Michael Ridpath: Shadows of War

‘You don’t have to tell me,’ said Van. ‘He never ceases to harangue me and Lord Halifax to bring this war to an early conclusion.’

‘Which is impossible to do without giving in to tyranny,’ Conrad said.

‘Perhaps. But there might be a way.’

Conrad’s pulse quickened. His suspicion as to why he had been summoned to Whitehall looked as if it was going to be confirmed. ‘Are the German generals finally going to do something?’

‘It’s an eventuality that we cannot discount. It is for that reason I summoned you here. Have you had any communication recently with your German…’ Van paused to reach for the correct word. ‘…friends?’

‘Not since this time last year.’ Conrad had received no reply to his letter to Theo on the first day of the war.

‘And who were those friends, exactly?’

‘You want names?’

Van nodded.

Conrad hesitated. When he had returned from Berlin the previous autumn, he had been determined not to betray Theo, who had warned him of leaks in the British secret service. But now Britain and Germany were at war, and Sir Robert Vansittart was at the centre of the government directing that war.

‘My friend Lieutenant Theo von Hertenberg of the Abwehr.’ The Abwehr was the German secret service. ‘His boss, Colonel Oster. Captain Heinz, another Abwehr officer. Ewald von Kleist, a well-connected Prussian aristocrat. General Beck, the former Chief of the General Staff.’

‘And who else was part of the conspiracy?’

Theo had known most of the conspirators, but had not passed their names on to Conrad. Some, though, had been obvious.

‘Well, there’s Admiral Canaris, the Chief of the Abwehr. Theo Kordt in the German Foreign Office. Count Helldorf, the Chief of the Berlin Police. General von Witzleben. General Halder, the current Chief of the General Staff. Hjalmar Schacht, the former President of the Reichsbank. Many others I don’t know.’ As he reeled off the names, Conrad was reminded how extraordinary it was that so many senior members of the German government had been willing to overthrow their leader. And had come so close.

‘Have you come across a Captain Schämmel of the OKW Transport Division?’

Conrad frowned. ‘No, I don’t think so. There were a lot of people involved. Hertenberg may know him.’

Van was listening intently as he jotted the names Conrad mentioned on a pad of paper on his desk.

‘Over the last few months we have been bombarded by peace initiatives from every quarter. Most are a waste of time.’ Van grimaced. ‘An enormous waste of time. But our people in Holland have come across one which seems promising. They have been approached by a certain Captain Schämmel to discuss possible peace terms following a successful attempt by unspecified generals to remove Hitler.’

Conrad grinned. ‘I’m very glad to hear that.’ They had come so close twelve months before; only the offer by Neville Chamberlain of peace talks at Munich had derailed their plans at the last minute, to Conrad’s intense frustration. He had assumed that now war had been declared, all thoughts of removing Hitler would have been shelved. But apparently not.

‘Schämmel seems genuine and the Cabinet have been discussing how to respond. But we need to be sure. Which is why I thought of you.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. You are the only Briton who has had direct contact with a number of the conspirators. I want you to go to Holland at once and meet this Schämmel, with our people. I would also like you to make contact with your friend Hertenberg. We believe that he has been operating in Holland recently; as a neutral country directly between Germany and Britain, it has seen a good deal of intelligence activity. Ask him whether the generals really are planning to remove Hitler and whether this man Schämmel represents them.’

‘Hertenberg might be unwilling to tell me,’ Conrad said. ‘He always made clear to me he was a patriot first and foremost, and his country is now at war with ours.’

‘If indeed there is coup planned, and the potential new government wishes to open discussions with us, he’ll tell you.’

Conrad considered Van’s point. It made sense.

‘Can you get in touch with him yourself?’ Van said. ‘Our people could no doubt help you, but it would probably be better all round if you could contact him independently.’

Conrad could hardly telephone him or send him a wire. But Denmark might work after all. ‘I can’t guarantee it, but I can have a go,’ he said. ‘When do I go to Holland?’

‘You are booked on a flight to Amsterdam early tomorrow morning.’

Conrad felt a rush of excitement. After the tedium of all that training, finally a chance to do something that might make a difference. ‘I’m due back at Tidworth this evening. Have you cleared it with my CO?’

‘That will be done,’ said Van.

Conrad smiled. ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘If the German generals are finally going to dump Hitler, I’m grateful for the chance to be a part of it.’

‘Good. Mrs Dougherty outside will furnish you with the details.’ Van stood up to usher Conrad out of his office. ‘You will no doubt have contact with our people in Holland, but I would like you to report directly to me when you get back to London.’ He smiled. ‘I prefer to have direct access to sources of information. It gives me a much clearer picture.

‘Certainly, Sir Robert,’ Conrad said as he shook the mandarin’s proffered hand. ‘One question?’

‘Yes?’

‘Have you discussed this with my father?’

Van smiled. ‘In very general terms. He helped me track you down.’ The smile disappeared. ‘You raise a good point. I think it would be inadvisable to discuss the details of this with him. He may well press you on the issue, but you should be firm.’

‘I will be,’ said Conrad.

Conrad was damned sure his father would press him on the issue, and he wasn’t looking forward to that at all.

Conrad didn’t have much time. He arranged with Mrs Dougherty for his aeroplane ticket to be forwarded to his club, and went there himself to compose the telegram.

When he had last seen Theo, in Berlin over a year before, Theo had suggested a means of communication in emergencies. It involved an address in Copenhagen, and the use of certain codewords. These involved people and places from the Second Schleswig War of the 1860s, which was the subject of Conrad’s unfinished thesis at Oxford. The idea was that these could credibly be buried in a letter to a Dane on the subject of his academic work.

It was the address Conrad had used for his letter in plain English in September. He didn’t know why he hadn’t received a reply. Perhaps Theo disapproved of the sentimentality, or the lack of professionalism, or, more worryingly, he had simply never received the message.

Anyway, there was no time for a letter now. Scarcely time for a telegram. It took Conrad several attempts before he was happy.

‘PLEASE INFORM PROFESSOR MADVIG THAT I WISH TO MEET HIM IN LEIDEN 10 NOV STOP NEED TO DISCUSS DYBBOL STOP LEAVE MESSAGE AT HOTEL LEVEDAG STOP DE LANCEY’.

Johan Madvig had been a Danish liberal politician in the 1860s: the use of his name in the message meant ‘meet me’. Dybbøl was the major battle of the war, and that meant ‘emergency’. Three was subtracted from any dates and times, so ‘10 Nov’ meant 7 November. And there was no way that Conrad could think of to hide the name of a rendezvous near The Hague. Leiden was a nearby university town, and the Hotel Levedag was one mentioned in the guidebook to Holland in the club library. He translated the draft telegram into Danish, addressed it to Anders Elkjaer at a house in a suburb of Copenhagen, and took it along to the Post Office to be sent right away.