The Separation (45 page)

In the morning, as soon as I heard the landlord moving around downstairs and before there was any risk of the telephone in the bar ringing, I paid my bill at the inn and began the long journey home, following the interminable and indirect train-route across England. It took me another day and a half of tedious travelling and waiting for connections. We were in the first week of May, the month our baby was due to arrive.

Mrs Gratton and Harry were both in the house when I walked in and they made me a cup of tea. They told me Birgit was asleep upstairs. Everything was going well, Mrs Gratton said, no cause for concern, the baby was due to arrive on time, but they were waiting for a visit from the doctor. Birgit had spent an uncomfortable night.

I went upstairs as soon as she woke and we spent an hour or more together until the doctor came to visit her. I heard Birgit tell him she was suffering worse back pains than before and that her legs were swollen and were losing sensation. The doctor reassured her it would not be long before her troubles were at an end.

When everyone had left the house, Birgit gave me the small pile of letters that had arrived for me while I was away. Prominent among them was a letter in a typewritten envelope, posted in London two days earlier. It was from Dr Carl Burckhardt and it requested me to meet him in London in two days’ time.

18

Extract from Chapter 6 of
The Last Day of War
by Stuart Gratton, published by Faber Faber,

London, 1981:

. . .
some theatres of Luftwaffe operations were quieter than others. All the occupied territories required air cover, although once Operation Barbarossa was confirmed for June 22 and aircraft were needed on the Eastern Front, cover was progressively reduced in certain areas to the minimum operational level. One such was Luftflotte 5, which was responsible for the whole north-western German coast from Emden in the west to the northern tip of occupied Denmark. Although bomber
Geschwaders
of Luftflotte 5 were deployed against British shipping in the North Sea and had attacked British targets such as Hull, Grimsby and Newcastle, the Luftwaffe presence in Denmark was mainly as a defence against RAF minelaying operations in the Kattegat Strait.

On May 10, 1941, the process of partial withdrawal to Germany had already begun, leaving the night-fighter
Gruppen
seriously reduced in manpower and machines. That day, Oberleutnant Manfred Losen was a pilot of IV./NJG 35, flying the Messerschmitt Me-109E fighter from Grove airfield on the west coast of Denmark. In the afternoon he and the other members of his
Stqffel
had flown over the sea for a short gunnery calibration and test. They returned to the airfield before 6 p.m. local time for a meal and a rest, before the duties of the night began. He tells the rest of his story:

‘I was called in to the battle room by my superior, Major Limmer. His first question was to ask me how long I thought it would take me to get into the air if an
Alarmstart
was called. I said that I thought the aircraft were already refuelled and the weapons reloaded, so that we could scramble in a matter of minutes. He said that was good and asked me to stay on the alert.

‘About half an hour later he called me in again, this time looking frantic. He said, “Something urgent has come up. It’s an unusual job and you must start straight away. There will be no radio ground control, so take all the aircraft you can and report back to me in person when you land.” He went on to explain what we should do. He said that the British had apparently repaired a Messerschmitt Me-110 that had been shot down over England and were flying it in German markings on a special spy mission in our sector. It was due to pass within our range at low altitude in the next thirty minutes. Our orders were to shoot it down. No warnings were to be given.

‘I asked how we could be sure that if we saw a Me-110 it would be the one we were looking for. Major Limmer told me not to ask questions and ordered me to leave at once. We scrambled straight away and took off into the sunset, heading due west across the sea. I had managed to find only three other aircraft ready to leave, so that was the greatest strength we could muster for the flight. The pilots who scrambled with me were naturally curious and as soon as we were away from the base they came on the radio. I told them that their orders were to stay with me at all times and to follow my lead. I also told them that strict radio silence must be observed until we after we landed.

‘We carried enough fuel to patrol for about one hour at low altitude. After about half that time one of my
Staffel
overhauled my aircraft and flew close beside me. I recognized the pilot as a good friend of mine, Unteroffizier Helmut Koberich. He pointed upwards with his hand. When I looked up I could see that at about two or three thousand metres above us there were scores of British two-engined bombers heading on a south-easterly bearing towards Germany. It was a beautiful evening, still with much pale light in the sky. It wouldn’t last long and the conditions were almost perfect for an attack. Helmut obviously wanted to go after the bombers, since that was what we were trained to do. I managed to restrain him.

‘Not long after that I saw a tiny shape in the distance, flying on a northerly bearing, at about the same altitude as us. I immediately turned in that direction, with the rest of the
Staffel
following. At this time we had only a few minutes’ fuel left before we would have to return to base, otherwise we would be forced to ditch before we reached land. In five minutes we overhauled the plane and easily identified it as an Me-110D, bearing what looked like normal Luftwaffe markings. According to my orders from Major Limmer I manoeuvred my plane into a suitable position and launched a diving attack. The other planes followed me. I attacked at once, letting off a long burst of cannon fire. Because I was using tracer I’m certain that at least some of my shells struck the other aircraft. The pilot of the Me-110 was alert and took immediate evasive action, diving into the cloud layer below him. The rest of my
Staffel
followed him, firing their machine-guns, while I circled round, gaining a little altitude, ready for a second pass.

‘I dived again, picking up a great deal of speed. I passed through the layer of cloud, but there was no sign of the Me-110 where I thought it should be. I searched around in all directions, but I could only conclude that either he had escaped or he had already crashed into the sea. I resumed our former altitude and soon joined up with the others. We flew directly back to base.

‘Although I had been ordered to report to Major Limmer, as soon as we parked our aircraft we were immediately told to board a truck, where two armed
Gefreiters
were in charge of us. We were driven to one of the hangars on the far side of the airfield and there interrogated closely about what we had done and what we had seen. Our versions of the event were all more or less in agreement with each other, but even so we were questioned until after midnight. It was accepted that we had damaged the other aircraft but that we could not claim it as a definite kill. At the end we were allowed to return to our quarters, but we were warned in the most serious terms possible that we must never reveal what we had been doing that night.

‘Later, after the war, I met men from other
Nachtjagdgeschwaders
(night-fighter units) and learned from them that they too had been scrambled on the same night for the same reason: a British-operated Me-110 on a secret mission. One of them, from our base at Aalborg in Denmark, claimed to have seen the Me-110 shot down. Another, who had been based at Wittmundhafen on the Ostfriesland coast in the north of Germany, said that they had not been able to find, let alone engage with, the Me-110, but he said that their orders had come direct from Generalmajor Adolf Galland, whose orders in turn had come from no less a person than Reichsmarschall Hermann Goering. They were told that the Messerschmitt was being flown by Rudolf Hess and that Hitler had had a last-minute change of mind about making peace.’

Manfred Losen was later posted to the Russian front, where he served for two years in most appalling conditions. In 1943 his plane was shot down by a Mustang of the USAAF and he was taken prisoner. He spent three years in a PoW camp in Texas. He now lives in Houston, where he has recently retired from the Dell Computer Corporation.

19

Holograph notebooks of J. L. Sawyer

xxi

In normal times I suppose it would probably take ten or fifteen minutes to stroll from the YMCA near Holborn to Admiralty House in Trafalgar Square, but on the morning of May 7, in the immediate aftermath of a raid, it turned out to be an arduous expedition. Many of the streets were blocked by fallen buildings and detours were necessary. Fire engines and ambulances were moving around constantly and at several of the worst places of bomb or fire damage the rescue workers were still digging and pulling at the fallen masonry in search of anyone trapped inside. Flood water from broken mains was in every street. Bulldozers were attempting to remove the worst of the wreckage from the streets. My walk, which began in the spirit of curiosity and discovery, ended with my hurrying along, concerned not to get in the way of the emergency services, trying not to notice the many pathetic and touching scenes of damage and loss.

I was shocked to realize how quickly I had forgotten what hell the bombing brought. In common with many of the official buildings in the area, Admiralty House looked like a fortress: at ground level every inch of the perimeter was protected by walls of sandbags about twelve feet high. Above, the windows were sealed with metal shutters. Clearly, it would be no more able to withstand a direct hit from a high-explosive bomb than any other building, but it was certainly intended to survive almost everything else.

Dr Burckhardt, together with two other officials, was waiting for me in a small anteroom along the main hallway. He greeted me effusively, speaking in excellent English with what I discerned to be a cultivated accent.

‘Our meeting is to be delayed somewhat,’ he said, after we had reassured each other that we were well and in good order. ‘Because of the raid last night, the Prime Minister felt he should go on a short personal tour of some of the worst-hit areas. He says it is the best morale-raiser he knows. There is some tea here, if you would like a drink.’

For the next hour we waited, usually in silence, engaging only in small talk. Throughout our wait, the door to the room was open. From my seat I could see along most of the hallway outside. When Mr Churchill arrived he did so without fuss or ceremony. I saw the shadows of movement beside the main entrance as people passed through the narrow corridor created by the high banks of sandbags, then a man in a civilian suit walked in. He was closely followed by the familiar figure of the Prime Minister, who was dressed in a brown overcoat and tall-crowned hat and carrying a cane. He wore a gas-mask case on a strap hung across his shoulder. As he began to divest himself of all this, more of his entourage came into the hallway behind him: two or three more civilians, uniformed senior members of the navy, army and air force, and a superintendent of police. Churchill nodded to these people briefly and shook hands with them, then walked down the hallway towards us. He was accompanied by one other man. We stood up quickly as he came in. He was not as short as I had imagined him to be. He was slimmer about the waist too. He was also much more spry and youthful in his movements than I had anticipated. To see his famous face so close up was, in spite of my many hostile feelings about him in the past, a considerable experience.

Finally, he spoke. ‘Let me apologize for keeping you waiting, gentlemen. I realize how important your mission to see me is, but as you no doubt know we suffered a serious raid last night. I like to get about to see the people if I can. However, I am ready to proceed.’

We followed him out of the room, Dr Burckhardt walking alongside the Prime Minister as we ascended a wide, curving staircase. The interior of the building was gloomy, because the windows were shuttered and the electric light bulbs which were in use were low-powered, but it was still possible to glimpse the grandeur of the famous building, from which Britain’s naval operations were directed. I glanced at my wristwatch - it was eleven fifteen.

20

UK Government; Cabinet papers protected under indefinite rule (Order in Council 1941);

released under EU Public Interest Directive 1997, Public Records Office (www.open.gov.uk /

cab_off
/
pro
/)

Minutes of prime ministerial meeting, commencing 11.18 a.m.,

Wednesday May 7, 1941, Cabinet Room, Admiralty House.

Present:

P.M. (Prime Minister, Mr Churchill)

C.O.S. (for Chiefs of Staff Committee, General Ismay)

For. Sec. (Foreign Secretary, Mr Eden)

War. Sec. (Secretary of State for War, Capt. Margesson)

Air. Prod. (Minister of Aircraft Production, Lt. Col. Moore-Brabazon) Air Min. (Air Minister, Sir Archibald Sinclair)

Pr. Sec. Air Min. (Private Secretary to Air Minister, Grp. Capt. Sir Louis Greig) H.M. Ambassador - Spain (Sir Samuel Hoare)

H.M. Ambassador - Portugal (Sir Ronald Campbell)

Intn’l. Red Cross (Dr Carl Burckhardt)

Br. Red Cross (Mr J. L. Sawyer)

R.S.O.F. (Religious Society of Friends [Quakers], Mr Thomas A. Benbow) Note-taker (Self, J. Colville)

[Minutes remain in handwritten note form, as agreed by all parties. File to remain exempt from
30-year rule for Cabinet papers. File closed indefinitely by Order in Council]

Prime Minister:
[Introduction]:
Welcome to all.

Introductions all round. Compliments to Dr Burckhardt -P.M. is a great admirer of Red Cross. Apologies received from Count Folke Bernadotte (Swedish Red Cross), Mr Attlee (Lord Privy Seal). C.O.S. to represent all armed forces’ interests; agreed
nem con.