The Night of the Generals (13 page)

Grau brushed this aside much as he would have a fly. "I'm not particularly interested in that sort of thing," he said contemptuously. "Almost everyone has a little lapse now and then, depending on how drunk he is, and there are homosexuals everywhere. I'm interested in bigger perversions. Naturally you could give me lists of names, Monsieur Prévert. But I want more than that--considerably more."

Prévert raised his bull-dog nose as though snuffing the air. If he could actively help to decimate the Germans-whatever Grau's intentions were--why shouldn't he, especially as he would be preserving a few of his compatriots from certain death. He meditated for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders.

"What, for instance," he finally asked in his husky absinthe-laden voice, "would one of your generals be worth?"

"Three Frenchmen," Grau replied promptly. "Three taken from any list you care to give me, except that it must contain at least ten names. I reserve the right to choose. I'm not omnipotent, you understand. I have to take great care not to tread on the toes of the S. D. or the Gestapo.--But I don't need to explain that to you. Paris will soon see the last of those unpleasant organizations, anyway. Our business takes priority. Can you tell me which general may be involved in your offer?"

Prévert hesitated. Grau was not the sort of man to haggle with. He was tricky to handle, but he always put his cards on the table.

"Are you familiar with a general named Kahlenberge?"

"It's a deal!" said Grau. "What can you offer me in this connection?"

"Give me a day or two to assemble my material. There are still a few gaps."

"I shall be back tomorrow, Monsieur Prévert."

INTERIM REPORT

FURTHER PARTICULARS

Notes supplied by a journalist who is an expert on the events that took place in Paris in July 1944 and has written several important articles on the subject: "There is scarcely anything to add to what is already known about the group which formed itself round General von Stülpnagel, commander-in-chief of the German forces in France. The conduct of most of the officers who were directly involved in the conspiracy against Hitler merits our unqualified respect, and the conduct of Lieutenant-Colonel Cäsar von Hofacker, in particular, was distinguished by historic greatness.

"Apart from this clearly defined group at the top there existed numerous others composed of sympathetic but passive accomplices, and others of men who had become party to the conspiracy by accident. Then, again, there were officers who guessed a great deal but knew nothing for certain. These individuals circled the main groups like satellites, cautiously trying to make contact but failing.

"Still other men, regimental officers as well as staff officers and generals, formed their own independent groups and tried to build up their own networks. They conspired with and sometimes--unwittingly--against each other. Each felt that things could not go on as they were, but all lacked centralized direction--though it must be admitted that this was scarcely possible under the circumstances.

"As a result, attempts at conspiracy sometimes took curious forms. One important rule was to put nothing in writing and avoid suspicious turns of phrase on the telephone because the enemy might be listening in. In this instance, the enemy was the S. D. and the Gestapo, although many also regarded the Abwehr as such. The only comparatively safe method of communication was direct contact between two individuals or very limited groups of individuals.

"It was essential to avoid attracting attention. Conversation between two officers in the same department presented no special difficulty, but when the officers in question had no official connection with one another the problem became exceedingly awkward.

"Neutral and inconspicuous places were favoured as venues for this type of conversation. Among them was the Métro, especially Lines 1 and 7 between Palais Royal and Hôtel-de-Ville. It was not unusual for contact to be made in cafés, and von Falkenhausen of the Commander-in-Chief's staff developed a craze for taking bicycle rides dressed in civilian clothes, complete with typically French basque beret.

"Consider the general situation. The Eastern Front was steadily contracting, the Allies had landed in Sicily, and the Normandy front, which had held hitherto, was now showing signs of collapse. Still based in Paris were numerous headquarters staffs and various units belonging to all three services--e. g. an army, a navy and an air force headquarters, each with its own garrison troops--the Commander-in-Chief, France, the senior S. S. and police chief, France, the headquarters of the S. D., France, the staff of the Quarter-Master-General, Western Command, and so on.

"Furthermore, stationed in and around Paris were numerous units of varying size, some held in reserve, some ordered there for regrouping and transfer and some intended as garrison and 'pacification' units.

"Outwardly, however, Paris hardly seemed to have changed at all. It was still, to quote an expert, regarded as an El Dorado by many Germans."

Statement by ex-Sergeant Johannes Kopisch, formerly a member of the Provost Corps and as such permanently engaged in disciplinary duties within the garrison area of Greater Paris: "Why do I still remember that evening so well? Because the whole business seemed so goddam stupid. You come up against a lot of funny things in the Provost Corps, but what happened that night was just plain idiotic.

"I can't tell you the precise date and time, but it was after midnight and damned sticky--it was like a Turkish bath the whole of that July--up till the 21st, that is. I can still remember the exact date. Why? Because that's when it began to rain. My notebook fell into a puddle and I was bloody near transferred to the front on account of it. My captain was a pernickety sod. I could tell you a thing or two about him!

"All right, I'm coming to it. It must have been a few days before the 21st. We were out on patrol as usual, me and a pal in a truck. Up and down the Champs-Elysées all the time, from the arch to the square and back again.

"Well, while we were driving up the Champs--or were we driving down? I can't remember--someone stops us and says: There's a chap giving a defeatist speech in the Mocambo Bar. ' I said: 'Breathe!' but he wasn't tight or we'd have sent him off with a flea in his ear. As a matter of fact, he was an N. C. O.--a real spit-and-polish type. There wasn't anything for it but to go and take a gander at the Mocambo Bar.

"We collared the lad who was supposed to have spoken out of turn and I winked and said: "Well?'--encouragingly, if you understand me. And what does the fellow say, the stupid bastard? Just says: 'Yes.' Admits the lot. Never thinks of shooting the only possible line--you know: I was drunk, I was misunderstood, I meant the exact opposite--and all the rest of the old bullshit.

"I couldn't believe my ears! This chap Hartmann was actually proud of his night's work--even asked what all the fuss was about. I ask you, how dumb can you get?--Stirring up the French and calling the war a load of crap in front of a few dozen witnesses! Mind you, he may have had a point, when you think about it today, but you just don't do things like that.

"Well, I had to take this Hartmann along, and a few witnesses as well. One of them said she was a general's daughter. I had a good laugh at that until I found out her old man really was a general. Anyway, I reported the matter. What else could I do? It was my duty.

"What sort of impression did Hartmann make on me? Well, as I said, he was a poor stupid bastard. Nice chap all the same--a bit soft, but nice, there's no denying that. He sort of tickled me. I got the feeling he wasn't quite right upstairs. Why? I don't know. It was just a feeling."

Deposition by ex-Lieutenant-Colonel Sandauer, formerly G.S.O.1 in General Tanz's division. This deposition was accompanied by an assurance that it could be used as an affidavit at any time. It was supplied in writing, seventeen years after the events referred to.

Exact date: 18th September 1961: "I should like to stress that there can be no talk of 'squandered lives' in connection with the Nibelungen Division of which General Tanz was the commanding officer, neither during operations in Poland and Russia nor during similar engagements in France. The transfer of our division to the Greater Paris area in July 1944 was not in any way a reflection on its commander.

"The true facts are as follows: iThe losses sustained by General Tanz's division remained within what may be described as normal limits at every stage. iiEven if our casualties sometimes appeared unusually high by layman's standards, this was attributable solely to the fact that, as an elite division, we were always in the forefront of the fighting. iiiThe division's chain of command remained intact at all times, and was never for a moment endangered or interrupted. The only possible exception to this was the situation which developed outside Leningrad in December 1941. On that occasion General Tanz was cut off while personally leading an assault, and our command post was subjected to concentrated artillery fire. Due to a combination of these two unfortunate circumstances the division temporarily ceased to be operational. ivThe widespread rumour that General Tanz received orders, allegedly from the Führer himself, to refrain from direct and personal participation in military operations does not accord with the full facts.

"As a private individual, I should like to add the following rider: "General Tanz was essentially a fighting man, but after the Leningrad incident he was always at pains to keep the division under strict control at all times. Since the only normal method of doing this was from Divisional Headquarters, the General was compelled to avoid personal involvement in the field."

2

General von Seydlitz-Gabler's nights had recently been growing more and more unendurable. He lay there like a lead soldier slowly melting in a furnace, the blood creeping reluctantly through his ageing body. He was thoroughly miserable.

One of the main reasons for his insomnia was an increasing propensity to brood about his country and its leaders. How many times in German history, he wondered, had a general found it necessary to dwell so persistently on the subject?

The General tossed to and fro on his bed, gasping like a stranded fish. He even found it impossible to dream clearly any more. In his younger days he had been able to picture whole battlefields, coronation ceremonies and parades in his dreams--all with such overwhelming clarity that he could identify the battle honours on a flag or the colour of a plume on a helmet. Now he found himself submerged in a confused blur of murky colours to the accompaniment of massed brass bands blaring outParlez-moi d'amour.

"Time to get up, sir," said Sergeant Lehmann.

The General struggled painfully to the surface. He levered himself on to his elbows with a groan and swung his bandy legs to the floor. Then he groped for the glass in his batman's outstretched hand. It was tinned orange juice, a morning treat which von Seydlitz-Gabler got only because Lehmann drank it regularly himself.

While he stood there drinking, a short and rather pathetic figure in a night-shirt, he cocked an eye at his watch. For the first time that day his face assumed a human expression.

"Good God, Lehmann, were you trodden on by a rooster this morning, or something?" he asked testily. "It's only seven o'clock!"

"The General is breakfasting with her ladyship at the hotel today." Lehmann spoke as though he were reading the weather forecast. "Her ladyship telephoned yesterday evening and expressed the wish that you should join her, and since the General did not return to quarters until late..."

"All right, all right." Von Seydlitz-Gabler cut him short and hastily began his morning toilette.

"I've already had the car brought round, sir," said Lehmann, when the General's normal veneer of majestic elegance had been restored. The batman looked him over critically and seemed satisfied with the result.

Leaving his headquarters at the Auberge Moulin Noir on the eastern edge of the Bois de Vincennes, von Seydlitz-Gabler drove to the Place Vendôme in the centre of the city and stopped outside the Hotel Excelsior, which was his wife's temporary abode. At least, he hoped it was temporary. Fortunately, circumstances in Paris made it impossible to duplicate the domestic arrangements which had existed in Warsaw.

"I see you so little these days," said Frau Wilhelmine, after she had greeted him in her hotel room.

"Duty, my love, duty. There are critical times ahead."

The General gazed into his wife's blue eyes with unflinching gallantry, then past her at the twin beds, one of which had been intended for him. The virgin counterpane stared at him accusingly. To his relief he noticed that they were not alone in the room. His daughter Ulrike stood by the window, firm-fleshed and graceful as a young racehorse. Even her corn-coloured mane of hair reminded him of a horse.

"We're all going to have breakfast together," announced Frau Wilhelmine.

It was a long time since they had eatenen famille. They exchanged a few amicable remarks and chatted about home and Paris. Ulrike, who was temporarily stationed in Fontainebleau, complained that it was dull compared with Paris and said she would rather live in the city.

"Paris is not for you," Frau Wilhelmine said resolutely, glancing at her husband. "Paris does no one any good. For all that, I may let you come up for a day or two soon. General Tanz is on his way here, I gather, so we shall have to entertain him a little."

"In that case give me Fontainebleau!"

Ulrike's spontaneous outburst evoked a stern reprimand from her mother, who was duly backed up by the General. Frau Wilhelmine launched into a lengthy monologue in which she summarized all she had to say on the subject. Numbed by the ruthless logic of her mother's arguments, Ulrike maintained a sullen silence. Her father, on the other hand, repeatedly assured his masterful spouse how greatly he appreciated her advice.

"I shall discuss the necessary arrangements with Kahlenberge immediately after breakfast."