The Valhalla Exchange

10

It was just after ten o'clock and Colonel Hesser was working away at his desk when there was a knock at the door and Schneider entered.

Hesser glanced up eagerly. 'Any news of Schenck?'

'I'm afraid not, sir.'

Hesser threw down his pen. 'He should have been back by now. It doesn't look good.'

'I know, sir.'

'Anyway, what did you want?'

'Herr Meyer is here, sir, from the village. There's been some sort of accident. His son, I believe. He wants to know if Herr Gaillard can go down to the village with him. He's the only doctor for miles around at the moment.'

'Show him in.'

Johann Meyer was Mayor of Arlberg and owner of the village inn, the Golden Eagle. He was a tall robust-looking man with irongrey hair and beard, a well-known guide in the Bavarian Alps. Just now he was considerably agitated.

'What's the trouble, Meyer?' Colonel Hesser asked.

'It's my boy, Arnie, Herr Oberst,' Meyer said. 'Trying the quick way down the mountain again, tried jumping a tree and ended up taking a bad fall. I think he may have broken his left leg. I was wondering whether Herr Gaillard…'

'Yes, of course.' Hesser nodded to Schneider. 'Find Gaillard as fast as you can, and take him and Herr Meyer back to the village in a field car.'

'Shall I stay with him, Herr Oberst?'

'No, I need you here. Take one of the men with you and leave him there. Anyone will do. Oh, and tell Gaillard that I naturally assume that under the circumstances he offers his parole.'

Gaillard was in fact at that very moment engaged in an animated discussion about their situation with Canning and Birr.

'We can't go on like this, it's crazy,' Canning said. 'Schenck should have been back last night. Something's gone wrong.'

'Probably lying dead in a ditch somewhere,' Birr said. 'I did tell you, remember?'

'Okay, so what do we do?'

'Well,' Gaillard said. 'The garrison of this establishment is composed mainly of old men or cripples, as no one knows better than I do. I've been treating them all for months now. On the other hand they still outnumber the three of us by about seven to one and they are armed to the teeth.'

'But we can't just sit here and wait for it to happen,' Canning said.

Claire, sitting by the fire with Madame Chevalier, said, 'Has it ever occurred to you, Hamilton, that you just might be making a mountain out of a molehill here? An American or British unit could roll up to that gate at any time and all our troubles would be over.'

'And pigs might also fly.'

'You know what your trouble is?' she told him. 'You want it this way. Drama, intrigue, up to your ears in the most dangerous game of all again.'

'Now you listen to me,' he began, thoroughly angry, and then the door opened and Schneider entered.

He clicked his heels. 'Excuse me, Herr General, but Dr Gaillard is wanted urgently in the village. Herr Meyer's son has had a ski-ing accident.'

'I'll come at once,' Gaillard said. 'Just give me a moment to get my bag.'

He hurried out, followed by Schneider. Birr said, 'Always work for the healers, eh? Nice to think there are people like Gaillard around to put us together again when we fall down.'

'Philosophy now?' Canning said. 'May God preserve me.'

'Oh, he will, Hamilton. He will,' Birr said. 'I've got a feeling the Almighty has something very special lined up for you.'

As Claire and Madame Chevalier started to laugh, Canning said, 'I wonder whether you'll still be smiling when the SS drive into that courtyard down there?' and he stalked angrily from the room.

Arnie Meyer was only twelve years old and small for his age. His face was twisted in agony, the sweat springing to his forehead, trickling down from the fair hair. He had no mother and his father stood anxiously at one side of the bed and watched as Gaillard cut the trouser leg open with a pair of scissors.

He ran his fingers around the angry swelling below the right knee and, in spite of his gentleness, the boy cried out sharply.

'Is it broken, Herr Doctor?' Meyer asked.

'Without a doubt. You have splints, of course, with your mountain rescue equipment?'

'Yes, I'll get them.'

'In the meantime I'll give him a morphine injection. I'll have to set the leg and that would be too painful for him to bear. Oh, and that private Schneider left, Voss I think his name is. Send him in here. He can assist me.'

The mayor went out and Gaillard broke open a morphine ampoule. 'Were you coming down the north track again?'

'Yes, Herr Doktor.'

'How many times have I warned you? Out of sun among the trees, when it's below freezing, conditions are too fast for you. Your father says you tried to jump a tree, but that isn't true, is it?' Here, he gave the boy the injection.

Arnie winced. 'No, Herr Doktor,' he said faintly, 'I came out of the track on to the slope and tried to do a Stem Christiana like I've seen you do, only everything went wrong.'

'As well it might, you idiot,' Gaillard told him. 'Frozen ground — hardly any snow. What were you trying to do? Commit suicide?'

There was a knock at the door and Private Voss came in, a small middle-aged man with steel spectacles. He was a clerk from Hamburg whose bad eyes had kept him out of the war until the previous July.

'You wanted me, Herr Doktor?'

'I'll need your assistance in a short while to set the boy's leg. Have you ever done anything like this before?'

'No.' Voss looked faintly alarmed.

'Don't worry. You'll soon learn.'

Meyer came back a moment later with mountain-rescue splints and several rolls of bandage.

'If I had hospital facilities, I'd put this leg in a pot,' Gaillard said. 'It is absolutely essential that once it's set, it remains immobile, especially so in the case of a boy of this age. It will be your responsibility to see that he behaves himself.'

'He will, I promise you, Herr Doktor.'

'Good, now let's see how brave you can be, Arnie?'

But Arnie, in spite of the morphine, fainted dead away at the first touch. Which was all to the good, of course, for Gaillard was really able to get to work then, setting the bone with an audible crack that turned Voss's face pale. The little private hauled on the foot as instructed and held a splint on the other side from Meyer as Gaillard skilfully wound the bandages.

When he was finished, the Frenchman stepped back and smiled at Meyer. 'And now, my friend, you can serve me a very large brandy from your most expensive bottle. Nothing less than Armagnac will be accepted.'

'Do we return to the castle now, Herr Doktor?' Voss asked.

'No, my friend. We adjourn to the bar with the mayor here, who will no doubt consider your efforts no less worthy of his hospitality. We will wait there until my patient recovers consciousness, however long it takes. Possibly all day, so be prepared.'

They started downstairs and at the same moment heard a motor vehicle draw up outside. Meyer went to the window on the landing halfway down, then turned. 'There's a military ambulance outside, Herr Doktor, and it isn't German from the looks of it.'

Gaillard joined him at the window in time to see Jack Howard jump down from the passenger seat and stand looking up at the Golden Eagle, a Thompson gun under one arm.

Gaillard got the window open. 'In here,' he called in English. 'A pleasure to see you.' Howard looked up, hesitated then advanced to the door. Gaillard turned to Voss. 'A great day, my friend, perhaps the most important in your life because from this moment, for you, the war is over.'

The journey in the ambulance from the field hospital had been a total anti-climax. They had driven through countryside covered in snow, from which the population seemed to have vanished, a strange, lost land of deserted villages and shuttered farms. Most important of all, except for a few abandoned vehicles at various places, they had seen no sign of the enemy.

'But where in the hell is everybody?' Hoover demanded at one point.

'With their heads under the bed, waiting for the axe to fall,' Finebaum told him.

'Alpine Fortress,' Hoover said. 'What a load of crap. One good armoured column could go from one end of this country to the other in a day as far as I can see and nobody to stop them.' He turned to Howard. 'What do you think, sir?'

'I think it's all very mysterious,' Howard said. 'And that's good because if my map reading is correct, we're coming down into Arlberg now.'

They came round the corner, saw the village at the bottom of the hill, the spires of the castle peeping above the wooded crest on the other side of the valley.

'And there she is,' Finebaum said. 'Schloss Arlberg. Sounds like a tailor I used to know in East Manhattan.'

They drove down through the deserted street, turned into the cobbled square and halted in front of the Golden Eagle.

'Even here,' Hoover said, 'not a soul in sight. It gives me the creeps.'

Howard reached for his Thompson gun and got out of the cab. He stood there looking up at the building and then a window was thrown open and a voice called excitedly in English with a French accent, 'In here!'

Gaillard embraced the American enthusiastically. 'My friend, I don't think I've ever been more pleased to see anyone in my life. My name is Paul Gaillard. I am a prisoner with several others here at Schloss Arlberg.'

'I know,' Howard said. 'That's why we're here. Jack Howard, by the way.'

'Ah, then Schenck got through?'

'Yes, but he stopped a couple of bullets on the way. He's outside now in the ambulance.'

'Then I'd better take a look at him. I was once a doctor by profession. It has come in useful of late.'

Just then Voss appeared hesitantly at the bottom of the stairs. Finebaum called a warning from the doorway.

'Watch it, Captain.'

As he raised his M1, Gaillard hastily got in the way. 'No need for that. Although poor Voss here is technically supposed to be guarding me he has, to my certain knowledge, never fired a shot in anger in his life.' Finebaum lowered his rifle and Gaillard said to Howard, 'There will be no need for shooting by anyone, believe me. Colonel Hesser has already said that he will surrender to the first Allied troops who appear. Didn't Schenck make this clear?'

'It's been a long, hard war, Doctor,' Finebaum said. 'We only got this far by never taking a kraut on trust.'

'Like perspective, I suppose, it's all a question of your point of view,' Gaillard said. 'It has been my experience that they are good, bad or indifferent as the rest of us. Still, I'd better have a look at Schenck now. Voss, please to bring my bag.'

At the door, he paused, looking at the ambulance, then glanced along the street. 'There are no others? No one else is coming?'

'You were lucky to get us,' Howard told him.

He opened the rear door of the ambulance and Gaillard climbed inside. Schenck lay there, the heavily bandaged arm outside the blankets, the eyes closed. He opened them slowly and on finding Gaillard, managed a smile.

'So, Doctor, here we are again.'

'You did well.' Gaillard felt his pulse. 'What about Schmidt?'

'Dead.'

'He was a good man, I'm sorry. You have a slight fever. Is there much pain?'

'For the past hour it has been hell.'

'I'll give you something for that, then you can sleep.'

He opened the bag which Voss had brought, found a morphine ampoule and gave Schenck an injection, then he climbed out of the ambulance again.

'Will he be okay?' Howard asked.

'I think so.'

They went back into the inn and found Hoover and Finebaum at one end of the bar, Voss at the other looking worried. Meyer had the Armagnac out and several glasses.

'Excellent,' Gaillard said. 'Herr Meyer, here, who is Mayor of Arlberg as well as a most excellent innkeeper, was about to treat me to a shot, as I believe you Americans call it, of his best brandy. Perhaps you gentlemen will join me.'

Meyer filled the glasses hurriedly. Finebaum grabbed for his and Hoover said, 'Not yet, you dummy. This is a special occasion. It calls for a toast.'

Howard turned to Gaillard. 'I'd say it was your prerogative, Doctor.'

'Very well,' Gaillard said. 'I could drink to you, my friends, but I think the circumstances demand something more appropriate. Something for all of us. For you and me, but also for Schenck and Voss and Meyer here, all those who have suffered the disabilities of this terrible war. I give you love and life and happiness, commodities which have been in short supply for some considerable time now.'

'I'll drink to that,' Finebaum said, and emptied the glass at a swallow.

'We'd better get on up to the castle now,' Howard said.

'Where you will find them awaiting your arrival with a considerable degree of impatience, General Canning in particular,' Gaillard told him. 'I'll hang on here for the moment. I have a patient upstairs.'

'Okay, Doctor,' Howard said. 'But I'd better warn you. My orders are to pick you people up, turn straight round and get the hell out of it. I'd say you've got an hour — that's all.'

They moved outside. Finebaum said, 'What about the kraut? We take him along?'

'Voss stays with me,' Gaillard said firmly. 'I'll very probably need him.'

'Anything you say, Doctor.' Howard shoved Finebaum up into the cab of the ambulance. 'Finebaum's survived on the idea the only good one is a dead one for so long, it's become a way of life.'

'So what does that make me, some kind of animal? It means I'm alive, doesn't it?' Finebaum leaned down to Gaillard as Hoover started the engine. 'You look like a philosopher, Doc. Here's some philosophy for you. A funny thing about war. It gets easier as you go along.'

The ambulance drove away across the square. Meyer, who was standing in the porch, said in German. 'What did he say, the small one, Herr Doktor?'

'He said a terrible thing, my friend.'

Gaillard smiled sadly. 'But true, unfortunately. And now, I think, we'll take another look at this boy of yours.'

Hesser was seated at his desk writing a letter to his wife when the door was flung open unceremoniously and Schneider rushed in. He had the Alsatian with him and his excitement had even infected the dog, which circled him, whining, so that the lead got tangled in his legs.

'What is it, man?' Hesser demanded. 'What's wrong with you?'

'They're coming, Herr Oberst. A British vehicle has just started up the hill.'

'Only one? You are certain?'

'They've just phoned through from the guardhouse, Herr Oberst. An ambulance, apparently.'

'Strange,' Hesser said. 'However, we must prepare to receive them with all speed. Turn out the garrison and notify General Canning and the others. I'll be down myself directly.'

Schneider went out and Hesser sat there, hand flat on the table, a slight frown on his face. Now that the moment had come he felt curiously deflated, but then that was only to be expected. The end of something, after all, and what did he have to show for it? One arm, one eye. But there was still Gerda — and the children — and it was over now. Soon he could go home. When he got up and reached for his cap and belt he was actually smiling.

As the ambulance came out of the last bend and Schloss Arlberg loomed above them, Finebaum leaned out of the cab and looked up at the pointed roofs of the towers in awe.

'Hey, I seen this place before. The moat, the drawbridge — everything. The Prisoner of Zenda. Ronald Coleman swam across and some dame helped him in through the window.'

'That was Hollywood, this is for real, man,' Hoover said. 'This place was built to stand a siege. Those walls must be ten feet thick.'

'They're hospitable enough, that's for sure,' Howard said. 'They've left the gate open for us. Straight in, Harry, nice and slow, and let's see what we've got here.'

Hoover dropped into bottom gear and they trundled across the drawbridge. The ironbound gates stood open and they moved on through the darkness of the entrance tunnel and emerged into the great inner courtyard.

The garrison was drawn up in a single line, all eighteen of them, Colonel Hesser at the front. General Canning, Colonel Birr, Claire and Madame Chevalier stood together at the top of the steps leading up to the main entrance.

The ambulance rolled to a halt and Howard got out. Hesser called his men to attention and saluted politely. 'My name is Hesser — Oberstleutnant, 42nd Panzer Grenadiers, at present in command of this establishment. And you, sir?'

'Captain John H. Howard, 2nd Ranger Battalion, United States Army.'

Hesser turned and called, 'General Canning — Colonel Birr. Will you join me, please?'

They came down the steps and crossed the yard. It was snowing quite hard now. Howard saluted and Canning held out his hand. 'We're certainly pleased to see you, son, believe me.'

'Our pleasure, General.'

Hesser said, 'Then, in the presence of these officers as witnesses, I formally surrender this establishment, Captain Howard.' He saluted, turned and said to Schneider, 'Have the men lay down their arms.'

There was a flurry of movement. Within a matter of seconds, the men were back in line, their rifles standing in three triangular stacks before them.

Hesser saluted again. 'Very well, Captain,' he said. 'What are your orders?'

Sorsa headed the German column in one of the armoured half-tracks, Ritter and Hoffer, Strasser and Earl Jackson next in line in their field car, the rest of the Finns trailing behind.

Just after noon they emerged from a side-road to join the road from Innsbruck to Arlberg, the road along which the ambulance had passed a short time before. As they reached the crest of the hill above the village, Sorsa signalled a halt. Ritter, Strasser and Jackson got out of the field car and went to join him.

'What is it?' Ritter demanded.

'Something's passed along this road very recently. Heavy vehicle. See the tyre marks. It stopped here before starting down to the village.'

There was fresh oil on the snow. Ritter looked down the hill. 'So this is Arlberg?'

'Quiet little place, isn't it?' Earl Jackson said. 'They're certainly out of the way down there.'

Ritter held out his hand for Sorsa's field-glasses and trained them on the turrets of Schloss Arlberg peeping above the crest of the far ridge. He handed them back to Strasser. 'Nothing worth seeing. The vehicle which has preceded us could be anything, but under the circumstances, I think we should press on.'

'I agree,' Strasser said, and for the first time seemed less calm than usual, filled with a kind of nervous excitement. 'Let's get there as fast as possible and get things sewn up. We've come too far for anything to be allowed to go wrong now.'

They got back into the vehicle, Sorsa waved the column on and they started down the hill.

It was Meyer who saw them first when they were half-way down; sheer luck that he'd gone to the landing window to close it. He took one look, then hurried to the bedroom where Gaillard was checking on the boy, who was still unconscious.

'There's an SS column coming down the hill,' Meyer said. 'Three half-tracks, two field cars. About forty men in all.'

Voss's face turned deathly pale. Gaillard said, 'You're certain?'

Meyer opened a cupboard and took out an old brass telescope. 'See for yourself.'

They all went out on to the landing and Meyer levelled the telescope on the lead halftrack. Immediately the divisional signs on the vehicle leapt into view, the SS runes, the death's head painted in white. He moved on to the field car, picking out Ritter first, then Strasser.

He frowned and Meyer said, 'What is it, Herr Doktor?'

'Nothing,' Gaillard said. 'There's a civilian with them I thought I knew for a moment, but I must be wrong. They're mountain troops judging by their uniform and the skis they carry in the half-tracks.'

He closed the telescope and handed it to Meyer. Voss plucked at his sleeve. 'What are we going to do, Herr Doktor? Those devils are capable of anything.'

'No need to panic,' Gaillard said. 'Keep calm above all things.' He turned to Meyer. 'They'll be here within the next two or three minutes. Go out and meet them.'

'And what about the Americans? Look, the tracks of the ambulance are plain in the snow. What if they ask me who made them?'

'Play it by ear, that one. Whatever happens don't tell them Voss and I are here. We'll keep out of sight for the time being. We can always clear off the back way if we have to, but I want to see how the situation develops here first, and besides, Arnie is going to need me when he wakes up.'

'As you say.' Meyer took a deep breath and started downstairs as the first vehicle braked to a halt outside. Gaillard and Voss, peering round the edge of the curtain, saw Ritter, Strasser and Earl Jackson get out of the field car.

'Strange,' Gaillard said. 'One of the SS officers has a Stars and Stripes shield sewn on to his left sleeve below the eagle. What on earth does that mean?'

'I don't know, Herr Doktor,' Voss whispered. 'Where the SS are concerned, I've always kept well out of the way. Who's the one in the leather coat speaking to Meyer now? Gestapo, perhaps!'

'I don't know,' Gaillard said. 'I still have that irritating feeling we've met somewhere before.' He eased the window open in time to hear Sorsa shout an order to Matti Gestrin in the rear half-track. 'My God,' Gaillard whispered, 'they're Finns.'

He peered down at them, suddenly fearful. Hard, tough, competent-looking men, armed to the teeth, and there was only one road up to the castle, one road down. He turned and grabbed Voss by the shirt-front.

'Right, my friend, your chance to be a hero for the first time in your miserable life. Out of the back door, through the trees and take the woodcutter's track up to the castle and run till your heart bursts. Tell Hesser the SS are coming. Now get moving!' And he shoved Voss violently along the landing towards the back stairs.

As he turned to the window again, Ritter was saying to Meyer, 'From these tracks a vehicle would seem to have passed this way during the past half-hour. A heavy vehicle. What was it?'

The direct question, and in the circumstances there was only one answer Meyer could give. 'It was an ambulance, Sturmbannfuhrer. '

'A German ambulance?' Strasser asked.

'No, Mein Herr. A British Army ambulance. There were three American soldiers in the cab. One was an officer — a captain, I think.'

'And they took that street there out of the square?' Ritter nodded. 'Which leads to?'

'Schloss Arlberg.'

'And is there any other way up or down?'

'Only on foot.'

'One more question. How many men in the garrison at Schloss Arlberg now?'

Meyer hesitated, but he was a simple man with his son to consider, and Ritter's pale face, the dark eyes under the silver death's-head, were too much.

'Eighteen, Sturmbannfuhrer. Nineteen with the commandant.'

Ritter turned to the others. 'What you might call a damn close thing.'

'No problem, surely,' Strasser said.

'Let's go and see, shall we?' Ritter replied calmly, and he turned back to the field car.

Meyer waited on the step until the last half-track in the column had disappeared up the narrow street before going back inside. Gaillard was at the bottom of the stairs.

'Well?' the Frenchman demanded.

'What could I do? I had to tell them.' Meyer shivered. 'But now what, Herr Doktor? I mean, what can they do up there in the castle? Colonel Hesser has no option but to turn your friends over to the SS now.'

But before Gaillard could reply, Arnie called out feverishly from the bedroom and Gaillard turned and hurried upstairs.

In the courtyard, the prominenti were making ready to leave. Schenck had been left on board the ambulance and three German soldiers were loading the prisoners' personal belongings. Claire and Madame Chevalier waited in the porch while Hesser, Birr and Canning stood at the bottom of the steps, smoking cigarettes. Beyond the ambulance, the rest of the tiny garrison still stood in line before their stacked rifles.

It was Magda, Schneider's Alsatian, who first showed signs of agitation, whining and straining at her leash and then breaking into furious barking.

Canning frowned. 'What is it, old girl? What's wrong with you?'

There was the hollow booming of feet thundering across the drawbridge and Voss staggered out of the tunnel.

'Herr Oberst!' he called weakly, lurching from side to side like a drunken man. 'The SS are coming! The SS are coming!'

Hesser reached out his one good arm to steady Voss as he almost fell, chest heaving, sweat pouring down his face.

'What are you telling me, man?'

'SS, Herr Oberst. On their way up from the village. It's true. Finnish mountain troops in the charge of a Sturmbannfuhrer in Panzer uniform.'

Canning caught him by the arm and pulled him round. 'How many?'

'Forty or so all together. Three half-tracks and two field cars.'

'What kind of armaments did they carry?'

'There was a heavy machine gun with each vehicle, Herr General, I noticed that. The rest was just the usual hand stuff. Schmeissers, rifles and so on.'

Finebaum said to Hoover, 'They keep telling me the war's over, but here we are, the three of us, with nineteen kraut prisoners on our hands and forty of those SS bastards coming round the bend fast.'

Howard turned to Canning. 'It's an impossible situation, sir, and even if we tried to make a run for it, we'd just run slap into them. There's only one road in and out of here.'

Canning turned to face Hesser, trying to think of the right words, but strangely enough, it was Madame Chevalier who played a hand now.

'Well, Max,' she called. 'What's it to be? Checkmate or have you still got enough juice left in you to act like a man?' She moved forward, leaning on Claire's shoulder. 'Not for us, Max, not even for yourself. For Gerda, for your children.'

Max Hesser stared up at her wildly for a moment, then he turned to the garrison. 'Grab your rifles, quick as you like, Schneider — take two men, get to the guardroom on the double and shut the gates.'

There was a sudden flurry of activity. He turned to Canning, drew himself up and saluted formally. 'General Canning, as you are the senior Allied officer here, I place myself and my men at your command. What are your orders, sir?'

Canning's nostrils flared, his eyes sparkled, tension erupting from deep inside him in a harsh laugh. 'By God, that's more like it. All right, for the time being, deploy your men on the walls above the guardroom and let's see what these bastards want.' He clapped his hands together and shouted furiously, 'Come on, come on, come on! Let's get this show on the road.'