Tell Me Who I Am by Julia Navarro
“Can I take these with me?”
“It would be dangerous. The Gestapo has eyes and ears everywhere and they may know more about our group than may appear. Trust no one. It’s better if these documents never leave this room, for their own safety and for ours.”
Amelia settled down to read these documents again, trying to memorize even the smallest details. The man who had put this plan together had calculated the number of ships that would be needed to take all the German Jews from Germany to Madagascar, as well as the support vessels that would be necessary. The documents also gave details of the German navy’s current capacity. It could be vital information for the Admiralty, so Amelia reaffirmed in her mind her decision to go back to London at once.
“Thank you for trusting in me, Herr Kasten,” she said after she had finished reading the papers.
“I am a Christian, Amelia, and I think I am a good German, and I hate what certain people are doing to my country. Deporting the Jews! Putting them on an island as if they were contagious!”
It was late when Amelia got back to the Kellers’ house. Greta was asleep and her husband was in the kitchen, going through some account books.
Amelia said that she was thinking about going home.
“Has anything happened?” Helmut asked.
“No, but you know that my sister Antonietta is unwell and I don’t want to be away from her for too long. But I will come back, Herr Helmut, and if you would be willing to carry on renting me the room then I would be very grateful. I think I could perhaps find work in Berlin, I have met some people who are in need of a fluent Spanish speaker. You know that our two countries are allies, ever since Hitler and Franco decided to work together...”
Helmut Keller agreed. He had never spoken of politics with Amelia; the two of them had avoided any mention of what had happened. He was surprised that Amelia did not mention Nazism, especially since the new regime had caused her father to lose his fortune, but he didn’t dare speak openly in front of her about his hatred of the Führer, because he knew all too well that children don’t inherit their parents’ ideas. His son, Frank, seemed to be happy in the army; he said that Hitler was giving Germany back its greatness. They had argued about this at first, but then they had avoided the topic so as not to upset Greta, who did not like to see them argue.
Over the next few days, Amelia took her leave of Professor Karl Schatzhauser, Father Müller, and the rest of the opposition group. She told them she would be back soon. She also made a decision: She made her confession to Father Müller, and in it included the fact of her collaboration with the British.
“That’s not a sin,” he scolded her.
“I know, but I need to be sure that you won’t share this information with anyone.”
“I cannot, the confessional brings with it the obligation of complete confidentiality,” he replied with annoyance. “Now tell me, why have you confessed this?”
“Because I need help, as well as to trust in someone.”
The next day she went to the priest’s house. She showed him how to encode relevant information and she asked him to send anything he found out in an apparently innocuous letter to the same Madrid address where she sent all her own letters.
“With this code, anyone who opens your letters will think that you are writing to an old friend.”
“And shouldn’t you tell someone else as well, in case anything happens to me?” Father Müller asked worriedly.
“Nothing is going to happen to you, and in any case, it’s not a good idea for too many people to know this system. Don’t forget that these letters will go to Madrid, where there are already lots of German spies. We could put the person who receives the letters in danger.”
Father Müller took Amelia to the station and helped her to get settled in her compartment, which to their relief she was to share with a woman with three small children.
“When are you coming back?” the priest wanted to know.
“It doesn’t depend on me... If it did, then I would be back very soon: I think I can be useful in Berlin.”
Amelia was not going to Madrid, but to Lisbon, which was the most convenient point from which to travel to London. She knew that the English capital was undergoing bombardment by the Germans, and that this was causing a great deal of suffering and loss, both material and human, and she was keen to find Albert and see that he was alright.
She stayed in a little hotel near the port in Lisbon. It was no accident that she chose this place. Major Murray had given her the address and told her that if she needed help or wanted to get in touch with him, then the owner of the hotel would be able to contact the relevant people.
The Hotel Oriente was small and clean, and its owner was British, a man named John Brown, who was married to a Portuguese woman, Doña Mencia. Amelia thought that they both must work for the British Secret Service.
She told them that she wanted to travel to London, and asked them the best way to do so. She used the pass-phrase that Murray had given her: “I have business to attend to, but most of all I miss the fog.”
John Brown nodded and said nothing, and a few hours later he sent his wife to her room to tell her that a fishing boat would take her to England. She left Portugal two days after Leon Trotsky had been assassinated in Mexico. She had heard the news on the BBC and had remembered the trip that she had made with Albert not so long ago. She remembered Trotsky well, his inquisitive gaze, his uncertain gestures, his fear of being assassinated.
And she was scared to think how far Moscow’s reach must extend, and how she had managed to escape from that danger.
8
To Amelia’s surprise, Albert was not in London. The apartment was freezing cold, and there was a layer of dust on everything. She found a note on Albert’s desk, dated July 10.
Dear Amelia,
I don’t know when you will read this note, or even if you will read it. I have asked Uncle Paul how long he will be keeping you out of London, but he didn’t want to answer me. In case you get back and find me gone, I want you to know that I have gone to New York. I have things to do there; I need to see the editors of the newspapers I write for, I need to see how my investments are doing, I need to talk to my father and argue with my mother... I think I will try to find Rahel as well, to see if she is alright. I don’t know how long I will be in New York, but you know how to find me.
The flat is at your disposal. Mrs. O’Hara will come to clean from time to time.
And so it turns out, my darling, that I, who write so much for other people, don’t know how to write to you.
Yours,
ALBERT JAMES
Major Murray seemed pleased when Amelia came into his office.
“Good work,” he said in greeting.
“You think so?”
“Of course.”
“But I haven’t sent you any substantive information, but I have the details of an operation that I think could be vitally important.”
“I supposed you must have, because you made the decision to come back without my permission.”
“I’m sorry, but I think that once I’ve explained about the Madagascar Plan then you’ll agree that it is an important topic.”
Murray asked his secretary to make them some tea. Then he sat down in front of Amelia, ready to hear her out.
“Well, what have you got to tell me?”
Amelia explained in detail what she had heard, from the day of her arrival in Berlin until her return to London. The contacts she had established, the opposition group she was working with, the Madagascar Plan, and everything that Max von Schumann had told her about the discontent brewing in various sections of the armed forces.
The major listened to her in silence and only interrupted her to ask for details every now and then. When she had finished, Murray got up and paced up and down in front of his desk for a while, ignoring Amelia’s growing discomfort.
“So, you have found out that there is a little network in the heart of the Third
“There aren’t many of them,” Amelia said.
“Yes, of course... It’s very interesting. My dear, you have brought us some very valuable information. I want you to write down everything you have told me, and I want in within two hours. I have a meeting with Lord James. I think he will be very happy with the success of your mission, which is much greater than that of other agents who are working in Berlin at the moment.”
Amelia started and looked defiantly at Major Murray.
“You sent other agents to Berlin?”
“Of course, you didn’t think that we’d only send you, did you? The more networks we can set up, the better. You must understand that it is better for you not to have any contact with each other until it becomes truly necessary. And not just for security reasons.”
“So there are other agents in Berlin at the moment... ,” Amelia pressed.
“In Berlin, and in other parts of Germany. Don’t try to tell me that you’re surprised!”
She didn’t say, but in fact she was surprised. This was the moment when she began to understand that in the world of intelligence nothing is what it seems, and that agents are only pawns in the hands of their controllers.
“Shall I return to Berlin?”
“Write the report over the next couple of hours. Then go home and rest. It’s Friday today, take a couple of days off and come back at nine o’clock on Monday to get your orders.”
Amelia followed Murray’s instructions to the letter. She spent the weekend writing to Albert and putting the apartment in order. She didn’t want to see anyone, and anyway, the people she knew in London were Albert’s friends rather than hers.
On Monday at nine on the dot she arrived at Murray’s office. He seemed to be in a bad mood.
“The Luftwaffe are getting ever more accurate in their attacks... ,” Murray complained.
“I know, sir.”
“We’ll have to pay Berlin a return visit with our planes.”
Amelia nodded, even though she couldn’t suppress a shudder thinking of all the friends she had left in Berlin, all of them opposed to Hitler and ready to risk their lives to put the Third Reich to an end.
“Well, I have another mission for you. You have to go to Italy, straight away.”
“Italy? But... well... I thought I was to go back to Berlin.”
“You will be more useful for us in Italy. This is classified information that I am passing on to you now, but a few days ago an unidentified submarine destroyed the Greek cruiser Elli. We think that it was an Italian submarine.”
“But why do I have to go to Italy? I insist that I am more useful in Berlin.”
“You have to go to Italy because you are a friend of Carla Alessandrini’s.”
“Yes, I am a friend of Carla’s, but...”
“No ‘buts,’” Murray interrupted. “You know that Il Duce has declared war on us. We’re not all that worried, but there is no such thing as a little enemy. La signora Alessandrini will help introduce you into Italian high society. The only thing I want you to do is to listen, to take note of everything that you hear, and to report back to us things that might appear interesting. It’s the same work that you have been doing in Berlin. You are a pleasant, well-mannered, and personable young woman, and you will not be out of place in elegant company, nor in the company of powerful men.”
“But I cannot use Carla!”
“I am not asking you to use her; she is your friend and she does not like Il Duce, and she is in contact with the Resistance already...”
“Carla! But that’s impossible! She is an opera singer, and, yes, she doesn’t like Fascism, but that doesn’t mean that she’s willing to get into trouble.”
“And don’t you think that she got into trouble when she helped that Jewish girl escape? Rahel, that was her name, wasn’t it?”
“But that was a very special set of circumstances,” Amelia protested.
“Go to Milan, or wherever it is that la gran Alessandrini is to be found at the moment, and tell us what they are saying in the Duce’s ‘court.’ That is your mission. We need Signora Alessandrini to collaborate with us. She has free access to all the centers of power in the whole of Italy. Il Duce is her greatest admirer.”
“And what shall I say to Carla?”
“Don’t lie to her, but you don’t have to tell her the whole truth either.”
“And how do I do that?”
“Just carrying on as you have been until now will be fine.”
“But what do you want to know?”
“I don’t know, you will have to tell me.”
“How can I get in touch with London?”
“I will give you another Madrid address to write to. You will send letters to another friend there. It will be a different code from the one you used in Berlin. We will teach you another one, I don’t think it will take you that long to learn it. If you have to get in touch with us urgently, go to Madrid, you can always use the excuse of needing to see your family, and get in touch with Major Finley, Jim Finley. He works in the embassy as a minor official, but he is with us. I will tell you how to get in touch with him before you go. I want you in Italy in a week. I don’t think that you need any particular cover if you are going as Carla Alessandrini’s friend. I took the liberty of sending her a telegram in your name saying that you were going to see her, and she replied extremely happily, saying she’d be delighted.”
“You used my name to get in touch with Carla!” Amelia protested.
“I’ve made a few things easier, that’s all.”
Amelia was not as surprised as she had made out to be that Carla should have connections with the Resistance. Her friend was a passionate woman, with very clear ideas about what Fascism signified and how much she hated it.
The major had arranged for her to travel to Rome via Lisbon, and he permitted her, through gritted teeth, to spend a couple of days en route in Madrid to see her family.
She arrived in Madrid on September 1. She left behind an England that had suffered stoically under the bloody attacks of the Luftwaffe, not only on London, but on a number of other cities: Liverpool, Manchester, Bristol, Worcester, Durham, Gloucester, and Portsmouth were all on the list of victims. The RAF tried to give an eye for an eye with their attacks, and Berlin suffered ever more severe bombardments.
Meanwhile, Churchill continued his secret diplomatic contacts with the United States, attempting to convince Franklin D. Roosevelt that not only was England not being destroyed, but that it could even win the war, even if such a victory could be achieved only with the material help of the United States. Churchill sketched out for Roosevelt the dark future that might result if such help were not forthcoming, and Hitler took control of the whole of Europe and positioned himself for an attack on the United States. Churchill insisted to Roosevelt that it was vital for America that the United Kingdom should triumph.
The United Kingdom’s financial situation was continually worsening, and the country had almost to go bankrupt before the Americans would accept that either they should help the United Kingdom, or else they should expect to find Hitler menacing their own coasts.
On September 2, 1940, the United States lent England fifty destroyers, in exchange for military bases at various points all over the world...
Major Hurley cleared his throat. Apparently, he had reached the end of his story. He looked at the clock without trying to hide that this was what he was doing. I asked myself if he was going to get rid of me without giving me any more information, or if he would send me back to Lady Victoria, but I decided not to ask anythi
I had listened to his story in silence, and I had not even asked a single question.
“Your great-grandmother also had a significant part to play in Italy. But, Guillermo, maybe you should find out what happened when she went back to Madrid. I cannot tell you about this, unfortunately. As far as Italy is concerned, I could give you some information about the work that Amelia carried out there, but it would not be very thorough, as I have not found very much in the archives. You told me that you yourself were in contact with a scholar who was an expert about Carla Alessandrini’s life; maybe she will be able to help you with this part. Or maybe not... In any case, I need to go now and I will not be able to meet with you again for a few days.
I was about to protest. But I realized that Major William Hurley would care little about my protests. He had the information that I would like to have and he would control it as he saw fit. So I told him that I would be eternally grateful to him for the help he had already given me.
“I would not be able to carry out my research without you,” I said, to flatter him.
“Of course you wouldn’t, but as you will of course understand, I have other duties and responsibilities, so I will not be able to see you for several days, let us say not before Wednesday of next week. Call my secretary on the Tuesday to see if I am available.”
I left the major’s house in a bad mood. But then I thought that there’s no cloud without a silver lining: I could call Francesca, and pretend to be upset with her that she had not told me a single thing about Carla Alessandrini’s political activities, and I could use that as an excuse to go to Rome. I didn’t want to abuse the funds that Doña Laura was placing at my disposal for the investigation into Amelia, but I managed to convince myself that the trip to Rome was more than justified. My luck was like my great-grandmother’s: I kept on coming back to London, like it or not.