Garrel, Germany
Before Emery had reached the outskirts of Wilhelmshaven and the canal crossing, Fritz, Miller and the boys had spent two hours in Garrel. Two hours too long for Fritz. The safe house, a two room flat upstairs from a dry goods store, had no heat and could really only fit three people comfortably. Hugo Sturtevant, a short, dark haired balding Dutchman who owned the flat and the store below it, was always prepared for any escapees coming along the route, but had been unprepared for three keyed up boys, one pensive underground agent and one especially weary American bandleader. While Sturtevant scrambled to find blankets for everyone to stay warm, Fritz had tried to contact his group in Düsseldorf with the radio but received no response. He also could not get through on the telephone as phone service was limited and intermittent at best.
He did manage to get through to Hammelburg and left a coded message with the Underground there: His baker's truck broke down and he was concerned he would not be able to get his goods to market before they spoiled.
It was a message Fritz hated to send, because it meant the escape was in trouble. Big trouble. And it frustrated him and even shamed him a little. He had been running escapes on the route for a couple of years. He was good at what he did. He knew the area. But the Gestapo, with help from the SS and Lord knew who else, was pulling out all the stops. Being compromised at the military checkpoint had been a first. And it was a first he would have preferred to not have experienced.
After hanging up the phone, Fritz had paused to look at his charges; the three young boys and Major Miller. Erik and Adler were sprawled on the floor, Ahren sat quietly in a chair. They were quiet but it was a tense quiet. The stakes for escaping had been high to begin with, but when Ahren translated to the other two what the soldier had spoken in English at the checkpoint, the light at the end of the tunnel seemed to dim. They were more concerned about what would happen to Miller. Only as an afterthought did they realize that they too might suffer the same fate.
Major Miller occupied one end of the couch, a blanket over him and had his head leaned back, dozing. He'd been going for more than 24 hours with no sleep and exhaustion was issuing orders he couldn't really ignore anymore. At the same time, however, he was rattled enough knowing the Gestapo and the SS had a bullet with his name on it, and his slumbered thoughts tended to drift on the side of fatalistic. Always figured one of those damn V-1 rockets would get me first...
Fritz seemed to be drawing a blank on what to do next. Where to go. They were forty miles from Wilhelmshaven and their time was essentially up. The first hour in Garrel had been spent just trying to make a connection to an Underground unit closest to Düsseldorf. The latest the fishing boat could wait for them, if it did wait, would be until 7pm. Fritz looked at the hands of the clock reading 5pm and he sighed. They needed a different car, different uniforms, a different route and a different cover.
What they needed most was a miracle. And they needed all of it in less than an hour.
"Brandeis," Sturtevant said, one of the few in the Underground to refer to Fritz by his first name. "I can get you a car and uniforms. I have Helmut checking on an alternate route for you. The cover of night, however, will be your best advantage."
"It will be our only advantage. If we can at least make it to Varel we will be able to stay there the night."
"Ja. And they have heat." Sturtevant smiled.
Fritz chuckled and nodded at him.
The uniforms were Germany Army uniforms, complete with loaded side arms. Fritz woke Miller from his brief rest and handed him the uniform to change. Miller was half way to the little washroom before he realized what it was he would be changing in to. He only paused a moment, looking at the uniform and then turned to look at Fritz. The robust baker looked back apologetically and Miller just gave a light snort and shook his head. He then disappeared into the washroom to change.
An alternate route was worked out and Sturtevant's helpers determined there was one checkpoint to pass through before reaching Varel. For Fritz, that was one checkpoint too many.
"I do not like it," Fritz said. "After what happened I would rather travel on foot than go through another checkpoint." He, Sturtevant, one of the Sturtevant's helpers and Major Miller were seated at the small kitchen table. Fritz and Miller wore their German Army uniforms. A map of Germany was spread out before them. A thin string of smoke from Miller's cigarette hung in the air.
"It is too dangerous to travel on foot," Sturtevant said. "It is also too cold. The car I am getting for you will help you through the checkpoint."
"How's that?" Miller asked.
Sturtevant grinned. "You will see."
The car was the one thing they had to wait for, however. In the meantime, Fritz and Sturtevant put together new identity cards and papers to go with the Army uniforms and then separated out the supplies from the sedan that would be needed for the rest of the trip, the rest to stay with Sturtevant for the next escapee to pass through.
Fritz looked at his watch. It was almost six o'clock. They would definitely not make it to Wilhelmshaven by seven. Although he accepted this set back, he was restless with waiting. Finally, the car arrived at ten minutes after six. Sturtevant gathered everyone to the alley behind his dry goods store.
Major Miller looked at the car and saw pretty much just a German Army staff car. Military flags fluttered on the ends of the rounded fenders. The convertible top was up and covered a clean and plush interior, with a woodgrain dash board, polished wood molding and velvour seats. What he didn't see, was Sturtevant's trick for getting them through the checkpoint.
The Dutchman opened the double back doors and revealed the car's secret. The extended back seat, with two bench seats facing each other, had been altered in such a way as not to be immediately noticeable to a passing glance. Much like a box can be made with a false bottom, these seats were "false" seats. The cores had been removed, leaving only a modified outside shell. They still looked like the seats and could still sit a passenger as normal. But they provided nearly flawless hiding places.
The first bench seat, directly behind the front seats, could hide one person, although they would be packed in almost like a sardine. The back bench seat, towards the trunk, actually extended into the trunk, the paneling between the seat and trunk removable, to allow more room. This offered a spot for at least two people.
Ahren, Adler and Erik thought the false seats were incredible. Each of the boys climbed into the car and tried out a hiding spot, helping demonstrate the simplicity and ease of use. Major Miller was both impressed and amused by the modification. "Bootleggers during Prohibition would have loved this car," he said.
"Bootleggers?" Sturtevant asked.
"Whiskey runners," Miller said.
Fritz chuckled and looked at Sturtevant. "I believe he is referring to when the Americans outlawed the making and selling of beer and liquors several years ago. There were people who found…other ways to continue making, and transporting, the liquor."
"Ah, I see." Sturtevant smiled at Miller. "Germany has outlawed few liquors but I understand the reference you are making. Smugglers. I will say Herr Miller, this car has been used to smuggle other various things. Thus, the modification."
Miller nodded, looking into the car again. He then looked at Fritz. "You're not going to try to stuff me in there are you?"
"Initially that is what I was thinking," Sturtevant answered. "But it is obvious," he continued, looking up at Miller and taking into account the bandleader's height. "You are not going to fit."
"I'll just have to take the chance sitting up front."
"It is a chance I do not like," Fritz said.
"Well I'm not exactly crazy about it myself," Miller said. "But with the boys hiding in the seats, we should be less obvious at any of those checkpoints."
"He is right," Sturtevant said. "The checkpoint before Varel is remote. You will cause no suspicion there."
Fritz thought this over and nodded. "Very well." He then looked at his watch. It was near six-thirty. "We have missed the boat for tonight, but we will be able to stay in Varel until tomorrow. Goldilocks should be able to pick you up tomorrow night."
Miller nodded. He was about to ask if the twenty-four hour delay was risky, but inherently he already knew the answer.
Wilhelmshaven, Germany
As Fritz, Miller and the boys were heading out of Garrel, Emery arrived for a quick stop at the safe house in Wilhelmshaven for the boys to get some dry clothes and hot soup. At twenty minutes to seven they drove the short distance from the safe house to the pier. The captain of the fishing boat was waiting. He ushered them aboard and then pulled Emery aside.
"This is not all of them."
Emery shook his head. "I am not sure what has happened to Fritz with Herr Miller and the others." He looked at his watch. "Can we wait?"
The fisherman checked his watch. "Ja, we can wait but not for long."
Emery nodded. This much he knew.
Düsseldorf, Germany
Gestapo Headquarters
The subdued idling of the fishing boat engines was a stark contrast to the noise at Gestapo Headquarters in Düsseldorf. At about quarter to seven, Major Hochstetter received some bad news.
"You had them!" Hochstetter roared, slamming his hand on his desk for emphasis. The two Army officers, who had been given the unpleasant task of directly reporting to the Gestapo what had happened at the checkpoint east of Clappenburg, didn't flinch. They'd heard worse from the upper ranks of the German Army.
"You had them and those two dumkopfs let them get away!"
"Herr Major, the soldiers were trying to verify that it was really the American--"
"BAH! They should have detained him in such a manner so that he would have no chance to escape and then ask the questions! The only chance those two have now is for duty to the Eastern Front!" Hochstetter stepped away from his desk and walked over to the map of Germany, marked up with points where reports had come in. He looked at his watch and then back at the map again. "Three hours...they could have gone anywhere in three hours!" He punched the map and turned back to the Army officers. "Why did it take you three hours to report this to me?"
The two Army officers looked at each other, neither one particular on explaining the delay. But they had no choice. "The soldiers were tied up," one of the officers explained. "We did not find out what had happened until their reliefs had arrived."
"This may be a costly mistake. If your soldiers had been more proactive they would not have been tied up and we would not have to waste further resources in the chase. We would have had them!"
"Ja, Herr Major."
"You will inform your troops that from this point on, if they suspect that they may have the American at their check point they are to immediately detain him. Allow no chance for escape! Place him under immediate arrest and then do their questioning to verify."
"Jawohl, Herr Major."
"Also make it clear that a mistake such as what we've seen...will not be tolerated."
"Jawohl, Herr Major..."
"Dismissed." Hochstetter waved them out of the room. No sooner had the two Army officers left, when a courier came in.
"Herr Major." He held out a communiqué. "From Wilhelmshaven There was an incident at one of the canal crossings, they think it may have been some of the kids that escaped with the American."
Hochstetter grabbed the sheet and read it quickly. "Wilhelmshaven..." He turned and looked at the map again, tracing the route from Clappenburg to Wilhelmshaven with his eyes. Yes...
A rare smirk crept across Hochstetter's face. "Now I've got him..."
Wilhelmshaven, Germany
Seven o'clock came too quickly. The four boys had said their goodbyes and expressed their thanks for what Emery had done for them just after they had stepped on the boat. The captain had then sent them below deck, while he and Emery remained on deck in hopes that Fritz would arrive with the rest of the group. But there was little activity along the pier and no car pulled up. The captain apologized to Emery and said he had to leave immediately in order to meet the sub. Emery nodded. He wished a safe trip for the captain and stepped off the boat and back onto the pier.
The fishing boat's engines had already been idling and Emery watched as a couple members of the crew unlatched the dock ropes. Then the boat was pushed away from the dock and chugged away at a subdued pace and with minimal lights on. Emery sighed. His mission was complete and although he was relieved to have got the four boys to this point he found little joy in the success. Fritz, Miller and the other three boys were still out there somewhere.
Emery turned and walked down the pier, returning to the car. He had to find out where they were.