Adam Bayne
documentation and be welcomed by the Duke of Hamilton, with less
chance of interception by the RAF in the far north.
But it was not yet decided who this so-called Peace Envoy would be.
Hess suggested it should be Ernst Bohle, a well-trusted long-time
Nazi party member, but Hitler rejected this. He insisted that the only
person with the experience and seniority was Rudolf Hess, who was
also an accomplished pilot and spoke good English.
And so it was that Rudolf Hess was appointed as Peace Envoy for
Operation Thor’s Hammer and ordered by his Fuhrer to prepare to
fly to England to negotiate peace between Germany and England.
Heidrun Elisabeth Goebbels was born on the 20th of October 1940.
Giving time for Magda to recover, on Saturday, the 16th of
November, we hosted the Silver Pheasant party at Café Gentz. We
had a giant cake with seven candles, representing Magda’s seven
children.
She did not bring the newborn baby with her; everyone had already
visited her at home for the cooing ceremony, so we were free to
indulge in the Silver Pheasant’s favourite pastime, drinking
Champagne.
Hoffmann had previously sent over two cases of Moet & Chandon,
which the maitre d’ had chilled ready. As he popped open the first
bottles, I asked Hoffmann, ‘How on earth do you continue to get a
supply of French Champagne now that France is under occupation
and there is a war going on?’
Hoffmann had a story to tell; as usual, I could see by the glint in his
eye. ‘The wine business, Adam, is similar to the art and antique
business. You never know how your luck will be from day to day,’
he said.
‘So, I suppose you have been lucky, ‘I said. ‘Not today, but nineteen
years ago, I had a lucky day,’ said Hoffmann. I laughed and said,
‘Sometimes you talk drivel, my old friend, but please continue.’
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Café Gentz and the Silver Pheasants
‘Back in 1921, Otto Klaebisch was a young man trying to run his
aged father’s near-bankrupt business in Munich,’ related Hoffmann,
‘The business was an import agency for French Cognac. His import
licence had expired, and he was struggling with post-war German
bureaucracy.’
‘This is excellent Champagne,’ interrupted Emma, ‘can I get some
for home, Hoffmann?’
‘Of course, any time,’ replied Hoffmann, ‘See me later. Now please
fill your glasses and enjoy this nectar of the gods.’
‘Get on with the story,’ I said, which he did.
‘As I was saying, in 1921, Otto’s family business was about to close.
I had been using a local joinery workshop to have some antique
furniture repaired. By chance, the joiner Eduard Schmid also
happened to be the Mayor, and he was very fond of any additional
benefits that might come his way. So, I introduced Otto to Eduard,
and they became partners in a successful brandy import business.’
Erna was getting bored, ‘So what, Heinrich?’ she said.
‘Listen and learn, my dear,’ he said, ‘Now that French wine
production is under the strict control of the German government,
each region will have a German Weinfuhrer.’
‘And that is where luck comes in,’ beamed Hoffman, ‘The newly
appointed Weinfuhrer for the Champagne region is my old friend
Otto Klaebisch. He has total control of everything. I saw him last
week, and we now have an excellent business understanding. More
Champagne, everyone?’
The evening improved from then on, and the Silver Pheasants all
went home very content after placing their orders for Champagne
with Erna.
As we approached Christmas, the war dragged on without really
affecting us, and London warned me that nothing much would
happen concerning Operation Thor’s Hammer until January at the
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Adam Bayne
earliest.
‘You English,’ said Helene, ‘must be the most inefficient
businessmen in the world. I have no idea how you built the biggest
Empire, let alone controlled it.’
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Café Gentz and the Silver Pheasants
Chapter 47 Ian Fleming and Dennis Wheatley. F-Day set.
The treasonous activity of Operation Thor’s Hammer started again
early in January 1941. I kept Helene in the loop with events in
London. I told her that Churchill had arranged a private dinner for
Montagu at the Cavendish Hotel in Jermyn Street, where he had met
some surprising guests, including Maxwell Knight, head of MI5. He
had brought two of his operatives, Ian Fleming and Dennis
Wheatley. MI5’s official astrologer Louis de Wohl was invited, and
he had brought along Aleister Crowley, the infamous magician
known as the Beast.
I could see Helene’s hackles rising when I spoke about magic and
astrology, but I said, ‘please wait, listen to what Montagu is
planning,’ which she did patiently.
Dennis Wheatley had prepared a consultative document
restructuring European national borders based on ethnicity and
population density. He had completed it, including a proposed map
of revised national boundaries. Copies were on the way via the
diplomatic pouch to the Swiss embassy in Berlin for Hitler and us to
review.
When I was last in contact with Montagu, he reminded me that the
title United States of Europe was not to be used because the
Americans were easily upset with any perceived threat of global
competition. It was to be referred to as the European Federation
(EF).
MI5, through Louis de Wohl, had commissioned Crowley to
perform a magick psychic ceremony in the megalithic hill fort at
Ashdown Forest in the evening of Wednesday the 15th of January. I
said it was nonsense, but Hess believed in it, and Montagu said he
agreed and understood. I told Helene we had decided not to disclose
anything about the Ashdown Forest ritual to Hess.
‘Good idea,’ she said, ‘it is complete rubbish anyway. I am surprised
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Adam Bayne
that senior intelligence officers have anything to do with it.’
When news came of the arrival of our copies of Dennis Wheatley’s
bound report entitled Map for the Reconstruction of Europe,
Maurice collected them. The book had a commentary plus a large
55cm by 43cm fold-out map. Hitler and Karl were both impressed,
saying that Wheatley understood the essence of Lebensraum. Hitler
said it would make a sound basis for the geographic organisation of
the European Federation.
Karl requested a meeting at Café Gentz for Sunday afternoon on 19th
January to discuss Wheatley’s proposal. Everyone was fascinated by
how well Wheatley had interpreted Karl’s philosophy of
Lebensraum, an essential concept in Hitler’s plan for the Third
Reich.
We could see that Hess was slightly agitated and wanted to say
something. I asked if there was any other business, which gave him
the introduction he wanted.
Hess stood up and paced around the table, ‘I have had a recurring
dream for four nights since Wednesday evening,’ he said, ‘I dream I
am flying at night over the sea at an incredibly low altitude, and my
Me110 crashes into a mountain. But last night, I slept dreamlessly.’
‘Oh my god,’ said Martha.
‘Do not get distressed,’ said Hess, ‘in my dream, I bail out and land
safely.’
‘When did you say these dreams started,’ I asked. ‘Wednesday,’ said
Hess. I looked at Helene, but we said nothing.
Karl and Hess spent the rest of the afternoon going over the details
of Wheatley’s map while Ilse, Martha and Helene discussed
preliminary arrangements for the Fuhrer’s next birthday party. I
tried to keep away from both subjects.
By six o’clock, Hess and Karl had sufficiently studied the Map for
the Reconstruction of Europe, and our guests went home. As soon as
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Café Gentz and the Silver Pheasants
they had gone, I asked Helene, ‘What do you think about those
dreams Hess is having?’ ‘Coincidence, nothing more,’ she said, ‘All
magic is baloney.’
But I went to bed wondering whether there could be something to
this magick stuff.
As March progressed, both London and Munich reported to
Montagu that everything was getting geared up for the big day. All
the players were briefed and ready to mobilise.
In the middle of March, Eva called a Silver Pheasant soiree to
discuss the Fuhrer’s birthday arrangements again.
When everyone arrived, Eva surprised us and said we should
postpone the birthday party because the Fuhrer had been quite ill for
the last few weeks. Dr Morell had recommended he rest while being
treated with a new combination of Morell’s special medications.
‘However,’ she said, ‘if they would excuse her from attending, there
is no reason why the Silver Pheasants could not gather at Café Gentz
on the Fuhrer’s birthday.’
So, on Sunday, 20th April, the Pheasants and their spouses arrived at
Café Gentz, but the atmosphere did not feel like a birthday party. It
was more like a business meeting. Everyone seemed so serious,
particularly Hess.
Hoffmann had done us proud with some Dom Perignon Champagne,
but even Helene could not get enthused for the party. She did not
feel like cooking and ordered Apfelstrudel and Krapfen from
Dallmayr’s.
Maurice said he was not surprised at Hitler’s absence, as he had
been irritable and looked weary of late. ‘Off the record,’ Maurice
said quietly, ‘I spoke to Baldur, and he said Hitler is losing the
confidence of some of his generals. They are talking behind his
back, saying he is dithering between insecurity and overconfidence,
but nobody dares to disagree.’
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‘The messrooms are full of rumours about when we will attack
Russia or if the invasion of England will ever happen. Baldur had
told Maurice that the troops were getting bored and restless, which
was dangerous for morale.
‘Baldur is at the grassroots level,’ said Maurice, ‘What he sees is
disturbing. A dictator must conduct war, and everyone must have
absolute confidence in him. I fear Hitler is losing control due to his
developing illness.’
‘I also wonder sometimes what Dr Morell puts into his injections
and so-called vitamin pills,’ I said, ‘but Hitler swears by them. He
will not accept any criticism or questioning of Dr Morell’s
treatments.’
Maurice agreed, ‘You are not the only one with concerns,’ he said.
We opened the Champagne, but devoid of the focus of an actual
birthday party, and without even a cake with candles, the party
fizzled out early. Hess purposefully stayed behind after everyone
else except the Haushofers had departed. He wanted to talk with us
in private about Thor’s Hammer.
It was evident that he was getting increasingly jittery as the
preparations progressed.
‘Look at this,’ he said as he took out a piece of crumpled paper from
his jacket pocket, ‘this is the hand-written horoscope that Ernst
Schulte-Strathaus gave me at Wewelsburg Castle last year. I had
forgotten about it and have just found it tucked into the back of my
diary.’
‘Yes, I remember that,’ I said, ‘Something about gibbous moons and
the auspices of Venus.’
Hess looked at me with a serious expression, ‘You may mock the
power of astrology, Adam, but I do not. The last sentence of this
horoscope says that the next suitable date for a successful journey
for peace is the 10th of May.’
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Café Gentz and the Silver Pheasants
Hess stood up and addressed us all, ‘This is not a request; this is a
demand. I will fly to Scotland in twenty days on Saturday, the 10th
of May 1941. I will inform the Fuhrer, and we must mobilise the
whole team to be ready.’
We sat at the table, almost stunned that Operation Thor’s Hammer
was about to happen. Karl broke the silence by saying, ‘Excellent,
everything is ready here in Germany. Adam, please advise London
and Scotland we have set the date. Hitler remains in direct contact
with the Bahamas and will advise the Duke. The die is cast. I can
only wish everyone success and safety,’ and he raised his glass to
toast, ‘to the success of Operation Thor’s Hammer and peace.’
I was in my bank office early Monday morning amid a flurry of
activity. Hjalmar confirmed that the RAF defences and RADAR in
Scotland were ready to be immobilised on that Saturday evening,
and Hess would not be intercepted as he entered British airspace.
Karl said that Hitler had contacted the Duke of Windsor, who had
also given the final go-ahead, and everything was now set. We
designated the 10th of May as F-Day for Flight Day.
We arranged our final meeting at Café Gentz for two p.m. on Friday
the 9th of May, the day before F-Day.
At Café Gentz on F-Day minus one, Rudolf Hess, Hitler’s deputy
and Germany’s Envoy for Peace, was no longer nervous but assured
and focused.
Hess confidently told us, ‘I have had my personal Messerschmitt Me
110 fitted with wing-mounted drop tanks that I can jettison them
over the North Sea. I know it by heart, every navigation point on the
five-and-a-half-hour journey from Augsberg. I have the peace
documents with me, and I have been over the flight plan repeatedly.
In my last meeting with the Fuhrer, he told me that the end of this
war would mark the beginning of an enduring friendship with
England.’
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Adam Bayne
Ilse seemed calm and composed as she addressed the small team
working together since last September towards this moment.
‘My friends,’ she said, ‘It has been eight months since we embarked
on this historic mission, and now we are ready to change the world’s
fate. Rudolf’s fight will bring peace and prosperity to the German
people and all the countries of Europe.’
Hess pulled out a sealed envelope from his jacket and handed it to
Karl. ‘This is my letter to the Fuhrer if, for any reason, my mission
fails. Karl, if the worst does happen, please deliver it. I have a copy
here, and I will read you the last paragraph.’
Hess read the last paragraph from the copy, and Karl took the sealed
envelope. ‘My Fuhrer, if this project fails, you must renounce all
responsibility and deny any knowledge of the peace plan. It would
be best if you said it was my initiative alone. You must declare that I
was out of my mind.’
On that sobering thought, we wished each other well and gave Hess
sincere hugs of affection.
We walked outside with them and stood by their cars. ‘Time for me
to go,’ said Hess as he closed the door for Ilse. We waved goodbye
to Rudolf and Ilse until they were out of sight.
‘All we can do now is wait and pray,’ said Karl, who never usually
made religious remarks.
Helene and I went back into Café Gentz, and I said, ‘I have a feeling
that this place will never be the same again. I would rather not be
here this evening. Take me to Osteria Bavaria for dinner, please.’
We closed the apartment and drove to the restaurant.
As we entered, we heard shouts from Erna and Heinrich Hoffmann,
who were already sitting at a table. ‘What a surprise, come and join
us.’ We sat down, and Erna said, ‘why are you two looking so glum
and serious? Cheer up. Heinrich has had a good week in the
Champagne business.’
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I turned to Hoffmann and asked, ‘My friend, do you believe in
destiny or magic?’ ‘All utter rubbish, you reap what you sow,
Adam, now try some of this exceptional vintage Champagne,’ and
he poured us each a glass. ‘Thank you, Hoffmann,’ I said. To which
he replied, ‘For what, Adam?’ I drank the excellent Champagne and
said, ‘For the wine of course.’
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Adam Bayne
Chapter 48 The Bird has Flown. Double-crossed by Churchill.
Escape from Café Gentz.
Meeting the Hoffmanns at Osteria Bavaria was the best thing that
could have happened to us that Friday evening. The fantastic Krug
1934 Champagne was exceptional. That and the sausage supper
distracted me from thinking about Hess flying away the next day.
When I placed my order with the waiter, Hoffmann looked across to
me and said, ‘Adam, sausages with this fine Champagne? I will
never get used to you Englishmen.’ I noticed even the waiter had a
slight look of disdain on his face when he returned and placed my
meal on the starched white tablecloth.
When Helene’s salmon with white truffle beurre blanc sauce
arrived, the waiter glanced at me. The look on his face said,
‘Madame has taste,’ but he was always smiling.
It was a great evening, and as we drove home, we never imagined it
would be so long before we would eat at Osteria Bavaria again.
We went to bed trying to relax and wondering what we would do all
the next day until seven o’clock in the evening. That was when Hess
was scheduled to take off from Augsberg.
As it happened, the Alfa Romeo had been coughing and spluttering
in the chilly May mornings, so I took it to the workshop and spent
all morning chatting with the mechanics. I met Helene at Dallmayr’s
for lunch, and we took our time.
We were back in our lounge at Café Gentz as the hands of the
cuckoo clock on the wall approached seven.
The click-clack of the doors opening brought us both back to reality.
Out popped the yellow-beaked wooden bird. ‘Cuckoo,’ it squawked
seven times as we watched transfixed.
‘Our job is finished. I wonder if future generations will thank us for
saving so many lives?’ I said.
‘It is not over yet,’ said Helene, always the practical one, ‘Shall we
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have an early night?’
The following evening Ilse phoned before eight. She was paranoid
about the Gestapo listening in on her phone and gave us the coded
message we had agreed she would provide us with when Hess had
gone, ‘Everything clear, Uncle Hans has gone on holiday,’ she said
and hung up.
Helene smiled and said, ‘Such a silly message for such an important
event,’ and I could only agree with a laugh.
I had arranged to have my office at the bank opened on Sunday
morning, hoping to send the same message but with a different tone.
Montagu Norman received this message on his teleprinter; THE
BIRD HAS FLOWN.
The direct line to London on my desk rang within minutes of
sending the teleprinted message. It was Montagu, and he only had to
say, ‘Good morning,’ for me to realise he was very agitated indeed.
‘Adam, listen carefully. Things have gone dreadfully wrong. The
King somehow learned about the plan to depose him, and Churchill
succumbed to blackmail. The old cigar-sucking beggar knew last
week that Operation Thor’s Hammer was doomed, but he let the
game go on, sacrificing us as pawns. They have detained Hess and
all the Scottish lords, plus some senior army generals, admirals, and
air vice marshals. Six well-known Members of Parliament are under
house arrest. Churchill has deserted us all to save his skin and
political career.’
‘I do not know if Hitler knows yet, but it will not be long. Regarding
what you have been telling me about Hitler’s state of mind, I insist
you and Helene get out of Germany immediately. Do not
underestimate his anger and rage at being double-crossed. Your
lives are in danger.’
I was silent for a moment, and Montagu repeated, ‘Adam, did you
hear me? Your lives are in danger. Come home now.’ I said one
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Adam Bayne
word, ‘Understood,’ and hung up the phone.
It took a few moments for me to absorb what I had heard, and then
after making sure there was nothing incriminating left at the bank
office, I told the manager to lock up. On the way home, I filled the
Red Dragon with petrol in case we needed it, but truthfully I did not
know what we were going to do.
As soon as I got home, I told Helene to sit down. ‘The worst has
happened,’ I said, ‘we have all been double-crossed by that
scheming devil Churchill. Hess has been arrested, and King George
is fuming.’
‘Nothing near as fuming as Hitler will be when he finds out,’ said
Helene, ‘What is our plan, Adam?’
‘Montagu said our lives are in danger. It could be a few days before
Hitler takes his revenge, so let us get our passports and lay low here
in Café Gentz. That is all we can do.’
It was a stressful evening and a sleepless night. The next morning
around ten, we were surprised to get a phone call from Eva. ‘Let me
speak to Helene urgently,’ she said, ‘Helene, I had to wait until
Adolf went into the office before I could phone. Goebbels phoned
earlier with a fantastic story that Hess has gone mad. He has
betrayed Germany and flown to England to make peace. Is it true,
Helene?’ ‘Yes, it is,’ was Helene’s simple reply.
‘ Goebbels went straight into the Fuhrer’s office and told him about
Hess. He told me Hitler did not rant and rave at first but almost
acted as if he expected it. Then suddenly, it was as if what Hess had
done suddenly sunk in. The Fuhrer’s eyes went darker, and he
ordered me to arrest everyone involved.’
Eva continued, ‘He has ordered Heydrich’s Gestapo to arrest Ilse
Hess and the Haushofers for questioning. Your close friendship with
Hess and the Haushofers will cast suspicion on you both.’
‘Thanks, Eva, but do not put yourself in danger for our sakes,
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please,’ said Helene.
We decided we could do nothing better than continue to lay low in
Café Gentz. At about two-thirty, Hjalmar phoned from Berlin.
‘Good afternoon Adam,’ he said, ‘say yes if you understand. Our
investment is lost. As your financial advisor, all I can advise you to
do now is get out. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, and Hjalmar hung up.
We were shocked when Magda and Emma arrived at Café Gentz
with Maurice an hour later.
‘What have you done, Helene and Adam?’ Magda asked in a very
distressed voice, ‘Hitler has ordered Josef to arrest you both for
treason. I begged him not to, but he said I must understand that he
cannot disobey a direct order from the Fuhrer. He said he hoped he
could delay the order until tomorrow mid-morning and allowed me
to come here to warn you.’
Magda said, ‘now listen carefully. We all love you. Helene and the
Silver Pheasants have flocked together to get you safely away. Eva
will tell Adolf she is sick tomorrow and make him wait at home
until Dr Morrel arrives for a house visit, which should keep him out
of the office in case any more unwelcome news comes in.’
Magda paused for a break, ‘Are you getting all this?’ she asked and
continued, ‘Maurice has arranged for Hoffmann to take the Red
Dragon and drive west as if he is heading for Switzerland. The car is
so recognisable that he will be stopped if there are roadblocks,
thinking it is you two. He will say he is going to make some
Champagne deals in France in a borrowed car. Dr Morell will tell
Joseph that I have a complication after Heidrun’s birth, and I need to
visit Dr Morell’s colleague, gynaecologist Dr Thomann-Kroller at
her Swiss clinic for a few days.’
‘You can see we are all apprehensive about you two,’ interrupted
Maurice, ‘With the raging mood I saw Hitler in, he could order the
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Adam Bayne
execution of anybody at any time.’
‘Do not worry, Helene,’ said Emma, ‘We will not let anything
happen to you.’
‘Nor me, I hope,’ I added pleadingly.
‘Of course, not Adam, that is automatic,’ said Magda, ‘Emma has
arranged for Hanna Reitsch to meet us at Augsberg airport
tomorrow in her Storch. We need to be at the airport at six o’clock
sharp tomorrow morning.’
We all sat down and took a breath. Helene looked a little shaken; I
had never seen her look like this. ‘Thank you, my friends,’ she said,
‘I shall never forget your devotion to our friendship.’
‘We are the Silver Pheasants,’ said Magda and Emma together, and I
saw a tear in the corner of Helene’s eye.
‘But we are not out of danger yet,’ said Maurice, ‘You cannot stay
here tonight. I have arranged for you to stay with a friend at
Egenhofen. He is on his way to pick you up at the Englischer
Garten. Maurice said he should be there in forty-five minutes,
looking at his watch, ‘Kempka will pick up the Alfa, and it will
disappear before tomorrow morning.’
‘Now,’ said Magda, ‘you have ten minutes to pack a small carry bag
each, and I mean small. You will see why tomorrow. We are parked
out of sight around the back and will wait for you there. Lock this
place up and make it look like you left in a hurry. Meet us outside in
the back in seven minutes.’
We rushed into the bedroom to get a bag of the basics.
I followed Helene out and locked the door. I had a last twinge of
emotion as I remembered all the beautiful soirees we hosted at Café
Gentz with all the great friends we had made. We got to the gardens
at the back, and Maurice signalled for us to get into his Mercedes.
‘Lay down on the back seat,’ he said, ‘It is better if you are not
seen.’
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We could not believe what was coming down the street as we drove
around the corner. It was Reinhard Heydrich in a Gestapo staff car
with an armed motorcycle-sidecar unit.
‘Keep down,’ said Maurice, ‘They have stopped outside Café Gentz,
and they are going in.’
‘My god,’ exclaimed Magda, ‘Heydrich must have gotten the order
for your arrest this afternoon. Now we must get you out of Munich.’
We arrived at the Englischer Garten and pulled into a small parking
area. With perfect timing, an old Citroen pulled up across the road,
and Maurice signalled the driver to come over. A well-dressed older
man in his seventies wearing a military uniform got out. It was
Maurice’s father-in-law, Hedwig’s dad, who we’d met at their
wedding. Maurice saluted him, and he saluted back with a crisp
click of his heels.
‘Colonel Ploetz,’ said Maurice, ‘Adam and Helene. As I told you,
they are having a spot of bother with the Gestapo.’
The Colonel went over to Helene and formally kissed her hand. She
smiled beautifully. He then gave me the heel-clicking salute, ‘My
pleasure Madam and Sir,’ he said, ‘Those arrogant Gestapo thugs
are a disgrace to the German uniform. Anyone who has a problem
with them has their problem shared with me.’
Maurice signalled for us to get into the battered old Citroen and said,
‘. He will get you to Augsberg airport before six o’clock tomorrow
morning and accommodate you tonight.’
Maurice came over and quite emotionally gave us both a hug. ‘Until
we meet again,’ he said as he waved goodbye.
Soon we were rattling along the road to Egenhofen, which was
halfway from Munich to Augsburg. The Colonel said he lived in a
modest house next to the parish church of Saint Leodegar in the
centre of the village and that his wife was preparing dinner for us.
‘Nobody will even know you are there,’ he said, ‘Which is probably
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Adam Bayne
the way you want it,’ and he chuckled to himself.
Before we knew it, the forty kilometres had passed, and we pulled
up outside the Colonel’s medieval house. Frau Ploetz greeted us,
saying Hedwig had mentioned us to her many times. She welcomed
us into a small but cosy bedroom at the back of the house, behind
the kitchen.
‘Dinner will be ready in five minutes,’ Frau Ploetz said as she shut
the door.
‘My god,’ said Helene as she sat on the bed. I have never been as
scared as when I saw that Gestapo staff car. We made it by minutes.’
‘I do not even want to think about it,’ I said, ‘Wait until I get back to
London. That selfish mercenary Churchill has a lot to answer for. If
he had warned us when he knew this was going to happen, we could
have been out of harm’s way before Hess was arrested in Scotland.’
Helene said, ‘That is for later, Adam. Right now, let us eat and rest.
Tomorrow will be another dangerous day.’
We sat down at the giant oak kitchen table, and Frau Ploetz served
us Weisswurst with dumplings, and we both tucked in. We realised
we had been too distracted and stressed to eat since last night with
the Hoffmanns.
I complimented Frau Ploetz on the sausages. She said they were
homemade using her grandmother’s recipe. As I bit into another
delicious sausage, I wondered how much of the old German and
Bavarian culture would be destroyed in the coming war. I shuddered
at the thought.
‘Now then,’ said Frau Ploetz, ‘time for bed. Rudolf says you two
have a busy day tomorrow and must be up by four o’clock.’
We cuddled up in the ancient oak bed. ‘I love you, Helene,’ I said as
we drifted into the restless troubled sleep that only mental
exhaustion brings, ‘Whatever tomorrow brings, never forget that.’
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Chapter 49 A lucky escape and flight from Augsberg. Safe in
Switzerland.
On Monday 12th of May, Munich radio announced that the traitor
Hess had defected to the enemy. Meanwhile, he was under
interrogation in London.
We were in the servants' quarters of a medieval cottage in
Egenhofen and were awoken before four o’clock by a cockerel
crowing. ‘It has been a long time since I heard that,’ said Helene.
Frau Ploetz was already making coffee and fussing around to ensure
we would not be late. She gave Helene a bag of pretzels as we went
outside to the waiting Citroen.
‘It was a pleasure to meet you, Frau Ploetz,’ we said, ‘Thank you for
your hospitality and the most delicious Weisswurst.’
We climbed into Colonel Ploetz’s car and headed off to the airport.
We were amazed that there was no security at the airport. Maybe it
was because we drove through the private gates directly into the
flying club hangar, as Maurice had told his father-in-law to do. The
mechanics were expecting us, and the doors of hangar number three
opened. Inside we saw Magda and Hanna Reitsch signalling for us
to come in.
We introduced the Colonel, and he said he should get out of our
way. We gave him our most sincere thanks and asked him to pass on
our regards to his wife and daughter.
Everything was happening so fast. I turned to Hanna and asked,
‘When did you arrive, Hanna? Thank you so much for rescuing us,’
I said.
Hanna replied, ‘I arrived late last night, but it is not me who is
taking you to Switzerland. This little plane is only a three-seater.
Magda will be your pilot.’
Magda was behind us and said, ‘We will be in Switzerland within
the hour. This little beauty is Hanna’s prototype Storch. She flies so
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low, so fast and is so manoeuvrable that nothing will be able to find
us, let alone stop us. I could, if need be, drop you off at Dubendorf
airbase outside Zurich, turn around and come straight back. She
carries enough fuel for a five-hundred-kilometre round trip,’ said
Captain Magda.
‘What about you, Hanna?’ Helene said, ‘Will you be stuck here?’
‘Do not worry about me. There are plenty of pilots willing to give a
young lady a lift, even in wartime,’ she said with a laugh.
Magda signalled for us to climb aboard. Hanna said the Storch was
fully fuelled, checked, and ready to go. She slid the hangar doors
open wide.
We climbed in behind Magda, and she started the engine
immediately. We waved to Hanna as Magda taxied onto the deserted
runway, and the Storch took off before we even realised it.
‘Wow, that was a quick lift-off,’ I shouted above the engine's roar.
I looked over Magda’s shoulder and saw that we were already
travelling at 150 kph and accelerating.
I cannot say it was a comfortable ride. We flew so low that Magda
constantly pulled up over church steeples and hills. Luckily, the
weather was fine and even luckier for the local wildlife; we did not
see any foxes. The engine noise prohibited any serious conversation
except, ‘Are you ok back there?’ shouted Magda now and again. We
gave thumbs-up signs in reply. Magda shouted that we were
approaching the Swiss border and signalled to look up. There were
three Me110s high above us. I was relieved to see them turn back at
the border.
Soon we could see Dubendorf airbase in the distance. Magda was
talking on the radio with what I assumed was Swiss air-traffic
control. Suddenly the little Storch was on the ground and coming to
a halt on the edge of the main runway. Two large cars and a truck
drove out from the group of buildings on the other side of the
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runway, and they pulled up alongside us. We climbed out, glad to
stretch our legs.
Three men, obviously mechanics, jumped out of the truck, and
Magda handed over the Storch to their care. The chauffeur of the big
black car with the American flag opened the passenger door, and out
stepped a well-dressed executive. ‘Miss Helen Niemeyer?’ he called
across, and Helene acknowledged him. ‘Welcome to Switzerland,
we have been expecting you,’ he said, ‘I am the American
Ambassador to Switzerland, Leland B. Harrison.’ He gestured for
Helene to enter his Cadillac.
The driver of the Bentley got out and hailed me, ‘You must be
Adam Bayne, sir,’ he shouted, ‘Ambassador Kelly sends his
apologies for not being able to meet you personally.’ The three of us
stood there in utter relief. We both hugged Magda and thanked her.
She reminded us of the personal vow she had made back in 1938.
She said she would never forget us after we sorted out her marriage
problems. Helene and Magda hugged again.
The drivers explained that Helene and I had to travel in separate cars
for processing and would deliver us to our hotel later.
I was saying my final farewells to Magda when I saw an ambulance
approaching the runway. ‘That will be for me,’ she said, ‘Dr Morell
arranged it. Goodbye, my friends.’ Magda turned and got into the
ambulance without looking back. The ambulance drove off to Dr
Jenny Thomann-Kroller’s private clinic for her supposed check-up.
The Storch was towed into a hanger by the mechanics.
Helene was driven to the American Embassy in downtown Zurich,
and John, my driver, took me to the British Consulate to get a visa.
Within ten minutes, there was no sign that anyone had landed in
Switzerland that morning.
Magda had made reservations for us at the Dolder Grand Hotel. We
were still in a state of shock when a message came under the door. I
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was an invitation from David Kelly, the British Ambassador, for
dinner that evening at the hotel’s famous Rotonde restaurant.
After a bath, a change of clothes and a couple of drinks at the bar,
Helene and I felt better. As we sat at the bar, a man in heavy tweeds
came in looking around. ‘David Kelly?’ I asked. ‘Yes, old boy, I do
apologise for not meeting you at the airport, but I was unavoidably
delayed. However, I hope I can make up for it tonight. My old
school chum Montagu Norman told me I had to look after you two
on pain of death, ha-ha.’
‘On pain of death,’ I said quietly to Helene, ‘A very apt description
of the last three days.’
‘What was that?’ asked David rhetorically, ‘Never mind. Now tell
me what this is all about. They never keep us up to date out here in
the sticks. It must be important because my instructions to get you
back to Blighty came directly from Winston himself.’
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Epilogue. Berlin April 1945.
In the last days of April 1945, Soviet troops were just a few hundred
meters away from Hitler’s underground bunker in Berlin. It became
evident to everyone in the bunker that Hitler’s dream of a thousand-
year Third Reich was not going to be. In May 1945, Germany
surrendered, and the terrible Second World War was finally over.
Hanna Reitsch, the Nazi test pilot who helped to save Adam and
Helene, was one of the last pilots to fly out of Berlin on Saturday,
the 28th of April. She took off from the makeshift grass runway at
Tiergarten in a two-seater Arado Ar-96. She later reported seeing a
Ju-52 parked at Tiergarten with a pilot in attendance, which she
assumed to be waiting for Bormann and his cronies. But neither
Bormann nor the Junkers were ever seen again.
On that same Saturday evening, Magda Goebbels, and Hitler’s ever-
loyal secretary Christa Schroeder, helped Eva Braun prepare for her
wedding day. They even managed to find a hairdresser in bomb-
ravaged Berlin, and he was brought into the bunker under SS guard.
Eva donned a sequinned black dress and the diamond-encrusted rose
gold Lange wristwatch, her most cherished gift from her Fuhrer.
As the artillery shells burst on the impenetrable concrete roof above
the bunker, Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun were married in a sad and
solemn ceremony. Joseph and Magda Goebbels, Christa Schroeder,
Martin Bormann, Dr Morell, and the remaining staff who had not
fled from the advancing terror of the Soviet troops attended.
The following day Mr and Mrs Hitler got up late and had a light
lunch of liver sausage and toast.
Eva Anna Paula Hitler and her husband Adolf then said goodbye to
the loyal staff in the bunker. He opened the door to his study and
ushered his new bride inside.
As he entered, he stopped and took out his gold Lange pocket watch.
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Adam Bayne
It was two-thirty-two. He opened the case and looked at the
engraving. He saw the silver pheasant and his face relaxed and lit up
for a moment. His hand stopped trembling, and he was back in
Munich at the Osteria Bavaria, blowing out the candles on his
birthday cake. As he closed the door, he turned around and said
quietly, ‘Goodbye, my Silver Pheasants.’
Sometime later, a single shot was heard from inside the room. Heinz
Linge, Hitler’s private valet, entered and found the Fuhrer's bodies
and his wife's bodies. After less than forty-eight hours of marriage,
they had both committed suicide, he by pistol, she by poison. Erich
Kempka and Emil Maurice carried the bodies up to the Bunker
garden, put them in shallow graves and cremated them with eight
jerrycans of petrol.
For Magda Goebbels, the world had collapsed. Her whole life
seemed to have been an inconceivable and total waste. She had
shown signs of severe psychopathic behaviour before, but now she
did the unthinkable. Under duress, Dr Morell gave her six glass
cyanide ampules. Magda, the loving mother, entered the bedroom
where her and Joseph’s six children were fast asleep. She crushed
one ampule into the mouth of each of them
Helga Suzanne was twelve, Hildegard Traudel eleven, Helmut
Christian ten. Holdine Katharin eight, Hedwig Johanna seven, and
little Heidrun Elisabeth only five years old. They all died without
waking up.
Magda and Joseph Goebbels then went up into the garden and stood
next to the cremated bodies of their Fuhrer and his wife.
Magda and Joseph embraced, and each put their pistol to the other’s
temple. As agreed, Magda whispered into her husband’s ear, ‘One,
Two, Three.’ A pair of gunshots rang out simultaneously. Six dead,
and no family to mourn them.
Kempka and Maurice placed the bodies in a shallow pit and burned
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them next to their dead idols. We shall probably never be able to
understand the mind of a psychopath like Magda Goebbels. She
could show such devotion to a cause that she could see no way for
her or her family to live in a world without the dream of the Nazi
Third Reich under the leadership of her beloved Fuhrer.
For both Magda Goebbels and Eva Hitler, death was the only way
for them to be with their beloved Fuhrer. As they burn in hell, at
least they are together for all eternity.
After the war, I met Putzi in New York and reminisced about old
times. ‘I recall one time before the Putsch,’ he said, ‘Hitler and I
would have long philosophical discussions about life and politics.
One time, Adolf told me there are two ways of judging a man’s
character. The first is by the woman he marries, and the second is by
how he dies.’
On 14th June 1985, the Schengen Agreement was signed in
Luxembourg. It created a united Europe with no national boundaries
giving Germany all the Lebensraum it wanted. As the Schengen
Agreement was being signed, some say they saw the ghosts of Mr
and Mrs Adolf Hitler arm-in-arm and smiling in the corner of the
conference hall.
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Postscript.
The Silver Pheasants.
Helene Hanfstaengl nee Niemeyer married Adam Bayne in 1946.
They lived between their houses in London, New York, and
Tunbridge Wells. Helene passed away in 1973, aged eighty, and
Adam in 1984, aged eighty-seven.
Margarete Himmler died in 1967, aged seventy-four.
Heinrich Himmler was arrested by the British Army attempting to
escape from Germany in May 1945. He committed suicide while
under arrest on 23rd May 1945.
Emma Goering died in 1973, aged eighty. Herman Goering was
sentenced to death at the Nuremberg trials in 1945 but committed
suicide the night before he could be hanged.
Erna Hoffmann died in 1988, aged ninety-five.
Heinrich Hoffmann was charged at the Nuremberg trials with war
profiteering through his art dealership. He was sentenced to four
years in prison. On his release, he had a successful career as an art
dealer, and the memoirs of his time as Hitler’s Photographer were
published and became very popular. He died in 1957.
Henny von Schirach nee Hoffman died in 1992 aged seventy-nine.
Baldur von Schirach was sentenced to twenty years at the
Nuremberg trials. He served the entire sentence and was released in
1966. Henny divorced him while in prison. He died in 1974, aged
sixty-seven
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Ilse Hess died in 1995, aged ninety-five. Rudolf Hess was sentenced
to life in prison. He was found hanged in his cell in Spandau in
1987. At the time, there were petitions for his release. Conspiracy
theorists say British Intelligence agents murdered him to ensure his
silence.
Gerda Bormann died of cancer in 1946, aged only thirty-seven.
Martin Bormann disappeared from the bunker in 1945. Conspiracy
theories say that he was treated by Dr Mengele in Paraguay and died
of stomach cancer in 1950. There are also reports that he died in
Argentina at a ripe old age.
Hedwig Maurice, the last surviving Silver Pheasant, passed away in
2002, aged ninety-two years. Emil Maurice was charged with war
crimes at the Nuremberg trials and sentenced to four years. He died
in 1972, aged seventy-five.
Winifred Wagner was arrested in 1947 and sentenced to fifteen
months imprisonment. She had half her property confiscated and
died in 1980, aged one hundred and one.
Helene B (Bechstein) was arrested by the Americans and sentenced
to sixty days of hard labour. Her shares in the piano company were
confiscated along with thirty per cent of her assets. She died in
1951, aged seventy-five.
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Other Players
Christa Schroeder was arrested in 1945 and, after three years in
detention, released without charge in 1948. Christa never gave any
interviews, always maintaining her position as a private secretary.
She died in 1984, aged seventy-six.
Hanna Reitsch was arrested and released without charges after
nearly two years of imprisonment. She became a famous glider pilot
and worked for Kwame Nkrumah, the President of Ghana. She died
in 1979, aged sixty-seven.
Albrecht Haushofer was arrested and sent to Dachau, where the
Gestapo shot him in April 1945, causing his parents, Martha and
Karl Haushofer, to commit suicide at their lakeside estate on 10th
March 1946.
Erich Kempka never married. He was arrested with Maurice as
they escaped from the bunker in 1945. Kempka was released
without charge in 1947. He died in 1975, aged sixty-five.
Reinhard Heydrich was assassinated in Prague on 27th May 1942
by Czech agents trained by the SOE in England.
Heinrich (Gestapo) Mueller was last seen in the Berlin bunker on
1st April 1945 and has never been seen again. Rumours say that he
flew out with Hanna Reitsch in the Junkers from the Tiergarten.
Joachim von Ribbentrop was sentenced to death at the Nuremberg
trials. He was hanged in 1946, aged fifty-three. His wife Annelies
died in 1973, aged seventy-seven.
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The Financiers and the Banks.
Putzi Hanfstaengl died in New York in 1975, aged eighty-eight.
His son Egon became a successful art publisher and passed away in
2007.
Fritz Thyssen was declared a ‘lesser offender’ by the denazification
tribunal in 1948 and sentenced to have fifteen per cent of his assets
confiscated. He emigrated to Argentina in 1950 and died the
following year. The Thyssen group of companies is now one of the
largest in Europe.
The Gestapo arrested Hjalmar Schacht in 1944 after the
unsuccessful Valkyrie bomb assassination attempt on Hitler’s life.
He was sent to the Dachau concentration camp, where he survived
to be liberated by the US Army in 1945. The Americans then
arrested Hjalmar, along with four fellow directors of the German
branch of the Bank for International Settlements (BIS). They were
tried for war crimes at Nuremberg. In a newspaper interview before
the trial, Hjalmar said, ‘I am not worried. They do not hang
bankers.’ He was right. They were all acquitted. Hjalmar died in
1970, aged ninety-three.
Montagu Norman was honoured by King George VI and made a
Lord Baron. He died in 1950, aged seventy-nine. Baroness Priscilla
Norman died in 1991, aged ninety-two.
Hitler awarded Henry Ford the Grand Cross of the German Eagle
for services to the Nazi party. The Ford production plant in Cologne,
Germany, continued production throughout the war without
suffering any bomb damage.
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Winston Churchill was hailed as the saviour of England and the
Empire. His failure to achieve peace in 1941 resulted in the deaths
of eighty-five million people and the destruction of Europe. He was
knighted in 1953 and received a state funeral in 1965.
The Bank for International Settlements (BIS) remains a secretive
and highly profitable financial institution based in Basel,
Switzerland, with a primary office in London. On 28th April 2021, a
British law was passed giving the BIS exemption from taxes, rates,
import/export duties and income tax for directors and staff.
JP Morgan, Chase Manhattan, and Morgan Guaranty survived to
become JPMorgan Chase bank. Creditanstalt bank Austria survived
to become part of UniCredit Allianz, and of course, the US Federal
Reserve bank and the Bank of England remain unchanged.
In 1994 a group of ex-BIS managers established the European
Monetary Institute, which became the European Central Bank
(ECB) in 1998.
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About the Author
Adam Bayne was born in Berlin, Germany in 1897, where his
mother was the personal secretary to Sir Frank Cavendish Lascelles,
British Ambassador to Germany. From the age of five until he was
eleven, he went to school in Munich, and spoke perfect German with
a Bavarian accent. In 1909 the family moved back to England, and
Adam attended Westminster School, then he studied German
Literature at Trinity College, Cambridge University.
While at Cambridge he was recruited by Lieutenant-Colonel Sir
Claude Edward Marjoribanks Dansey (Uncle Claude) into the
MI1[c] section of the Secret Service Bureau, which specialised in
covert overseas operations. The Bureau later became MI6, and
Uncle Claude arranged for Adam to attend Munich University in
1919, assigned to study under Professor Karl Haushofer.
Adam spent twenty-two years undercover in Germany, and narrowly
escaped execution after becoming subject to Hitler’s rage after the
Hess flight fiasco.
Adam married his long-time partner Helene Hanfstaengl in 1946 and
completed various MI6 assignments until his retirement to New
York in 1965. Helen passed away in 1973, and Adam moved into
his parent’s home in Tunbridge Wells where he died peacefully at
the age of eighty-seven in 1984.
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