The Windsor Protocol Read online

  “You mean the current Duke of Windsor?” He waited for von Ribbentrop to nod affirmatively before replying. “No. I was briefly introduced to the Duchess. She was then Mrs Wallis Simpson, of course. It was at a charity ball in Cambridge.”

  Von Ribbentrop stared at Olbricht for a few moments and then spread his hands palms downward on his desk top.

  “What I have to say is a matter of the utmost secrecy. I am sure that you will understand this. In your work in the SD, have you heard of ‘Operation Willi’?”

  Olbricht shook his head negatively.

  “What is that?”

  “It is — was — a plan to escort the Duke of Windsor from Spain or Portugal and bring him to Germany.”

  Olbricht raised his eyebrows slightly.

  “As a hostage?”

  The Reichsminister smiled and shook his head.

  “The Duke, my dear Brigadefuhrer, is one of the most socially aware and right thinking Englishmen of our times. He is a good friend to Germany. The Fuhrer and I had long conversations with him in October, in ‘thirty-seven. The Duke and Duchess came as special guests of the Reich because we had long been aware that the Duke would be an invaluable friend and ally to Germany if he were in a position to be.”

  “How so?”

  “I shall place all the cards on the table, Brigadefuhrer. I warn you again that this is a matter of the topmost secrecy.”

  He paused, as if expecting Olbricht to comment and when he did not, he went on.

  “As you know, the Duke of Windsor was in France when we broke through the Maginot Line.”

  “So I recall,” interposed Olbricht drily. “The Duke carried the rank of a British major-general and acted as his country’s liaison officer with the French.”

  “Naturally. It would look strange if the Duke refused such an appointment from his country in the circumstances. When France fell, the Duke and Duchess made their way via the South of France to Spain. It was while the Duke was in Spain that the Fuhrer and I,” he seemed to savour the casual phrase for he paused and repeated it, “that the Fuhrer and I conceived a master stroke of policy. Through intermediaries we sounded out the views of the Duke. What we learned made us put ‘Operation Willi’ into effect.”

  He made a dramatic pause. Olbricht frowned, still trying to follow the Reichsminister’s exposition.

  “We sent three members of the Security Service directly to Spain to open negotiations with the Duke. There were two offers we could make to him. The first, and lesser offer, was to assure the Duke and Duchess safe passage to wherever they wanted to go plus a sum of fifty million Swiss francs if he would make an official gesture disassociating himself from the current refusal of the English Government, and Royal family, to discuss an armistice with us.”

  Olbricht blinked.

  “Would Windsor consider such a proposition?”

  Von Ribbentrop smiled complacently.

  “The Fuhrer and I know our man. Anyway, that, as I have said, was the lesser offer. The one we really hoped the Duke would take up was an invitation to come to Germany, placing himself under the protection of the Fuhrer. If the current English Government does not seek terms and Germany is forced to bring that country to its knees by force, then, within a short time, the Fuhrer will be in a position to offer the Duke something more tangible — he could put him firmly back on the throne from which he was forced to abdicate.”

  The Reichsminister sat back smiling at the look of incredulity on Olbricht’s face.

  “It has worked, this ‘Operation Willi’?” Olbricht asked.

  A flash of anger immediately wiped the triumphal smirk from von Ribbentrop’s face.

  “No. Oberfuhrer Schellenberg took two agents to Spain and opened negotiations. Knowing how influenced the Duke was by the Duchess, it was thought best to make the approach via her. Her dislike of the Duke’s family is known to us, particularly her dislike of the Duke’s mother, Queen Mary, and her sister-in-law, Queen Elizabeth. Time was running out, however, because the English Government had appointed the Duke as Governor of the Bahamas, an appointment which was obviously designed to get him away from any influence in European affairs.

  “We signalled Schellenberg to risk his own life in circumventing the English plan to stop the Duke being transported to the Bahamas. Meanwhile, the Duke and Duchess had been forced to move to Lisbon in Portugal to get their ship. A friend of the Duke’s, Sir Walter Monckton, was sent to Lisbon to ensure that he left. The Fuhrer attached the greatest importance to this operation. After the most serious consideration he sent expressly to Schellenberg to say that if the Duke was hesitating about the invitation, he, himself, would have no objection to Schellenberg helping the Duke to reach the right decision by coercion — even to the threat of force if the circumstances made it advisable. However, above all, Schellenberg was to make sure that the Duke and Duchess were not exposed to personal danger.”

  Von Ribbentrop paused, drumming his fingers on the desk top.

  “What happened?” prompted Olbricht, filled with curiosity.

  “Schellenberg fouled up the operation! The British secret service were in Lisbon in force and there was no way that he could get near the Duke and Duchess to arrange their transfer to German custody. He neither acted decisively nor quickly enough and let the prize be taken from him without even a fight.”

  “The Oberfuhrer is an excellent officer,” Olbricht pointed out, feeling he should defend his RHSA comrade, whom he knew well enough. “If Schellenberg says that it couldn’t be done, then it couldn’t be done.”

  The Reichsminister smiled coldly.

  “I hope that isn’t a statement of premature defeat, Herr Brigadefuhrer?”

  Olbricht frowned.

  “I do not understand.”

  “You will take over this operation. You will be in sole command and ensure its success.”

  Olbricht’s jaw dropped a little.

  “But I thought that the Duke and Duchess had already sailed for the Bahamas?”

  Von Ribbentrop’s lips thinned a little.

  “True enough. But the Fuhrer has issued personal orders that the Duke and Duchess of Windsor be brought back from the Bahamas in Germany custody. You, Herr Brigadefuhrer, will accomplish that task.”

  Olbricht sat upright, hands squeezing his knees, contemplating the audacity of the scheme. To snatch the Duke and Duchess from a British colony…why, that would be one of the most impudent operations ever carried out; that was truly Draufgangertum — go-getting! It would really set the cat among the pigeons and cause some red faces in high places in London. And the man who could accomplish such a task…why, there would be nothing his grateful country and Fuhrer would not give him in reward.

  The Reichsminister had stood up and walked to the window, gazing out at the chaste grey buildings of the Wilhelmstrasse.

  “The Duke is still a powerful figure in England. He is far more popular than his brother, George, will ever be. Just think what can be done with the Duke in our hands, Olbricht!”

  He swung round and stared evenly at the Bridgadefuhrer.

  “At this moment, Field Marshal Walther von Brauchitsch is waiting at the French Channel ports with thirty-nine infantry divisions and two airborne divisions. A total of two-hundred-and-sixty thousand men backed by tanks and artillery. He is waiting for the word from the Fuhrer to commence ‘Operation Seelöwe’ — the invasion of England itself.

  “We believe that it is indispensable to have the Duke in our hands before the commencement of that operation. Once that operation goes ahead, and once our troops have secured a footing in southern England, the Duke will be declared King again — once more he will be Edward VIII.”

  A childhood spent in North America caused Olbricht to react by sitting back in his chair and letting out a long, low whistle.

  It was a very American gesture and the Reichsminister smiled complacently at the effect his statement had on the SS officer.

  “The Fuhrer knows that the Duke’s populari
ty among the ordinary English people would cause them to flock to his cause. It will break their resolve to continue the war against Germany. At the very least, England will be split by civil war — those who support the Duke, of which there are many and in prominent places, and those sheep who will go down to defeat with Churchill and King George. That is one of the major strategies behind the Fuhrer’s approval of the ‘Seelöwe’ operation. Without the Duke, the cost of invading and occupying England would be a far more expensive venture.”

  Von Ribbentrop was looking smug as he paused to congratulate himself on the grand strategy. He had spent some time briefing the Fuhrer on the strategy and history of the Bourbon kings of France who, in the eighteenth century, had attempted to keep England weak by fostering civil war with a struggle for the crown between the Stuarts and Hanovers.

  “How far has this plan been thought through?” Olbricht ventured.

  “Thoroughly,” von Ribbentrop assured him promptly. “We even have a plan to circumvent, if possible, the prospect of the current Royal family obtaining sufficient support to defeat the Duke’s faction by simply eliminating them.”

  Olbricht gazed at him expectantly. It sounded too fantastic.

  But nothing loathed, von Ribbentrop continued.

  “At the moment our troops start landing on the English beaches, a special task force will be parachuted into London. We know, from the BBC and British press, that the Royal family have announced their intention to stay in their capital. Our intention is to drop a kommando of paratroopers on or near Buckingham Palace and seize them as hostages.”

  Olbricht’s eyes widened in astonishment at the Reichsminister’s animated features.

  “Drop troops into London before our ground troops have approached the city?” His tone did not conceal his incredulity.

  Von Ribbentrop gestured impatiently.

  “The details have been worked out, the troops trained and orders given. Hauptsturmfuhrer Otto Begus and twenty-three hand-picked SS officers of the parachute division have been given the task.”

  Olbricht slowly began to see the logic. He had met Begus several times. He was a craggy-faced, forty-year-old Austrian of short, stocky build, who had won a reputation in SS circles a few months before for leading a daring raid on Ruygenhoek, the residence of Queen Wilhelmina of Holland. His task had been to kidnap the Queen, the idea apparently coming from the Fuhrer himself. However, a mere thirty minutes before Begus and his men parachuted on Ruygenhoek, Queen Wilhelmina had escaped in a British destroyer, HMS Hereward. While Begus’ support troops had suffered heavy casualties, his special kommando had escaped and were quickly picked up by the advancing German land forces.

  “So Begus is being asked to repeat his mission to snatch the Dutch Queen…except this time, it is the British Royal family who are to be captured?”

  Von Ribbentrop was smiling broadly like a child whose intelligence is being applauded.

  “And this time he will succeed.”

  “With just twenty-three men dropping onto Buckingham Palace?” Olbricht was still slightly incredulous.

  The Reichsminister stifled a sigh of annoyance.

  “No. Our Stukas will take out the anti-aircraft batteries around Buckingham Palace — Hyde Park, Green Park and St James’s Park. Then four hundred parachute troops will drop from low flying aircraft into the parks supported by machine-guns, mortars and automatic weapons. Their job will be to hold up defending troops. Another one hundred will drop directly into the grounds of the palace, including Begus’ kommando. Their immediate task will be to secure the persons of King George, Queen Elizabeth, the two Royal Princesses and Queen Mary.”

  “What about the probability of a British counterattack?” demanded Olbricht. “There would not be enough troops to ensure an adequate defence until our ground troops entered London.”

  “The royal captives are to be placed in one room. The Fuhrer considers that once this has been done there will be no counter-attack. Once the palace and Royal family are in German hands, the English will not attack for fear of harming the Royal family.”

  “How does this fit in with the Duke of Windsor?”

  “It lessens the chances of British resistance to our plans. With the Royal family in our hands the English will have no focus of opposition against re-establishing the Duke as King. On the other hand,” here Von Ribbentrop smirked cynically, “if King George wants to cooperate with us, then the Duke becomes superfluous. Whatever way, we still win. However, my personal reading of the situation is that King George will not cooperate and that the Duke of Windsor will be the new King. I am certain that we can trust the Duke rather than his brother and that arrogant little queen of his.”

  Olbricht detected some vindictiveness in von Ribbentrop’s voice. He then recalled that the Reichsminister had once been humiliated during the time he had served as the Reich’s ambassador to London. He had greeted King George and Queen Elizabeth with the outstretched right hand National Socialist salute and the Royal family made no attempt to hide their displeasure. Von Ribbentrop had been held up to ridicule in the British press and von Ribbentrop was a man who bore grudges.

  However, Olbricht’s mind turned over the plan very carefully. In spite of his reservations, Olbricht was generally impressed. It was a strategy which had tremendous possibilities. Moreover, it appealed to his vanity. If he was able to carry off such a coup…

  “And how am I to bring the Duke and Duchess to Germany?” he asked, returning his mind to practicalities. “Stop their ship on the high seas?”

  Von Ribbentrop shook his head.

  “The Duke and Duchess will be in Bermudan waters within the next few days. A few days more and they will be in the Bahamas. We have already dispatched a U-Boat to the islands to make contact with our agents there. It will await your orders. The U-Boat will be your means of transportation home. In the meantime, you are in sole charge of the operation. I have prepared a file of agents who can be used in the Caribbean as well as our contacts in the Bahamas. But the less people know about your ultimate objective the better. And how you accomplish the mission is your responsibility. But accomplish it you must and have the Duke in German custody by September 19 and no later than September 26.”

  “Why those particular dates, Herr Reichsminister?”

  “Because those are the dates which the OKW, Army High Command, have designated as the launch dates for the invasion of England.”

  Olbricht rose to his feet slowly and took up the folder from the desk where von Ribbentrop had laid it.

  “Is there anything else I need to know in connection with this operation…‘Operation Willi’?”

  “Let us call this new stage of it ‘Operation Konigtum’,” replied the Reichsminister. “Yes, Operation Kingship has a more distinguished ring. No, Olbricht. You are now possessed of the relevant facts. All I can do is stress again just how important the Fuhrer considers this mission. It must not fail.”

  “Then one more thing,” said Olbricht, as he hesitated at the door. “Do you have information as to whether the Duke will now come to Germany willingly or unwillingly?” Von Ribbentrop’s austere face was serious as he considered the question and then he spoke quietly.

  “Our last information, based on the most recent talks our intermediaries have had with the Duke and Duchess, is that he will be a very willing passenger on the U-Boat. Yes; very willing.”

  CHAPTER III

  Thursday, August 15, 1940

  Jack Patterson smothered a yawn and looked up as the door of his small office, which was situated on the top floor of Broadcasting House, opened. A skinny looking youth, in his shirt sleeves, bearing a large brown envelope in one hand, entered.

  “‘Evening, Mister Patterson,” the lad greeted him, thrusting the envelope forward. “The controller says this one’s for urgent decoding and translation.”

  Patterson was one of several anonymous civilians who worked on the top floor of the British Broadcasting Corporation’s headquarters in Portland
Place. They were not exactly employees of the BBC but used the Corporation’s facilities to monitor broadcasts from Europe. More particularly, it was the task of Patterson’s section to monitor and decode radio transmissions from British agents in Spain and Portugal. Six months before, Jack Patterson had simply been a middle-aged teacher of modern Romance languages at a south London grammar school. Now his days were spent working shifts, in a room hardly larger than a broom cupboard, employing his skills to decode and translate broadcasts.

  “They are all urgent, Mickey, my lad,” replied Patterson with another smothered yawn. He leaned back and stretched in his chair.

  The young man grinned and dropped the envelope onto the desk.

  Patterson drew a packet of Woodbine cigarettes from his pocket, took one out and lit it languorously.

  “What’s it like out?”

  There were no windows in his tiny office but Patterson was not exactly referring to the weather conditions.

  Mickey shrugged his shoulders.

  “The raids are still continuing, Mister Patterson. The German aircraft are over Croydon at the moment. They say Dorniers are bombing West Mailing. A lot of buildings have been hit.”

  Patterson’s office was sound-proofed and therefore insulated against the distant din of the air raid.

  “Well, at least Adolf hasn’t dropped in on us,” he said cheerfully.

  August 15 had been widely mentioned in the German propaganda broadcasts as the day of the invasion — Der Tag…The Day. Now it was the subject of a joke. The newspaper seller at the door of Broadcasting House in Portland Place had put up a notice on his board — “Der Tag; August 15 — and he’s only in Madame Tussaud’s!”

  It was not quite correct, for the German Fuhrer’s wax-work had long since been removed from public display. However, it raised a tired smile or two.

  The young messenger forced a grin.

  “It’s been the worst day so far, though.”

  Patterson nodded. He knew from the last BBC newscast, an hour ago, that this must have been one of the toughest days so far in the battle for mastery of the skies over London between the Luftwaffe and the RAF. The raids had started late in the morning and news had come in that the Germans had initially made concentrated attacks on the north-east coast from Newcastle-upon-Tyne down to Driffield and then on airfields in Essex and Kent. That evening, for the first time, Dorniers had bombed the airfield at Croydon in spite of Hitler’s much publicised order for the Luftwaffe to avoid bombing the Greater London area. The BBC were claiming 182 German losses for only 24 RAF aircraft shot down. In reality the official figures would show 71 Luftwaffe aircraft destroyed and 19 damaged while the RAF had sustained 12 destroyed, 17 missing presumed destroyed and 13 damaged.