EPILOGUE
The sun was setting through the leaves of whispering ash trees, long shadows falling across the path of the old man as he wandered between the neat lines of memorial stones. They were white and carefully scrubbed, and Cazolet paused in front of each one, lingering on occasion to offer a silent tribute to the exceptional youth or valour of the victim recorded on the stone, but always moving on. They were mostly American and British, almost all airmen, with every once in a while an Australian, New Zealander, Indian or South African being remembered. There were even five Poles buried in the Allied War Cemetery in Berlin, but they were not what he sought.
He found it after almost half an hour, when the sun had all but vanished and a fine autumn mist was beginning to gather. He had tired himself greatly and bent heavily over his walking stick as he read the inscription, his frail body trembling as he did so.
An Unknown Czech Soldier. Died April 1945.
‘So the Old Man’s crazy, impossible plan worked. We got to Berlin after all. If only he’d known …’
Cazolet stayed for a long while, until it was twilight and the damp had begun to bite at his bones. He did not mind. At last, and for whatever time he had left, he could be at peace with his memories, of Churchill’s desperate hope at the time he sent this man that he might forestall any possibility of an Alpine Redoubt, of his desolation when those hopes had crumbled and he had lost Berlin, of the guilt they had shared that this sacrifice had been in vain. Cazolet could only surmise what might have happened to their man, but since he had got as far as Berlin it seemed probable that he had gone all the way. ‘The insurance policy,’ as Churchill had described it to him, had worked. Nobody would believe the story, of course, not after all these years. So the memory would die with Cazolet, and soon there would be nothing left but a small, white marker in some crowded foreign field.
In the deepening shadows of evening the frail old man dug into his pocket and pulled out the. medals and decorations awarded to him during a lifetime of public service. Leaning carefully on his cane, he bent to place them on the grave of the unknown soldier. He walked stiffly away, looking content. Now he could face up to dying. With no regrets.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Much of the original idea for this book began with my father and his vivid memories of wartime London. We spent many enjoyable hours talking of his days as a young policeman. During the course of writing, he discovered he was dying, yet the knowledge only gave added urgency to his enthusiasm for sharing. He didn’t live to see the book completed, but it couldn’t have been done without him. So this book is dedicated to my father. I’m glad we had the time to share.
Others have helped, and as always in researching a book, I have made both enjoyable discoveries and new friends. I am indebted to Karl Wahnig for his experiences of active service on a U-boat; to have survived was remarkable, to have retained his sense of humour even more so. I am grateful to many others for their assistance and patience, particularly those at the Imperial War Museum, the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, the Royal Navy Submarine Museum at Gosport, and M. Bernard Hine for his thoughts on fine cognacs.
Much of the action and argumentation outlined in this book took place, particularly the fierce disagreements between Eisenhower and Churchill as to how the War should be brought to its end. But this is a work of fiction and, I hope, entertainment. It is also a work of love, for my father.
M.J.D.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
LAST MAN TO DIE
Michael Dobbs has spent many years at the most senior level of British politics, advising Mrs Thatcher, Norman Tebbit and many other leading politicians. He worked as a journalist in the United States throughout the Watergate crisis, and after returning to London in 1975 played major roles in the elections of 1979 and 1983. During the 1987 elections he was Chief of Staff at Conservative Party headquarters. He has a doctorate in defense studies. He lives in London with his wife and two young sons.
Last Man to Die is Michael Dobbs’ third novel, and the sequel to his number one bestseller House of Cards.
Michael Dobbs’ most recent novels, featuring his latest political hero, Thomas Goodfellowe MP, are Goodfellowe MP and The Buddha of Brewer St.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
‘Hencke’ was not the last man to die.
After arranging for the disposal of Hitler’s body, Goebbels and his wife Magda prepared their six young children for bed in the family’s quarters within the Bunker. Frau Goebbels dressed them all in clean nightgowns and brushed their hair, before feeding them chocolates laced with poison. The six tiny bodies were then wrapped in white shrouds.
Afterwards the parents went up to the Bunker garden where Hitler’s and Eva’s bodies had been burned in a shallow trench. Standing by the cremation site, Magda bit into a capsule of cyanide. As she fell to the ground, Goebbels put a bullet in the back of her head. He then bit into his own capsule, shooting himself in the right temple as he did so. They both wanted to make sure … An SS aide poured petrol over the bodies from a jerry can and set light to them. The semi-charred corpses were discovered by the Russians two days later.
Bormann attempted to break out of Berlin the night after Hitler and Goebbels died. He got less than a mile from the Reich Chancellery before he disappeared. His skull, identified through dental records, was dug up by developers preparing the site for an exhibition park nearly thirty years later.
The notary who had performed the wedding ceremony, Walter Wagner, was shot dead the same evening.
PRAISE
‘Thrilling escapism … what a corker, with a cunning twist in the tail. After this, the last moments of the war will never seem the same again.’
Daily Express
‘Arrestingly authentic.’
Manchester Evening News
ALSO BY THE AUTHOR
THE FRANCIS URQUHART TRILOGY
House of Cards
To Play the King
The Final Cut
THE THOMAS GOODFELLOWE SERIES
Goodfellowe MP
The Buddha of Brewer Street
THE CHURCHILL SERIES
Winston’s War
Never Surrender
Churchill’s Hour
Churchill’s Triumph
OTHER TITLES
Wall Games
The Touch of Innocents
Whispers of Betrayal
The Lord’s Day
First Lady
COPYRIGHT
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
Harper
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers