I wonder what the hell Johnson wants with me now. He’s been on my tail ever since I joined the Secret Service, but it’s unusual for him to have set up a private meeting in his office with a newbie like me. Seated at the reception desk was Martha, Johnson’s secretary. She was blue eyed with light brown hair and a figure even a blind man could appreciate. “Hi Martha, I’m here for the two o’clock.”
“It’s on the schedule. He’s waiting for you. Go on in, “ she purred.
“No waiting, that’s really unusual,” Paul muttered to himself, upon entering the spacious spartan office of the second in command of the Secret Service of the United States.
“Sit down Paul.”
Paul thought, ‘he never uses my first name. I wonder I could have done now.’
“I have a job for you. I want you to fall in love,” said Johnson.
“I’ve seen your daughter sir, and she isn’t so bad looking that you need to find a date for her,” retorted Paul.
“No smart ass! Not my daughter! How could you even think I’d want you anywhere near my daughter?” snapped Johnson, taking a deep, calming breath. He passed a photo of a lovely blond haired woman to Paul. “I want you to get her to fall for you. You do know how to romance a woman don’t you?
“Hell yes. What kind of a question is that?” asked Paul.
“Well, you know, you’re still wet behind the ears so I had to ask, “ said a smirking Johnson.
Paul interrupted, “What is it I have done?”
“Nothing, it just seems that you are the best for this job. Do you think you can handle it? You see, she is a spy for the Nazis, and we simply didn’t have a good handle on what she is doing, how she is getting her information, or how much she knows.”
“But, why me?”
“Well, it’s simple. If you fail and are killed, you are a disposable asset,” replied Johnson.
“Disposable, then why do you want me for this job?” asked a highly insulted Paul.
“Perhaps I chose the wrong word. Just think. You were recruited only a couple weeks ago right out of college. No one evens knows you’re part of the Secret Service. You don’t even have an official ID yet! You are an unknown, and this is how you start the process of going from disposable to indispensable. Do you think you can handle it?” asked Paul’s boss.
After pausing a few seconds, Paul asked, “What do I really have to do?”
“First, you need to infiltrate Lindberg’s organization. Once you become a rabid Charles Lindberg supporter, then hopefully you may get a chance to meet Margo. That’s the name of the girl in the photo. Then charm her,” explained Johnson.
Three months later in the spring of 1937, Paul was in Des Moines, Iowa cheering on Lindberg as he took the stage to denounce Roosevelt, Jews, and the English for trying to get America into the war. Lindberg was an isolationist and a supporter of the Nazi movement.
Paul had been noticed becoming a favorite of the Lindberg backers. Paul let it be known that he would do anything he could to aid Lindberg’s efforts. “You know I’m going to Switzerland next month, is there anything I can do while I’m there?” Paul asked Lindberg.
“There are some people we would like you to meet while you’re there, would you mind? And, I have some letters I would like you to deliver. I fear my mail is being opened and read by the government and I would like to keep these thoughts private if I can,” said Lindberg.
“Whatever I can do, “ gushed Paul in response.
Three weeks later, Paul found himself on the streets of a small Swiss village gawking like a typical tourist. He just loved the quaint narrow streets, classic Swiss buildings and the majestic Alps that towered over the village. High above a large chateau overlooked the village. While gazing at the scenery he felt a tap on his left shoulder.
“Guten tag mein herr,” a German gentleman said.
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak German,” Paul replied.
“That’s alright, I speak English Paul.”
“How do you know my name?” Paul asked.
“I believe you have some mail for me from our mutual friend Mister Lindberg,” he said. “I will meet you in the coffee shop over there. Don’t give them to me here on the street, people may be watching, they’re always watching.
They entered the coffee shop and Paul noticed the blond whose picture he’d been shown was seated in the corner at a table by herself. The German led him to a table for two on the other side of the establishment. Paul discreetly slid the letters across the table.
“Thank you. You do understand, Lindy simply doesn’t trust FDR.”
As the German stood and started to leave he said, “There is someone here you need to meet.” He then nodded to the blond and she gracefully glided across the room, approaching his table. Her picture didn’t do her justice. She was easily the most beautiful woman Paul had ever seen.
“Hi Paul, my name is Margo, “ she purred, offering her hand.
Paul took a deep breath and still couldn’t speak. His mouth was so dry. He rose, taking her hand in his. After a couple tries, Paul finally spoke, saying inappropriately, “My, aren’t you something?”
“Why thank you” she replied smiling. It felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach leaving him out of breath and speechless. “May I sit down?”
Paul simply nodded. His knees buckled and he sat down, thankful the chair was still beneath him. “They told me you were young but they didn’t tell me you were so handsome,” Margo said, smiling sweetly.
Paul finally got his heart rate and breathing under control so he could speak. “Could I offer you lunch or dinner?”
“I have a luncheon meeting, but I would love to have dinner with you. I’ll meet you out there by the fountain at, say, six o’clock,” she said pointing to the fountain just outside.
“I’ll be there,” Paul gushed.
She rose, shook his hand, lightly brushed his cheek with her lips then walked away.
That evening Paul was a half hour early. She was fifteen minutes late, but he waited, never once considering leaving. Dinner consisted of a light meal with a large helping of conversation. Margo was skilled. She quickly enticed Paul onto her network’s intent of helping Lindberg’s efforts to assist Hitler’s cause. If it meant seeing more of Margo, Paul was a very willing recruit.
“Paul. I could move around Europe much easier if I were on the arm of a handsome young man. Would you be my young man, please?”
“I would love to,” said Paul. “When do I start?”
Margo said, “is tomorrow too soon?”
They traveled together, ate together, roomed together, and as anyone listening to the sounds coming out of their room late at night would attest, they also loved together. During the day when Margo spied on the Allies, Paul spied on Margo. Often, the information gleaned by Margo was so current that she knew things even before the Allies had shared the information with each other.
In a meeting a Whitehall representatives from the U.S. and England decided that Margo was too good at what she did and simply had to be eliminated.
One afternoon when Margo was out, Paul received a visitor in a sidewalk café in Bern.
Johnson’s representative said, “Paul, she has to be killed and it has to look like an accident.”
Paul was stunned and said, “I don’t know if I can do it.”
“We can have her killed, but damn it man, do your job! The sooner the better!”
With tears in his eyes, Paul said, “Damn you all! I’ll do it.”
When Margo returned, Paul kissed her with the greatest passion he had ever felt, leading her to the bedroom. They made love. “I just wanted you to know how much I love you,” whispered Paul. “Let’s do something exciting tomorrow.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s go biking in the mountains,” he suggested.
“Sounds like fun” said Margo.
The next day, they got an early start leaving long before sunrise. Shortly after sunrise they were cycling high above the rocky North Sea coast with waves crashing far below. The view was breathtakingly beautiful. The bright sunshine, sparkling bright blue sky, and fresh mountain air, combined with the ever present fresh green forests made for a perfect morning.
Paul closed the gap between himself and Margo as if to whisper a sweet thought into her ear when the unthinkable occurred. Paul’s arm shot out and pushed Margo over the near path’s edge, sending her tumbling through the crisp mountain air toward the unforgiving rocks below. Her screams shattered the morning calmness. She bounced off the unforgiving rocks and slipped into the cold frigid waters of the North Sea. The deed was done. She was gone.
They traveled together, ate together, roomed together, and as anyone listening to the sounds coming out of their room late at night would attest, they also loved together. During the day when Margo spied on the Allies, Paul spied on Margo. Often, the information gleaned by Margo was so current that she knew things even before the Allies had shared the information with each other.
In a meeting a Whitehall representatives from the U.S. and England decided that Margo was too good at what she did and simply had to be eliminated.
One afternoon when Margo was out, Paul received a visitor in a sidewalk café in Bern.
Johnson’s representative said, “Paul, she has to be killed and it has to look like an accident.”
Paul was stunned and said, “I don’t know if I can do it.”
“We can have her killed, but damn it man, do your job! The sooner the better!”
With tears in his eyes, Paul said, “Damn you all! I’ll do it.”
When Margo returned, Paul kissed her with the greatest passion he had ever felt, leading her to the bedroom. They made love. “I just wanted you to know how much I love you,” whispered Paul. “Let’s do something exciting tomorrow.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s go biking in the mountains,” he suggested.
“Sounds like fun” said Margo.
The next day, they got an early start leaving long before sunrise. Shortly after sunrise they were cycling high above the rocky North Sea coast with waves crashing far below. The view was breathtakingly beautiful. The bright sunshine, sparkling bright blue sky, and fresh mountain air, combined with the ever present fresh green forests made for a perfect morning.
Paul closed the gap between himself and Margo as if to whisper a sweet thought into her ear when the unthinkable occurred. Paul’s arm shot out and pushed Margo over the near path’s edge, sending her tumbling through the crisp mountain air toward the unforgiving rocks below. Her screams shattered the morning calmness. She bounced off the unforgiving rocks and slipped into the cold frigid waters of the North Sea. The deed was done. She was gone.
Paul reported the accident to the authorities. They agreed: it was an accident. Paul arranged the funeral. His tears were heartfelt and plentiful, but the German who had introduced him to Margo cornered Paul at the funeral, letting know that they didn’t believe in coincidences. He warned Paul, “You will be dealt with.”
The decision was made to get him out of there quickly. The next evening Paul rowed a small boat out down the fjord and out to sea. A sleek black whale-like shape emerged from the depths of the sea. The English had offered Paul a ride on one of their submarines before the German’s death threat could be carried out. Paul boarded the sub, leaving the rowboat floating aimlessly. The sub quickly submerged setting a course for England.
Later that night the sub surfaced to recharge their batteries. The first mate manned the conning tower keeping watch over the dark, lonely waters. He took the opportunity to enjoy a fresh bowl of vanilla-flavored tobacco in his favorite pipe. He lit up. What were the chances someone would see the flare of that single match? A German U-Boat was a mere 300 yards away off the starboard side. Two torpedoes slammed into the English sub before they even realized they were under attack.
Those who weren’t killed instantly by the torpedoes quickly perished in the icy waters of the North Sea. All those aboard settled into a cold, icy grave. By a strange twist of fate, Paul and Margo will forever be together in the frigid arms of the North Sea.