“Damn right.”
“Take his scalp, too?”
Hill turned red with anger. “Look, you little asshole, I’m out there fighting while you’re in here hiding.”
“Great, Sergeant, but tell me why we’re fighting. We’ve got ninety percent of Germany, so who cares about this piddling little part called Germanica? The way I see it, the only real enemy we’ve got left is Japan. Germany didn’t bomb Pearl Harbor, the Japs did. I say we pull out of here and let the few Nazis left do whatever they want while we get rid of the Japs.”
“Private, are you saying you don’t want to fight the Germans?”
“That’s pretty much it, Sergeant. Are you gonna have me court-martialed? Maybe you’d like to see a picture of my kid. I want to be there when he grows up. I just don’t want to die for something stupid and unnecessary.”
Hill didn’t answer. He took his rifle and headed back to the division’s headquarters. He needed to talk to people about what he’d been told. Yeah, he had made a kill and he was proud of it. Or he thought he was. It was his fifteenth that he could confirm. It was a good kill. So why the hell did he feel so depressed?
CHAPTER 11
The sight of German soldiers marching down a street might not have shocked many people in Nazi-occupied Europe, but this was Arbon, Switzerland, not Poland or what had been Vichy France.
Ernie had been told to sit tight in Arbon, do nothing to aggravate anyone, especially the Nazis so close across the border, and observe. This morning he was sitting with Winnie and enjoying a coffee. She had just returned from another junket to Bern where she had met with Allen Dulles. He knew better than to ask why. Someday, he thought wryly, he’d have secrets to hold tightly as well.
She had also given up wearing her fat outfit, at least for this day, and was stylishly dressed in very modern slacks and a jacket, and Ernie greatly appreciated the fact. It was she who first saw the column of soldiers approaching.
“Ernie, look. Are they Swiss? They don’t quite look Swiss.”
Ernie turned and saw the coal-scuttle helmets. He tried to remember if the Swiss wore them as well. After a moment, it didn’t matter as the swastikas on the sides of their helmets became obvious. All he and Winnie could do was sit and stare in disbelief as the column marched by. The residents of Arbon were just as shocked. A few Germans tried to look stern but most of them were clearly enjoying themselves.
“Should we follow them?” Winnie asked. Ernie nodded and they let the column lead them to the very small train station that serviced Arbon. In recent weeks, a couple of spurs had been added and these led to fields just outside of town.
Along with a number of other people, they tried to get closer to where a locomotive pulling a number of freight cars had pulled up on one of the spur lines. Swiss police and German soldiers kept them at bay. Whoever or whatever was on the train was not for public view. The two of them pushed to the front of the crowd and presented their credentials proclaiming them as accredited diplomats. The Swiss police were adamant.
“Those documents will keep you from getting arrested, but not from being detained if I feel you are disobeying my lawful instructions,” a police corporal said. When Winnie tried to say something, the policeman silenced her with a steely glance and a reminder that women in Switzerland were third-class citizens, and had not even risen to the level of second class. They could not vote and many jobs were closed to them.
“Will you stop me from taking pictures?” she asked.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” said the Swiss cop, “but I suppose I can’t stop everyone.” A number of Arbon’s residents were taking their own photos of the incredible sight.
Ernie looked over the column of Germans and estimated their number at at least two hundred. “Is Switzerland being invaded?” he facetiously asked.
The policeman actually smiled. “I like to think it would take more than this to conquer my country.”
A column of trucks was heard approaching. They arrived and pulled alongside the parked train. The doors on the freight cars were opened and the soldiers began unloading crates. Ernie always carried his binoculars and used them to see what was being moved. He also tried to see if any of the Krauts at the train were the ones who’d beaten him. He looked for any senior officers. When he thought he saw one, he pointed the person out to Winnie who snapped him with her telephoto lens.
The crates appeared to be carrying canned food and nothing more suspicious. Another freight car contained reasonably fresh produce and that was thrown into trucks.
“I have a question,” Winnie asked. “Why did they make the soldiers walk here instead of letting them ride on the trucks?”
The police corporal paused for a moment and then laughed. “Because they’re Germans, that’s why. Germans always do things the difficult way.”
* * *
The meeting between Allen Dulles and Alain Burkholter, the unofficial representative of the Swiss government, took place in a house in Arbon the next day. As usual, Burkholter was urbane and poised while Dulles was clearly agitated. They had before them a number of the photographs that Winnie had taken.
“We have nothing to hide,” Burkholter said. “We said all along that we would support the Germanica government with those supplies needed to maintain their basic needs. We said that we would send them food and that is exactly what we are doing. Your photos show nothing in the way of military supplies. There were no rifles, no machine guns, no ammunition, and certainly no tanks. You would find, if we were to permit you to inspect these shipments, quantities of medical supplies as well.”
Dulles smiled. “Are you saying that you would let us inspect the shipments?”
“Absolutely not. You read too much into my comment.”
“But what if we were to somehow find that weapons and such were being shipped in? What would your government’s stance be then, Mr. Burkholter?”
Burkholter simply shrugged. “I believe that I already stated the dilemma the Swiss government finds itself in. We dare not enrage the savage animal that is just outside our door. We have only a few planes and absolutely no tanks, so we cannot give the Germans any. But if they were to forcibly demand ammunition and small arms to include antitank and antiaircraft weapons, we would be hard-pressed to deny them.”
“That and the fact that many citizens of Switzerland support the Nazis would also make it difficult to say no, wouldn’t it?”
“I won’t argue the point. By the way, if you are thinking of having your OSS people use their considerable skills at sabotage to stop or delay the shipments, please don’t. We would be exceedingly angry, especially if Swiss citizens were either killed or injured. We would protest vigorously and consider taking very harsh action against the perpetrators.”
With that and after traditional insincere pleasantries, the meeting ended. Burkholter departed by car and, after he was gone, Dulles signaled for Ernie and Winnie to join him.
Dulles lit up his pipe and puffed for a moment. It appeared to calm him. “I presume you heard everything.”
“Clear as a bell,” Ernie said. “The microphones were well placed.”
“Good. We will make a copy here and send both separately to Washington. Now, I understand you heard what he said. But did you hear what he didn’t say?”
“I don’t understand,” said a puzzled Winnie.
Dulles smiled tolerantly. He was very fond of Winnie. “Think. What are the rules of the game? What did he say about sabotage?”
Ernie understood first. “The rules are simple. Don’t hurt anybody who’s Swiss. Other than that, all options are open.”
* * *
Tanner looked at the score or so of bedraggled and filthy men huddled in a classroom of what had been a school. They weren’t particularly cold, but they were concerned about their immediate safety and their futures, which made some of them shiver. A couple of them tried to smile, signifying that they wanted to be friends despite the fact that they’d been shooting at Americans earlier this day.