Page 43 of V2

Huber resumed his inspection of the fire. ‘There’s no one over there that I can see.’ He gave the binoculars to Drexler. ‘We should go and make sure.’ He spotted Graf. ‘You should come too.’

They clambered back into the Kübelwagen. Graf squeezed into the rear seat next to Biwack. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the National Socialist Leadership Officer seemed to be ignoring him. Klein, who had been a mechanic before the war, drove skilfully but quickly, throwing them around. Graf hung onto the door. Just before the SS checkpoint, the lieutenant swung the wheel hard over to the right. They left the main road and descended the grassy slope towards the lake. From here, they got a much better view of the fire. Spurts of orange flame stood out brilliantly in the grey morning. As they drove around the water’s edge, they could hear it crackling, devouring the vegetation. Smoke and ash drifted on the wind across the water. The bombs had fallen on the little island as well as on the opposite shore.

Klein said, ‘It looks as though they may have dropped some incendiaries, Colonel.’

‘No point in trying to put that out,’ said Huber. ‘Safer to let it burn. Stop here.’

They got out and stood on the shore, surveying the fire from a distance of a hundred metres. Graf had a turn with the binoculars. One of the bombs had left a deep crater, as if a giant thumb had gouged out the earth. When the wind shifted in their direction, he could feel the heat.

Klein said, ‘I don’t think we can have had anything stored there, Colonel. If we had, it would have exploded by now.’

Huber nodded. ‘We were lucky.’

Biwack said, ‘Has this happened before?’

‘It never happens,’ said Huber. ‘The Jabos hit our old launch site at Rijsterbos about six weeks ago, but only after we’d pulled out of the area to come here.’

Biwack frowned. ‘Then why has it happened today, I wonder?

‘Who can say?’

Klein said, ‘Perhaps an RAF patrol spotted something.’

‘What is there to spot?’ said Huber. ‘The missiles are only moved from the railhead when it’s dark. The Luftwaffe have checked our camouflage security from the air. It’s first-rate. We’re undetectable.’

Biwack had taken out his notebook. ‘Except during a launch, presumably.’

‘True.’ Huber eyed the notebook irritably. ‘But we never launch if there are reports of enemy aircraft within fifty kilometres.’

‘Then perhaps our location was betrayed by someone on the ground?’ He looked at Drexler.

‘Impossible,’ said the SS commander. ‘We have the entire area sealed off. The local population are long gone. There are no Dutch civilians within at least four kilometres.’

‘Dr Graf?’ said Biwack. ‘What do you make of it?’

‘Me?’ Graf looked at him in surprise. He had been thinking of the girl in the brothel. ‘Why would I have an opinion? I only know about the engineering. Security is nothing to do with me.’

‘It could have been a coincidence,’ suggested Klein. ‘A routine patrol decided to dump their bombs before turning for home.’

‘It didn’t look much of a coincidence to me,’ said Biwack. ‘It looked very precise, in fact.’

‘Let’s not over-think it, gentlemen!’ said Huber sharply. ‘It’s hardly a disaster. Look! All they hit were trees!’ He folded his arms and stared at the column of smoke. ‘Let’s treat it as a wake-up call. Perhaps we have become complacent. We should tighten up the launch procedures, make sure we evacuate the sites within ten minutes of firing. Why don’t we—’

The wail of the air raid siren stopped him in mid-sentence. For a moment, nobody spoke. They looked from one to another.

Biwack said pointedly, ‘Another coincidence?’

‘They can’t be coming back,’ said Drexler. ‘They already dropped their bombs. It must be a second wave.’

‘Or a false alarm,’ added Klein.

Huber said, ‘Whatever it is, we should take cover. They might use the fire as an aiming point.’ He glanced around. They were out in the open. There was nowhere to shelter. ‘Let’s get back to the technical troop. And we’d best be quick about it.’

They crammed back into the Kübelwagen. Klein threw it into reverse before Graf even had time to close the door. They shot backwards, braked and lurched forward in a spurt of mud as he spun the car round. By the time they had bounced back up the slope to the road, they could already hear the rapid boom of anti-aircraft fire.

‘Stop!’ ordered Huber. He cocked his ear, listening – the old artilleryman. ‘That’s coming from the coastal battery at Rijnsoever. Forget the technical troop. Let’s go back to HQ.’

Klein turned right. When they reached the SS checkpoint, he struck the horn with the heel of his hand and left it there until the guard climbed out of his slit trench and lifted the barrier. The main road into town was deserted, abandoned vehicles parked up haphazardly on the kerbside as their occupants sought shelter. They drove at speed past the empty guest houses and hotels towards the seafront. Outside the Hotel Schmitt, Klein braked sharply and they all pitched forward. Huber was the first one out. He stood on the pavement and studied the sky through his binoculars. ‘Looks like they’re hitting Wassenaar. Where’s the damned Luftwaffe?’ He adjusted the focus. ‘Ah yes, here they come!’