Chapter 22
After a seemingly endless train journey, Knut finally arrived in Bern.
He travelled in civilian clothes, under the code name Hellwig, to meet with the chief of the Swiss Immigration Police.
Aware of the gravity of his responsibility, Knut gnawed anxiously at his lower lip as he checked in at the hotel.
“Gruezi, Herr Hellwig, enjoy your stay.” Outwardly, the young receptionist looked just like the women in German hotels, yet she seemed to radiate a rare contentment Knut hadn’t seen in years.
“Thank you very much.”
Knut’s thoughts whirled as he involuntarily grasped his case tighter. He was reluctant to put the case into the hands of strangers, but there was no way around it if he didn’t want to appear eccentric. “Thank you.”
“Shall I show you the room?”
“Thank you, that won’t be necessary.”
On opening the door to his room, he was delighted with the comfort that awaited him.
The room itself was spartan – the Abwehr didn’t have an unlimited budget for official trips and Switzerland was expensive – but the sheet on the bed was fresh and a brilliant white.
In the corner stood a small round table with a chair.
On the table was a vase of brightly colored summer flowers and a bowl with a rare delicacy: a neatly wrapped chocolate with “Lindt and Sprüngli” printed on the wrapper.
Knut couldn’t hold back a smile as he brushed his fingers reverently over the chocolate, a luxury that hadn’t been available in the German Reich for a long time.
Shortly after, a knock came at the door and a page, barely twenty years old, handed him his case with a cheerful smile.
For Knut, the moment was like having scales fall from his eyes, as he realized what had seemed so different about the receptionist. It was the contented cheerfulness of a nation not at war.
He handed the page a tip and bolted the door as soon as he was alone. To be honest, he was incredibly nervous. Much depended on his meeting tomorrow with the chief of the Swiss Immigration Police: without Swiss consent to taking in the Seven – at least temporarily – the entire operation would fail.
The next morning, Knut got up early and made his way to the agreed meeting point, where the chief of the Swiss Immigration Police was waiting.
“Good morning, Herr Hellwig.”
“Thank you for finding the time to see me, Herr Steiner,” Knut replied.
“May I offer you a coffee?”
Knut nodded in delight. He had prepared himself for a less good-humored meeting. They chatted a little about the weather until the secretary showed up with two cups of real coffee. Once she had closed the door behind her, Herr Steiner asked, “Herr Hellwig, what brings you here?”
Knut’s contact, Hans Bernd Gisevius had arranged the meeting and hinted at the reason, but had refrained from mentioning the Abwehr’s involvement.
“It’s a humanitarian mission.” Knut leaned back and studied the expression on the face of the man opposite him, trying to guess his thoughts. But he remained impassive. “My clients are interested in bringing a group of people and their families to safety.”
“You mean Jews?” The emphasis Steiner placed on the word ‘Jews’ indicated that he found it distasteful.
“Yes. I’m sure you know—”
Steiner waved away Knut’s objection. “I’m well informed. How many individuals are we talking about?”
“Nine. Seven adults and two minors.”
“I appreciate your efforts, Herr Hellwig, believe me. But my hands are tied.” Steiner folded his hands, as if to indicate that he was indeed wearing shackles.
Knut bit his tongue. He didn’t want to lay his cards on the table so early, instead he preferred to wait to see whether the other side would offer something.
The silence dragged on for an almost unbearable length of time.
Knut felt as though it would tear the words right out of his mouth. Yet he held firm.
Finally, Herr Steiner cleared his throat.
“Our country is small. We have already taken in more refugees than our economy can support.” That was a blatant lie, underscored by a frantic twitch of the eye.
“The boat is full. Switzerland has reached full capacity. Any further refugees escaping racial persecution would inevitably sink the entire nation.” Herr Steiner at least had the decency to look contrite.
But Knut hadn’t undertaken the long journey to give up without a fight.
With Emil’s word’s echoing in his mind, he said, “I quite understand your position. Every nation has limited resources. Penniless refugees are a burden on the state and threaten to collapse a fragile equilibrium, with fatal consequences for millions of people. However, if said refugees possessed the financial means to provide for themselves?” Knut said, testing the ground.
Herr Steiner’s expression brightened. “Well. This country isn’t governed by brutes.
We have great sympathy for all persecuted people, regardless of their race.
If the people under your protection can prove they have appropriate means to support themselves…
” Herr Steiner gave a lengthy pause, whereas Knut forced himself to wait in silence to see whether an offer would be forthcoming.
“Assuming the financial situation was clarified, I’d speak to the cantonal representatives to obtain a commitment from one of them to temporarily take in these refugees. ”
Knut exhaled slowly. Their negotiation seemed to be heading in the right direction. Now he had to tease out the sum the Swiss would demand. “That’s extremely accommodating of you. Approximately what amount would you have in mind?”
Herr Steiner, too, was well-versed in negotiations. He rubbed the base of his nose with a finger before answering slowly, emphasizing each word. “That would depend on the length of their stay in our country.”
“The persons concerned already have visas for South America and intend to continue the journey to their final destination as soon as possible.” That wasn’t true, but obtaining the visas wasn’t a problem.
Herr Steiner tilted his head from side to side.
“Our country is surrounded by mountains. The ports for passenger ships crossing the Atlantic Ocean are in Spain or Portugal. Several countries have to be crossed, travel permits, transit visas, tickets and suchlike will be needed. All of that will take time.”
“My clients are ready to offer every assistance in obtaining the necessary documents. How long do you think this will take?” said Knut, elegantly knocking the ball back into Herr Steiner’s court.
The man rubbed the base of his nose again, as though the answers lay hidden underneath.
With exasperating slowness, he finally said, “Six months, maybe a year. Depending on the war, it could take much longer.” Then he shook his head.
“It is impossible to say with any degree of certainty. We must expect that in a worst-case scenario, it might take years.”
Put your cards on the table already. Mentally, Knut urged the other man to hurry, while outwardly he didn’t move a muscle. “Forecasting the future is indeed a tricky business.”
Finally, Herr Steiner seemed to come to a conclusion. His expression relaxed. “I think a hundred thousand dollars would be appropriate.”
Knut all but fell off his chair. Only his years of military drill saved him from pulling a shocked face and betraying his inner turmoil to Herr Steiner. “That’s a lot of money.”
The Abwehr would never be able to raise such a huge sum in foreign currency – especially not for an operation that officially didn’t exist.
“As I said, the boat is full, and if I may stay with the analogy: our nation unfortunately can only accommodate people who bring their own lifeboat.” Herr Steiner seemed to think for a moment, before he shook himself visibly.
“The one hundred thousand US dollars is, of course, the amount for the entire group.”
“That’s very accommodating of you.” Knut gave a hint of a bow. “I will take your proposal to my client. You’ll receive our response within a week via Herr Gisevius.”
“I shall wait. Thank you.” Herr Steiner stood and shook Knut’s hand in farewell.
Before he knew it, he was standing outside on a sunny, warm street in the center of Bern.
Torn between relief, anger and anxiety, he walked in the direction of the famous bear pit in Bern’s historic old town.
There were so many visitors thronging around the pit that Knut was about to move on, when suddenly a shout went up: “Here he comes!”
Curious, Knut hunted for a place where he could see into the bear pit, just as a white-haired man with a goatee and a black hat with the inscription “B?renw?rter Gardien des Ours” stepped into the pit.
“That’s Rudolf Grassenbacher,” someone said next to Knut. “He loves the bears like his own children.”
A moment later, a gate opened, and four cute, playful bear cubs bounded into the pit, before they turned to the bear-keeper to be fed.
The crowd held its breath as a particularly cheeky young bear stood on its hind legs and begged.
It braced itself against the guard and tried to grab the food from his hand.
The untroubled cheerfulness of the crowd made Knut feel wistful again.
What would it be like to live here with Bernd, carefree and happy?
In its third year of the war, such cheerfulness wasn’t found in Germany.
After checking his watch, he returned to the hotel, where he had left his case at the reception desk.
After a friendly farewell, the receptionist called a taxi, which drove him to the train station, to start the long journey by night train back to Berlin.
On arrival, he intended to immediately visit the Bendlerblock, since they had to raise the extortionate sum of one hundred thousand dollars as soon as possible.
Haste was essential: Knut feared the Swiss might withdraw their promise of transit visas if it took too long.
Though he didn’t have the faintest idea where the necessary assets might come from.