Kidnap in Crete Page 18

  In Heraklion, Micky Akoumianakis rallied his men. Graffiti appeared on walls declaring ‘Kreipe befiehl wir folgen’ a parody of the Nazi phrase, ‘Führer befiehl wir folgen’ (‘Führer lead we will follow’). It implied that Kreipe, like General Carta, had allowed himself to be captured so that he could escape to Cairo and get out of the war, which he knew Hitler was losing. The graffiti were written in heavy gothic script as though painted by German soldiers wanting to desert and follow their general. The Cretans did not know that this black script was banned in Germany, having been condemned as Jewish.

  In the mountains, Paterakis went into Anogia to find Tyrakis and Leigh Fermor and lead them to the gulley. At the rendezvous Kreipe asked about his driver. Leigh Fermor told him the driver was fine and would join them in a few days.

  They ate a meal of boiled eggs, cheese and bread. Kreipe was given the codename Theophilos, so that he would not know when they were talking about him, and loaded on to a mule, which had been hired in the village. Then they set off, heading for the lair of the Kapitan Mihali Xylouris where they hoped to find Dunbabin and the radio with which they were going to contact SOE Cairo and organise the Royal Navy motor launch to pick them up. The journey would take all night and was made slower because the heavily laden mule had to be led along meandering goat tracks.

  By two in the morning, a long way short of their destination, they blundered into a sheepfold where the owner, an old shepherd, invited them to rest in his hut, a primitive conical, stone structure. Crawling through the tiny entrance they entered a small smoky room hung with cobwebs and bags of dripping whey; round the walls were wooden shelves on which lay cheeses, and beneath the shelves were stone seats. A bracken fire burnt in the middle. The shepherd offered them cheese and rock-hard bread, which they soaked in rough wine. Kreipe fell asleep, overcome by the heat of the fire and the food and drink. The others asked the shepherd to wake them in two hours, then they too fell into an exhausted slumber. The rest of the route would take them over the Ida Mountain, a ‘forbidden zone’. It was a place where many shepherds preferred to live, risking death by putting their knowledge of the caves, tracks and hiding places at the disposal of the guerrillas. After the short rest they pushed on.

  By dawn they could see the Lasithi mountains, the general on his mule silhouetted against them. Kreipe jolting along surrounded by the rag-tag andartes reminded Moss of the Emperor Napoleon leading the remains of the Grand Army back to France across the freezing wastes of the Russian steppe. The group’s progress was monitored and guarded by guerrillas hidden in the hills; they could be heard whistling to each other, signalling the band’s progress as they approached Kapitan Xylouris’s hideout. A lookout bounded down the hill, a beautiful young man with wild green eyes, who embraced them all, smiling and laughing and chattering in excitement. He was soon joined by others, more embraces, kisses and laughter. Kreipe was astonished at the affection the Cretans showed to the British officers – something he and his men had never experienced.

  They were led along a gulley to a cave concealed halfway up a rock face. In the entrance stood Kapitan Xylouris himself, a striking white-haired man with sparkling eyes and a lavish moustache. He was famed for his bravery and courage, and Leigh Fermor regarded him as ‘one of the best and most reliable leaders in Crete’. The kapitan embraced the two British agents and solemnly saluted Kreipe, who returned the salute with military dignity, trying not to look nervous, surrounded as he was by armed men dedicated to the overthrow of the Nazi regime. The hideout was crowded with many representatives of Anogian families; they had all come to see the prisoner.

  More English agents appeared from the darkness of the cave, including John Houseman, a former cavalry officer turned SOE man, who looked every inch the long-haired Cretan peasant; next to him stood a handsome man with a thick beard, long black boots, a dagger in his belt, which held up a pair of filthy breeches. His name was John Lewis, a British Army corporal under the command of Dunbabin. A third Englishman appeared, a wireless operator who had also been working with Dunbabin. The kidnappers were told about Dunbabin’s illness and that he had temporarily gone into hiding, though no one quite knew where he was.

  Then the situation got worse. The runner that Moss had sent off with the signal for Dunbabin appeared with the news that he had not got through: the British authorities had no idea that Kreipe had been captured and the BBC had not been instructed to broadcast that the general was off the island and on his way to Cairo. Moss became more and more angry that the RAF had failed to drop any pamphlets about the capture. He was baffled and confused by Tom Dunbabin’s disappearance and unexplained silence.

  Dunbabin’s wireless, which was at the cave, was faulty. Leigh-Fermor scribbled a new signal to be sent at once. The operator set to work but the radio started cutting out, then stopped working altogether. Unscrewing the cover plates to reveal the guts, they found that one of the valves was broken. The nearest replacement was in Cairo. The SOE had only two other transmitters on the island: Sandy Rendel’s and a set operated by another agent, Dick Barnes. Two more runners were immediately sent off with messages for Barnes and Rendel. The return trip to either radio would take nearly four days, and that made no allowance for the time Cairo took to reply. The man heading for Rendel would have to scale two mountain peaks.

  The runners vanished into the hills and a little while later the party who had been escorting the driver, Fenske, appeared: Nikos Komis, Chnarakis, Antonis Zoidakis and Antonios Papaleonidas. They had narrowly escaped capture and been delayed by German search parties, which were becoming more and more frequent. It was the machine guns of these patrols that Moss’s group had heard firing earlier in the day; the soldiers had fired at random into wooded areas. When he was asked what had happened to Fenske, Antonis Zoidakis became sheepish, unable to look anyone in the eye. He explained that the driver was too badly injured to make the journey and that he had been disposed of: he mimed whipping out his knife, slashing at a man’s throat and wiping his knife quickly on his trousers; he shrugged and asked what else could they do? He did not mention the head. Leigh Fermor told Kreipe that the driver was unharmed but, for his own safety, had been left in the hands of some guerrilla fighters in the hills, where he would stay until he had recovered from his injuries. Kreipe seemed satisfied.

  Later that afternoon, 29 April, the reconnaissance aircraft crept across the sky, dropping leaflets with another message from General Bruno Bräuer:

  NOTIFICATION

  Paid bandits under British leadership abducted a senior German officer on the night of 26th to 27th April. Without the support of a section of the urban population, which, as I have observed for some time, collaborates with the bandits and the traitors to the people, his abduction would never have been possible.

  For the past weeks the bandits have been brutally murdering, on the orders of their British and communist paymasters, Greek patriots who, for the good of the Cretan people and peace, security and future of Crete were working for greater Greece.

  I will from now on, with the utmost severity and the intervention of German arms, ruthlessly strike the guilty parties and exterminate them.

  This decision in no way alters the fact that I will also further attempt, in the spirit of the political pacification, peace and security of the population I have announced, to achieve a friendly co-existence of the Armed German forces and Cretans.

  The Commander of Fortress Crete

  General BRÄUER.

  That afternoon more lorries sped through the West Gate of Heraklion, heading into the White Mountains where the kidnappers were hiding. The spotter plane was now a permanent feature in the sky. The abductors waited, desperate for news of what was happening and what beach they were to head for.

  John Houseman spent some time trying to persuade Kreipe to allow himself to be photographed. Eventually he agreed, but said that Houseman must promise that the pictures would not be used by the press. The SOE man snapped away while the general set his jaw in g
rim defiance, adopting the pose of a conquered hero. Later they watched the guerrillas playing a game called ‘buzz buzz’, in which participants repeatedly slapped each other on the face; the point of the game was to see who could take the hardest knocks.

  As darkness fell, Kreipe, Leigh Fermor and Moss talked quietly, drawing on cigarettes. The cold was intense but they could not light a fire in case it drew German patrols. From the mouth of the cave they could see the snow on the peak of Mount Ida. Kreipe stared at it for some time and then began to recite quietly to himself an ode by Horace, beginning: ‘Vides ut alta stet nive candidum Soracte . . . (Lo Mount Soracte glitters deep in snow . . .).’ Leigh Fermor, who knew the ode by heart, joined in and completed the next five stanzas. He remembered that: the ‘general’s blue eyes swivelled away from the mountain-top and when I’d finished, after a long silence he said “Ach so Herr Major” it was very strange. “Ja Herr General”. As though for a moment the war had ceased to exist. We had both drunk at the same fountains long before; and things were different between us for the rest of our time together.’

  Eventually they tried to rest, Kreipe, Leigh Fermor and Moss huddled together under the only blanket they had, with ticks, fleas and vermin as companions. General Kreipe could not settle. Lewis gave him his own bedding and plied him with shots of raki; in the end the general nodded off, snoring heavily and still thrashing about. Two hours later Kreipe woke up and complained bitterly that the kidnappers had interrupted his sleep by kicking him.

  All the while Manolis Paterakis and Giorgios Tyrakis guarded the cave, sitting quietly, their automatic weapons at the ready in their laps.

  See Notes to Chapter 18

  19

  Situation Ugly

  The next afternoon the runner reached Sandy Rendel. Leigh Fermor’s message was sent at once to SOE Cairo, from where it was relayed to London, arriving on 30 April at 21.55. It read:

  General Heinrich Kreipe. RPT. KREIPE. kidnapped night 26 April by Major Leigh Fermor and Capt Moss. Now held in mountains. Hope evacuate party on three or four May. Germans dropped leaflets stating KREIPE RPT KREIPE captured by Greek bandits and threatening direst reprisals against villages and population if not surrendered within three days. ESSENTIAL RPT ESSENTIAL fullest possible broadcast made by all stations be made by midday tomorrow FIRST RPT FIRST May to effect that KREIPE RPT KREIPE captured by BRITISH RPT BRITISH party and ALREADY RPT ALREADY arrived in CAIRO RPT CAIRO. Most urgent as Cretan party report situation UGLY RPT UGLY.

  The request went from SOE Baker Street to the home of the BBC Overseas Service at Bush House in London’s Aldwych. It was from here that the BBC transmitted to the conquered peoples of Europe, and had become a beacon of truth and honesty, as well as a useful weapon in the endless war of deception being waged against the Axis powers.

  SOE emphasised the urgency of the request, asking for a broadcast to be made not later than noon the next day, Monday 1 May. The night duty officer realised that the request was urgent and serious but did not have the power to authorise the transmission. He rang the BBC Balkans Section for clarification and was told not to worry, ‘there was no point in trying to do anything during the night’. The message, which was headed ‘Most Urgent’, was placed in a tray to be worked through the next day.

  At 8.30 the next morning, Miss Barker, a BBC employee, set off from her digs in the World’s End, Chelsea to walk to work at Bush House. Her route took her along the Embankment north of the Thames and past evidence of the battering London had taken over the last few years from bombing and incendiary attacks: the ruins of Chelsea Old Church, next to it Jacob Epstein’s studio, now just a huge hole in the ground; Bush House itself bore the shrapnel scars of the two 800-pound bombs that had exploded nearby.

  Miss Barker was on the committee that liaised with SOE about special broadcasts. She reached her office at nine and began to sift through the signals that had come in during the night. Leigh Fermor’s urgent signal now read:

  Festungskommmandant Generaloberst Heinrich Kreipe kidnapped night 26th April . . . now held in mountains. Hope evacuate party on 3rd or 4th May. [The Germans] are threatening direst reprisals against villages and population if not surrendered within three days. Essential fullest possible broadcast that Kreipe captured by British party and already arrived in Cairo. Matter most urgent as Cretan party report situation ugly. Endeavouring arrange from here to drop leaflets this sense.

  At the same time, Lieutenant Colonel David Talbot Rice, Head of SOE’s Balkans desk and on the same committee as Miss Barker, read Leigh Fermor’s signal. He had been waiting anxiously all week for news that his agents were safe and that the kidnap mission had been successful. He was alarmed by the words ‘situation ugly’ and telephoned the senior officer on the liaison committee, and the man in charge of the Political Intelligence Department (the cover name for the Political Warfare Executive, which had offices at Bush House).

  By 10.30 that morning, Talbot Rice had failed to make contact with any person in authority. He decided to break protocol and contact the BBC direct, ringing his opposite number at the corporation and asking him to prepare a broadcast along the lines requested by Leigh Fermor. A transmission was scheduled for noon that day. Talbot Rice emphasised that the matter was of the greatest urgency but was forced to point out that nothing could be broadcast without authority from the Political Warfare Executive. In the meantime Miss Barker found her copy of the signal from Crete and immediately took it to the PWE offices; the officer there said he could not approve the transmission, but was willing for it to be referred to the Foreign Office, who could, if it chose, overrule him. Eventually an amended version of the broadcast was authorised and transmitted. It said that General Kreipe was being taken off the island; it did not say that he had already left and was in Cairo.

  At just after midday, Talbot Rice telephoned Miss Barker direct to ask her what was going on. She gave him the bad news about the amendment. Later that day Talbot Rice was reprimanded for breaking protocol. By now a frustrated and angry Talbot Rice explained his motives and sent a memorandum arguing that, in future, events like those of the last twenty-four hours should be handled at a higher level by people who had the authority to act without referring their decisions for approval.

  On Crete, Sandy Rendel sat in his hideout waiting to hear what arrangements were being made to pick up the kidnappers and their prisoner. While he waited he scribbled a note to Leigh Fermor:

  Dearest Paddy, the word congratulations seems pallid to what I feel inclined to say on reading your triumphant note – it’s almost the best true story I’ve yet heard. Bless you! And all the best of luck of course for the rest of the trip.

  We got your message off [...] today and are waiting for an answer now [...] when I will send Drake [codename for a runner] by one route which he knows and the elder of my other Manolis by another to confirm. I hope boat is on way. The messages may both get to you on time but possibly not I fear. As you know Huns are very thick on the ground. In any case the message has got there and I assume you act if it had. I hope you fixed signals beforehand. I sent an additional wire as follows.

  IF NOT. RPT. NOT FIXED WITH PADDY ALREADY SEND SIGS AND TIMINGS FOR HIS BOAT ALL STATIONS. RUNNER HERE MAY NOT. RPT NOT REACH PADDY BEFORE BOAT DUE. PLEASE CONFIRM BOAT WILL COME FOR FOLLOWING NIGHT AS WELL.

  The above is probably superfluous but in case you don’t get the message by the night and don’t go to the spot the boat comes that night, it still gives everyone a good chance I hope. My second messenger will go to Vasso first and try to find Tom’s haunts there and hence you – but I doubt if they can make it. Drake has good chance though everyone as you know is being stopped a good deal on the roads etc. Though tomorrow it may have all blown over.

  Just after midnight Cairo transmitted the time and place of rendezvous, enabling Rendel to finish his letter to Leigh Fermor:

  Later . . . we have only just got the answer [...]. They are sending a boat to Cape Melissa B605111. The message in so far
as it concerns you reads:

  BOAT CAPE MELISSA B605111 RPT 605111 THIRD FOURTH RPT THIRD FOURTH STOP CONTACT PADDY URGENTLY STOP EXCELLENT WORK STOP ALL SEND CONGRATULATIONS. YOUR NUMBER ONE SEVEN

  ‘Your number one seven’ was the second part of a message you asked me to send and was about leaflets broadcasts etc.

  In haste again – our very merriest and most complete congratulations from self, Giorgios and all you know here, love Sandy.

  Cape Melissa, the rendezvous beach, was just below the village of Agios Pavlos and was one of many beaches stretching along the south coast of the island. If it was cut off, or the arrangements changed, they might be able to find another, further west.

  Rendel wrote the message out twice and handed a copy to each of his two runners, who tucked the folded fragile tissue-like sheets into tight squares and tucked them into their turbans. Assuming there were no hitches and the runners were not captured or shot, it would take at least twenty-four hours to deliver the messages. The abductors would then have less than four days to cross some of the toughest terrain on the island, travelling through occupied territory, at night and leading by mule a lame, middle-aged German general who had no interest in getting to the rendezvous point on time.

  Leigh Fermor, in the knowledge that there were patrols everywhere and that they must keep moving up and over Mount Ida or be captured, decided to keep going towards Agios Pavlos and hoped that if things changed the runners could catch up with them.