“And what would that be, Manfred?” Perón said, smiling coldly.
“I will presume to speak as both a friend, Juan Domingo, and as a brother officer.” He waited for Peter to translate, and for Perón to nod, and then went on: “I come to you as a Generalmajor of the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht, and bring to you their apology for the outrageous and unpardonable actions of an officer of the Sicherheitsdienst who was permitted, for reasons I do not pretend to understand, to wear the uniform of an army colonel. I refer, of course, to the late so-called Oberst Grüner.”
“The last time I saw you, Manfred,” Perón said, “you were wearing the uniform of the SS.”
“I was sent to the SS, against my personal wishes, by the OKW, because it was believed that an Army officer, the son of an Army officer, the grandson of an Army officer, might be able to instill in the SS some understanding of the code of honor,” von Deitzberg said. “This instance particularly—and certainly others—show how I have failed.”
My God, von Deitzberg said that with a straight face, Peter thought in amazement, and Perón seems to be swallowing it whole.
Maybe because he wants to believe it?
“Translate, if you will, Mayor,” Perón said. “I found it difficult to believe that Germany would order the murder of el Coronel Frade. But the facts—”
“No one in the Wehrmacht would do such a thing,” von Deitzberg said. “Grüner disgraced the uniform he should not have been wearing in the first place. Questions of honor aside, it was a stupid thing to do. I’m sure it enraged the Argentine officer corps….”
“Yes, it did,” Perón said.
“And it enraged the German officer corps,” von Deitzberg continued. “And if I have to say this, Juan Domingo, it shamed and enraged me.”
Perón made a wave of dismissal. “It never entered my mind that you, or any German officer I know, had anything to do with it,” he said, and then gestured for Peter to make the translation.
“So far as the German officer corps is concerned, Juan Domingo,” von Deitzberg replied, “the late Oberst Frade was a friend. He earned the respect—and the friendship—of all who knew him when he was at the Kriegsschule. And his nephew died an honorable officer’s death while serving with us in our mutual fight against the godless Communists at Stalingrad.”
The poor, stupid bastard, Peter thought unkindly, got himself killed playing soldier. He was supposed to be an observer, a noncombatant, and an observer is not supposed to fly around in a Storch directing artillery fire.
Perón did not reply.
“The assignment of Major von Wachtstein, the distinguished scion of a noble family of German soldiers, to accompany the remains of Captain Duarte to his Fatherland was not accidental, but rather a gesture of the respect in which the officer corps held the late Coronel Frade,” von Deitzberg said, and gestured for Peter to make the translation.
“And that was appreciated by the family,” Perón said. “And by myself.”
“May I speak indelicately, between soldiers?” von Deitzberg said, then went on without waiting for Peter to translate. “The question of what to do with the so-called Colonel Grüner has been solved for us—”
“I don’t understand,” Perón interrupted without any translation from Peter.
Obviously, Peter thought, Perón’s German is better than he’s willing to admit.
“There is a certain justice in what el Coronel Frade’s son did at the beach at Samborombón Bay,” von Deitzberg said. “An eye for an eye, so to speak.”
“What was going on at the beach?” Perón asked.
“Admiral Canaris wants the officers from the Graf Spee to escape, as he himself escaped from internment here in the First World War. To that end, Grüner and Goltz were trying to bring ashore a radio transmitter.”
“Then that was an intolerable violation of Argentine sovereignty,” Perón said.
“With all respect, Juan Domingo, if I were in their shoes, I would try to return to active service, and I think you would too.”
“Nevertheless, that is unacceptable behavior.”
“The question, I respectfully suggest, Juan Domingo, is moot. They did not get the radios ashore.”
“You understand, Manfred, that now that you have told me this, I will have to take the appropriate action to ensure that the Graf Spee officers remain interned.”
“I knew that when I told you,” von Deitzberg said. “The more important question, however, is ‘how can we close the door on this unfortunate incident?’”
“I don’t think I know what you mean,” Perón said.
“Can you express to the Argentine officer corps the profound apologies of the German officer corps for the actions—however unauthorized—of the so-called Colonel Grüner? Will you accept my word of honor as an officer that we have taken steps that will prevent anything like this from ever happening again?”