After a pause during which no one answered, he answered the question himself. “Because they hoped we would eventually tire of trying to figure out what the hell was happening in this place and leave. Then they could come back for whatever is hidden down there and then really give us the finger again by blowing this sonofabitch up.”
General White grunted, then said, “I realize it’s categorized as wisdom from the mouth of a babe, but I think Super Spook just nailed it.”
[TWO]
The next day, at 0500 hours, everyone waited in the courtyard of Wewelsburg Castle, which now held a fleet of M8 armored cars, their engines idling. There were no chairs. General White, Captain Cronley, Father McKenna, and General Serov were standing near the entrance to the kitchen, sipping coffee.
“I am willing to admit there may be a minor flaw or two in my planning,” General White said to Cronley.
“This is no time to shake my boundless confidence in you, General, sir,” Cronley said.
“The fact that no one outside can see my M8s does not preclude the likelihood that someone outside has had the castle under surveillance and saw the M8s come in. We very well may have lost the element of surprise.”
“I can top that, sir,” Colonel Cohen said. “What if the person who has the castle under surveillance and has seen all your M8s come in asks himself, what better time to blow the place up than with all those M8s in it?”
“And,” Cronley added, “what if Colonel Dickinson touches the wrong wire, or something, while he’s down there trying to deactivate the HE and—kaaaa-BOOM?”
White, on the edge of sarcasm, said, “And what do you suggest we do, Super Spook?”
“What you planned from the start, sir: sound Boots and Saddles. I’ll go to the military government’s building with two M8s. That’ll give me—what?—sixteen Constabulary guys. And with the rest of this little army, you surround the other house and block all roads out. And in.”
White looked at him, nodded, then put his hand to his mouth and mimicked playing Boots and Saddles, the bugle call for troops to mount up and take their place in line.
“We move out in five minutes,” General White then ordered.
“I’d like to come along,” General Serov said.
“So would I,” Father McKenna said.
“Absolutely not,” White said.
“General Serov speaks fluent German, sir,” Cronley said.
“I’ll go with Cronley,” Cohen said.
“No,” Cronley said, flatly. “Colonel Cohen goes with General White and General Serov. I’ll take Father McKenna with me.”
White, silent, glanced at everyone before he said, “I have just successfully resisted the temptation to stand everybody tall while I told you how this is going down. But don’t push me any further, Cronley.”
“No disrespect was intended, sir,” Cronley said.
“Maybe not, but that’s the way it came out.”
[THREE]
Kilometer 26, Kreis Route 33
Kreis Paderborn, American Zone of Occupation, Germany
0530 29 April 1946
Cronley signaled for the sergeant in charge of Troop “C” 11th Constabulary’s M8 light armored car to pull to the side of the road and stop. The sergeant acknowledged the order by nodding his head.
As the first six-wheeled M8 turned off the narrow macadam road, the M8 behind it followed. As soon as the lead M8 stopped, a crisply uniformed lieutenant jumped out of the second vehicle and ran up to the first, then clambered up its side.
“With you there, Lieutenant,” Cronley announced, “the sergeant and I are going to have trouble getting out.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”