The Hess Cross (6 page)

"Who won the real battle?" Crown asked, not knowing what else to say.

Smithson staged a hearty laugh that flapped his cheeks and said, "Alexander, of course, but we don't let that influence the game. In fact, Richard has already changed the course of history."

Crown had never heard anyone call the Priest "Richard" in the six years he had been working for him.

Smithson pointed to a long line of Greek soldiers and said, "I'd been hoping to use Alexander's Arbela maneuver. I was advancing my men in a long diagonal line against the left center of the Persians, and then I closed them together in an arrow formation."

Smithson picked up an intricately molded and exquisitely painted soldier on horseback, squinted at the plume on his helmet, and said, "Half the Persian squadrons advanced against the light troops, opening a gap in Darius' line. At that point, the Greek heavy cavalry dashed through the gap and flanked the Persians from the rear. Unfortunately, Richard marched forward with the left line of troops and didn't open the gap. As you can see, I'm in a quandary now. I was counting on Richard to do as Darius had done. Of course, my wedge may merely be a feint while I prepare some other nasty maneuver."

Smithson stared intently at the Greeks, and then his eyes
darted to each of the Persian squadrons. If a nasty maneuver existed, he wasn't aware of it yet.

"Well," Sackville-West said, interrupting Smithson's concentration, "to business."

He sat in a chair behind the study's massive desk. It was a subtle reminder to Smithson of their respective ranks. Neither had Sackville-West heard a subordinate call him by his first name.

After Crown and Smithson were seated in the uncomfortable metal chairs facing the desk, Sackville-West began, "I was grieved to hear of Miguel Maura's death. He was half of our best field team. And, after a rather . . . uh . . . faltering start, I had grown to like the man. I understand how you feel."

"Thank you, sir." The condolences were much more than Crown had expected.

"John, do you remember reading about Rudolf Hess's flight into Scotland in May of last year?"

"Sure. It was on the front pages for a week. It would've been hard to miss."

"Quite so. It was in the papers in Scotland, England, the U.S., and almost everywhere else. But not for long in Germany. I'll get to that in a moment. Let me fill you in on Herr Hess."

Sackville-West referred to a sheet of paper on the desk and said, "Hess was born in Alexandria, Egypt, where his father was in the importing business. He attended schools in Alexandria, Godesberg, Neuchâtel, and Hamburg. In the Great War he served on the western front and was wounded at Verdun. Later he was transferred to the German Air Force and became a pursuit pilot. After the war he studied at the University of Munich."

"Sounds undistinguished so far," interrupted Smithson. Sackville-West's eyes shot to Smithson in answer. A hard look from the Priest would silence anyone.

"Hess first heard Hitler speak in 1921 and soon became one of the first non-thugs to join the Nazi party. Hitler displayed him just as he displayed Göring, to give credibility to their movement. In 1923 Hess participated in the Beer Hall putsch, and in 1924 he was jailed with Hitler and several of his Nazi cronies in the Landsberg prison, where Hitler dictated his political testament,
Mein Kampf
, to Hess."

Sackville-West paused to reach for the pitcher of water on the desk, and Crown asked, "Was being Hitler's secretary Hess's primary role?" Crown wanted to ask what Hess had to do with his being assigned to Chicago.

"Yes, but much more than that. He was also Hitler's confidant. Until 1932 he held no rank in the party, but he was seen everywhere with Hitler. Hitler soon allowed him to emerge, and Hess became chairman of the central commission of the Nazi party in December 1932. In April 1933 he was promoted to deputy führer, and a few months later to Reich minister for party affairs. Other Nazi leaders came and went, usually violently, but Hess was a permanent fixture. When he flew to Scotland in 1941, he was the third most powerful man in Germany, behind Hitler and Göring."

"If he was in such a favored position, why did he desert Germany?" Crown asked.

"We don't know. Apparently it took Hitler by surprise, and the Nazis were extremely embarrassed. At first the German press said nothing, but soon they had to face his absence and explain it to the German people. Goebbels bungled this propaganda job. At first the official line was that Hess had a history of mental disturbances and that he was hallucinating on the night he flew to Scotland. But this was even further embarrassing, because it was an admission that someone who had risen so high in the party had been insane. So the Reich minister for people's enlightenment and propaganda clarified the derangement stories by
saying that injuries received at Verdun had flared up and hampered Hess's thought processes. So the German press said Hess was a good German, an idealist, who couldn't help what he did. Five days after Hess landed in Scotland, his name disappeared from German newspapers and has not been seen since. He had officially ceased to exist."

"That's what the Germans were told. What does Hitler actually believe?" Crown asked.

"We don't know that, either. But three days after the flight, Hitler called in Nazi leaders and gave them a pep talk. Hess's journey apparently shocked and demoralized the Nazi party."

"Imagine how sorry I am to hear that," Crown said.

Sackville-West laughed softly and went on, "The popular belief in England and the U.S. is that Hess wanted to contact Tory appeasers who might consider a bargain with Germany whereby Hitler would attack the Soviet Union if Great Britain made peace with Germany. With a nonaggression pact with England, Hitler could concentrate his forces on Stalin. Hitler has been lusting after Russia's natural resources for a decade."

"Could Hess have had Hitler's secret approval for the flight?"

"Perhaps. But Hess didn't have concrete proposals for peace or suggestions for further contact. In addition, such intercountry contacts can be made through Switzerland or Spain. It wasn't necessary to forfeit the third most important man in Germany to do so. No, the embarrassment of Hess's flight more than outweighed any benefit he could have supplied as a courier of a peace feeler."

Smithson swiveled his bulk to Crown and said, "Hess was thrown into an English prison soon after he arrived. And then he started to crack up."

"Well, Everette," Sackville-West said as he continued to
look at Crown, intending to keep this a two-way conversation, "that's only partly correct. In the year after his flight, Hess was given the most intensive psychological tests ever conducted on a human being. The foremost psychiatrists in England spent months with him. I have their reports here." He lifted a bulky loose-leaf volume off the desk. "It's dry reading, so let me summarize. Hess began showing a breakdown of his thought processes several weeks after his flight. These were characterized by rambling speech and lapses in memory. At times he said he couldn't remember his wife's name or the names of his close associates in the Nazi party. He also developed an increased psychological dependence on homeopathic drugs, which are regarded by doctors as useless. But if they are taken away from Hess, he assumes an infantile behavior pattern. He won't eat, he won't participate in interviews with the psychiatrists, and on and on."

"Why don't they just let him starve?" Crown asked. "It's a rare man who can starve long enough to do himself any damage."

"Because Hess has become an invaluable source of information, and we don't want to stop the flow of facts and figures by angering him. Have you ever heard of the European Documentation Center?"

"No. It sounds like a purposefully vague title."

"It is. The EDC is associated with Oxford University and is officially in charge of cataloging information about Nazi Germany gleaned from German newspapers. It does some of this to maintain its front. Actually, the EDC is the British government's organization to interrogate Nazi defectors."

"Does 'interrogate' mean polite questions or something harsher?" asked Crown. In many countries the gentle questions are routinely followed by brutal and usually effective
methods of eliciting information. In Spain he had once been on the painful receiving end during such a question-and-answer session conducted by the infamous Dr. Bull, as the torturer liked to call himself. Dr. Bull was dead. Miguel Maura had seen to that.

"Merely questions, of course. The British don't engage in other types of activity," Sackville-West answered as he smiled thinly. When pressed hard enough, all countries resort to torture. "Seriously, EDC questions only defectors who voluntarily give information. This requires specialists, though, because most enemy soldiers who cross want to give only enough information to prove the sincerity of their defection. Other information can be pried from them after meticulous questioning, always with the understanding the defector will be sent back to his homeland if he withholds facts."

"Cross" referred to crossing the English Channel. England's topography dictates that an enemy who defects must cross the channel. In the intelligence world, "cross" had come to mean a defector who was in his heart a defector, a genuine article ready to provide information. Crossers are distinguished from enemy plants, who are ordered to act as if they have defected to give false information.

Sackville-West carefully opened his attaché case on the end of the desk. He was the only person alive who knew how to open it without being injured. He took out a thin manila folder and leaned over the desk to hand it to Crown. Crown saw three green stripes across the top of the folder. These indicated a 3A security clearance, the only clearance he did not have. He was forbidden to look at the contents unless directed to do so by one who had a 3A. There was no English or American clearance Sackville-West did not have, and he instructed, "Please review the first page."

There were several onionskin pages in the folder, each with three green stripes. The first page read:

EUROPEAN DOCUMENTATION CENTER PERSONNEL

      
Josef Ludendorf, chief, born 1883, Munich, Germany. Parents: Karl Ludendorf, central-post-office official, and Gerda Botsch Ludendorf, housewife. Middle-income. Owned a small home.

      
Josef Ludendorf educated in Munich public schools. Excellent marks. Entered University of Munich in 1901. Studied romantic languages and history. From studies and travels after graduation in 1905 learned French, Spanish, English, and Italian.

      
Offered post at University of Munich in languages department. Taught at university for next thirty years. No reports of early political activity.

      
Ludendorf appointed chairman of University of Munich student newspaper in 1928. Guided editorial policy of the newspaper. In 1933 newspaper began publishing editorials critical of new National Socialist German Workers' party and its leader, Adolf Hitler. Editorials continued until 1934, when Ludendorf fled Germany after threatened with indefinite sentence in concentration camp for political prisoners.

      
Ludendorf joined Oxford University faculty in 1935. Taught graduate-level languages and German history. Made a full professor in 1938, a remarkable achievement.

      
In 1939 Ludendorf asked by British government to form European Documentation Center. Reduced his classwork at Oxford and assumed EDC responsibilities. In March 1940, at urging of the British government, requested leave of absence from Oxford to assume full-time work at EDC. Headed EDC since that time.

      
Never married. Both parents died 1918 of flu. One brother has managerial position with small foundry near Munich.

When Crown looked up from the file, Sackville-West continued, "What that doesn't tell you is how successful the EDC has been. Since 1939 they have questioned over seventy Germans. Some, of course, don't give much information, but others have been invaluable sources of not only general
knowledge about the German economy and government, but often of specific military information."

Again Sackville-West reached into his attaché case and opened a folder. He laid it on the desk in front of him and leafed through several pages. Each had green stripes. Crown glanced at Smithson, whose substantial bulk was perched anxiously on the edge of the metal chair. Different grades of security clearances between the three men and different needs to know were the reasons for the paper shuffling. Sackville-West had not read the Ludendorf biography aloud because in the agency one was told only what he needed to know. Apparently Crown needed to know about Ludendorf. Smithson did not.

After arranging the papers, Sackville-West produced a pipe from the case and tapped various pockets of his suit to find his tobacco. "Are you familiar with the Libyan campaign?" he asked.

"No, other than it was a tremendous British success in late 1940," Crown answered, wanting to suggest that the tobacco might also be in the briefcase.

"Well, in the fall of 1940, General Wavell was in command of the British expedition in Africa. He had only fifty-one thousand troops, a partly equipped tank brigade, and an air force that was laughable."

Sackville-West paused to reach into the case to find the tobacco. He put a pinch in the pipe and tamped on it with his index finger and said, "This crippled British force was facing two-hundred-fifteen thousand Italians in Libya and another two-hundred thousand in Italian East Africa. Wavell was ordered to avoid skirmishes because of the predictable result of such a manpower imbalance. In July the Italians invaded Sudan, Kenya, and Gallabat, forcing Wavell to evacuate. It looked grim for the British. Wavell, by the way"—he paused to puff several times—"is a personal friend of mine."

No surprise here. In Sackville-West's Washington office, only one picture sits on the mahogany desk. It shows Winston Churchill and Sackville-West dining together and obviously enjoying each other's company.

Through billowing smoke the Priest continued, "Because of the unhealthy odds against the British if a full-scale battle began, Wavell was ordered to make one man look like ten, make one tank look like ten, and to build airplanes out of wooden boxes so Italian flybys would report exaggerated figures of British strength. Things were that bad. The Italians leisurely built a string of seven heavily armed fortresses north to south across the front.