Authors: Alan Bricklin
Allen Dulles did not look up as Mary let herself out of the office,
nor did he even acknowledge her leaving, not an unexpected situation and one
that did not particularly bother her. He opened the file she had placed on the
desk, took a moment to refill his pipe, then sat back in his large chair to
exhale the first puff of smoke before leaning forward to study the typewritten
pages and photographs in the neatly labeled manila folder. The dossier was
relatively sparse and not especially helpful, consisting of background
information of a personal nature, his rise through the ranks of the SS and his
first few postings during the war. After that, nothing much other than some
incidental pictures and notes in reference to political / publicity events, all
of them involving his presence in the company of Hitler or one of his well
known minions. It was as if all the basic data in the file had been compiled in
case Waldman might rise to great importance or significance, and when it was
seen that this was not to be the case, the information gatherers lost interest.
He picked up the phone, punched a button and asked his aide to come in.
"Yes sir," Bill said as he entered the room.
"I need you to get some information for me. Try Caserta
first, but contact whoever else you think might have it and do your best to
coax it out of them." Dulles referred to OSS headquarters in Caserta,
Italy. He was, of course, also aware of the rivalry and territorialism of the
various intelligence agencies, and hence the latter admonition. "This is a
file on one Gerhard Waldman, a general in the SS. Find out all of his postings
since hostilities began." Bill took the folder that was held out and was
about to turn when Dulles said softly, "Hold on a minute." He reached
into the top right hand drawer of his desk and removed a similar, albeit
thicker file, which he held in his hand a moment, thumbing the edges in what
would have seemed to the casual observer as an absent-minded gesture, but his
aide knew that he never did anything that was inadvertent or without purpose.
"This is another general who's been in Bern. I guess they're coming out of
the woodwork these days. This one's Wehrmacht, though, not SS. Get his postings,
too, and look for any connections. Also, check for any absences from their
posts"
"On it right away, sir."
When Bill walked to the door with the two files under his
arm, Dulles looked after him, thinking what new plot might be gestating in his
city. It would require some thought, but not right now, the click of the door
latch switching his efforts to the work piled on his desk, not terribly
exciting but a must do before his afternoon meeting with Gero Gaevernitz, the
scion of a wealthy and respected German family, a good friend and a trusted
source of valuable inside information about the Third Reich.
Later that night, when Allen and Mary met up at his place
for drinks, he filled her in on what he was doing, and used her as a sounding
board for his analysis, put off since early that morning, of how he saw the
situation.
"My first question is whether the presence in Bern of
this SS general is in any way related to the Wehrmacht general, Heinrich
Schroeder, with whom we've been working. Schroeder's met with Templeton, and
you saw Julian and Waldman, although not together, at the same hotel. Might any
of them be in bed together?" He swirled the ice cubes in his scotch and
soda, took another sip and continued, "Of course, it's entirely possible
that General Waldman was here on some completely unrelated business, a matter
not in the least nefarious, maybe just buying his wife a birthday gift. You
always have to allow for the possibility of coincidence."
"Do you really believe that, Allen?"
"I get paid not to believe that, but I have to admit,
nonetheless, that coincidences do occur." Another sip of scotch. "But
I have to rule out all the other possibilities first."
"So, where does that leave you?"
"I can see three, maybe four players that we have to be
concerned about. The two generals could be working together, and if that's
true, and they're keeping it from us, that could only mean we wouldn't like
what they're doing. They could be trying to play us, either for their own
benefit —— that is money and escape —— or for the
benefit of Hitler and the party. Doesn't quite make sense, though, since
Schroeder already knows where the plutonium is located and I'm sure he could
find a buyer or broker on his own if that's what he wanted, and with enough
money he could slip away from the allies. Wouldn't need Waldman, or us for that
matter.
"The next scenario involves Waldman either trying to
double cross Schroeder if they're working together, or, if they're not, trying
to pull a snatch of the plutonium and run his own game."
"That would make more sense to me," Mary said,
"because it might explain a connection to Templeton, although I don't like
to think of that as a possibility."
"I don't either, but it wouldn't be the first time that
something like that happened. And you're right about it explaining a
connection. It's unlikely that Waldman knows where the Plutonium is; but
Schroeder does, and he's being run by Julian."
"Other than what I told you I saw that day, is there
anything at all to implicate Julian?"
"Nothing. But we've never looked." He finished the
remainder of his drink in one swig. "Now I have to and it doesn't make me
happy." Dulles stood and paced back and forth a few times, talking as he
walked, a sign that Mary recognized as indicating stress, something that was infrequently
manifested by such a man as Allen Dulles. "If," and he emphasized the
first word, "Julian is involved, where does that leave Mallory? For that
matter, where, actually, is Mallory? Is he in on it, too? And even more
importantly, just what is this 'it'?"
"You've no idea where Kent's gotten to?"
"No, not really. Just disappeared one day. Julian said
he bought a ticket to Lugano but we don't know that he actually used it.
Whatever happened, I don't think Julian planned it; it screams for attention and
that's something any good agent wants to avoid. Kent may have been a willing
participant or merely stumbled onto something that put him in harm's way. In
either case, it wasn't orchestrated by Julian. He would have had a cover story
planned in advance to explain the absence. He knew that anything he fabricated
after the fact would throw even more suspicion on himself."
"So, everything is still pretty circumstantial, and all
the potential links are tenuous."
"At best. In the morning I'll have to pile more work on
Bill. He's really a smart fellow and a good man; if he was my private employee
I'd give him a raise. Government workers, including those who work for the OSS,
don't earn very much. I think it would be worthwhile to look into the finances
of both Mr. Templeton and Mr. Mallory, as well as their travel history while
stationed here."
Information began filtering in forty-eight hours later,
surprisingly soon considering all that was happening as the allies consolidated
their advance into the Third Reich. Bill took the packet from the courier and
put aside all his other work, knowing that Dulles would want answers as quickly
as possible, for although his boss had not stated it explicitly, it was obvious
to his aide that there was a serious concern that someone might be running a
renegade operation, and that one or more OSS members may be involved. Bill was
a quasi member of several teams working on various projects, by virtue of the
assistance he provided as someone who understood the ins and outs of the often
frustratingly bureaucratic system within whose bounds they all had to work. It
seemed funny to him, as it did to Dulles himself, that even in the spy business
with all its clandestine operations and tight-lipped secrets, the paper pushers
and the politicians had to be given their due. Templeton and Mallory were
engaged in trying to reign in nuclear material from which an atomic bomb could
be made, and from Bill's function as a conduit in trying to acquire needed
information from the Manhattan project, he had some idea of the magnitude of
destruction that could be unleashed. Therefore, it was with a true sense of
urgency that he opened the large sealed envelope and began his collation and
correlation of the numerous reports it contained.
Two hours later, when Dulles returned from lunch, he gave
him a few minutes to settle back in, and then knocked once on the door, before
entering. "I have something on the generals."
"Let's see what you have. Bring it over to the
table." He stood and covered the short distance in a few paces, motioning
for Bill to pull out a chair.
Bill spread the papers before Dulles, ordered and organized
to present what he thought would be a logical briefing for his boss, who would
most likely be facing some tough and time sensitive decisions in very short
order. He began with no preamble. "They had no contact before February,
1944 when they were both sent to Norway to secure whatever plutonium remained
at Norsk Hydroelectric after it was rendered non functional by allied bombing and
sabotage, and to arrange for its safe transport to Germany."
Dulles's eyebrows shot up. "They were both there! Why
would Hitler send two generals to guard a shipment, even such an important
one?" It was really a rhetorical question, just one cell in the mental
spreadsheet that he was formulating, and one for which he did not expect an
answer. However, his aide no doubt felt sufficiently at ease to chime in with
his thoughts.
"Hitler was starting to get pretty paranoid, and maybe
he just wanted them there to watch each other."
"Apparently they did just that; only one of them was a
little better at it. General Schroeder appropriated the plutonium for himself,
substituted some bogus replacement and probably thought he got away with it,
but I'll bet General Waldman was on to him." Dulles leaned back as he let
his mind wander through possible scenarios, verbalizing what he thought were
the likely possibilities, more for his own benefit than that of his aide who
respectfully waited for the analysis to be completed. "Waldman knows
Schroeder took it, but doesn't know what his plans are. Must realize its value,
both tactically and financially. Can't do anything about it at the time ——
not prepared. Bet he wished he had thought of it. Has to settle on biding his
time and keeping an eye on Schroeder, while he makes plans of his own. How does
he keep tabs of Schroeder?" He paused and turned to Bill. "What
else?"
After Norway, there seems to have been some time in Germany
for both of them, although there are no specifics. Schroeder ends up in Italy
in March to take over the German troops repelling the Anzio landing, but more
importantly, to rally the men defending Monte Cassino which Hitler demands must
be held at all costs. He does a brilliant job, holding out for months against
some of the heaviest air strikes and artillery bombardments of the war. His
soldiers love and respect him, would do anything for him, and manage to repel
attack after attack until their position is finally overrun in mid May. We lost
a great number of men taking that one monastery. From then on he's pushed
slowly north as the allies hook up with the forces at Anzio and push on to
liberate Rome. The most recent position for his troops is north of Milan.
"And what of our SS general?"
"Waldman manages to get appointed to the general staff
in some minor position. There's no real information on what his duties were,
but he doesn't seem to have done much of anything. Sounds like a political
appointment; we do know that his family is wealthy and well connected. Now,
here's the interesting part. In February of this year he's transferred to Italy
where he takes charge of all the SS troops remaining there, all of them bunched
up in the north and operating in the same theatre as Schroeder's Wehrmacht. As
a member of the general staff, even a junior member, it's extremely unlikely
that he would be transferred anywhere unless he wanted to go or it was a direct
order from Hitler, and we know that the latter was not the case."
"So we have both of our generals together again and it
appears to be planned propinquity." Dulles pushed back his chair and
returned to the desk for his pipe, tapping out the residue of tobacco,
refilling the bowl from the pouch lying next to it, and puffing it back to life
from the flame of his Zippo lighter, all in almost slow motion as he used the
repetitive behavior to garner time to gather the thoughts that filled his head.
"Well, what better way to keep track of a high ranking officer than to be
on the general staff, which controlls troop movements? And by February any good
tactician, and there were quite a few on the general staff, would know that
Germany was going to lose the war within the next four to six months." He
sat on the edge of the desk and continued, gesticulating with the stem of the
pipe pointed at his aide, as he made his points. "So Waldman, either on
his own, or using the analysis of other staff members, sees the writing on the
wall and decides it's time to abandon the sinking ship. But he needs to get a
lifeboat, and that lifeboat is the plutonium. Better for him if he's in Italy,
close to Schroeder and the plutonium. Of course, he doesn't know exactly where
it is, but assumes, incorrectly, that it's with Schroeder. Through some means
he must have found out that it's been hidden in Germany, an obstacle that
prevents a simple snatch and run. If he has someone watching the General, he
knows that he's contacted us and something is going on and it involves the Bern
office. Certainly could explain his appearance in Bern. Still no proof, though,
that Julian or Kent were in cahoots."
"Sir?"
"Yes, go on, Bill."
"General Schroeder's absences from his command have
been relatively few. His trips here, for operation Crossword, you already know
about. He's been called to Berlin three times, and on two occasions he's
traveled to Munich, presumably to check on his ward. Other than that, he's been
wherever the war's taken him. General Waldman's a different story."