"Put such thoughts from your mind," he said. "You're out of the Marine Corps and back in neutral Argentina. From here on in, when you see a German, all you can do is look the other way. Or maybe say, 'Buenos dias, Fritz.'"
Clete chuckled, then said, "Look, there he goes. I guess he'll land at El Palomar." In 1943
, El Palomar was the civilian airport on the outskirts of Buenos Aires.
The Captain looked. The Condor was banking away to the right.
"Pretty bird, isn't it?"
"Thank you, Captain. I appreciate your courtesy," Clete said.
"My pleasure," the Captain said. "Welcome home!"
[THREE]
Sea Plane Terminal
River Plate
Buenos Aires, Argentina
1525 9 April 1943
When Panagra's flight 171 appeared in the sky, obviously about to land, Mayor Pedro V. Querro, to Capitan Roberto Lauffer's carefully concealed amusement, became nearly hysterical.
"Lauffer," he ordered in a fierce whisper, "the boat's not here! Call them! There's a phone in there!" He pointed to the Customs and Immigration shed. "Ask where the hell it is!"
"S¡, Se¤or," Lauffer said. "Who should I call, Se¤or?"
Generals Ramirez and Rawson looked at the two of them.
"The School of Naval Warfare! They promised me a boat! And it's not here!"
"Is that what you're looking for, Mayor?" General Rawson asked, pointing.
A highly varnished speedboat was five hundred yards away, splashing through the swells on the river's muddy water. The flag of Argentina flapped at its stern and some sort of naval pennant flew from a short flagpole on the bow.
"That would appear to be it, Se¤or," Querro said.
"I personally have found the Navy to be very reliable," Rawson said, and winked at Lauffer, whose father, a friend, was a retired Naval officer.
The speedboat arrived at the quay before the two boats moored there-the Customs and Immigration boat and the larger boat that would take off the pas-sengers-began to make their way out to meet the Mart¡n flying boat. By then the aircraft had landed, and was in the process of turning around to taxi to the buoy that it would be tied to.
Meanwhile, the speedboat stopped in the water, the coxswain having ap-parently decided to wait until the other boats had left. When he saw that. Mayor Querro signaled almost frantically for it to approach the quay, then turned to Lauffer.
"Well, Lauffer, are you waiting for a formal invitation?" he said, then hur-ried down the stairs and jumped onto the Customs and Immigration boat to wait for the Navy speedboat.
Lauffer descended the stairs and joined him.
"What's going on?" one of the Customs officers asked.
"The Minister of War," Querro announced grandly, gesturing toward the quay, "is personally meeting a distinguished passenger on the Panagra flight."
As soon as the Navy speedboat came close, Querro jumped into it, then turned impatiently to wait for Lauffer.
"Out to the plane!" Querro ordered the moment Lauffer had stepped aboard.
The coxswain immediately gunned the engine, which almost caused Querro to lose his footing.