Page 38 of The Last Safe Place

“It’s an honor to serve under you.” Bernd admired the old man, waiting with such composure for the inevitable. His ownknees were shaking, even though he wasn’t in the line of fire – his rank was far too insignificant. He wasn’t alone in his admiration for Admiral Canaris: half the Abwehr idolized their boss and would have done almost anything for him. Indeed, a small group among them was even willing to commit treason under his leadership.

Without Canaris as a leader, the group of conspirators could never have formed within the organization. He had appointed regime critics such as von Dohnanyi and Oster to positions of trust, and his close confidant Lahousen was no Nazi either.

At around 4 p.m., the bunker door flew open and Hitler stepped out, followed by Generaloberst Jodl, Chief of Wehrmacht Operations Staff, and Joachim von Ribbentrop, Reich Minister of Foreign Affairs.

The instant the Führer spotted Canaris, he turned pale with anger and stormed toward him. “I demand an explanation! Why do I have an intelligence agency at all, if such unqualified disasters as this happen? We had practically the same mess a year ago. Do you want to explain to me how this is possible?”

Bernd stood behind Canaris, his knees shaking. Instinctively, he shuffled a little closer to the admiral, partly seeking protection, partly in support of his superior, though his support was unnecessary.

Admiral Canaris stood unmoved, shoulders straight, facing the Führer, his head only slightly bowed as Hitler’s fury poured out over him.

Ribbentrop kept his distance, almost bursting with schadenfreude, since he’d always detested Canaris, and with him, the Abwehr. Bernd’s heart dropped into his boots. Luckily, he wasn’t the one receiving a roasting.

Hitler’s fury was increasing with every moment. Furious, he heaped one accusation after another onto the Abwehr Chief. Bernd doubted that he himself would have been able to remainso calm. Canaris’ composure was probably the secret to how the admiral had managed to maintain his position in the upper echelons of power for so long, despite having countless enemies on all sides.

Finally, the Führer spat out, “You are responsible. You should have thought things through more carefully. But above all, you should have examined your people more thoroughly. Then it would have been impossible for a traitor to sneak in.”

Bernd shrank under the tirade like a leaky balloon. Cold sweat ran down his back as he wondered whether he or Knut would soon have to answer before a court-martial.

Admiral Canaris, on the other hand, betrayed no emotion. Finally, as Hitler was forced to pause for breath, the admiral seized the opportunity to reply. Bernd’s heart almost stopped in terror.

“Mein Führer,” said Canaris, giving a hint of a bow, “all the agents in Operation Pastorius are long-serving party members. They were recommended to me by the foreign department of the NSDAP as loyal National Socialists without exception. The operation leader is a holder of the Blood Order medal.”

Hitler’s cold, stern eyes bored into the admiral. Bernd swallowed hard, as he noticed the Führer’s inner battle – he’d realized he couldn’t simply brush aside the admiral’s argument. Tense as a bowstring, Bernd watched for what would happen next, grateful he wasn’t the target of Hitler’s rage. As it was, he yearned to crawl away like a mouse into a hole.

After an uneasy silence, during which not even the birds in the trees chirped, the Führer spat out, “And what will happen to the poor men who so bravely volunteered for this operation? They will undoubtedly be hanged or shot. If this is how your operations turn out, you’d be better off recruiting criminals or Jews.”

With those words, the Führer turned on his heel and walked away without as much as a greeting, Jodl and Ribbentrop in tow.

Before Bernd had recovered from the shock, Admiral Canaris turned to him, a small smile playing about his lips. “You heard the Führer. Start recruiting criminals or Jews for the next foreign intelligence mission.”

A wave of relief washed over Bernd. It was all he could do to resist shouting in triumph. Thanks to the admiral’s hardened demeanor, not only could they present a direct order from the Führer to use Jews as agents, they also had high-ranking witnesses who could confirm every word. Not even the Gestapo could stonewall any longer.

Almost floating with elation, Bernd boarded the plane for home. He could hardly wait to report that their plans could finally progress.

19

Eberhard stared at the letter, stunned.

… must now wear the yellow star as a mark of your Jewish origin.

Lowering his hand with the paper in it, he leaned back. He was still sitting there when Selma came home from shopping.

“What’s wrong?” she asked with a horrified look on her face.

Summoning his last strength, he took a deep breath and held out the sheet of paper with the Imperial Eagle crest. The consequences of the order written on it weighed so heavily on his soul, even this small movement felt like lifting a hundredweight bag of cement. He felt like he was standing in quicksand, slowly closing around his legs and pulling him deeper and deeper, squeezing his intestines in a vice and finally taking his breath away.

Selma put down the shopping bags, which looked lighter every week, and took the letter. After scanning its contents, she said drily, “Welcome to the club.”

If the situation hadn’t been so grave, he would have laughed at her black humor. But even that couldn’t cheer him up today.He stroked his bald head in despair. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“Well. Not much is going to change for us. You’ve been a Jew for a long time, the star is merely the visible sign of it.”

Eberhard gave a tortured groan. “It’s so much more than that. The whole of Operation Seven is doomed to fail if I have to wear the star.”

“You’re exaggerating, my dear. It’s honestly not that bad.” Selma put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Admittedly, it’s not pleasant, but you get used to it, you’ll see.”

“You don’t understand.” He shook his head gloomily. “If I have to wear the star, I won’t be allowed into the Bendlerblock, despite my permanent pass.” Even as he spoke, Selma’s face paled. “Nor will I be allowed to go to the authorities to obtain the countless permits and authorizations needed. Who’s going to do that for us?”