Page 41 of The Last Safe Place
Emil waved his response aside. “That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about the regrettable political attitude of the Swiss immigration police, something which we can probably only settle in a typically Swiss manner.”
Knut was baffled. “Can you elaborate, please?”
“Then you haven’t heard?” Emil looked questioningly from Knut to Bernd.
They both shook their heads.
“Alas,” Emil pushed his glasses up again. “At a meeting of the cantonal immigration police in Montreux last week, themain topic of discussion was the future approach to the growing number of refugees at the Swiss border.”
Knut groaned, since he could imagine what Emil was getting at.
“Heinrich Rothmund, head of the Swiss Immigration Office, spoke of the dangers of Judaization during the meeting. As a result, the government has closed the border to Jews.”
Knut looked over at Bernd, whose jaw had dropped in horror.
Emil shrugged apologetically. “An official letter to the cantons reads: ‘Political refugees, i.e. foreigners who can credibly claim to be such at their first interview, are not to be turned away. Those claiming to be refugees for mere racial reasons, for example Jews, are not considered political refugees.’”
“That’s… bad news.” Knut swallowed hard. Once again, Operation Seven seemed doomed to failure.
Emil nodded. “The inevitable public protests followed, upon which Swiss Minister of Justice Eduard von Steiger gave a speech outside the Young Church in Zurich-Oerlikon. He said, among other things: ‘A man in command of a small, overloaded lifeboat with limited capacity and equally limited supplies, seeing thousands of victims of a shipwreck crying out for rescue, must seem harsh if he cannot accommodate all of them. And yet he can demonstrate his humanity by warning them in time against false hope, and trying to save at least those he has already taken in.’”
“Nice comparison. Poor, unfortunate Switzerland, an overcrowded boat about to sink.” Bernd’s words dripped with sarcasm.
“You said earlier we could approach this in a typically Swiss manner. What did you mean?” Knut tilted his head.
“Money.” Emil gave a broad grin. “Money rules the world and nowhere more so than in Switzerland.”
Bernd’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought the Allies had put a stop to human trafficking, especially of Jews.”
“That’s what makes this matter so sensitive. We must approach it very delicately. We don’t sell Jews to neutral countries, we merely equip them with the necessary means to support themselves in their destination country, so that they don’t become a burden to the state. The German government therefore isn’t profiting from the misfortune of persecuted Jews.”
To Knut this was pure hypocrisy. Anyone who could pay was allowed to flee to safe territory, while the poor had to stay.
“Where will the money come from? And how much are they demanding?” asked Bernd.
“My department will be responsible for that. I can’t reveal details of the exact procedures and sources. At the moment, I can only say that we have to approach the issue from two angles: first, the agents must contribute their own assets to obtain internal approvals from Wehrmacht High Command and the Gestapo. Secondly, someone must travel to Switzerland and obtain agreement from the authorities there. In addition, he must sound out the minimum amount per person the immigration police are willing to accept.”
Knut ran a hand through his hair. It felt as though they were jinxed; as soon as one problem was solved, two more appeared.
“I assume your department will make the trip to Switzerland?” Bernd asked.
“Unfortunately not.” Emil grimaced. “I’d love to visit Zurich, to enjoy a real coffee and a Swiss chocolate pastry, but internal squabbles won’t allow it. It will have to be someone from the Foreign Office.”
“If there’s coffee, I’m in.” Knut grinned, though he didn’t hold out much hope of a trip to the neutral country.
“Let’s not talk about work anymore,” Bernd decided, signaling to the waitress to bring three more beers. “The next round is on me.”
By the time they left, it was getting late. As they walked toward the restaurant exit, Knut nudged Bernd and slid a spare key to his apartment into his friend’s pocket.
They said goodbye to Emil, who set off to the tram stop.
“Wait,” said Bernd. “My stop is in that direction too.”
A pang of disappointment hit Knut, until he noticed Bernd’s wink and casually said goodbye. “Have a good journey home. See you tomorrow.”
“You too,” replied Emil and Bernd.
In his apartment, Knut brewed coffee, or rather, ersatz coffee, and dreamed of sitting in the bright sunshine in Zurich’s Bahnhofstrasse, sipping real coffee and biting into a delicious chocolate pastry.