Marion Kummerow - From the Ashes

The GI proved to be a good dancer and despite her secret yearning for Werner, she enjoyed herself very much. Shortly before midnight, she saw Bruni and Dean Harris sneak out and leave the inebriated guests to themselves. Marlene took it as her cue to search for Lotte, who’d been whisked away by a British soldier.

“Hey, Lotte, I’m about to go home. You want to come with me?”

“Sure.” Lotte seemed thankful for Marlene’s interruption and whispered in her ear, “It’s high time for me to leave. My admirer is getting a bit handsy.”

Marlene nodded knowingly. Lotte was still waiting for her fiancé to return from Russian captivity and while she was outgoing and fun, she never enjoyed more than a harmless flirt. Together they scanned the room for Zara, who was in a deep embrace with a handsome man.

“You want to leave with us?” Marlene asked, but the soft flush on Zara’s cheeks told her the answer, even before the other woman shook her head.

Dean was in a bad mood. Due to the Soviet’s veto the new Lord Mayor Ernst Reuter still couldn’t take office. The elections had been several months ago already and nothing had changed, because the Soviets filibustered, obstructed and asked for additional investigations.

And there was nothing he could do. General Clay, his superior in the Allied Control Council, had explicitly told him not to antagonize the Russians. As if those thugs needed antagonizing. They came up with the vilest shit all by themselves.

For the time being Dean was stuck with a Berlin Magistrat filled with unelected communist members, while the elected delegates were kept out of office with the flimsiest of excuses. How on earth was he supposed to govern Berlin under these circumstances?

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He looked up in surprise. It was early in the morning and his men knew not to disturb him during the quiet hour before the official office hours began.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened slowly, almost reluctantly and the man who peered inside wasn’t in uniform. For a moment Dean considered sending him away, but then he recognized Werner Böhm. Now, that’s a surprise!

He kind of liked Böhm, who – although a staunch communist – always tried to stick to facts and reason. The last time they’d had a short conversation was at the horrible two-year anniversary of the capitulation in Karlshorst. He wondered what the Moscow stooge could possibly want this early in the morning.

“Good morning, Herr Kommandant,” Böhm said, standing in the doorframe, nervously scanning the room. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night with dark shadows beneath his alert eyes. “Do you have a minute to talk… in private?”

Dean was thoroughly intrigued and pointed to the chair in front of his desk, “Close the door and take a seat, please.”

“Herr Kommandant,” Böhm said in flawless English. “I have an unusual request, but first I must ask you for complete confidentiality. Nobody can know about our conversation.”

Dean cocked his head. Things were getting stranger by the minute and he wondered what kind of top-secret mission Böhm was on. Did he bring a peace offering from Sokolov on the matter of the Lord Mayor? Unlikely. The Soviets didn’t send German communists to negotiate with the other Allies.

Or did Böhm know something about the four hundred abducted German engineers, whisked away to the Soviet Union during a cloak-and-dagger operation to work for their new masters? But why would he come to him? What did he want in return?

“Nobody will learn about this conversation from me,” Dean said and leaned back, quietly observing how Böhm nodded and fidgeted with his hands while taking a seat. The man was supremely nervous. For a moment Dean feared the German might plan something stupid and felt for the pistol he always kept in the open drawer of his desk.

During his two years in Berlin he’d received countless anonymous death threats, but he’d never actually considered someone coming into his office to kill him. Germans weren’t allowed to carry weapons, either. Not even the police. He relaxed again and shoved the frightening thought aside.

“This might sound rather strange to you, but…” Böhm inhaled deeply before he continued. “…I’m seeking your help to leave Berlin.”

Dean was stunned into silence, while the wheels in his brain set in motion and connected the dots. After long moments of silence, he asked, “You want to defect?”

Böhm buried his face in his hands before he looked up again and responded, “Yes. I… I have witnessed such awful things that I simply cannot stay loyal to the Soviets anymore. And… I’m afraid they will find out about my critical opinion and make me disappear forever. I got to know you as an honorable and upright man, therefore I’m coming here laying my fate in your hands.” Böhm bowed his head, as if waiting for Dean to slay his neck with a sharp blade.

Dean was speechless. Sure, there had been cases of defectors, mostly from the Soviet occupied zone, but nobody as high-up in the hierarchy as Böhm. He was a big fish. One that Dean could possibly exploit for anti-Soviet propaganda, maybe even use his intricate knowledge of the Soviet workings to coax Sokolov into agreeing to some of the disputed points at the Kommandatura. But… how could he know this wasn’t a ploy? He decided to get more information first.

“You’re right, that’s quite an unusual request and you will forgive me for having to ask some questions first.” The secret dossier he had on Böhm depicted the man as reasonable and humane, but a loyal Russian operative. Many defectors had become spies and Harris had to be careful since such an incident might cause friction in both the Kommandatura and the Allied Control Council.

Böhm nodded. “Anything you want.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the other man who was so obviously desperate. “You must know that there’s no way back, ever. So, what made you take this decision?”

“I have come to the conclusion that Stalin and his cronies have perverted the idea of communism to such a point that I can’t shoulder the responsibility of being part of these crimes against humanity.” Böhm straightened his shoulders and his eyes locked with Dean’s. “You will understand that I need to keep some of my knowledge as a pledge to make sure you get me safely out of Berlin and into the American zone in Germany. But I promise to tell your people everything I know, including…” Böhm looked around the room as if to make sure nobody was present to overhear them. “…the truth about the student leaders Tauber and Berger.”

Dean suppressed a gasp. Böhm had just validated his suspicions about the sudden confessions of the student leaders who fought for more democracy and less indoctrination. But he thought it wiser not to react to the bait.

“I understand your need to keep an ace up your sleeve, but I will need something with more substance to believe you. Smuggling a man of your position out of Berlin isn’t an easy undertaking and we risk the wrath of your Soviet masters.”

Böhm visibly flinched when Dean mentioned his Soviet masters, which led him to believe Böhm was telling the truth. More than ever Dean wished to have one of his experienced interrogators by his side. But since he’d promised the other man absolute confidentiality, he had to rely on his own instincts.

“I can’t divulge anything right now, because if I do, and the Soviets somehow find out…” Böhm didn’t finish his sentence. “Please, you must believe me. I will answer any and all questions as soon as I’m in a safe place.” Böhm’s pleading face shook Dean to the core. Having fought his way from Normandy all the way across the Rhine, he knew a desperate man when he saw one.