They Used Dark Forces (57 page)

For a moment, Gregory felt that he ought to show resentment at the insult to his Chief, but Koller gave him a quick nudge; so he remained silent. And he was soon to learn that in the bunker such abuse of Goering was quite usual.

With a wave of his hand Bormann dismissed him. Koller then went in to the midday conference while Gregory found von Below, who gave him a friendly welcome and showed him round the headquarters, although not, of course, the rooms occupied by the Führer.

For a time they discussed the war. In the bunker there was no spacious map room, such as that in the War Cabinet basement where Gregory had worked in comfort with half a dozen colleagues—only a small chamber adjacent to the Führer's apartments, barely large enough for three people to move round in. But von Below produced a map of the Western Front on which were marked roughly the positions of the opposing Armies.

On February 8th General Eisenhower had launched his great spring offensive, its main weight being directed towards the lower Rhine. In the extreme north the British and Canadians had succeeded in clearing the Reichwald Forest, but further south the American thrust towards Düsseldorf had been checked by the fanatical bravery of General Schlemm's First Parachute Army. Moreover conditions could not have been more unfavourable to the Allies, as it had rained incessantly; tanks and carriers had become hopelessly bogged down, slowing up the general advance along the whole front. But now the ground was drying out and, placing his finger on a spot west of the Rhine in the Wesel-Homburg sector, von Below said:

‘The enemy are massing here for another major assault. Air reconnaissance is almost entirely denied to us these days,
but hundreds of officers and men who were overrun by the Allies' advance, then succeeded in hiding and straggling back by night, all report enormous concentrations of guns and armour in that area. I fear there is little doubt that the British will be over the Rhine before the end of the month.'

‘They may,' Gregory replied, ‘but the Americans will be across before the British. The first crossing won't be made up there either, but further down, south of Cologne.'

That was the conclusion that Malacou had come to as the result of his astrological calculations and mystical communings with occult powers while at Karinhall. The opportunity to use it had arisen sooner than Gregory had expected, but he felt it too good to miss.

Von Below looked at him in astonishment. ‘But, my dear fellow, you are talking nonsense. Just look at the map. General Patton's army, in the centre there, is still many miles from the Rhine, and unlike the Allied dispositions further north his troops are widely dispersed. What you suggest is wildly improbable.'

‘It is not,' Gregory insisted. ‘The Americans will be over the Rhine south of Cologne within a week. If it were not unsporting to bet on certainties, I'd bet you a hundred marks that will be so.'

‘
Gott im Himmel
! To talk of it as a certainty you must be crazy. I'll willingly take you for a thousand. On what do you base this extraordinary assertion?'

‘On the foreknowledge of my servant. He is a Turk, whom I acquired while travelling for the Reichsmarschall in the Balkans, and he is a genuine mystic. He predicted correctly the defeat of the British airborne landings at Arnhem, the Ardennes offensive and its failure, and many other things. So I have complete confidence in him.'

‘How very extraordinary. That is better than any of the Führer's magicians can do. Sometimes they pull a rabbit out of the hat. When the Führer decided to rescue Mussolini our Intelligence people hadn't an idea where he was imprisoned. But an occultist who calls himself the Master of the Sidereal Pendulum located him for us. On checking up we found that he was right, then Otto Skorzeny flew in and got the Duce out.
Most of the time, though, I think they are just guessing, and only last week the Führer sent his two latest wizards packing because they had misled him with false predictions.'

Gregory smiled. ‘Most of these fellows are charlatans; but Malacou is not. Perhaps he is granted these powers because he refuses to make money out of them. Anyway, if you would like your fortune told you have only to let me know.'

At that moment von Below was called away; so Gregory continued to familiarise himself with his new surroundings, then returned to the Air Ministry for a late lunch.

During the next few days he made the acquaintance of all his new colleagues in the bunker and settled down to his duties there. They were by no means onerous and consisted mainly in making précis of staff papers for Generals Koller and Christian, relaying orders by telephone and, at times, going in a car to the Tempelhof or Gatow airports to meet senior officers who had been summoned to Berlin by the Führer.

On March 6th he met and brought to the bunker General Siegfried Westphal. This comparatively young and exceptionally brilliant officer had, in turn, been Chief of Staff to Rommel in North Africa and to Kesselring in Italy and was now Chief of Staff to von Rundstedt. He had been sent by his chief to endeavour to persuade Hitler to permit a withdrawal which would considerably shorten the front in the West and so enable it to be held more strongly. After his departure Gregory learned from Koller, von Below and others the course the interview had taken. With great courage Westphal had spoken his mind frankly to Hitler and for five hours stood up to endless tirades of abuse. When he at last emerged from the interview he was sweating profusely but he had managed to wring a partial agreement from Hitler.

He had asked that parts of the West Wall should be given up, on the grounds that it had been so shoddily built that many of the emplacements were death-traps rather than strong points, and that, fearing to be buried in them, the troops preferred to risk their lives in the open. As the West Wall was Hitler's own creation this had sent him into a furious rage; but he had been forced to admit that his own estimate, that a division averaging
five thousand men could hold a front of fifteen kilometres, was no longer practical in view of the Allies' great numerical superiority; and had consented to withdrawals in certain places. But General Jodl expressed the opinion that Westphal's success was only temporary, and that the Führer would soon revert to his demand that every foot of ground should be held.

The following afternoon Gregory was sent by Koller out to Karinhall with a confidential document for Goering, which gave him an opportunity to report that he had established himself satisfactorily at Führer H.Q. and had made his first move, although he was now far from happy about its probable outcome. But on his return, when he entered the outer bunker he noticed that its inmates were looking very glum. Suddenly, von Below caught sight of him and cried:

‘
Teufel nochmal
, Protze! You were right!'

To Gregory the exclamation could mean only one thing: the Americans were across the Rhine. For the past two days he had been becoming more and more anxious, as Malacou had been unable to give a more exact prediction than that the crossing would take place in the first week in March. Had he for once proved wrong, Gregory would not only have been made to look a credulous fool but also have lost the sort of brilliant opening to his campaign that might not again arise. But this was the 7th; so, much relieved, he was able to smile and ask:

‘When did it happen, and where?'

‘This afternoon,' replied the Colonel. ‘One of General Patton's flying columns reached the Rhine at Remagen. God alone knows why, but our Sappers there failed to blow the bridge in time. Still, the Americans can't possibly have crossed in any strength. They couldn't have had more than a reconnaissance force so far in advance of their main body; so all the odds are that the few who have got across will be driven back into the river.'

But hour after hour next day, as the reports came in, the atmosphere in the bunker grew more tense. ‘Two-gun' Patton was proving himself another Murat by his dash and determination. Not only had the Germans failed to retake or destroy the bridge; the Americans were pouring across it and, supported
by a thousand aircraft, establishing themselves on its far side.

On the 9th a German counter-attack in force was launched but by evening it was known that it had failed. At eleven o'clock that night Gregory was in his cubicle in the Air Ministry basement and just about to turn in. An orderly from the telephone exchange came to his room and told him that General Koller required his presence at once over in the Chancellery bunker. Hastily he put on his tunic again and hurried off up the street. He found Koller in the main passage that was used as a general sitting room. The General said only ‘Come with me,' and led the way through the partition door into the end of the passage that was used for conferences.

There, alone at the long narrow table, Bormann was sitting. Fixing his cold steely eyes on Gregory, he asked, ‘
Herr Major
, is it true that you predicted the crossing of the Rhine at Remagen by the Americans a week before it occurred?'

‘
Jawohl, Herr Parteiführer
,' Gregory replied promptly.

Bormann stood up and said, ‘The Führer requires an explanation of how you obtained this intelligence.' As he spoke he pushed open a door on his right and signed to Gregory to go through it. A moment later Gregory found himself face to face with Adolf Hitler.

Gregory had had only a few seconds' warning of what to expect, but he rose to the occasion. Halting a yard short of a small table on the far side of which sat a hunched figure, he thrust his right arm out high in the Nazi salute and cried, ‘
Heil Hitler
!' Then he stood rigidly to attention.

Hitler acknowledged the salute by raising a shaking hand a few inches from the table, then he held it out. Gregory would have been less astonished had he realised that, from long habit, Hitler shook hands with everyone. Taking the trembling hand gently in his he bowed over it, then resumed his rigid attitude looking straight in front of him.

But the one good look he had had at the Führer's face had told a tale that had he heard it from others he would have regarded as gross exaggeration. Goering had said that Hitler had aged considerably and was kept going only by the drugs with which Morell injected him thrice daily. Yet, after all, he was only fifty-six and this man looked as if he were well on in his seventies. His hair was thin and, in places, nearly white, his face was grey and furrowed by lines; his eyes were dull and pouched in deep sockets; his body, which had been stalwart, appeared shrunken.

One thing that remained still unimpaired was his voice. Just as it always had, it rasped but held unchallengeable authority. He said, ‘Sit down,
Herr Major
. What I have heard about you interests me greatly. I understand that you have dealings with occult forces.'

Bormann pushed a chair towards Gregory. With a bow, he sat down on it. Taking another Bormann also sat down, crossed his legs, clasped his hands and began to twiddle his
thumbs while keeping his gaze on Gregory's face with an unwinking stare.

‘
Mein Führer
,' Gregory replied. ‘I cannot claim direct communication. But my servant, a Turk whom I brought from the Balkans, unquestionably has the power to call upon entities of the Outer Circle for foreknowledge and guidance.'

‘The Outer Circle,' Hitler repeated. ‘He is, then, far advanced and must have crossed the Abyss. Continue.'

‘He interested me in these matters some two years ago. Since then we have worked together. He puts himself into a trance and so becomes a focus for intelligences beyond. When in that state he has no knowledge of what he is saying and speaks only in Turkish. I have learned Turkish, so I am able to understand the information he is obtaining from the Seventh Plane and take note of his predictions.'

‘How often are they right?'

‘Invariably,
mein Führer
. For the past year he has foretold to me accurately every major development of the war.'

‘
So
! Then I must make use of him. In recent months I have suffered several disappointments in such matters. Predictions made to me have not been fulfilled, so I have dismissed their authors. The Reichsführer's man, Herr Wulf, has been the most reliable occultist I have consulted, but his master can spare him only occasionally. This man of yours sounds promising and I badly need guidance.'

After a moment Hitler went on, ‘No-one,
Herr Major
, except my dear friend Martin here, realises the burden that I carry. It is due to me alone that our country has not yet been defeated. I am betrayed on every side. This catastrophe at Remagen! Just think of it! German soldiers neglecting their duty! Leaving the bridge inadequately guarded! The swine! By my orders they will be shot. Every one of them. Every one of them! And their officers shall pay with the lives of their wives and children too! I … I … I …'

He was off. Neither Gregory nor Bormann dared attempt to interrupt him. For over an hour he never ceased talking. Although he became hoarse the words continued to flow in rhythmic periods. They made a kind of harsh song that dulled the senses and led his hearers to nod automatically in agreement.
Gregory had often heard tell of Hitler's hypnotic powers; now he had first-hand experience of them. He had to make a conscious effort to prevent himself from accepting it as a fact that the grey, broken man opposite him was a Messiah who had sacrificed every pleasure in life and been brought to his present wretched state solely by his desire to better the lot of the German people.

He had not wanted war. It had been forced upon him as the only means of saving the country from starvation, anarchy and Communism. He had no wish to be harsh, but he was the father of his millions of children. To spare the rod was to spoil the child. For their own salvation they must be made to fight on until victory was achieved. And by his guidance victory would be achieved. About that there could be no shadow of doubt. But he was betrayed, betrayed, betrayed. Last July the General Staff of the Army had tried to murder him. Him! The true representative of the German people. He had had five hundred of those traitors executed. But those pigs who remained still wished to sell Germany out to her enemies. And so on and so on, and so on.