Daniel Silva - The Unlikely Spy

Hitler paused, allowing his words to sink in. "The invasion will be met with the full fury of our might and destroyed at the high-water mark. If that is not possible, and if the Anglo-Saxons succeed in securing a temporary beachhead, we must be prepared to rapidly redeploy our forces, stage a massive counterattack, and hurl the invaders back into the sea." Hitler crossed his arms. "But to achieve that goal, we must know the enemy's order of battle. We must know when he intends to strike. And, more important, where. Herr Generalfeldmarshal?"

Field Marshal Gerd von Rundstedt rose and wearily moved to the map, right hand clutching the jeweled field marshal's baton he carried at all times. Known as "the last of the German knights," Rundstedt had been dismissed and recalled to duty by Adolf Hitler more times than Canaris or even his own staff could remember. Detesting the fanatical world of the Nazis, it was Rundstedt who had derisively christened Hitler "the little Bohemian corporal." The strain of five long years of war was beginning to show on the narrow aristocratic features of his face. Gone were the stiff precise mannerisms that characterized the General Staff officers of the imperial days. Canaris knew Rundstedt drank more champagne than he should and needed large quantities of whisky to sleep at night. He regularly rose at the thoroughly unmilitary hour of ten o'clock in the morning; the staff at his headquarters at Saint-Germain-en-Laye rarely scheduled meetings before noon.

Despite his advancing years and moral decline, Rundstedt was still Germany's finest soldier-a brilliant tactician and strategic thinker-as he demonstrated to the Poles in 1939 and to the French and British in 1940. Canaris did not envy Rundstedt's situation. On paper he presided over a large and powerful force in the West: one and a half million men, including 350,000 crack Waffen-SS troops, ten panzer divisions, and two elite Fallschirmjager paratroop divisions. If deployed quickly and correctly, Rundstedt's armies were still capable of dealing the Allies a devastating defeat. But if the old Teutonic knight guessed wrong-if he deployed his forces incorrectly or made tactical blunders once the battle had begun-the Allies would establish their precious foothold on the Continent and the war in the West would be lost.

"In my opinion the equation is simple," Rundstedt began. "East of the Seine at the Pas de Calais or west of the Seine at Normandy. Each has its advantages and disadvantages."

"Go on, Herr Generalfeldmarshal."

Rundstedt continued in a dull monotone. "Calais is the strategic linchpin of the Channel coast. If the enemy secures a beachhead at Calais, he can turn to the east and be a few days' march from the Ruhrgebiet, our industrial heartland. The Americans want the war to be over by Christmas. If they succeed in a landing at Calais, they might get their wish." Rundstedt paused to allow his warning to sink in, then resumed his briefing. "There is another reason why Calais makes sense militarily-the Channel is the narrowest there. The enemy will be able to pour men and materiel into Calais four times faster than he would at Normandy or Brittany. Remember, the clock is ticking for the enemy the moment the invasion begins. He must build up troops, weapons, and supplies at an extremely rapid rate. There are three excellent deepwater ports in the Pas de Calais area"-Rundstedt tapped each with the tip of his baton, moving up the coastline-"Boulogne, Calais, and Dunkirk. The enemy needs ports. It is my belief that the first goal of the invaders will be to seize a major port and reopen it as quickly as possible, for without a major port the enemy cannot supply his troops. If he cannot supply his troops, he is dead."

"Impressive, Herr Generalfeldmarshal," Hitler said. "But why not Normandy?"

"Normandy presents the enemy with many problems. The distance across the Channel is much greater. At some points, high cliffs stand between the beaches and the mainland. The closest harbor is Cherbourg, at the tip of a heavily defended peninsula. It might be days before the enemy could take Cherbourg from us. And even if he did, he knows we would render it useless before surrendering it. But the most logical argument against a strike at Normandy, in my opinion, is its geographic location. It is too far to the west. Even if the enemy succeeds in landing at Normandy, he runs the risk of being pinned down and strategically isolated. He must fight us all the way across France before even reaching German soil."

"Your opinion, Herr Generalfeldmarshal?" Hitler snapped.

"Perhaps the Allies will engage in some trickery," Rundstedt said cautiously, fingers working over the baton. "A diversionary landing, perhaps, as you yourself have suggested, my Fuhrer. But the real strike will come here." He jabbed at the map. "At Calais."

"Admiral Canaris?" Hitler asked. "What kind of intelligence do you have to support that theory?"

Canaris, not one for formal displays at the map, remained seated. He reached into the breast pocket of his coat, where he kept a pack of cigarettes. The SS men flinched nervously. Canaris, shaking his head, slowly withdrew the cigarettes and displayed them. He laboriously lit one and blew a stream of smoke toward Himmler, knowing full well the Reichsfuhrer's pet peeve about tobacco. Himmler glared at him through the swirling pall of blue smoke, eyes betraying no emotion, the side of his face twitching nervously.

Canaris explained that the Abwehr was collecting and analyzing three types of intelligence connected with the invasion preparations: aerial photographs of enemy troops in southern England; enemy wireless communications monitored by the Funkabwehr, the agency's listening service; and reports from agents operating inside Britain.

"And what is that intelligence telling you, Herr Admiral?" Hitler snapped.

"Our initial intelligence tends to support the field marshal's assessment-that the Allies intend to strike at Calais. According to our agents there has been increased enemy activity in southeast England, directly across the Channel from the Pas de Calais. We have monitored wireless transmissions referring to a new force called the First United States Army Group. We have also been analyzing the enemy's air activity over northwest France. He is spending far more time over Calais-for the purposes of bombing and reconnaissance-than over Normandy or Brittany. I have one other piece of new information to report, my Fuhrer. One of our agents in England has a source inside the Allied high command. Last night, the agent transmitted a report. General Eisenhower has arrived in London. The Americans and British intend to keep his presence secret for the time being."

Hitler seemed impressed by the agent's report. If only Hitler knew the truth, Canaris thought: that now, just months before the most important battle of the war, the Abwehr's intelligence networks in England were very likely in tatters. Canaris blamed Hitler. During the preparations for Operation Seelowe-the aborted invasion of Britain-Canaris and his staff recklessly poured spies into England. All caution was thrown to the wind because of the desperate need for intelligence on coastal defenses and British troop positions. Agents were hastily recruited, poorly trained, and even more poorly equipped. Canaris suspected most walked straight into the arms of MI5, inflicting permanent damage on networks that took years of painstaking work to build. He could not admit that now; to do so would be to sign his own death warrant.

Adolf Hitler was pacing again. Canaris knew Hitler did not fear the coming invasion. Quite the opposite, he welcomed it. He had ten million Germans under arms and an armaments industry that, despite relentless Allied bombing and shortages of labor and raw material, continued to produce staggering amounts of weapons and supplies. He remained confident of his ability to repel the invasion and hand the Allies a cataclysmic defeat. Like Rundstedt, he believed a landing at the Pas de Calais made strategic sense, and it was there that his Atlantikwall most resembled his vision of an impregnable fortress. In effect, Hitler had tried to force the Allies to invade at Calais by ordering the launching sites for his V-1 and V-2 rockets to be placed there. Yet Hitler was also aware the British and Americans had engaged in deception throughout the war and would do so again as a prelude to the invasion of France.