Chapter 41

GLEN MILLER

On December 15 1944, a small single engine Norseman took off from an RAF airfield near London. On board was the American bandleader Glenn Miller who was flying to Paris for a series of concerts.

The Norseman disappeared without trace.

It has been speculated that the Norseman strayed into an area of the English Channel where Lancaster bombers, returning from a failed mission, jettisoned their bombs. The bombs needed to be jettisoned, as the Lancaster was a hard plane to land with a bomb load. Many years later, some eyewitnesses in the Lancaster squadron have claimed to see a small plane crash into the sea beneath them.

Glenn Miller's last concert was at the London Queensbury All Services Club in Soho, London on December 12 1944.

HERMAN GOERING

Goering, who was second only to Hitler, protested at the Nuremberg trials, that he was not personally anti-semitic. But he looted Jewish property ruthlessly. After Kristallnacht during which citizens, SS and the SA ransacked Jewish homes and shops, he welcomed the killing of Jews but complained about unnecessary damage to their property. He was ruthless, accumulating Jewish property and possessions; he became a wealthy man by the end of the war. His wealth was of no use when he appeared before the Nuremberg trials. On the night before he was to be executed he committed suicide.

Goering was the highest figure in the Nazi hierarchy to issue written orders for the "final solution of the Jewish Question"; he issued a memo to Heydrich to organize the practical details. This resulted in the Wannsee Conference when Goering wrote, "You are to submit to me, as soon as possible, a general plan of the administrative material and financial measures necessary for carrying out the desired final solution of the Jewish question."

It is almost certain however that Hitler issued a verbal order to Goering to this effect in late 1941.

Goering's incompetence led to a decline in the strength of Germany's Luftwaffe. Fifty percent of the pilots sent out on bombing missions towards the end of the war died because of the unrealistic demands made on them.

Wednesday March 22nd 1944. Zurich, Switzerland.

Jorge rented a small office close to his ruined factory. He was anticipating working closely with the government where their representatives would be calling for regular site inspections. Jorge hoped that having a temporary office nearby would free more of his and Richard's traveling times. Sparsely furnished, the office was also equipped with two drawing boards to be used for planning their new building.

"I have some serious things I need to discuss and some recommendations for you, Jorge. It will take me quite a few hours, perhaps a day or two, to outline what I have in mind..." Richard said.

"Excellent! But let's start this afternoon because I have two women coming here this morning who are applying for clerical and secretarial duties. I rejected the women referred to us by the government because I don't want their insiders passing our confidential information back to government heads of department. My secretary, Marlene will be here mid-morning. You can have the pick of the other two for your secretary," Jorge laughed.

"Thanks boss!" Richard said with sarcasm.

With a serious expression Jorge said, "Listen to me Richard! In what will be our new operation, you and I are equals! I won't say this again so please regard me as someone like your partner."

"Yes boss," Richard said now smiling.

Jorge looked away trying hard not to smile also, "We'll get these women organized first, their duties will be to organize the offices and then buy some lunch. We'll get started right after lunch."

Richard retired to his small office where he had copious notes of his suggestions for Jorge. He was interrupted when Jorge led Marlene and two slightly nervous young women into his room.

"Herr Dannecker, I wish to introduce Ingrid and Richelle. I want you to interview them separately and select one of them for your secretarial duties the remaining lady will assume duties as our office manager. Then ladies I want you all to organize some lunch. You'll also have to buy cutlery, plates, cups and a coffee brewer as well as food for lunch. Here's some money that you'll need for the purchases. Make sure you keep the receipts." Jorge said as he left the office with the ladies.

Soon after, Richard interviewed both women but he was particularly taken with Ingrid who was the more mature of them and she reminded him of Erica; he couldn't resist appointing her as his secretary. However, he thought that Richelle would make a good office manager; she was direct, her slightly stern face warned that she would take no nonsense from anybody.

Afterwards he went back to his notes until Ingrid knocked on his door, "Herr Dannecker lunch is ready."

"Ingrid please call me Richard, my last name is a mouthful."

Ingrid left Richard's office very confused. What Richard had asked her to do was not socially acceptable, 'My training has provided me with a set of rules and calling my boss by his first name was not one of them!' she thought indignantly.

After lunch Richard joined Jorge in his office.

"Let me get Marlene in here so she can takes notes for us," Jorge said.

"Much of what I want to tell you should not be minuted," Richard said.

"Okay let's get started then," Jorge said.

"I've tried to prepare a summary; an overview if you like, so that if you see the benefits of what I propose then we can branch and explore the possibilities. You made a very insightful comment after I told you about the imminent destruction of your factory. You said and I quote, 'Their, meaning your employees, engineering expertise will outlast this war. If I'm to recover after the war I will need their skills'. That comment stuck in my mind because you correctly identified your future..." Richard said.

"I firmly believe that," Jorge interrupted.

"When the war ends there will be no requirements for munitions manufacture. Your employees have engineering expertise that just happens to be applied to munitions. No further munitions orders will be forthcoming at the end of the war, so now what happens to your employees?" Richard asked.

Jorge sat forward in his chair suddenly excited by the track that Richard was on.

"Hmm. I follow precisely what you're saying. Please continue," Jorge said.

"Well this is the sticking point. The Swiss government has already started with payroll assistance. Soon they will be demanding building plans for the construction of the new building. The government's motivation is to have you swiftly back in munitions manufacture coping with a backlog of munitions orders. This contradiction with your future after the war ends is obvious, isn't it?" Richard asked.

"Brilliant Richard! An excellent summing up and I can see what your next question will be 'What are we going to do about it?' Correct?" Jorge said now more than happy to have Richard on his side.

"Correct! What are we going to do about it?" Richard asked. "Let's start with the foreground picture: the government and its need for your speedy recovery. Our best approach is to present ourselves as being as eager as the government's people, yet behind the scenes we will be applying the brakes; slipping deadlines, finding errors and so on. Distilling what I've been told by the Special Operations Executive together with news about the progress of the war, I'm willing to bet that Hitler will surrender by the middle of 1945," Richard said.

"Yes there's a danger here too. If we quickly become operational supplying further munitions to Germany then what's to stop the Allies wiping us out again?" Jorge asked.

"Precisely. This worries me," Richard said.

"If your guess is correct and the war ends mid-1945 we will certainly need to be well prepared for a change of direction for our company," Jorge said.

"Give me some background, tell me about Langer Engineering's history prior to the war? I'd like to know how the company evolved," Richard said.

"Let me tell you a quick history: I inherited the company from my father who started in a small shed in 1910 making wooden spoke wheels for the old Italian and German cars of the time. His first order came from a friend who worked for Alfa Romeo in Italy. The order swamped his capacity to produce but he took a gamble by enlarging his small shed into a factory on the same site as we now occupy. This move put him heavily in debt but later Mercedes and Porsche used him as their main supplier eventually making him one of the most successful Swiss companies. As the years went by he kept up with the advances in technology branching into engine components such as ignition systems and carburetors. This is how we came to be a supplier of the detonator systems that were invented by the German's," Jorge said.

"Is the manufacturing machinery used in the making of detonators different..."

Jorge interrupted, "No except for a few small machines that we had to custom build, the rest can be applied to any general engineering applications," Jorge said.

"That's good news! We can let the government supply replacement equipment and slip the timing with the government while we make the small specialized detonator machines," Richard said.

"You're devious Richard, thank God you're on my side," Jorge said.

Amsterdam Holland. Sunday April 2nd 1944.

Many people were in the countryside foraging for food, their hunger driving them to take risks to get food without care for their own safety. Many in the population were starting to die from starvation and those searching for food in the countryside looked weak and emaciated.

It was mid afternoon and Marius was pleased that he and Wim Hoogendyk were able to trade with ease; they had become friends. Today, Wim had given him a more then adequate swap of vegetables for flour.

Looking along the dirt road, Marius was surprised to see many people still heading away from the city on their trek for food, when suddenly out of the low gray sky two German Stuka's dived on the road, their forward cannons directed at the people walking or riding their bicycles. The sirens mounted on the landing gear of the Stuka's causing shock to the people on the ground who started running to the edge of the road but in the flat countryside there was no shelter there. The gunner in the Stuka's rear Perspex bubble took aim at those people still on their feet as they pulled up from their dive.

Marius could see a Stuka diving towards him; the front mounted cannons felled two people a hundred meters ahead of him. The rear gunner with his leather helmet and goggles was taking aim in his direction; swiftly he pulled down on his horse's right rein as the cannon released its rain of death. The screams of wounded people and the deep impact of the Stuka's loud engines, the sirens and the smell of burnt fuel, would remain in Marius's mind forever. In panic, he half fell off the tray of the wagon into the ditch running alongside the road. In his peripheral vision he saw Kees hit and thrown backwards onto the tray of the wagon, the rump of his horse started spurting blood.

Landing awkwardly in the ditch he clung to the reins of the horse as it reared high from the pain in its rump. Crouching low and easing along the wagon shafts he pulled the horse's head down, talking quietly, he calmed it down. With the sounds of the Stuka's sirens diminishing, Marius set the wagon brake then moved swiftly to where Kees lay groaning, clutching at his left arm.

"Don't waste time on me, get the horse and wagon under that tree over there before the planes return," Kees yelled, "The stinking bastards, firing on us! We're civilians!"

Marius led the horse but it whinnied in pain until they reached the tree.

Marius went to Kees, "Help me get your coat off, I want to see how badly you're wounded."

Marius pulled Kees upright and dragged him to the edge of the wagon, slowly edging Kees's legs over the side. He then worked swiftly exposing the wound. A flap of skin hung down his left arm showing the underlying muscle and a small amount of white bone. Blood was steadily pouring from the wound but he noted with relief that it was not pulsing arterial blood.

"It hurts like hell, Marius," Kees complained.

"Have you got a clean handkerchief with you?" Marius asked.

Using his right hand, Kees fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled rag.

'Well if that's all we have... ' Marius thought as he pulled the flap of skin into place and then firmly tied the rag across it. Blood welled into the rag and Marius watched for a few minutes waiting for the flow of blood to ease.

Turning his attention to his horse he saw that it had a deep flesh wound but the blood flow had now considerably reduced. He patted his horse as he eased a nosebag of chaff into place around the horse's mouth.

"There you are old fellow, have light meal to take your mind off your pain," Marius said as he returned to Kees.

"The German's haven't returned and I've decided that it's too far to make it home so we're going back to Wim's place where we can get help," Marius said, "I'm going to walk to take some of the load off the horse, I want you holding the reins with your good hand in case he acts up."

'Giving Kees something to occupy his mind might divert him from his pain, ' Marius thought.

Looking up and down the road Marius saw people huddled around the injured assisting the best way they knew how. The dead lay abandoned where they had fallen.

Two hours later they were in Wim's house telling him of the German's atrocious act of firing on civilians.

"Let's get your horse out of the harness and into the barn. Then we'll attend to Kees," Wim said.

In the kitchen of the farmhouse, Marius was fascinated at the tenderness that Wim showed Kees as he peeled his upper garments off. Wim inspected the wound and then took his wife Mina aside, "Get the jenever and your sewing kit, I'll have to stitch him up. Soak a length of your strongest threads in the jenever and give me some jenever soaked rag to swab the wound." Jenever is a favorite gin based drink of the Dutch, perhaps as common as beer at most social occasions.

Mina's face had whitened but she quickly moved away to do as her husband had ordered.

"Do you like jenever Kees?" Wim asked.

"Ya, I like it."

Mina returned with her sewing kit and a bottle of jenever and placed them on the table.

"Get us some glasses, Mina." Wim ordered.

Wim poured a glass for everyone as Mina prepared the rag and thread and then she placed it all in a shallow bowl of jenever. She pulled out some of her larger sharp needles and also placed them in the bowl.

Wim forced Kees to drink and by the time Kees had consumed four good-sized jenevers Wim decide it was time to start. He lifted Kees onto the table, pulled his shoes off and laid him flat. Retrieving a wooden peg from Mina's bag Wim said, "This might hurt a bit so I want you to bite down on this peg when the pain hits you," He placed the peg in Kees's right hand then he moved across the room to Marius.

"I want you to be prepared to hold him down when the pain is at its worst. I don't want to rip the stitches out of his flesh if he thrashes around," Wim said.

Twenty minutes later Wim was finished and asked Mina to get cloth that he could tear into bandages. He wrapped the wound then poured himself a large jenever.

Marius assisted Kees from the table and sat him in a chair.

"Let's see to your horse, Marius," Wim said finishing his drink and rising from his chair.

In the barn Marius moved the horse into a now disused stall. He tied both of the horse's rear legs to either side of the stall fence, and then he moved until he was able to examine the wound closely. Wim was close behind also looking closely at the injury to the horse.

Moving back from the horse Wim turned to Marius, "The wound isn't serious but I'll have to stitch it."

"I'll get what you need from Mina," Marius said.

Later, Marius did all he could to keep his horse quiet as Wim worked quickly stitching the horse's wound.

Back in the farmhouse Marius saw that Kees was showing signs of shock he was white faced and sweating. When Wim saw this he beckoned Mina.

"Kees needs to rest, can you make up a bed under the table?"

Kees tried to argue but soon after he was assisted to get under the table onto the soft bed. He quickly went to sleep and Mina's activity of serving the evening meal did not awaken him.

The next morning Marius climbed out from under the table where he had spent the night alongside Kees. He watched Kees closely as he pulled himself upright, leaning heavily on a chair for support.

"How are you feeling Kees?" Marius asked.

"My arm, the pain is dreadful," Kees grunted.

Hearing this Mina left the room and returned quickly with a square of cloth, which she folded into a sling. Sitting opposite Kees she pinned it into position.

"You'll feel better after you've eaten Kees," Mina said. Then she hurried away to prepare breakfast.

Marius left the farmhouse and headed for the barn eager to see how his horse was faring. He had left the horse in the stall with feed within easy reach. He was surprised that the horse was eating and as he approached, the horse quietly looked around and acknowledged Marius's presence. Marius felt softly around the site of the wound on the horse's rump and was relieved that there was no heat indicating a possible infection.

After breakfast Marius harnessed the horse to the wagon and led it into the yard where it stood quietly and apparently without discomfort. He helped Kees climb aboard and get settled then he walked to Wim and Mina, "You have two choices Wim, take this money I'm offering you for all of the trouble we've caused you and Mina. Or I'll bring double the weight of flour next week."

"We don't want your money. I'm sure that you would have helped me if I was in trouble," Wim said and Mina nodded in agreement.

"I'll see you next weekend then," Marius said as he shook hands with Wim.

Marius walked alongside his horse but halfway home, near where the Stuka's had fired on them, Marius was tiring and he joined Kees on the wagon. It was two hours later before they turned into the back lane behind Marius's bakery.

Sofie and Lien dashed out of the back door, tears rolling down their faces, with their relief obvious they hugged both Marius and Kees.

"Oh my, thank God you're both alive. Lien and I thought you were dead!" Sofie said as she hugged Marius, then she put her arm around Kees and squeezed him, she was sobbing loudly.

When Kees exclaimed loudly in pain and pulled away, his overcoat fell from his shoulders revealing his arm in a sling. Lien, wiping the tears from her eyes, brushed past Sofie and holding Kees by his right arm, led him inside the house where Kees settled into a chair near the fire.

Sofie, quietly sobbing, walked with Marius as he led the horse to the stable.

"What happened to Kees?" she asked.

"We were on the way home yesterday when we, along with a number of other people, were dive bombed by two German Stuka's. They left many dead and many more were injured. Kees and the horse were both hit, fortunately Kees's injury shouldn't be life threatening," Marius said as he spread feed into the trough for the horse. He felt the rump of the horse and raising the lantern he inspected the wound. Relieved that there was no infection he filled the water trough then, putting his arm around Sofie, they walked back to the house.

In the house, Lien was preparing food for the evening meal. She had already given Kees a hot vegetable soup that she had previously prepared for Sofie and herself. Kees was hungry and he was spooning the soup down with relish.

"We'll make a temporary bed down here where we can keep an eye on you," Marius said to Kees.

"No. I'll be alright in the morning after I have a good night's sleep," Kees said.