Invisible Enemy
A Short Story by Ernest N.Whitenack
~ CHAPTER
TEN ~
Previously:
Erich Graff backed his Mercedes out of the garage but he was not looking
forward to his drive at all. He was nervous and frightened. What he was
planning could end in summary execution should he not be able to pull
it off. To say the least, defection is frowned upon. His only hope was
to make contact with the right people and get the whole thing settled
before he had to report to Stallman, or Stallman contacted him.
Graff continued to worry and imagined every scenario that could possibly
happen in Mittenwald.
“This is foolish”, he said to himself and turned on the
car radio.
He found a broadcast of a lively Polka band and increased the volume
hoping to get his mind off what might happen. It didn’t help and
he turned the radio off and tried to convince himself that all will work
out well.
Upon entering the B18 Clancy immediately noticed the lane signs posting
the legal minimum speed of 110 km/h (68 mph) on the left and 90 km/h (56
mph) on the center lane and 60 km/h (37 mph) in the right lane. This was
all new to Clancy; added since he was last in Germany. He settled into
the center lane and quickly brought the Porsche up to 90 mph; thoroughly
enjoying the precision of the rented car. As he became more used to the
auto, he ventured into the left lane and gradually pushed the engine to
122 mph and marveled at the ease of handling and engine smoothness of
the relative small car.
The Austrian border crossings were not a problem – in and out of
Austria in about forty minutes. The mountains, as he got closer to them,
seemed to pop out of the morning haze. The sun appeared to accentuate
their craggy structure, and caused the snow covered peaks to glisten.
“As nice as New Hampshire is”, he thought, “I have
never seen anything as majestic as the Alps. I sure wish Alma were here.”
A sign directed him off the Autobahn and forced him to slow when the
road narrowed, climbed and became winding as he got closer to the mountains.
He pulled into a turn-off and stopped; looked out over the land at the
deep valleys nestled between the high peaks with villages dotting the
road that ran through the valley. He made a promise of returning for a
vacation with Alma soon.
He left the car, lit his pipe and wished he had purchased a camera. Clancy
sat on a bench overlooking the postcard scene before him for a half hour
or so. He cleaned the ash from his pipe and continued on toward Mittenwald
thinking about getting a camera and a weapon with some power.
The road continued to wind, and at times steeply declined, as he neared
Mittenwald. He came around a sharp turn and was greeted by a view of the
valley that held the town of Mittenwald. Several miles on, a sign indicated
the turn to Mittenwald center.

As he entered the town he passed the Town Hall resplendent with religious
murals over its outer surface. He spotted the travel office and pulled
into the closest parking spot; raised the top, locked the car and headed
for the travel office. The town was pure Bavaria and looked like a picture
out of Hansel and Gretel.
“I guess this is what they mean by The Gingerbread Road”,
Clancy thought.
As he approached the travel office he looked around and wondered if it
could be a holiday. The streets were crowded with people and the tourist
season has passed. Skiing hasn’t really started yet except high
in the mountains by the most expert skiers. Clancy stopped before entering
the travel office, leaned against its wall and looked around to get the
lay of the land in case he needed to move quickly around that area of
the town; also taking note of any one else just hanging around.
A cow bell rang twice as he opened the door and entered the travel office.
The office was empty save for a family of four with the mother attempting
to keep two young boys in tow. They took no notice of Clancy who approached
the opposite end of the counter just as a young man appeared through a
sliding door carrying an arm full of travel folders.
“Good morning sir. May I help you?” He asked in a heavy
Bavarian accent.
Clancy answered in his best High German. “Yes you may. I need
a hotel, five stars if you have one, a good comprehensive map of the
area and the park, and finally, some information about Mittenwald, and
things to see here.”
“In a moment sir. I will call someone to serve you. I am busy
with a customer”, the young man replied.
The man approached the family, said a few words and disappeared into
another room. Shortly an older man appeared and approached Clancy with
his hand out and a salesman’s smile.
“Welcome to Mittenwald sir. Come to my office please, and we
will find you a suitable hotel. I can also take care of any other requests
you might have.”
Clancy thought he detected an accent in the man’s otherwise perfect
German but decided he needed to hear more before he was sure. He followed
the man and noted his steady stride and upright bearing.
They walked to the back of the store passing vivid posters on the walls
depicting Germany, Austria and Switzerland in all seasons of the year.
In the office, both men comfortably seated, Clancy repeated his request
for a hotel and information. The man listened intently while studying
Clancy’s face.
“I am sorry to say that we have no five star hotels in Mittenwald.
However, we have several four stars that I can personally vouch for.
The rooms and service are first class and the food is the best, be it
German or international dishes. One of them, Hotel Ghasthof, is centrally
located and we have received good reports from travelers we have booked
in there. If you want to explore the town I would strongly suggest it.
For skiing, one of the outlying hotels is better.”
“That should be fine. I’m not much of a down-hill skier.
I prefer cross-country but doubt if I will be skiing at all as I injured
my big toe jumping over a fence”. Clancy said.
The man behind the desk seemed to straighten in his chair a bit upon
hearing of Clancy’s toe. He got up, walked to a small safe and removed
a small picture; returned and held the picture in front of him for several
seconds thinking, “This could be Clancy”.
“It is said, a warm vinegar wrap helps take the pain away”
he replied answering the Platoon recognition code.
Clancy stood and reached across the desk and shook the man’s hand
saying in English,
“I’m Ian Clancy. I think you’ve been expecting me.”
"I’m Warrant Officer Fred Eulund, very happy to meet you
Major Clancy. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you."
“Let’s get things straight right off, Fred. First, I am
no longer in the military. Second I was never a Major. I retired as
a Captain. Third, how in hell do you know the Platoon recognition codes?”
“I’ll be retiring in a couple of years and was recruited
by the Platoon, along with several other agencies. I picked the Platoon
and was given TDY to undergo Platoon training. When I returned to my
job at CIC headquarters in Munich, I was assigned here, under cover,
to function basically as do your two previous contacts, and to identify
those looking for Hitler’s treasure. I have to keep an eye on
those we already know as well as spotting any of the supervisors who
might come to town”. I also work closely with the CIC, Military
Police and German Police in Garmisch-Partenkirchen concerning the spy
problem. It’s difficult at times maintaining my front as a travel
agent and keeping up with all that is going on. But, I should be getting
more help from the CIC soon”.
“Oh! By the way, your Army commission was activated and you
were promoted to Major the instant you stepped off the plane in Germany.
Being this far into the assignment, I’m surprised you didn’t
know that. No one told you?”
“Had I been told, I would not be here now; which is probably the
reason they didn’t tell me. I would be back in New Hampshire helping
my wife plan for Thanksgiving.”
“I think I might be pretty ticked if that were done to me”.
Fred said. “I can understand your frustration. But now, let’s
get some lunch and make plans for your activities here. Grab a bunch
if these folders and carry them when we leave.”
Outside the office Clancy and Eulund turned right as Eulund said, “There
is a very good bakery/coffee shop/café on the next street over.
How does that sound?”
“Fine with me”. Clancy answered as they turned right again
down a narrow cobbled walkway.
They traveled about twenty feet when Clancy heard a slight shuffling
sound behind him and turned quickly to see two men struggling over what
appeared to be an old M1 bayonet. The blade dropped to the cobbles with
a loud clinking sound as the assassin was subdued by a Judo throw and
subsequent choke hold with a knee to the middle of his back. The action
took less time than it took Clancy to retrieve his weapon from the leg
holster. Clancy and Eulund approached the pair on the ground and Clancy,
highly surprised, proclaimed:
“I know that man on top.”
“Henry Otto!” Clancy exclaimed, “Where in the world
did you come from and what are you doing here. I haven’t heard
from you since 1947”
Copyright © Ernest N. Whitenack 2016

Chapters: Ch
1 | Ch 2 | Ch
3 | Ch 4 | Ch
5 | Ch 6 | Ch
7 | Ch
8 | Ch 9 | Ch
10 | Ch 11 | Ch
12 | Ch 13 | Ch
14 | Ch 15 | Ch
16 | Ch
17 | Ch
18

Ernie Whitenack was born in 1928 in Springfield,
Illinois and moved to Massachusetts in the mid 1930's. He is a Korean
War veteran, worked as a photographic illustrator for 43 years and is
now retired.
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