A long conversation got under way between Dulles and Fritz on Germany, Berlin, what went on behind the scenes in the regime. Fritz described the atmosphere in Berlin, the growing sense of fear, the German-language programs on the BBC that people listened to secretly. He described in detail the mini-“putsch” of Deputy State Secretary Martin Luther and answered questions from the two Americans about the strength of the SS apparatus. He described the morose atmosphere of the German legation in Bern (“morale in Bern legation is bad”).
One of the highlights of the evening came when Fritz set out to describe very precisely the location of Hitler’s headquarters in East Prussia, and made a sketch of it in pencil, with the help of a map spread out on a coffee table. “The East Prussian German HQ is located on the east shore of a small Lake Schwanzeitsee… Headquarters are established about 7 kilometers east of Rastenburg and 28 kilometers south of Angerburg. Everything is extremely well camouflaged. Here is Hitler’s bombproof hideout situated underground… Here is Ribbentrop’s train… there are railroad sidings where Himmler and Göring set up quarters… A restaurant for diplomats, Jägerhöhe, is located 300 meters to the north…”
The tension relaxed. Drinks were served. Fritz continued to provide revelations of the greatest importance. The Germans, he explained, had managed to decipher an American diplomatic message sent from Cairo on August 7, 1943. Dulles and Mayer thus realized that the State Department’s cipher had probably been broken. It was urgent to warn Washington of this security breach threatening the United States’s secret communications.
And that was not all. Kolbe was like a magician pulling dozens of surprises out of his sleeve. Strategic revelations (“how the Spanish are delivering tungsten to the Germans,” “planned retreat of German troops as far as the Dnieper,” “German and Japanese submarines at the Cape of Good Hope”). Indications on the location of industrial sites worth bombing (“the Telefunken factory in Lichterfelde, near Berlin, which provides precision equipment to the Luftwaffe”). Details on the increasing disorganization of the German industrial system (“Long-term planning has completely disappeared in German war industry. Plans are made from day to day and subject to constant change. As a result many newly appointed women employees are advised to come to work but to bring their knitting because they might be without work for days on end”).
At some point late in the evening, Fritz Kolbe indicated that the Germans had a spy who had first-hand information coming from London (code name “Hector” or “Hektor”). The source had direct access to Stafford Cripps, the minister of aeronautic production. In Dublin, another German spy, a “Dr. Götz,” was flourishing, and the Germans had a clandestine radio transmitter in the Irish capital. At the other end of the world, the Portuguese colony of Mozambique was an important German observation post. The consulate of the Reich in Lourenço Marques in particular regularly provided precise information about the movements of Allied ships in the southern oceans. The Americans were extremely interested. If they were true, these pieces of information were of vital importance for the future course of the war.
To crown it all, Fritz gave the details of the cryptography used by the German Foreign Ministry. It was a very effective coding system. He explained its functioning: “A normal cipher book is used. Every word has a number group. In addition to this the outpost and the Foreign Office have identical pads, each page of which is usable once only. These pages are covered with numbers in 48 groups of five. These numbers are added to the original cipher number at the transmitting end and deducted at the receiving end. Sum total, without adding decimals, is received at Foreign Office, their pad additions are subtracted, and original cipher results.” This was known as the “one-time pad” system, which was much more secure than the American coding methods (where each letter corresponded to a given number). Unfortunately, Fritz could not say more about it. Codes changed constantly, and the Americans could not make much concrete use of these revelations. They sent the details provided by Fritz Kolbe to London for another evaluation.
The Americans asked the unknown man from Berlin to tell them his name and to talk about himself. Fritz Kolbe laid his cards on the table, revealed his identity, told the story of his life, talked about the Wandervogel, and described his work for Ambassador Karl Ritter. He did not consider that he was in any way under suspicion and cited as proof of this that he worked in the Political/Military Department. He provided dates, gave a summary of his career, and supplied details on the subversive activities he had carried out in secret since the beginning of the war. In particular, he described the fraudulent use of passports brought back from Cape Town, which he said he had given to Jews to help them flee Germany. He told them that his earnings at the outbreak of the war were 700 marks monthly, plus 200 marks special confidence bonus. He even talked about his son and gave them his address in South-West Africa (“c/o Ui and Otto Lohff, in Swakopmund”) to establish his credibility and serve as a guarantee. He also mentioned the name of Toni Singer, his best friend in Cape Town. They asked him about his motivations. Did he want money? Fritz Kolbe said no, explaining the reason for his decisions: “What I do I do for an ideal, I ask for no remuneration except possibly for reimbursement of modest expenses.”
This remark surprised the two Americans. “Is this a joke?” they both said. Ernst defended his friend’s good faith: “He thinks it is not enough to clench one’s fist and hide it in one’s pocket. The fist must be used to strike.” Fritz in turn added a few words: “It is not only one’s right but one’s duty to fight such a government…. My wish is to shorten the war. And at the end of the war, Nazism, fascism, and all the other isms of the totalitarian states should end. We will need American help against the Russians tomorrow in our and in their interest, but we must help them now. That is why I wish to establish contact with the Western democracies. All we ask as payment for our services is help and encouragement and support after the war.” “The war,” said Dulles, “must first be won. It is too soon to speak of what comes afterward.”
Despite the late hour (it was three in the morning, according to Dulles’s memoirs), they continued to bombard Fritz with questions: Could he provide other information? Did he come to Bern often? Fritz answered that he might come back, but that it was not certain. A system of communication between Berlin and Bern had to be organized. In order to finalize all these practical matters, a second appointment was made for Friday morning, again in Mayer’s apartment. The four men took leave of one another. When he returned to his hotel that night—as he was to say later—Fritz felt “deep satisfaction.” He nevertheless wondered if he had not been in too much of a hurry to reveal everything he knew. “Perhaps this haste was judged badly,” he thought. For their part, the two Americans, still in Mayer’s apartment, briefly shared their first impressions of the man whose name they pronounced as Fritz Colby. They agreed in observing that the German had asked practically no questions and had not tried to lead the conversation into any specific subject. This was a rather good sign, but they shouldn’t allow themselves to be lulled by what might be a trap wrapped up in a remarkable performance.