The 34th Degree

42

M ajor Ernst Dietrich, the assistant military attache to the German Legation in Bern, was a stiff, wooden man with black hair cut short and a bored, dull face. After a lonely, uneventful weekend during which his mistress never returned his calls, he was in his office Monday morning, working through some papers, when his secretary came in and said that a certain Herr Andros was outside asking to see him.

Dietrich had never heard of any Andros, unless he was somehow connected with the shipping concern, and immediately was suspicious. All the same, he could use a diversion from his never-ending office chores.

“Show him in,” he told his secretary, “but come back in a few minutes to remind me that my other appointment is waiting.”

The secretary disappeared, and Dietrich pulled open his drawer and pushed a button to begin recording. As an officer in the Abwehr, he was always interested in a possible tip, although one rarely came knocking at his door-not one that was genuine, anyway.

When Herr Andros entered, Dietrich was surprised to see a young, handsome Greek-American in a Savile Row suit. Dietrich had been expecting someone older and more distinguished-looking.

“Herr Dietrich,” said Andros as they shook hands. “Elise DeMoulin recommended I see you.”

That explains the lonely weekend, thought Dietrich. “Please, sit down, Herr Andros.”

Andros took a seat, and Dietrich sized him up as yet another of Agent Barracuda’s small fish, thrown his way because she and the SD did not deem the Greek important enough to bother with. He would keep the conversation as brief as possible.

“How can the German Legation help you?”

“It is I who wish to help you, Herr Dietrich,” said Andros. “I propose a business arrangement that would be of mutual benefit.”

“What sort of business arrangement?” Dietrich asked, unable to think of anything of value that this man could offer him.

“Smuggling,” Andros said. “I offer you regular, reliable passage through the Allied blockade.”

Dietrich leaned back in his chair and eyed his visitor. The Allied blockade had been in effect since 1939, the result of which was that no shipments destined for Switzerland, whether on Allied or neutral ships, were allowed into the ports earmarked for handling Swiss imports unless accompanied by the corresponding permit or so-called navicert. “How would you manage that, Herr Andros?”

“I am here on a humanitarian mission to secure Red Cross supplies for the people of Greece,” Andros explained. “In the process, I have also managed to secure safe passage for my other commercial vessels that fly the Swiss flag and are bound for neutral ports.” He produced the certificates with British letterheads, notifications that would allow passage of such ships through the blockade.

To Dietrich’s amazement, the documents actually appeared genuine. “Herr Andros, where did you get these?”

“Courtesy of the blockade authority,” Andros said. “Normally, navicerts are issued on an individual basis and only after the exporting firm has filed a special application. Under the new inverted system, the blockade authority issues the Swiss government a block permission to distribute navicerts for agreed-upon quantities of imports. Thanks to my contacts in the Swiss government, Andros Shipping has been authorized to carry the bulk of the latest consignments, about forty thousand tons, under the Swiss flag.”

It made sense to Dietrich now. Perhaps Herr Andros was telling the truth. Perhaps not. Perhaps this was a trap.

“All you have to do,” Andros went on, “is arrange for your consignments to be loaded in falsely marked crates at neutral ports of departure such as Rio, Stockholm, Lisbon, or Istanbul. Thanks to my navicerts, the Allies will then allow my ships safe passage through the blockade to the designated Swiss ports of Genoa, Trieste, and Marseille, all of which are occupied by the Axis. There we unload the consignments, and you can carry them by rail to Germany or any destination you like.”

Dietrich considered what this man was saying but could only wonder why he should come to the legation in broad daylight, when his visit could be spotted so easily by Allied spies and Swiss Bupo. He handed the navicerts back. “Tell me, Herr Andros, why would you jeopardize your neutrality to help the Axis?”

Andros looked a bit sheepish. “I must confess that I first approached the American Legation here with the idea. But they accused me of already doing for Germany what I am proposing to you. That is why Andros Shipping is on the blacklist.” He threw up his hands in a gesture of futility. “If such is my position with the Allies, I might as well be compensated.”

“What form of compensation do you seek?”

“A hundred thousand American dollars.”

“One hundred thousand dollars!”

At that moment Dietrich’s secretary returned to remind him that his nonexistent appointment was waiting.

“That is not within my authority,” Dietrich concluded, although the prospect of establishing a secret, secure supply route through the blockade under the noses of the Allies was too attractive to pass up. “Excuse me for a moment, please.”

He left Andros waiting in his office and darted to Herr Kocher’s suite. Inside the large, tastefully appointed room, he found the German minister seated behind a huge desk below an equally imposing oil painting of Hitler. Seated opposite him, to Dietrich’s surprise, was the SD’s top agent in Bern, the Barracuda herself. Once again Dietrich realized he was the last man in the know, for as he approached Herr Kocher’s desk, Elise gave him a defiant smile and demanded, “Well?”

Dietrich, resigned to the probability that the minister knew more about the situation than he did, explained, “Andros wants to strike a deal with us, Herr Kocher, to smuggle supplies through the Allied blockade. The navicerts have already been issued. He wants one hundred thousand American dollars.”

The minister exchanged glances with the Barracuda before he leaned back in his chair and looked at Dietrich pensively. “This must be a trap, a trick to compromise us,” Kocher responded. “Suppose this Andros is an agent provocateur, here to make a deal with us and then expose us. His rendezvous with us is proof enough to the Swiss to have us kicked out of the country.”

“I have investigated Andros thoroughly,” the Barracuda assured the German ambassador with what Dietrich considered unnerving confidence. “I can confirm that he is a blacklisted businessman in danger of losing Andros Shipping altogether without some immediate hard currency. He also strikes me as a man who would go to any extreme to obtain what he wants.”

“But one hundred thousand dollars-so large a sum,” Kocher said.

“I didn’t say that’s what he wanted, Herr Kocher,” said the Barracuda. “He could very well be a spy. But whatever he’s after is worth our attention.”

“Whatever he’s after, I’m in no position to grant him, certainly not one hundred thousand dollars,” said Kocher. “Dietrich, you inform Herr Andros that we’ll be in touch. When you return, we’ll draft a cable to Berlin to see how we are to proceed.”