Synopsis

In Chapter 1 (KTB #148) ERICH begins his career as a spy, and he lets us know of his love of beautiful women. In Chapter 2 (KTB #149), he was transferred home to Germany and his shipboard romance with Karen ended. In Chapter 3 (KTB #151) he began his training as a spy – and he learned that a spy who falls in love with an enemy spy – gets shot! In Chapter 4 (KTB #152) we read where ERICH himself falls for a woman who turned out to be a German spy herself and her job was to lure German spies in training to betray themselves – and ERICH is nearly washed out of spy training. In Chapter 5 (KTB #153) we learned that ERICH was to be in charge of Operation PELIKAN, the plan to blow up the Panama Canal with two Ju 87 STUKA dive bombers brought over on two U-boats. At the last moment, it was thought by the German agency, that someone had tipped off the Americans to this plot, so the plan was scrapped. In Chapter 6 (KTB #154 and KTB #155) we read how ERICH and the Abwehr tried to find him a partner for his mission into the USA with the intended purpose of sabotaging the Manhattan Project – the atomic bomb project in the United States. In Chapter 7 (KTB #156) we read about the Atlantic crossing to the USA where ERICH and Billy were to be put ashore to assault the ‘Manhattan Project’. In Chapter 8 (KTB #157), the two agents landed on the coast of Maine, ready to begin their sabotage of the atomic bomb project. In Chapter 9 (KTB #158) ERICH gets the shock of learning that Billy has taken all the money and the diamonds, and deserted not only the mission, but ERICH as well. In the first part of Chapter 10 (KTB #159) ERICH is trying desperately to find Billy – and get his $60,000 and diamonds back. In the balance of Chapter 10, we see how ERICH outwitted Billy and got his suitcases, filled with money and spy equipment back – at Billy’s expense but in the meantime to nobody’s surprise, ERICH has found another woman. In chapter 11, ERICH is doing well with this new woman, an old contact is going to tell him about the Manhattan Project - but his time is running out and Billy is about to betray him to the F.B.I. In Chapter 12, ERICH was happily spending Christmas with Joan, but his tour of duty as a spy – and his life, were almost over. He was arrested by the F.B.I. and headed for the gallows. In Chapter 13, he's grilled by the F.B.I. In Chapter 14, he faces the probability of the hangman.

Chapter 14 (II): In the Shadow of the Hangman

There was another pause. My mind worked feverishly. The offer was certainly attractive. As I considered it a terrible weariness came over me. What I should most of all have liked to do at the moment was to lie down and go to sleep. Temptation, soft, insidious, temptation! Freedom! Release from the prison cage! Release from the cell, from fear of the judge, from the threat of the gallows! Back perhaps to Joan, to Joan of whom I thought day and night, whom I saw constantly before my eyes, near enough to touch and who disappeared as soon as I stretched out my hand to her.

The war was as good as over. Lost. Everything had been in vain. The blood that was shed in Russia, the losses in Africa, the suffering in France, all for nothing. All for a system of government that had deserved its collapse a hundred thousand fold. The continuance of hostilities now was pointless except for the purpose of gaining a few more months for the ruling clique before they were overtaken by their inevitable doom. During the past weeks I had had opportunity enough to ponder well on many things which formerly I had obstinately thrust away from me. It had become clear to me that in this war one could not serve Germany without at the same time becoming a tool of Hitler.

But I had realized this too late. I might have considered turning against Hitler, but against Germany – never.

“No,” I answered the colonel, “I can’t do that. Just think for a moment if you were in captivity in Germany and it was suggested to you that you should work against America, what would your answer be?”

He remained silent.

“We could force you,” interrupted one of the two majors.

“You might shoot me but you could never force me.”

There was a painful silence. After a while the colonel took up the conversation again. “There is no need for you to reach a decision today. We will call again tomorrow. I have this proposition to make to you, that you enter our service. I am not sure yet how we can make use of you. Perhaps you can broadcast to the German people. You have seen what things look like in America, and you have yourself admitted that Germany will lose the war. You are the only man who could make this clear to your fellow countrymen. When this war is over they will thank you. If you accept this proposition you are a free man, with certain conditions, of course. When the war is over you may leave America or remain here, as you wish. The decision on that rests entirely with you. You will not have to appear before a court martial. The American newspapers will know absolutely nothing about you. Do I make myself clear? There simply would be no German spy Gimpel. There would just be a German reader for Allied broadcasts to Germany for whom we should have to think up a name and a background story.”

He stopped speaking, remained standing and looked me fixedly in the eyes. The two majors also looked hard at me. A few seconds passed. The electric fan was humming softly. It was warm in the room. The Americans have the unfortunate habit of overdoing the central heating. In front of the window a whistle sounded; the guard was being changed. Then I heard my fellow prisoner from Benny Goodman’s orchestra play a few bars on his trumpet. Then came laughter, and footsteps sounded outside the door. A man stopped in the corridor and then walked slowly away again…..

The officers were still staring at me. Once again I felt that dry feeling in my mouth. I passed my tongue over my lips a few times. They were parched. I wanted to say something but no word came. It didn’t matter anyhow. What I wanted to say I could not say and what I had to say they knew already.

“It’s damned hot in here,” said one of the two majors. He opened a window and looked out for a moment into the yard.

I took a cigarette from the packet of Camels the colonel had produced. He gave me a light ad put his hand on my shoulder. “You can let us have your decision tomorrow morning at ten. Your fate is in your own hands. You can be your own hangman, of course, if you want it that way.”

I went back into my cage, and threw myself down on the bed. I felt a mixture of hate, fear, defiance and self-pity well up in me. What I should really have liked to do at that moment was to shriek and at the same time weep. Senselessly I beat my hands against the wire mesh.

“O.K. boy,” a warder called out laughing. “I know what you want.” He pushed a cigarette through for me.

My two counsels came to see me. I told them of the offer I had received from the O.S.S. They shrugged their shoulders and made no attempt to influence me, but later Major Reagin said: “I never expected you’d do any differently, and I must say I wouldn’t have been too keen on defending you if at that juncture you had wavered in your attitude. To me, you are a soldier, nothing more, nothing less. I am a soldier too. Actually the only thing that distinguishes us is the color of our uniform, and our language, of course.”

Meanwhile my counsel’s maneuver had come off and the case was postponed for a week. “As I see it,” said Reagin, “the war will come to an end in May 1945. We are short of four weeks. How can we get over the difficulty? I don’t quite know. The case begins on the 6th February and will last at lease a week. Sentence will be executed about four weeks after its pronouncement, that is to say, roughly in the second week in April. I reckon the war will come to an end in the second week of May but those damned four weeks may cost you your life.”

I was certainly in a strange situation. My sole chance of survival lay in the immediate capitulation of my Fatherland. It was a terrible position to be in. The annihilation of Germany was the condition for my continuing in the land of the living. I could, I should, I must speculate on total surrender. Meanwhile my brother had fallen at Stalingrad, my father had been wounded in the First World War, my closest friends had fallen in the north, the east and the west, millions had fallen for Führer and Fatherland, and the architect of all this misery was at the last moment to desert by suicide.

My warders did all they could to cheer me up, but I was my own worst enemy. Strangely enough, my appetite for life increased and day and night I plagued myself with thoughts of all the things I had missed. My mind was full of fantasies which would have been good material for a psychiatrist. I drove in Cadillacs, swam at Miami, kissed tall, slim, beautiful women, ordered expensive made to order suits, ate lobster mayonnaise and counted out thousand dollar bills. I bought jewelry and drank champagne, and ate pounds of caviar which I had never actually cared for.

Then my father was there again.

I saw his drawn, lined face. I felt his hunger, his fear of the bombs, his anxiety for me – after all, I was all he had now, and he would probably have me for only three more weeks. He had no idea where I was and he could have no conception of the situation in which I now found myself.

My superiors in Berlin must of course be aware of what was happening, but they would take great care not to give away any details. When Dr. S of Reich Security learned that I had been caught, he swore vigorously to himself.

A conference of colleagues was called and they discussed whether I would be likely to hold my tongue under F.B.I. interrogation. Most of them believed I would, and not without justification. I did, in fact, succeed in keeping secret the names of our men who were working in America or who had worked for us there, but it must be admitted that I owe my steadfastness largely to the fair treatment I received at the hands of the F.B.I. who made no serious attempts to coerce me.

My fate was naturally of no special concern to my colleagues at Reich Security. They were all very much concerned with their own affairs, preparing their get-away. Most of them were trying to find some way of slipping out to Spain. One of them started a new life for himself with the proceeds from my gold watch and other personal valuables which I had been obliged to leave behind in the safe of the Reich Security Central Office in Berlin.

My case was still being kept a close secret and I still cannot imagine how the F.B.I. and the Army authorities succeeded in keeping the high-pressure American journalists away from me. But still no Gimpel story appeared in the press. The repercussions of the landing of U-1230 in Frenchman Bay were, however, felt in innermost government circles and President Roosevelt himself ordered the convening of the court martial which was to try me. I must say that they did one-time Agent 146 of the German M.I. every honor.

The Army order for the opening of the trial was signed by General T. A. Terry. At the judge’s table saw Colonel Clinton J. Harrold, Lathrop R. Bullens and John B. Grier and in addition one lieutenant colonel and three majors sat with the jury. The case for the prosecution was conducted by Major Robert Carey and First Lieutenant Kenneth F. Graf. The leading Public Prosecutor of the USA – he was entitled to be referred to as Your Honor – attended as observer and advisor. Next to him sat the leading Public Prosecutor for the State of New York.

The case was heard in a government building on Governor’s Island. The general commanding the Second Army Corps also had his headquarters there. I was taken there in a closed car in handcuffs. Billy traveled in a second car. The Army had taken enormous trouble to see that we were kept apart, but in any case, we had no desire for contact.

It was at this point that I saw the first reporters. They had no idea what was going on but the preparations for the court martial had not escaped their notice and they had stationed themselves with flashlight apparatus and newsreel cameras at the entrance to the court. They were waging a desperate battle with the military police, and needless to say the military police won.

As soon as I entered the building my handcuffs were removed. I was to appear before the judge as a free man. the corridors reeked of cleanliness. It was a modern building with a pleasant atmosphere. The room in which the case was to be heard was on the ground floor. It was not very big and was filled to capacity.

It was the Army’s Fault – no, the Navy’s Fault

Nearly all the people there were either Navy or Army officers. In the background of my own case, the Navy and the Army were conducting a private battle, trying to push the blame for my successful landing on to each other. The domestic arguments had in fact become very heated and neither arm of the American forces was disposed to spare the other. Among the many witnesses who had been summoned were several high ranking officers who were responsible for the coastal defenses of the State of Maine. They all left the witness box with red faces.

On the 6th February at 9am sharp I was led into the room. to the left and right of me walked members of the military police. Much decorated war heroes had been selected to be my guards, and everything had been done to make a good spectacle and achieve the maximum effect. On the President’s table which was draped with the Stars and Stripes lay an enormous wooden gavel. An outsized portrait head of Roosevelt stared at me with icy indifference from out its wooden frame.

The German Spy and the American Traitor

Everyone started at me. I sat down between the two majors who were my counsel and they nodded to me encouragingly. One minute later Billy was brought in and one could positively feel the wave of animosity that greeted his arrival. There was much hissing and whispering.

Before the proceedings began, everyone had to stand – members of the jury, counsel for the prosecution, counsel for the defense, the court personnel and everyone present had to take the oath that they would preserve secrecy on all details of the case.

The Presidents, Colonel Clinton J. Harrold (like all other members of the court, he was in uniform), took his wooden gavel and brought it down ceremoniously three times on the table. Harrold was tall, slim, grey-haired and fresh complexioned. He spoke slowly and very distinctly, weighing every word. He was so soigné in both manner and appearance that he might have been a candidate for the American Presidency appearing before the television cameras.

“The Session has begun,” he said.

Spy for Germany

Chapter 7: To America by Submarine (KTB # 156)
Chapter 8: The Landing in America (KTB # 157)
Chapter 9: Tricked by Billy in NYC (KTB # 158)
Chapter 10 (I): I Work Out My Own Situation (KTB # 159)
Chapter 10 (II): I Work Out My Own Situation (KTB # 160)
Chapter 11 (I): Billy Betrays Me to the F.B.I. (KTB # 161)
Chapter 11 (II): Billy Betrays Me to the F.B.I. (KTB # 162)
Chapter 12 (I): Love -- and then Arrest! (KTB # 163)
Chapter 12 (II): Love -- and then Arrest! (KTB # 164)
Chapter 13 (I): Grilled by the FBI (KTB # 165)
Chapter 13 (II): Grilled by the FBI (KTB # 166)
Chapter 13 (III): Grilled by the FBI (KTB # 167)
Chapter 14 (I): In the Shadow of the Hangman (KTB # 168)
Chapter 14 (II): In the Shadow of the Hangman (KTB # 169)
Chapter 15 (I): Sentenced to Death (KTB # 170)