The Valhalla Exchange

11

The column, Sorsa still leading the way in the front half-track, was no more than fifty yards from the castle entrance when the gates clanged shut. Sorsa immediately signalled a halt.

Ritter stood up in the field car and called, 'Line of assault. Quickly now.'

The Finns moved into action instantly. The other two half-tracks took up position on either side of Sorsa, the machine-gun crews made themselves ready for action, the rest of the men jumped to the ground and fanned out.

There was silence for a moment after the engines were cut. Ritter raised his field-glasses and looked to where there was movement on the wall.

'What is it? What's happening?' Strasser demanded.

'Interesting,' Ritter said softly. 'I see American helmets up there together with German ones. Perhaps the Third World War has started?'

On the wall, Canning, Birr, Hesser and Howard grouped together in the shelter of the west guardroom turret and peered out.

'Now what?' Birr said. He carried a Schmeisser in one hand, and Canning a Walther pistol.

'We'll stir things up a bit, just to show them we mean business.' Canning moved to where Schneider crouched beside the machine-gun crew who had positioned their weapons to point out through an embrasure beside one of the castle's eighteenth-century cannon. 'I want you to fire a long burst into the ground about ten yards in front of the lead half-track,' he said in German.

Schneider turned in alarm and looked to Hesser. 'Herr Oberst, what do I do?'

'As General Canning commands,' Hesser said. 'We are under his orders now.'

Schneider patted the lead gunner on the shoulder. He was another reservist, a man named Strang, who like most of them had never in his life fired a shot in anger. He hesitated, sweat on his face, and Finebaum slung his M1, pushed him out of the way and grabbed for the handles.

'Maybe you got qualms, Uncle, but not me.'

He squeezed off a long burst, swinging the barrel so that snow and gravel spurted in a darting line right across the front of the halftracks.

Ritter turned, arms flung wide. 'No return fire. It's a warning only.'

Hoover whispered to Howard, 'Did you see that? Those guys didn't even move.'

Finebaum got up and turned. 'They're hot stuff, Harry, believe me. I tell you, this thing could get very interesting.'

Ritter jumped down from the field car and Sorsa moved to meet him. 'Do we go in?'

'No, first we talk. They'll want to talk, I think.' He turned to Strasser. 'You agree?'

'Yes, I think so. Hesser will already be beginning to have second thoughts. Let's give him a chance to change his mind.'

'Good,' Ritter said, and called to Hoffer, 'Over here, Erich. We'll go for a little walk, you and I.'

'Zu befehl, Sturmbannfuhrer,' Hoffer replied crisply.

'I, too, could do with some exercise, I think,' Strasser said. 'If you've no objection, Major Ritter?'

'As you like.'

Strasser turned to Earl Jackson. 'You stay back out of the way. Borrow a parka and get the hood up. I don't want them to see you, you understand?'

Jackson frowned, but did as he was told, moving back to one of the half-tracks.

Sorsa said, 'What if they open fire?'

'Then you'll have to take command, won't you?' Ritter said and started forward.

Their feet crunched in the snow. Ritter took out his case, selected a cigarette and offered one to Strasser.

'No thank you. I never use them. You are surprised, I think, that I felt the need for exercise?'

'Perhaps. On the other hand I could say that it shows confidence in my judgement.'

'Or a belief in my own destiny, have you considered that?'

'A point of view, I suppose. If it's of any comfort, good luck to you.'

On the wall, Canning said, 'By God, he's a cool one, the devil in black out there. Obviously in need of conversation.'

'What do we do, General?' Hesser asked.

'Why, accommodate him, of course. You, me and Captain Howard here. Not you Justin. You stay up here in command, just in case some trigger-happy jerk in one of the half-tracks decides to open up.' He smiled savagely, giving every appearance of thoroughly enjoying himself. 'All right, gentlemen. Let's see what they have to say.'

Ritter, Strasser and Erich Hoffer paused at their side of the drawbridge and waited. After a while, the small judas in the main gate opened and Canning stepped out, followed by Hesser and Howard. As they came forward, Ritter and his party moved also and they met in the middle of the drawbridge.

Ritter saluted and said in excellent English, 'Sturmbannfuhrer Karl Ritter, 502nd SS Heavy Tank Battalion at present in command of this unit, and this is Herr Strasser.'

'Of the Prisoner of War Administration Department in Berlin,' Strasser put in.

'And I am Brigadier General Hamilton Canning of the Army of the United States, Captain Howard here Second Rangers. Oberstleutnant Hesser, you may know.'

It was all very polite, very formal, except for Jack Howard, whose face had turned deathly pale and who clutched the Thompson gun in his hands till the knuckles turned white. There was life in his eyes again for the first time in days, for he had recognized Ritter instantly.

'What can we do for you?' Canning said.

'Oberstleutnant Hesser.' Strasser produced the Hitler Directive and unfolded it. 'I have here an order from my department in Berlin signed, as you will see, by the Fuhrer himself, ordering you to place the five prisoners remaining at Schloss Arlberg in my care.'

He held out the letter. Max Hesser waved it away. 'Too late, gentlemen. I surrendered my command to Captain Howard on his arrival not more than thirty minutes ago. General Canning is in command here now.'

There was silence for a while. The snow falling harder than ever, a sudden, small wind churning it into a miniature blizzard that danced around them.

Strasser said, 'This is a totally illegal act, Colonel Hesser. To my certain knowledge there has been no general surrender, no discussion of peace terms; cannot be while the Fuhrer still lives to direct the struggle of the German people from his headquarters in Berlin.'

'There has been a surrender here,' Hesser said, 'according to the rules of war. I have done nothing dishonourable.'

'A surrender to three members of the American Army?' Strasser said. 'You tell me there is nothing dishonourable in this?'

'You will speak to me if you please,' Canning said. 'As this gentleman has made plain, I command here now as senior Allied officer present.'

'No, General, I think not,' Ritter said calmly. 'Our business is with the officer in command of Schloss Arlberg, and to us he must still be Oberstleutnant Max Hesser until relieved of that duty by the High Command of the German Army.' He turned to Hesser. 'You took an oath, Colonel Hesser, as did we all, I think. An oath as a German soldier to your Fuhrer and the State.'

'To a madman,' Hesser said. 'Who has brought Germany to her knees.'

'But also to the State, to your country,' Ritter said. 'You and I are soldiers, Hesser, as General Canning here and Captain Howard. No difference. We play the game on our side, they on theirs. We can't hope to change the rules in the middle to suit our personal convenience. Not any of us. Is that not so, General?'

It was Howard who answered him. 'Is that how you see it? A game? Nothing more?'

'Perhaps,' Ritter said. 'The greatest game of all where the stakes are a country and its people, and if a man can't stand by his own, he is less than nothing.'

He turned back to Hesser, waiting. Hesser said, 'It is my information that a direct order has gone to the SS from the Fuhrer himself, authorizing the execution of all prominent prisoners. I consider this order monstrous. A direct violation of the Geneva Convention and a crime against humanity. I will not be a party to it and neither will the men of this garrison.'

Strasser said, 'This is, of course, total nonsense. A tissue of lies. As the representative for this area of the Prisoner of War Administration Department, I can give you my word on this absolutely.'

'Then why do you want us?' Canning asked. 'Tell me that?'

'All prominent prisoners are being brought together in one centre, for their own protection.'

'As hostages against the evil day?'

'A sensible precaution only, Herr General, I assure you.'

'Who for — you or us?'

There was another brief silence. The snow danced around them. Hesser said slowly, 'I stand by what I have done. General Canning is in command here now.'

'Which just about wraps it up,' Canning said. 'I can't see that we have anything further to discuss. If you'll take the advice of an old hand, Major, I'd say you and your men had better get the hell out of here while you still can. Let's go, gentlemen.'

He turned and walked back towards the gate briskly, Hesser at his side. Howard stayed there, holding the Thompson gun across his chest. Hoffer never took his eyes off him, his hand close to the butt of the holstered Walther at his belt. Ritter ignored him as he lit a cigarette calmly and examined the gate, the walls above.

'It would seem they mean business,' Strasser said.

Ritter nodded. 'So it would appear.'

He turned on his heel. Howard said, 'Major Karl Ritter, of the 502nd SS Heavy Tank Battalion, you said?'

Ritter turned slowly. 'That is correct.'

'We've met before.'

'Have we?'

'Last Wednesday morning. That little affair on the way to Innsbruck when you took out an entire British armoured column. I was one of the survivors, along with my two friends up there on the wall.'

'Congratulations,' Ritter said calmly. 'Your luck is good.'

'You can tell your man there to take his hand off the butt of that Walther. I'm not going to kill you — yet. I mean, that wouldn't be playing this game of yours according to the rules, now would it?'

'Your choice, my friend.'

'You'll be coming in?' Howard said. 'Or you'll try to?'

'Yes, I think so.'

'I'll be looking for you.'

Canning called from the gate, 'Captain Howard.' Howard turned and ran back through the snow.

'He means it, that one,' Strasser said. 'For the past five minutes I've had a finger on the trigger, imagining I might have to put another hole through the pocket of my coat. I wonder if he knew?'

'Oh, yes,' Ritter said. 'He knew'; and he turned and led the way back to the halftracks.

'What in the hell kept you?' Canning demanded as Howard slipped inside and the gates closed. 'Go on — up on the wall and tell Colonel Birr I'll join you in a couple of minutes.'

Howard mounted the stone steps and Canning turned to Hesser. 'As I recall, you raised the drawbridge six or seven months back?'

'That's right, Herr General. To see if it was working.'

'Then let's see if the damn thing still does.'

Hesser nodded to Schneider, who immediately opened the door at the foot of the tower on the left-hand side of the gate and led the way in. He switched on the light, disclosing a massive steel drum, ten feet across, chains wrapped around it, lifting up into the gloom. There were great spoked wheels on either side.

'Let's get it done.' Canning moved to one of the wheels, Schneider ran to the other, and together they started to turn.

Howard crouched beside the cannon, peering out through the embrasure, watching Ritter and his two companions walk back towards the Finns. Hoover and Finebaum dropped down beside him.

'What was going on out there, Captain?' the sergeant asked. 'Between you and the kraut officer?'

'It was him,' Howard said. 'The guy who took the column out Wednesday. His name's Ritter — Karl Ritter.'

'The guy in the Tiger who flattened the jeep?' Finebaum demanded. 'Are you saying that's him out there?' He raised the M1 and leaned across the cannon. 'Jesus, maybe I can still get him.'

Howard pulled him down. 'Not now,' he said. 'And anyway, he's mine.'

'Attack now!' Strasser said. 'The only way. Use the front half-track as a battering ram. Straight in while they're still wondering what our next move will be.'

'There are twenty armed men on that wall, armed to the teeth. At least one heavy machine gun mounted beside the old cannon between the turrets. I had a good look at that while I was lighting my cigarette. Rate of fire not far short of a thousand rounds a minute. You served in the first war, did you not, Herr Strasser? I should have thought you might have remembered what happens to those who attempt frontal attacks on heavy machine guns, skilfully positioned.'

'And in any case, the argument now becomes a wholly academic one.' Sorsa pointed and Strasser and Ritter turned in time to see the end of the drawbridge lift above the moat.

They watched as it continued its steady progress and finally came to a halt. Strasser said, 'So, a situation which can only be described as medieval. Impossible for us to get in…'

'And equally impossible for them to get out,' Ritter said.

'Which is, after all, the important thing. There is one thing which worries me, however.'

'What's that?' Strasser asked.

'The question of radio communication with the outside world. A distress call at random might well be picked up by some Allied unit or other in the vicinity.'

'No danger of that,' Strasser said. 'They've had problems in the communications room at Schloss Arlberg for several days now. Believe me, Major, there is no way in which they can communicate with the outside world.'

'Another example of your flair for organization, I presume,' Ritter said. 'Anyway, that problem being solved, we will now leave, I think.'

'You mean that literally or do you have a plan?'

'The fact of our going may comfort the general and his friends, however temporarily. The question of planning must wait until I've handled the immediate situation.' He nodded to Sorsa. 'Move out and stop the column around the first bend out of sight of the castle.'

'Zu befehl, Sturmbannfuhrer.'

From the walls, Canning and the others watched them go.

'What do you think, Hamilton?' Birr asked.

'I'm not sure,' Canning said. 'Strasser, the guy who said he was from the Prisoner of War Administration Department, intrigues me. I'm sure I've seen the bastard before somewhere.'

'And the other one — Ritter?'

'The kind who never lets go? Did you see his medals, for Christ's sake?'

'He has quite a reputation, this man,' Hesser said. 'Something of a legend. A great tank destroyer on the Eastern Front. They made much of him in the magazines last year.'

'And Strasser — you've never seen him before?'

'No — never.'

Canning nodded. 'Right, this is what we do. I want two lookouts in the top of the north tower linked to here by field telephone. From up there they should be able to see outside the walls for the entire circuit. Any kind of movement must be instantly reported. I want the rest of the garrison split into three fire parties of six or seven each, ready to rush to any point on the wall as directed by the lookouts.' He turned to Howard. 'You take charge of that operation with Hoover. Finebaum can accompany me as my runner.'

'I'm with you, General,' Finebaum said. 'We'll make a hell of a team, believe me.' He raised a hand deprecatingly. 'No disrespect intended, General.'

'Which remains to be seen.' Canning turned to Hesser. 'And now, I want to see the armoury. Everything you've got here.'

Beyond the first bend in the road, the column had halted. Ritter said to Sorsa, 'I'm returning to the village now. I'll take Sergeant-Major Gestrin and four men with me. They can use the other field car. You stay here with the half-tracks. I want fifteen or twenty men on skis circling those walls without pause. Keep to the woods, but make sure they can be seen. Field telephone communication at all times.'

'And then what?' Sorsa asked.

'I'll let you know,' Ritter said.

Paul Gaillard and Meyer were at the landing window as the two field cars drove into the square and pulled up outside the Golden Eagle. Gestrin and his men carried their skis in theirs and had a field radio.

Gaillard said, 'Better go down and find out what they want. I'll hide in the cupboard in the dressing room again if I hear anyone coming.'

Meyer went downstairs as the front door opened and Ritter led the way into the bar. Strasser and Jackson followed, then Hoffer, carrying Strasser's suitcase containing the radio.

Strasser said to Meyer, 'You have a room I can use personally?'

Meyer, with little option in the matter, said, 'Through here, Mein Herr. My office.'

'Excellent.' Strasser turned to Earl Jackson. 'Tell me, the American pilot's uniform — they managed to procure one for you?'

'It's in the Dakota,' Jackson told him.

'Good. I want you to run up there now in one of the field cars and get it. Take a couple of Gestrin's men with you. And I want you back here as soon as possible.'

Jackson hesitated, a look of puzzlement on his face, and Strasser said, 'No questions — just do it.'

Jackson turned and went out. Strasser picked up his case. 'And now,' he said to Ritter, 'if you will excuse me, I have a little communicating to do,' and he nodded to Meyer and followed him out.

Hoffer went behind the bar. 'A drink, Sturmbannfuhrer? '

'Why not?' Ritter said. 'Brandy, I think,' and then he gave a slight exclamation and crossed the room quickly.

On the opposite wall hung a large framed eighteenth-century print of Schloss Arlberg, a perfect plan of the entire castle, every walk, every strongpoint, all clearly defined.

The armoury contained few surprises. Perhaps a dozen extra Schmeissers, twenty spare rifles, a couple of boxes of grenades, some plastic explosive. No heavy stuff at all.

'Plenty of ammunition, that's one good thing,' Canning said. He hefted a couple of Walther service pistols and said to the others, 'All right, let's go and see the ladies.'

They found Madame Chevalier warming herself in front of the log fire in the upper dining hall in the north tower. Canning said, 'Where's Claire?'

'She went to her room. She was feeling the cold very badly. We stood outside too long.'

Canning held up the Walther. 'You know how to use one of these things?'

'I play a different instrument as you well know.'

'You'd better learn this one fast, believe me.' He turned to Finebaum. 'See if you can get the finer points across to Madame Chevalier in a fast five minutes, soldier.'

'Anything you say, General.'

Madame Chevalier looked him over, horror on her face, and Finebaum tried his most ingratiating smile. 'They tell me you play piano, lady? You know "GI Jive"?'

Madame Chevalier closed her eyes momentarily, then opened them again. 'If you could show me how the pistol works now,' she said.

When Canning tried the handle on Claire's door it was locked. He knocked and called her name. It was two or three minutes before the bolt was drawn back and she peered out at him. Her eyes seemed very large, the face pale.

'I'm sorry, Hamilton. Come in,' she said.

He walked past her into the bedroom. 'You don't look too good.'

'As a matter of fact, I've just been thoroughly sick. I panicked down there when I heard that the SS had arrived.'

Canning remembered how her husband had died. 'It made you think of Etienne and what happened to him?'

When she looked up at him, her face was very pale. 'No, it made me think of myself, Hamilton. You see I'm a total physical coward and the very thought of those devils…'

He placed a finger on her lips and took the Walther from his pocket. 'I've brought you a life preserver. You know how to use it, I believe.'

She took it from him, holding it in both hands. 'On myself,' she said. 'Before I allow them to take me from this place.'

'Hush,' Canning kissed her gently. 'Nobody's taking you anywhere, believe me. Now come down and join the others.'

Ritter had taken down the print from the wall and was examining it closely when Strasser entered.

'A useful find,' Ritter told him. 'A plan of Schloss Arlberg.'

'Never mind that now,' Strasser said. 'I've made an even more interesting discovery. Hoffer, bring friend Meyer in here.'

'What is it?' Ritter inquired.

'It appears that a certain Dr Paul Gaillard is actually on the premises. Meyer's boy broke a leg this morning.'

'You're sure of this?'

'Oh yes, my informant is completely reliable.'

Ritter frowned. 'You've been on the radio. Where to? The Castle? You mean you've actually got an agent planted up there? I really must congratulate you, Reichsleiter. My apologies — Herr Strasser. That really is taking organization to the outer limits.'

'I do like efficiency you see, Major. A fatal flaw, if you like, all my life.'

The door opened and Hoffer ushered Meyer into the room. Strasser turned to him and smiled. 'So, Herr Meyer, it would appear you have not been strictly honest with us.'

A few moments later Paul Gaillard, bending over the still unconscious boy, heard footsteps on the stairs. They approached the door confidently. He hesitated, then withdrew into the dressing room and stepped into the cupboard.

There was a long period of silence, or so it seemed — a slight creaking and then, quite unexpectedly, the cupboard door opened and light flooded in.

Ritter was standing there. He didn't bother to draw his pistol, simply smiled and said, 'Dr Gaillard, I believe? Your patient seems to be reviving.'

Gaillard hesitated, then brushed past him and went into the other room where he found Strasser and Meyer bending over the boy, who was moaning feverishly.

Meyer turned in appeal to Ritter, his concern wholly for his son now. 'When you first arrived, Sturmbannfuhrer, we didn't know what to think, the doctor and I. And there was the boy to consider.'

'Yes, I can see that,' Ritter said. 'How bad is he?'

'Not good,' Gaillard said. 'A badly broken leg — high fever. He needs constant attention, that's why I stayed. But I can't have you lot in here. You'll have to go.'

Ritter glanced at Strasser, who nodded slightly. Gaillard was ignoring them, sponging the boy's forehead. 'So, you didn't manage to get into the castle it would seem.'

'We will, Doctor, we will,' Ritter said. 'I'll have to put a sentry in here, of course, but we'll leave you to it for now.'

He nodded to Meyer, who went out. Gaillard said, 'All right, if you must, I suppose.' He glanced up, saw Strasser for the first time. His mouth opened wide, there was a look of astonishment on his face. 'Good God, I know you.'

'I don't think so,' Strasser said. 'My name is Strasser of the Prisoner of War Administration Department in Berlin, as the major here will confirm.'

Gaillard turned to Ritter, who smiled. 'We'll leave you to your patient, Doctor,' and he ushered Strasser outside and closed the door.

'Bormann,' Gaillard whispered. 'When was it we were introduced? Munich, 1935? Reichsleiter Martin Bormann. I'd stake my life on it.'

And at the same moment in the bunker in Berlin, Martin Bormann and General Wilhelm Burgdorf, Hitler's army adjutant, waited in the central passage outside the Fuhrer's personal suite. As the man who had delivered the poison with which Field-Marshal Erwin Rommel had been obliged to kill himself after the July 20th plot, it might have been thought that Burgdorf would have been used to such situations, but just now he looked terrified and was sweating profusely.

At 3.30 there was a pistol shot. Martin Bormann rushed into the Fuhrer's suite, followed by his valet, Heinz Linge and Colonel Otto Gunsche, his SS adjutant. The room reeked of the cyanide which Eva Hitler had used to take her life. The Fuhrer sprawled beside her, his face shattered.

Dr Stumpfegger, the Fuhrer's personal doctor, and Linge, the valet, carried the body up to the Chancellery garden, wrapped in a grey blanket. Martin Bormann came next, carrying Eva Hitler.

A curious incident then took place, for the Fuhrer's chauffeur, Erich Kempka, was reminded of the fact that in life Bormann had been Eva Hitler's greatest enemy. He stepped forward and took her body from the Reichsleiter for it did not seem right to him to leave her in his charge.

The bodies were placed in a shallow pit and fifty gallons of petrol poured over them and set on fire. As the flames cascaded into the sky, those present stood at attention, arms extended in a final party salute.

The Russians, at that point in time, were perhaps 150 yards away from the bunker.