutual enemy, attempts to spread communism even further across Europe.”

In his hand Knocke held a modest sheaf of paper, neatly hand-written, outlining the format. De Walle was surprised and actually checked his watch to confirm that in just over five hours these Germans claimed to have sorted out the entire Symposium. That was singularly impressive, provided it was fit for purpose he cautioned himself, although somehow he never doubted that it would be precisely what had been intended when the concept of the symposia was first considered last Christmas.