instrument cases and overcoats were searched for weapons. The near-assassination at the National Theatre had proven how very close death was for President Beneš.
And if death walked like a shadow behind the tiny form of this man, then it loomed up like mountains around the nation itself. The Death’s-Head units of the SS cast longing, hungry looks across the borders into Czechoslovakia. Even as the music played within Hradcany and the crystal chandeliers illuminated the gold-leaf splendor of the great palace in Prague, another scene was taking place in Germany. Fury and hatred simmered up, blackening the hearts of those who listened to the ravings of the beloved Führer:
“Czechoslovakia must be wiped off the map! It will be wiped off the map! It is my unshakable will that we accomplish this! Listen! We will not back down from those subhuman pygmies again! October first we will hold Czechoslovakia in our hand! And the fingers of the Reich will slowly close and clench until there is no life left there but the life we bring!”
***
Admiral Canaris was unmoving as he scanned the request of Thomas von Kleistmann. He raised his piercing blue eyes to stare angrily at the handsome young officer across from him. “What good do you think this will do?” he asked.
“What way is left for any German officer with honor?” Thomas replied.
“Self-centered prattle!” Canaris snapped. “Do you think I do not see through your intentions, von Kleistmann? Ultimately you intend to lay down your life for the sake of the Fatherland.”
“Why not? What else should I hope for?”
“There is no Fatherland left. No truer patriotism than to live and serve honor as a traitor to Hitler and his Reich. Live , and serve truth!” Canaris slammed his hand down on his desk.
“How can I do that in Paris? Without a contact?” Thomas challenged.
“Patience,” Canaris replied, tearing the transfer request in half and dropping it into the garbage can.
“How can I know if I am approached that the courier will not be an agent for the Gestapo? How can we know anything anymore?”
“You are afraid of the Gestapo? You, who want to be first across the line when Hitler storms the Czechs? You, who long for death from the rifle of an enemy? I tell you this—if you die from a Czech bullet, you have been killed by a man defending his nation! If you die at the hands of the Nazi Gestapo, you die at the hands of traitors who will destroy all that is good about the German people! Turn your eyes to the truth, Thomas, as your father would have done! You may die, as I may certainly die, but we must not view death as simply an end to our suffering! If it is to be, then we must give death purpose! We must fight against the evil that has taken hold of our people and our country!”
“The English will not lift a finger. The Führer is right.”
A slight smile crept across the lips of Canaris. “What have the English to do with this? This is our battle first.” He leaned forward and whispered with a frightening intensity, “Has the Führer made you believe that he is invincible also? Have you listened to the lie?”
“I have wished only to die now, as my father did.”
“Months ago I told you to put away hope for your life. I did not mean that you should abandon all hope.” Canaris seemed disappointed. “This is not the way any of us would have chosen to serve. But it is the only way left to us.” The little man stood slowly and turned to look at a wall decorated with yellowed photographs of battleships and submarines with rows of young sailors standing at attention. “Tonight Hitler will review the troops as they march before the Chancellery. I want you to come with me. To remind yourself why you must stay where you are.”
Thomas had been given an order. He saluted in acknowledgement, then lowered his eyes. There was an eagerness in the voice of Canaris that had not existed when they had met in Vienna. Could it be that the chief of
And if death walked like a shadow behind the tiny form of this man, then it loomed up like mountains around the nation itself. The Death’s-Head units of the SS cast longing, hungry looks across the borders into Czechoslovakia. Even as the music played within Hradcany and the crystal chandeliers illuminated the gold-leaf splendor of the great palace in Prague, another scene was taking place in Germany. Fury and hatred simmered up, blackening the hearts of those who listened to the ravings of the beloved Führer:
“Czechoslovakia must be wiped off the map! It will be wiped off the map! It is my unshakable will that we accomplish this! Listen! We will not back down from those subhuman pygmies again! October first we will hold Czechoslovakia in our hand! And the fingers of the Reich will slowly close and clench until there is no life left there but the life we bring!”
***
Admiral Canaris was unmoving as he scanned the request of Thomas von Kleistmann. He raised his piercing blue eyes to stare angrily at the handsome young officer across from him. “What good do you think this will do?” he asked.
“What way is left for any German officer with honor?” Thomas replied.
“Self-centered prattle!” Canaris snapped. “Do you think I do not see through your intentions, von Kleistmann? Ultimately you intend to lay down your life for the sake of the Fatherland.”
“Why not? What else should I hope for?”
“There is no Fatherland left. No truer patriotism than to live and serve honor as a traitor to Hitler and his Reich. Live , and serve truth!” Canaris slammed his hand down on his desk.
“How can I do that in Paris? Without a contact?” Thomas challenged.
“Patience,” Canaris replied, tearing the transfer request in half and dropping it into the garbage can.
“How can I know if I am approached that the courier will not be an agent for the Gestapo? How can we know anything anymore?”
“You are afraid of the Gestapo? You, who want to be first across the line when Hitler storms the Czechs? You, who long for death from the rifle of an enemy? I tell you this—if you die from a Czech bullet, you have been killed by a man defending his nation! If you die at the hands of the Nazi Gestapo, you die at the hands of traitors who will destroy all that is good about the German people! Turn your eyes to the truth, Thomas, as your father would have done! You may die, as I may certainly die, but we must not view death as simply an end to our suffering! If it is to be, then we must give death purpose! We must fight against the evil that has taken hold of our people and our country!”
“The English will not lift a finger. The Führer is right.”
A slight smile crept across the lips of Canaris. “What have the English to do with this? This is our battle first.” He leaned forward and whispered with a frightening intensity, “Has the Führer made you believe that he is invincible also? Have you listened to the lie?”
“I have wished only to die now, as my father did.”
“Months ago I told you to put away hope for your life. I did not mean that you should abandon all hope.” Canaris seemed disappointed. “This is not the way any of us would have chosen to serve. But it is the only way left to us.” The little man stood slowly and turned to look at a wall decorated with yellowed photographs of battleships and submarines with rows of young sailors standing at attention. “Tonight Hitler will review the troops as they march before the Chancellery. I want you to come with me. To remind yourself why you must stay where you are.”
Thomas had been given an order. He saluted in acknowledgement, then lowered his eyes. There was an eagerness in the voice of Canaris that had not existed when they had met in Vienna. Could it be that the chief of
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