Opening Moves (The Red Gambit Series) (24 page)

Ever a people of routine, it had become accepted practice for the symposium’s exercise to be taken around the walls of the Château Supérieur and occasionally the Basse Cour, often being joined by De Walle and Valois. Pleasant and extremely attractive as she was, it occurred to all that she was not a woman to be trifled with, which suited Anne-Marie just fine, because they were absolutely right.

Fig#7 - Second floor - Biarritz Modifications

On the Thursday morning, Valois had attended breakfast and provided Menzel with the information that his wife and son were both alive, well, and living with her sister in Bonn.

In almost tearful relief, Menzel took her hand and thanked Valois, already mentally writing the letter he would send them that very morning.

For Von Arnesen and Knocke there was no news at all.

Each day the group had gathered and gone through everything in the minutest detail, or at least everything that could be so examined. The intangibles of ability, personality, and character they were unable to predict.

Initially Knocke had carried the group with him because of who he was and their faith in him. Certainly now each man, in his own right, was full of enthusiasm for the task and actually relishing the challenges ahead.

No one had any doubt that there would be challenges.

So it was that Monday morning, 16th July 1945, arrived in the superb early morning sunshine of a promising European summer’s day. The symposium members gathered for breakfast at the agreed hour of seven, avoiding the dining hall and instead being served in a room in the Grand Bastion converted into their private offices. Alone for a change, as De Walle was elsewhere tying up some loose ends with Capitaine de Frégate Dubois. The conversation was light and easy, although they were always status conscious in some way, despite the fact that this morning all wore civilian clothes.

At Knocke’s suggestion, they avoided wearing their full uniforms as, and with unusually direct humour for Knocke, DerBo’s track record with egg yolk would ensure the visiting officers would think they were attending a chicken farming course. Humour aside, it was a fair point, and in any case, a shirt was just fine and nicely comfortable as the sun’s rays streamed in through the open windows bringing the sun’s warmth to all as they ate.

The plan for the immediate morning had been agreed and rehearsed previously, as everyone was conscious that first impressions would be everything and much of how the week went would be determined by those first few minutes.

In front of each man was a list of the candidates on this first symposium, complete with a synopsis of his life and service. The mix of arms of service seemed just right and there were some veteran soldiers in the group. The inclusion of the two American and two British Officers had been a surprise at first. De Walle had explained the existence of the two other similar Colloques, the British one at Hamburg and the American facility just outside of Paderborn, and how there would be officers exchanged between national groups. This was done partially on a goodwill basis but also to try to ensure symposiums did not slip into one specific national mindset, a point that Knocke conceded had not occurred to any of them.

It was at this time that the group learned of the existence of a special symposium at Frankfurt for General Staff and higher formation commanders, run by the Americans. De Walle had verbally run through a list of German officers attending that one and it was like a who’s who of the Wehrmacht’s best generals, although it was obvious that no SS senior commanders were named.

The list of officers in front of the symposium was less impressive but, as coffee arrived, conversation focussed on one name in particular, that of an American Major. In honesty, few American officers became well known to the German soldier, in the way that a Zhukov, Montgomery, or Rommel did to their foes. This officer was no exception, but they were still all drawn to the American by the name of Hardegen, a Major in an American armoured division. They would test his mettle and see how well he compared to his namesake.

Breakfast over, the group stood almost as one and instinctively turned to Knocke for some final words, but he merely clicked to attention, nodded, and proceeded out to his bedroom, to dress and prepare for the first meeting.

 
0957 hrs Monday, 16th July 1945, The Château du Haut-Kœnigsbourg, French Alsace.

The Armoury buzzed with conversation. The suits of armour were now slid back against the walls, standing silent witness to what was to come. It had been decided that this was the most suitable place in which to undertake the difficult task of introducing the pupils and teachers.

Officers from France and Britain mixed well from the start, the two Americans keeping more of their own company initially but soon drawn into the group of fellow professionals. sixteen officers from Major to full Colonel were on display, with experience of combat from the Middle East through to the icy waters of Norway. Much of the small talk turned to the weapons on display and how much more effective the art of dealing death had now become.

At 0957 precisely, a group of six immaculately turned out French commandos marched noisily into the room and took post, one on each quarter and the remaining two either side of the entrance. Their equally smart officer waited for them to finish their dressing before taking post in front of the small podium that had been erected at the far end of the armoury hall. Standing there at the attention position, flanked as he was by armoured men-at-arms from centuries past, he cut an impressive figure.

Without instruction, all the candidates moved quickly to their seats but remained standing. It was all part of the stage management planned to the minutest detail by Knocke and De Walle. The latter strode confidently in, wearing the dress uniform of a Général de Brigade of French General Staff, laden with more medals than most had ever seen. The smile on his face was partly for the dawning of this momentous day and partly because none of the symposium knew of his real status and rank, and it would be a surprise for all, especially Knocke. As De Walle marched in, Dubois relocated to the right side of the podium. The commando officer saluted him crisply, which salute was extravagantly returned, and De Walle took to the podium.

The group was silent and focussed on him.

“Gentlemen welcome, particularly our distinguished visitors from His Majesty’s Brigade of Guards,” accompanied by a formal professional nod that was returned by both British Majors, “And two decorated members of the United States Army,” followed again by a nod of acknowledgement which was accepted with a mumbled word or two. “You are the first group to attend this facility and are therefore privileged to be the first to take advantage of the opportunity of learning that it represents. This will not be easy, neither will it be conventional, for we are in uncertain times and need to try new methods.”

“The pre-requisites for attendance here are that you must have seen active service, will remain in command of your respective units for at least the next year, and are identified as suitable for promotion. You will appreciate that many of your peers fit those criteria so it is essential that you do not waste the opportunity you have been given here this week.”

De Walle let that hang in the air for a while before pressing on.

“Your instructors have the highest credentials for this symposium, with ranks ranging from Captain to full Colonel. They will treat you with respect at all times and they will be treated with respect at all times. Regardless of what harsh lesson they hand to you, and believe me they will, you will learn much here if you are prepared to accept that those who are here to give you the knowledge, have acquired theirs under very difficult circumstances and know what they are talking about.”

There was no perceptible shift in his posture but suddenly De Walle seemed to be a foot taller and bordering on sinister, his voice taking on an edge of extreme seriousness.

“Understand this Messieurs, we cannot afford to carry people who do not contribute or are disruptive. If an instructor requests that one of you be removed then there will be no appeal, no discussion, and no delay. You will be gone, along with my written report on you and a guarantee of personal attention from a number of very important people who will not have your best interests at heart”.

A snigger punctuated the intended silence.

“That was not humour gentlemen; it was a statement of fact.”

His eyes bored into the culprit, an American Major, who got the message loud and clear.

The moment passed and De Walle relaxed back into his presentation again.

‘So, why are you here and what are we about to do? The question which all of you have been asking yourselves in one way or another since you got your joining papers.”

“It will come as no surprise to you that relations with our Soviet comrades are strained at times. Some of you will already have experience of provocations and regrettable incidents.” At least three officers nodded enough to be instantly noticeable.

“We have no reason to believe that our alliance will fail but we would be foolish not to prepare for such a failure before it is too late.”

A wave of realisation spread through everyone in the room and an anticipated boring week of army lectures on dealing with refugees or similar disappeared in a few well-chosen words from De Walle.

“I will remind you that you may take away the lessons of this symposium but not the purpose or location of it. You may not directly speak of it to anyone, ever.”

The silence and anticipation pervading the room was stifling.

“Gentlemen, you have fought the Axis powers, in some cases since 1939, and fought well, learning and evolving tactics through experience and, at times, others mistakes. It is the considered view that we would not have that luxury should the communists choose to attack us here, in Western Europe. Therefore we propose to use this symposium to give you the means to fight well again against a new enemy should you be called, means which can be trusted as they are the result of other’s learning, experience and mistakes.”

The tension was immense as some of those present grasped the true meaning of the words.

Commander Dubois strode one pace forward, smashed his heel to the stone floor, startling even the experienced combat veterans in the hall. With a voice loud enough to be heard some considerable distance away he roared “Room, room Atten-shun!”

The sound of feet slamming into stone was combined with the groaning of the heavy wooden door at the rear of the hall being pulled open by the two commandos stationed there for the purpose.

The hinges had been left un-oiled to increase the dramatic effect.

Immediately the sound of feet, marking time in perfect synchronicity, invaded the expectant silence

De Walle had seen it before, as had Dubois, for the act had been carefully rehearsed, although granted that on those occasions not all the props had been to hand. What both saw now reminded them of the mettle and worth of the symposium members.

Through the hall the sound of marching feet gathered volume and reverberated as, without verbal command, Knocke sent in the members of “Biarritz”.

The echo of their precise steps around the stonewalls grew in volume until it seemed to some that a regiment was bearing down upon the occupants.

De Walle noticed the looks on the assembled faces as it became apparent to all that a squad of eight German officers was marching to the front to take a position in front of the podium. Some faces were incredulous, some were shocked, and one or two were darkened by hatred. The barely audible Texas-twanged comment of “they’re fucking krauts” was totally unnecessary.