Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [54]
Sean’s eyes narrowed. Grimwood was a lousy poker player. He had not only been thinking it over, but had obviously devised a plan. “Go on.”
Grimwood cleared his throat guiltily. “Well now, there are a half-dozen American field and base hospitals simply roving around this area. American casualties haven’t been heavy enough to justify the number of medical personnel. Well now ... one of these units would adore setting up a base in Castle Romstein.”
Sean had the drift of it. “And in exchange for giving them Castle Romstein we would reach an understanding with them to press their personnel, equipment, and supplies into our situation.”
“Precisely.”
“The idea has merit, Doc. Let me sleep on it and give you an answer tomorrow.” Sean arose and stretched heartily, shook hands, and made for the door.
“Oh, Major ...”
“Yes.”
“Bye the bye. I did just happen to run into Dr. Pobirs from the Sixty-Second Field Hospital at Stuttgart. I was up there er ... to requisition for supplies ... and so forth and so forth. One thing led to another and we drove down to look over Castle Romstein ... “When are they moving in?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Grimwood. You’re a limey son of a bitch.”
“Thanks, old chap. I knew you’d agree.”
Sean threw up his hands in a gesture of “defeat.”
“Major! With their forty doctors and nurses I’ll save every man, woman, and child out there and in the cathedral.”
“You don’t have to explain, Doc.”
Chapter Twenty-five
SEAN KEPT THE CAPTURE of Klaus and Emma Stoll quiet until he had received instructions from headquarters and had prepared for a flood of journalists.
Bertrand Collier, his press and information officer, had reacted quickly to the revelations of Schwabenwald. He set up tours of the concentration camp and prepared fact sheets and south-bank living quarters for the newspapermen.
The capture was announced and they poured into Rombaden. They were allowed to see Stoll and his wife from a distance in their overly guarded cells, but no one was permitted an interview.
One of the journalists to arrive in Rombaden was Cornelia Hollingshead, a phenomenon because of her sex. She was a war correspondent for Whittsett Press and its syndicate, Global Alliance. She had built a world legion of readers.
Even beneath dungarees and battle jacket, Corney was not without obvious feminine charm—long soft hair, a well-endowed bust, and sensuous lips. Femininity notwithstanding, Corney was more than a match for her male colleagues. Her ethics were under question more than once. Moreover, Whittsett Press and Global Alliance had a well-earned reputation of sensationalism over accuracy.
The Whittsett Press and their twenty-six newspapers backed Lieutenant General Arnold Cleveland for the position of Supreme Commander of Allied Forces. General Cleveland was a top man as generals went but by the time Whittsett Press and Corney Hollingshead finished glorifying him they had jacked him up to a notch over the Almighty Himself. To make matters worse, Corney was shacked up with him and trying to get him to leave his wife.
When Eisenhower was selected over Cleveland, the Whittsett Press and Corney went off like a pair of time bombs. They went so far as to call the President and General George Marshall traitors. Had the Whittsett Press published in any other country in the middle of a war, it is doubtful that they would have survived their own venom.
Corney Hollingshead romped all over England and France and Germany, a colossal pain to the authorities who were afraid to touch the sacred cow, Whittsett Press and Global Alliance.
She arrived in Rombaden determined to do a little “creative” writing to beef up the already ghastly concentration-camp stories. Bertrand Collier personally met her, gave her a beautiful suite of apartments, and a VIP tour.
She was not satisfied. She looked over officers of the Pilot Team to see who could do her the most good. Maurice Duquesne was her candidate to get her entry where other newsmen could not tread.
Duquesne accepted Corney’s advances without particular personal pride.