The car turned into the drive. It had made little difference, he thought. Inge had no recollection of him. The house, the warm bed, food, and hot tea were enough. Whatever had been done to her in the camps had destroyed her already damaged mind. It was impossible for her to carry on even a short conversation; she had great difficulty composing the simplest sentence. His housekeeper, a taciturn Polish woman of middle age, assumed immediate care of her and even moved into the house to be with Inge at night. Bethwig found himself on several occasions studying this strange woman as she sat bundled in blankets on the enclosed porch, searching for even a vestige of the beauty that had so entranced him. But there was nothing left of her former self in this wasted frame. When she died quietly one night after a severe bout of coughing, he could only feel vast relief that she was now spared further agony. His consolation lay in Himmler’s defeat. Dornberger had persuaded Hitler himself to free von Braun, Gottrup and Mundt. Von Braun was now safe, by order of the Führer, and Inge was beyond reach.
Franz opened the door without waiting for the driver and stepped out. A sentry standing by the gate presented arms, and Bethwig turned to see the Gestapo officer Walsch stepping from the front seat of a touring car.
‘What is this man doing here?’
Walsch nodded towards the front of the house where another guard waited. ‘You are quite fortunate, Herr Doktor Bethwig. The Reichsführer takes great interest in your safety. It has been reported that a Russian assassination team has been sent into the area. The sentries will assure your safety.’
It was a barefaced lie, but Bethwig was too disgusted, too exhausted, to feel outrage. That fool Himmler should know by now that he could not be intimidated with threats to his life. Walsch, smiling now, continued. ‘Our counter-intelligence forces have established that the Russians have marked you and your family for murder, Herr Doktor. The Reichsführer has therefore extended the same protection to your father.’
The blow so stunned him that Bethwig could only gape. As if from a great distance, he heard Walsch explaining that precautions required that his father be placed in protective custody, that the Führer had personally approved the plan, and that the Reichsführer hoped he could now continue his work with his mind eased. Bethwig turned away and stumbled up the path as Walsch smiled and nodded after him.
‘I tell you, Franz, this may very well be our last opportunity.’ Von Braun kicked at the sand, then picked up a stone and hurled it towards the waves. It skipped twice and sank. ‘You can’t resign. You can’t give up now!’
Bethwig shook his head stubbornly. ‘I can and I will. If I have to leave Peenemunde, I’ll do so.’
Von Braun snorted. ‘Ever since that spy scare last summer, SS control has tightened like a noose. You could no more leave here than a front-line soldier could desert his unit.’
Bethwig shrugged, and von Braun muttered to himself in exasperation. ‘Damn it, Franz, you are badly needed here, now that Dornberger has been transferred to Berlin. Ever since that fool Keitel and the Army General Staff refused to support him a few months ago, it’s become clear the army is giving up all claim to rocket development… and Himmler is moving quickly to assume control. The attempt to kill the Führer only strengthened his hand.’ He stopped and swung around to face Bethwig. ‘You’ve met General Doktor Hans Kammler, the SS’s own wonder boy, and you know what he thinks of the work being done here. Well, tomorrow he assumes complete command of the programme and the Peenemunde facility.’
Bethwig looked at him in surprise. ‘How do you know this?’
‘My brother, Magnus, has a friend at OKW. A few days ago he was sent to General Buhle’s office to take notes on a meeting between Buhle and Kammler. Kammler described Walter as a public danger and told Buhle he ought to be court-martialled. Buhle refused, of course, but not strenuously.’
‘Degenkolb won’t stand for it,’ Bethwig protested. ‘Peenemunde is a private concern. That makes it immune to military takeover.’
‘Damn it, Franz, can’t you understand? This is not a military takeover. This is the SS. Himmler can do just about anything he pleases these days. It is said that even the Führer dare not oppose him now. My God, his personal bodyguard are SS troops. As for Degenkolb, when was the last time you saw him here? At least Kammler made one correct assessment when he described that man as a hopeless alcoholic.’
Bethwig shrugged.
Their walks had become much less frequent of late, and the conversation usually concerned political matters affecting their work. Rarely did they discuss technical or speculative matters related to science as they had done in years past.
