Colin Gee - Opening Moves

His task was simple.

Regardless of the previous years of war and what had been done that was regrettable, find men who would wear the uniform of his beloved legion and who were prepared to honour the legion code, men who could bring soldierly qualities to the struggle against the communists What his country needed now were soldiers of quality and no one could refute the fact that the Germans had them in large numbers, many of them languishing in prisoner of war camps the length and breadth of Europe.

Rumour had it that there were over five million Germans presently in captivity, less the sixty-three men Lavalle had thus far found to ply their profession further afield in the jungles of Indo-China. Most of those were either on their way to or had arrived at the Sidi-bel-Abbes headquarters of the Legion.

That the struggle for which Lavalle was recruiting was exclusively against the communist meant that he had only had three suitable candidates turn away from the offer he put on the table, for one thing each and every German understood was the communist threat.

So here he was in Winzenheim, one of the Rheinwiesenlager, the set of camps hugging the Rhine that were rapidly acquiring a reputation as hellholes for their occupants.

The large room set aside for his ‘interrogations’ was classically devoid of any charm. Concrete walls, white-washed and bare, save for an electric fan high in one corner soundlessly agitating the air. Windowless and poorly lit, the only furniture being the two chairs and a battered but serviceable table placed centrally, topped off with an electric lamp and an ashtray.

He sat down at the table and reached for the file on top of the pile. This file had drawn his attention the moment it arrived in his office, for it was one of very few which were red, and one of only six he had seen that had a blue ribbon around it. That made the person described therein very special indeed. This man was also the reason Lavalle was conducting his business on a Sunday, when the rest of the section was off enjoying the high-life in Karlsruhe. The name on the file had been known to Lavalle long before his involvement with the clandestine operation that brought the document into his possession.

He had read it previously of course, three times in fact, and fascinating reading it was too, now supplemented by additional witness statements from German prisoners and newly arrived Soviet Intel files adding to what the allied intelligence services had scrounged up during six years of war. The man described in these pages was a real legend, both in his own army and in that of his enemies, and that was a rarity. Rommel had achieved it of course, but this man had fought his war exclusively in Europe, and most of it in the bloodbath that was the Eastern Front.

The door opened and the guard gestured the arriving prisoner inside.

Lavalle looked up and his immediate reaction was to stand and salute, a reaction he only just managed to suppress in time, although the man who stood opposite him saw the faint twitch of movement.

The German in front of Lavalle was the most impressive soldier he had ever seen, the more so as he was stood at the attention in immaculate full uniform, his medals shining and resplendent, eyes calm and firm.

He invited Knocke to sit, which Ernst did with a lithe and graceful movement.

The lack of any formal introduction from his interrogator was not lost on Knocke.

Lavalle opened the folder and, in perfect German, read aloud through the family details, list of unit assignments and general service record, pausing only to confirm a date here, an award there.

“Well you seem to have been very thorough,” ceded Knocke after ten minutes of solid listening.

“You even have my two weeks at Zossen recorded, which was extremely secret and not even my divisional commander knew I had been there. Also I congratulate you on your mastery of my language”.

“Thank you Herr Knocke. I am from Alsace of course. Now, let me be frank and get to the point. My main purpose is normally to interview members of the defeated German army with a view to recruiting them into the Foreign Legion and sending them to fight for France in Indo-China. You are not seen in that role, partially because of your age but partially because of your speciality being with tanks.”

“War is a young man’s business for sure Colonel, and panzers are not a jungle weapon,” and delivered with a quizzical inflection, “So why am I here?”

“That is a good question.”

Lavalle brought out his Gauloise cigarettes and offered one up. Ernst did not comment on the fingers missing from the hand holding the packet. Veterans did not do such things. When both men were enjoying their first puffs, he continued.

“I am here because it would seem that you fought a fair and chivalrous war and are not tarnished with excesses such as are some of your countrymen. Neither are you in anyway directly involved with the extermination camps.”

Lavalle straightened a little. “Had you been so involved then we would be having a very different conversation right now. Instead, I am here to make you an offer. Many of your comrades find the lure of fighting communists too much to resist, some wish to hide in the legion to evade responsibility for what they have done and others sign up simply because they have nothing better to do. I do not see you agreeing to serve France in any capacity for any of those reasons Herr Knocke. Not even ego I suspect”, which was said in such a way as a listener might think it was also a question.

Knocke shifted slightly and delivered a gentle riposte in a tone that made Lavalle understand the force and personality of the man opposite him.

“I can assure you that the Russian front afforded no room for ego, Herr Oberst.”

“Permit me to rephrase that,” Lavalle countered softly after a respectable pause.

“You have skills, skills which my country and others might need to draw upon. Sat opposite us are millions of Russians and already there are problems brewing. Across the world communism is taking further root. Who knows where the next Hitler or Mussolini will rise?”

“Or Stalin?”

“Or Stalin Herr Knocke, indeed, or Stalin.”

Lavalle offered his cigarettes again and when both men had eagerly drawn the rich smoke into their lungs he continued.

“This war is over and you will not take to a uniform again to oppose the enemies of your country, or mine for that matter. You will not bear arms again I am sure, but you have priceless knowledge and skills. I do not understand precisely where you would fit in within the greater scheme of things but I do know that you will not be allowed to fade away and that you will be asked to bring your skills to serve again.”

‘So basically you have nothing to offer me, and no idea of what you might want me to do. How can I refuse,” with a chuckle that fell short of amusement.

“Au contraire Herr Knocke. I am empowered to offer you and a selected group, removal from this facility within the week, unofficial paid employment based in pleasant surroundings and a guarantee that you will not be asked to do anything that would harm your comrades or country.”

“A lot is expected with little by way of definite information. I cannot entertain any advance from an enemy of my country in any case.”

“We are no longer enemies, surely that is clear?” Lavalle left that hanging in the air but received no acknowledgement from Knocke. “The war is over, the peace is signed. We must all now stand together in the face of the communists.”

Knocke leant slightly forward.

“As we Germans were saying for years; years in which we stood alone against them! We have already shed much blood, and suffered much loss, and I saw too many of my men die in the cause you now conveniently wish to champion. You have just read out that I grew up in a small village called Metgethen, Herr Oberst; does that mean anything to you?” The emotion was controlled but none the less there, and again the force of Knocke gave Lavalle pause, and his reply was obviously sincere and heartfelt.