For a moment longer he continued to stare at me, then he made an impatient gesture. ‘[It is as I thought! Only the Reich wants peace!]’
He turned away from me with a bad-tempered, dismissive wave of the hand, and began to stride up the rough path in the direction of the house. I walked quickly after him, sensing already that if word of our conversation reached my superiors in the Red Cross, I would be boiled in oil.
We breasted the rise and came to the stand of trees that grew between the grounds of the house and the cliff area. Two SS officers in their sharp black uniforms were waiting on the lawn, staring towards us. I sensed trouble piling up on trouble for me. Hess came to a halt and faced me as I caught up with him.
‘[We have work to be doing,]’ he said in a more reasonable tone of voice.’[Mr Sawyer, let me tell you that even if you do not remember our earlier meeting in Berlin, I have myself now recalled the circumstances. Perhaps you have deliberately put them from your mind. We have indeed moved a long way since then. I understand the danger you are in, of being a British neutral in time of war. You can be sure I will say nothing of it again.]’
‘[Thank you, Herr Deputy Führer,]’ I said.
‘[Later, perhaps, you and I will have another opportunity to speak in private.]’
It was not to be. That was the only private conversation I had with Rudolf Hess during that stage of the negotiations. In fact, I scarcely saw him again before the end of the conference.
Almost from the moment when I returned to the villa the pressure of work on us greatly increased, with dozens of position papers, protocols, draft agreements, revised drafts, codicils and memoranda in need of practically instantaneous preparation and translation. None of us complained about the strain that the workload was placing on us, because of the unique importance of what we were doing, but for the next thirty-six hours we worked with hardly a break.
In the early hours of our last morning at Boca di Inferno Dr Burckhardt unexpectedly walked into our room and we rose to our feet in astonishment. Smilingly he signalled to us to relax. He was looking as tired as everyone else: I knew from the glimpses I had had of the main discussions that he had hardly been away from the conference hall. He was the only one of the principal negotiators who had visited us in our workmanlike domain, with its typewriters and notebooks on every working surface, the dirty glasses, cups and plates scattered everywhere, the piles of discarded papers all over the carpet, the jackets slung across the backs of chairs, the tobacco-heavy air.
Dr Burckhardt made some self-deprecating remark about being curious to see for himself where the real work had been going on: the furnace of the engine-room, as he described it. He said he was pleased to report that the talks between the British and German delegates had reached a conclusion and he thanked us for our dedication and uncomplaining labours. We gave him a polite but enthusiastic round of applause. As it sank in what the conclusion to the conference might actually mean, our applause turned quickly to loud cheering. Dr Burckhardt smiled modestly, nodding around to all of us.
At the end he caught my eye and with an inclination of his head indicated that I should follow him out of the room. I did so, with my hard-working colleagues watching me with noticeable curiosity.
Outside in the corridor, when he had closed the door to the room, Dr Burckhardt shook my hand warmly.
‘[Mr Sawyer, I wish to thank you on behalf of the International Red Cross for your contribution this week.]’
I mumbled something about doing no more than what I had been asked to do, and so on.
‘[Yes, indeed. We are all working for the same thing, but it has been a particularly effective meeting. You should say nothing to your colleagues at the moment, but there will be a second round of talks in a few weeks’ time, when the agreement will be ratified. The date and place have not yet been set, but the conference will take place near the beginning of May. I should add that your personal presence has been especially requested by one of the principals. May we count on you to be available?]’
‘[Yes, of course, Dr Burckhardt.]’
‘[You have a family in Britain, I believe. Would your responsibilities there prevent you from making a second journey on our behalf?]’
‘[No, sir. My wife and I are expecting our first baby. But it is not due until the end of May]’
‘[All our business should be completed by then. Indeed, you’ve helped make it probable that your baby will be born in peacetime. Congratulations, Mr Sawyer!]’
With that cheering news he shook my hand again and wished me well, and that was that. I stood in the corridor, thunderstruck by the idea that peace was not an abstract notion but an achievable reality in my own life. Our baby would be born to a world of peace.
I had not fully realized that before! I felt joy rising in me. Great relief consumed me. I wanted to run and shout, but instead I stood by myself in that corridor, tears in my eyes, realizing that I was privy to the greatest, most important news in the world.
I went back into our office. In a daze I helped my colleagues to finish off the few remaining tasks and then to tidy up the room. A little more than an hour later I was in my bed in my hotel room, so excited I could hardly sleep, despite the exhaustion that was drowning me.
The next day I returned to England in the same white-painted plane, and two days after that I was reunited with Birgit at home in Rainow.
xiii
Everyone who was involved in the Lisbon agreement was sworn to secrecy and was provided with a cover story of some kind, to explain our absence. I had been to North Wales, it turned out, training with new rescue equipment received from the USA.
The events of that sunny winter’s week in Cascais are a matter of history, and no secrecy remains. What we drew up and agreed was a protocol for peace, terms which required to be ratified only at the highest levels for the armistice to be binding. Several weeks lay between the first and second peace conferences, a time of intense diplomatic and governmental activity, unwitnessed by anyone outside the inner circles of the two governments and the ruling council of the Red Cross. I certainly had little to do with what went on and was left in a vacuum of uncertainty.
Because I was a party to the drawing up of the agreement, I believed I knew every clause, paragraph and sentence by heart. What I did not know was what the people at the highest levels would make of the deal.
Would Hitler accept it? Would Churchill?
14
Prime Minister’s Personal Minutes and Telegrams, January-June 1941; from Appendix B of The German War: Volume II - Their Finest Hour (1950) by Winston S. Churchill (Duke of London).
Prime Minister to Secretary of State for Air and Chiefs of the Air Staff
January 17, 1941
Some of the German aircraft shot down on our shores must still be in repairable condition. I have seen enlightening reports on the state of their armour, engines, weapons and so on, after detailed technical examination at Farnborough. Are we able to get any of the aircraft back into a condition in which they might be flown, as for training sessions?
In particular, are we able to get one of their twin-engined Messerschmitt 110s working and flying again? One is needed urgently.