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I
Chapter ONE
Marburg an der Lahn, Germany
8 November 1942
On the night of November 7, Obersturmführer-SS-SD Wilhelm Peis, a tall, pale, blond man of twenty-eight, who was the senior Sicherheitsdienst (SS Security Service) officer in Marburg an der Lahn, received the following message by Teletype from Berlin:
YOU WILL PLEASE TAKE ALL NECESSARY STEPS TO ENSURE THE SECURITY OF REICHSMINISTER ALBERT SPEER AND A PERSONAL STAFF OF FOUR WHO WILL MAKE AN UNPUBLICIZED VISIT TO THE FULMAR ELEKTRISCHES WERK AT MARBURG 8 NOVEMBER. THE REICHSMINISTER WILL ARRIVE BY PRIVATE TRAIN AT 10:15 AND DEPART IN THE SAME MANNER AT APPROXIMATELY 15:45.
The message from Berlin seemed more or less routine to Peis, and he at first treated it as such until early in the morning of the eighth when Gauleiter Karl-Heinz Schroeder—in a state somewhere between chagrin and panic—burst into Peis’s sleeping quarters (Peis was not in fact asleep) and pointedly reminded him that not only had Speer taken the place of Dr. Fritz Todt as head of the Todt Organization—in charge of all industrial production, military and civilian—which made him one of the most powerful men in Germany, but that he was a personal friend, perhaps the closest personal friend—of the Führer himself.
The intensity of Schroeder’s concern impelled Peis to double his efforts on behalf of welcoming the Reichsminister, and he rounded up half a dozen Mercedes, Horch, and Opel Admiral automobiles to carry Speer from the railroad station to the Fulmar Electric Plant—or wherever else he might wish to go. He canceled all leave for the police and the SD. And he dressed in a new uniform.
By this time Peis was less motivated by the concerns of the Gauleiter than by more pressing and personal concerns of his own:
The Reichsminister would certainly be accompanied by a senior SS officer—at least an Obersturmbannführer (Lieutenant Colonel) and possibly even an Oberführer (Senior Colonel). If this officer found fault with his security arrangements for Reichsminister Speer, Peis could start packing his bags with his warmest clothes. There was always a shortage of Obersturmführers on the Eastern Front, and a long list of SS officers already there who had earned a sweet sinecure like the SS-SD detachment in Marburg an der Lahn. Peis had long before decided that it was far better to be a big fish in a little pond than the other way around.
Peis set up his security arrangements at about seven in the morning, soon after Schroeder had left him; he personally checked his arrangements twice; and he was at the Hauptbahnhof forty-five minutes before the scheduled arrival of the private train.
The train itself, though it rolled into the station on schedule to the minute, was otherwise a disappointment. To start with, it wasn’t actually a train. It was one car, self-propelled—not much more than a streetcar. And there were no senior SS officers to be impressed with the way Peis had handled his responsibilities. Only Reichsminister Speer and three others—all civilians, one a woman—stepped out of the car.
And even Speer himself wasn’t in uniform. He was wearing a business suit and looked like any other civilian.
After the Reichsminister and his party reached the platform, Karl-Heinz Schroeder, wearing his best party uniform, marched up and gave a stiff-armed Nazi salute, then launched into his welcoming speech. Speer made a vague gesture with his hand in reply to the salute and cut Schroeder off at about word five.
“Very good of you to say so, Herr Gauleiter,” Speer said, and then went quickly on. “I had hoped that Professor Dyer would be able to meet us.”
From the look on Schroeder’s face, it was obvious to Peis that Schroeder had never heard of Professor Dyer.
Peis had.
Unless there were two Professor Dyers, which was highly unlikely, Reichsminister Speer desired the company of a man who had one foot in a Konzentrationslager (concentration camp) and the other on a banana peel.
“Forgive me, Herr Reichsminister,” Schroeder said. “Professor Dyer?”
And then, Peis thought, Schroeder finally put his brain in gear. “Perhaps Obersturmführer Peis can help you. Peis!”
Peis marched over and saluted.
Speer smiled at Peis. “There was supposed to have been a message sent—” he began.
“I sent it, Herr Speer,” the woman said.
Speer nodded.
“—requesting Professor Friedrich Dyer to meet with me.”
“I have received no such message, Herr Reichsminister,” Peis said. “But I think I know where he can be found.”
“And could you bring him?” Speer asked.
“If I may be so bold as to suggest, Herr Reichsminister?” Peis said.
“Of course,” Speer replied.
“While you and your party accompany the Gauleiter, I’ll see if I can find Professor Dyer for you and take him to the Fulmar plant.”
“Good man!” Speer smiled and clutched Peis’s arm. “It’s quite important. I can’t imagine what happened to the telegram.”
“I’ll do my best, Herr Reichsminister,” Peis said.
Peis hurried to the stationmaster’s office and grabbed the telephone. He dialed the number from memory.
Gisella Dyer, the daughter (and the only reason Professor Dyer was not making gravel from boulders in a KZ somewhere), answered the phone on the third ring.
“How are you, Gisella?” Peis asked.
