This nocturnal activity was harmful to Fritz’s reputation. The managers of the Hotel Jura looked at him strangely. Obviously they were suspicious of him. Was the hotel in contact with the Gestapo? To avoid any unpleasant surprises, Fritz decided to pass himself off as a Don Juan. In his discussions with colleagues from the German legation, he frequently spoke teasingly of the “pretty Swiss women, who were not all that timid.” One night, he spent a few hours in a brothel in Bern (Café Colombine), after which he made an appointment with a local doctor who specialized in venereal diseases. At the end of the visit, he was presented with a bill, which he carefully preserved in order to have concrete evidence available in the event of a later interrogation.
On Tuesday, October 12, 1943, Fritz had to leave for Berlin. Before his departure, the Americans agreed with him about ways of improving their future collaboration. It was not certain whether Fritz would be able to return to Bern anytime soon: Diplomatic courier assignments were handed out sparingly. Could they figure out a secure and regular means of communication? Sending mail to Ernst Kocherthaler, as Fritz had done with his September 16 letter, was much too dangerous for everyone. “You have to be much more cautious!” the Americans admonished him.
One idea was decided on: Fritz could from time to time send to a third person based in Bern a perfectly innocuous message on an ordinary postcard. Alerted by this signal, the Americans would know that Dr. Bur had brought home to Obernai “material” provided by Fritz in Berlin. An American agent could come to get the package in Alsace a few days later. The envoy would be introduced as M. or Mme. König. It was decided that Fritz’s “mailbox” in Bern would be that of Kocherthaler’s brother-in-law, Walter Schuepp. A librarian by profession, Walter Schuepp was, according to Fritz, a “good Swiss citizen” who was perfectly ordinary. He had the twofold advantage of being completely unnoticed in the local scene and of living very near the OSS offices in Bern (his address was Gryphenhübeliweg 19). Even though they were not really very close, Ernst Kocherthaler trusted him enough to involve him in this delicate enterprise.
And suppose the Americans wanted to contact their agent in Berlin? Fritz proposed a scenario: “One of your contacts in Berlin just has to call me at my office (telephone number: 11.00.13) claiming to be ‘Georg Merz.’ We’ll arrange to meet at my apartment on Kurfürstendamm.” Dulles and Mayer carefully noted this proposal. What Fritz did not know was that apart from him, the Americans had no contacts in Berlin. Even if they had, they never would have sent one of their agents to Fritz’s apartment, not yet being able to state with certainty whether he was a sincere friend of the Allies or a double agent working for the Gestapo.
Fritz was delighted with these secret arrangements. The more schemes and complicated tricks there were, the happier he was. He insisted that he be informed by certain coded signals whether his messages had in fact been received. Thanks to his contacts in business circles who were constantly going back and forth between Switzerland and the Reich, Ernst Kocherthaler could have food parcels sent to Fritz, containing sardines, butter, coffee… These parcels, Fritz suggested, could be sent at regular intervals but would contain coffee only if the messages from Berlin had been received in Bern. The Americans and Kocherthaler were not enthusiastic, but they promised Fritz that they would do as he wished.
Before leaving, “Kaiser” wanted to repay the 200 Swiss francs that he had been given on his first trip by Allen Dulles. In order to do this, he had brought with him two gold rings (probably the wedding rings from his two marriages). He wanted to exchange them for money at a jewelry shop in Bern. The Americans dissuaded him, telling him that he should use his time for more useful things. They nevertheless agreed to keep the two rings as mementos of him.
Fritz asked the Americans if they could give him a revolver, but Dulles and Mayer thought that a firearm would only worsen his case if he were caught. Fritz was disappointed, but in any case he had what he needed in Berlin—in a drawer at home he kept a little revolver that he had brought back from South Africa, and he counted on using it on the day when the Gestapo came to arrest him.
The return train trip from Bern to Berlin went off without incident or air raids. He left on Thursday afternoon and arrived in Berlin the following morning. Among the diplomatic cables he was carrying in his briefcase was one from the chief of the German legation in Switzerland, Otto Köcher, telling Ribbentrop that Swiss neutrality would be preserved at all costs. “Switzerland cannot join the Allied cause,” he wrote in this cable of October 7, 1943. It was known in Berlin that the Americans were putting pressure on Switzerland, whose airfields they wanted to use for raids on Germany. Otto Köcher was well informed: The leaders in Bern had no intention of quarreling with Germany.
London, November 1943
Colonel David K. E. Bruce, head of the OSS in London, was a multimillionaire, a Democrat, and the son of a senator and son-in-law of Andrew Mellon, the American steel magnate and former secretary of the treasury. All information coming from Europe passed through him and his services before being communicated to OSS headquarters in Washington. In late November 1943, David Bruce received a note from Norman Holmes Pearson, his colleague in charge of counterespionage (X-2) in London. This eight-page note concerned Fritz Kolbe (“Subject: Wood case”). This was a synthesis of everything that had been written by the Americans and the English since early August about “George Wood.”
The document was full of mistakes, including in the presentation of facts: “On 16.8.43 an individual known as Wood appeared in Geneva carrying a diplomatic bag from the German FO…. His first approach was through a German Jew named Kochenthaler.” In this note, Fritz Kolbe was presented as a “somewhat naïve and romantic idealist” who “made no special effort to find out which of the cables were of special interest,” but who “made no attempt to lead the conversation into any particular channels.”
Dansey’s theory, according to which Kolbe was a navy officer who had been a double agent in the 1920s, was reiterated as a plausible hypothesis. What could be concealed behind “George Wood”? A German attempt to decipher the OSS Bern messages? To avoid this risk, everything had been done to confuse matters: none of the cables transmitted by “Wood” had been transcribed and “sent in the German text or even a literal English translation summary of the original cable,” in communications between Bern and London. Every proper name had been changed, whether of people or places. “We are keeping close watch on cipher security in re-wording,” Dulles wrote in one of his secret messages to Washington. In accordance with these elementary precautions, the word Grand meant the German foreign minister, Porto designated a German foreign embassy or legation, Grimm was used for Germany or German, Zulu was the equivalent of the United Kingdom, Red was France, Storm designated the German legation in Bern, Vinta was Ribbentrop, Apple was Otto Abetz, Fat Boy was Göring… Hitler had no alias.
Another hypothesis: “Wood” was working for a sophisticated operation aimed at drawing the Americans into a trap. He came to Bern only to awaken their interest in order to be in a better position to deceive them a little later on. That could not be ruled out. But an analysis of Wood’s messages did not provide anything, for the moment, to support that hypothesis. “To the contrary, a certain amount of interesting material from an X-2 [counterespionage] point of view has been revealed.”