Code name arc angel, p.1
Code Name Arc Angel, page 1
Code Name:
Arc Angel
The Demise of the Devil
Bruce Jarvis
CODE NAME: ARC ANGEL
THE DEMISE OF THE DEVIL
Copyright
© 2016 Bruce Jarvis.
Joan Giezel - Cover Art
Hildegard Baker-English German translations
Holly Starley. - Editor
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names, and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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ISBN: 978-1-5320-0003-4 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-5320-0001-0 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-5320-0002-7 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016911055
iUniverse rev. date: 07/11/2016
Contents
Prologue
Book One The Rise
The Beginning
The Meeting
Good News/Bad News
The Call
Friday Morning
Journey To Germany
The Flight To Marseilles
The Train To Berlin
American Embassy
Brausch Family
Father
Maggie’s Next Day
Carlton’s Next Day
Loss And Closure
The Funeral
The Trip Home
Book Two The Demise
The Debrief
The Holidays, The Baby, And Donovan
The Decision: You’re In The Army Now
The Awakening
Mission Final Training
War Begins
The Mission Begins
Transition
Deep Cover
Mediterranean
Cleveland
Security Tightens
The Underground
The Americans
The Beginning Of The End
Hitlerƒs Staff Meeting
Home At Last
To my wife Joan who encouraged me to start, made recommendations, was my sounding board, and supported my effort to completion
To my children Michelle, John, and Anthony whose inquisitiveness as to status kept me going forward
To the “Greatest Generation” of men and women who won this war they never started or wanted
PROLOGUE
Germany’s leader in September 1940 was Adolph Hitler. Europe was in crisis. After annexing Austria and the Sudetenland, Germany’s armed forces had seized Czechoslovakia and then invaded and defeated Poland and Holland as well. Great Britain and France had declared war on Germany in support of Poland. However, Hitler’s armies had not only invaded Belgium and France; they had all but defeated the French Army and the English expeditionary force. More than three hundred thousand men of that force, along with the French and Belgian Armies had been evacuated from the beaches of the French coast at Dunkirk. Amid a German attack on Norway, the Norwegian king and his government had left their country for London. Meanwhile, the Italians had declared war on Great Britain and France, and a new government, the Vichy, had been formed in France. It had negotiated an armistice with Hitler and Mussolini. The German Air Force, the Luftwaffe, was attacking Great Britain.
It was the second week of September 1940. Carlton Fuller had a full day of “honey do” to finish.
The telephone began to ring.
“Carlton, please answer the phone,” called Maggie.
“Okay, I’ll get it,” Carlton shouted to his wife. “I’m on the porch painting the ceiling,” he added loudly as he came down the ladder and headed to the front door. The phone was on the table in the hallway.
Carlton picked up the phone. “Hello.”
“Hello,” replied the person at the other end of the call. “My name is Bill Donovan; I would like to speak to Carlton Brausch.” The caller emphasized the German name, Brausch with his slight German accent.
“My name is Carlton Fuller, not Brausch, as you said it.”
“I apologize,” the caller responded. “I would like to speak with you if possible.”
“What’s this all about?” Carlton continued. “Who are you?
“Who are you, a wise guy?” he repeated. And with that, he hung up the phone with a bang and stomped back to his work on the porch.
“Who was that?” called Maggie. “Why did you slam down the phone?” she asked quizzically.
“It was some goofball named William Donovan who wants to talk with me.”
So began one of the most intriguing, complex, and dangerous spy adventures of World War II. Carlton Fuller was recruited by the future director of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the forerunner of the CIA. The story is true, but some of the locations and some players’ names are fictitious, as the CIA does not identify its operatives or where they’ve operated. The story was told to me by my father over a number of years, after he’d learned it from his friend Carlton Fuller, whose family is gone. The man was never publicly recognized, his story never told. We will never know the sacrifice he and his family made for the United States. He was one of the unsung heroes of the war.
We do, however, know the outcome of the story. The Arc Angel prevailed. The demise of the devil was achieved.
BOOK ONE
The Rise
THE BEGINNING
Carlton was back on the ladder continuing his work painting the porch. The house he, Maggie, and the children lived in was over ten years old. He was thinking there were a few things, in addition to some painting, that the house needed. The linoleum in the kitchen and bathroom needed to be replaced. The carpet in the two bedrooms needed to be cleaned. The paint on the house was beginning to blister and peel. Normal maintenance, he thought. He had a busy day with the house. He wanted to get as much accomplished as he could before winter began. The telephone started ringing again. He was making good progress with the painting.
“Maggie, will you get the phone this time. I hate to climb down the ladder again. I have been up and down five times this morning.”
“I can’t. I’m up to my neck in washing and ironing. Please, Carlton, answer the telephone,” called Maggie. “What are you waiting for? It has rung eight times already. Answer the damn telephone. Whoever is calling this time?”
“I’m afraid it might be that nut who called earlier,” he said.
“I don’t think so; it’s been an hour since his call this morning. If it is, tell him you’re not interested and hang up again,” called Maggie.
“Okay, I’ll get it,” said Carlton. He came down from the ladder, walked into the hall, and reached for the receiver.
“Hello,” Carlton answered.
“Hello, Mr. Fuller. This is William Donovan again. Please don’t hang up on me again. Please, let me apologize for being so abrupt on my first call. I want to give you some explanation as to why I’m calling you.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want any. Good-bye,” Carlton replied.
As he was about to hang up the telephone, Carlton thought to himself, The man said please twice. I’ll hear what he has to say. He put the receiver back to his ear.
“What?” Carlton questioned sarcastically. “Who are you? And what do you want? I’m very busy.”
Giving Donovan a chance to talk was a fateful decision on his part.
“As I indicated earlier in my first call, my name is William Donovan. I was named by the president of the United States as coordinator of information in July of this year.” Being a risk taker, Donovan took a shot, hoping that mentioning the president would get Fuller’s attention. “I’m interested in talking with you because of your background, your heritage, and your family in Germany.” Donovan continued, “I would like to meet with you.”
“I have been estranged from my family in Germany for over twenty years. That is the reason I changed my name. They have no dealings with me.” His interest was beginning to stir. “I don’t understand. I have no dealings with them. I’m a lawyer, I have my own family, and I am a citizen of the United States. I don’t even talk with the people in Germany. I have no idea as to what they are even doing there. Do you hear what I’m saying, Mr. Donovan? Why
“I hear you, Mr. Fuller. I understand your concerns. I suggest you call your senator or representative’s office and ask them who I am. Meet me at one of their offices if you like. What you just said is the reason I have a need to talk with you. Please, I only want to talk to you. It is important to me and to the country. Will you please talk with me ? I will send a car for you on Tuesday morning at nine a.m. If you won’t come, I will continue to call you. I am very persistent.”
“That is very presumptuous. Tuesday is not good; I will be in court Tuesday all day. I will meet with you, but I am very suspicious of everything you are talking about. The only time available this week is Saturday morning,” Carlton explained. He was hoping that offering Saturday would get the guy to quit. It didn’t. Why did I agree to talk with him? Carlton thought.
“Thank you, Mr. Fuller. I will have a car pick you up at your residence at seven a.m. Saturday morning. Your address is 3468 Randolph Avenue, Cleveland Heights, Ohio?” Donovan replied.
“Yes, that is correct,” Carlton agreed. “Where will we be meeting at 7:00am?” he asked.
“We will meet at the Federal Bureau of Investigation Offices in downtown Cleveland,” replied Donovan. “I appreciate your agreeing to meet with me. Thank you. Good-bye.”
As Carlton was replacing the telephone on the hook, Maggie came into the hall and looked at Carlton. “I heard you agree to meet with the man. Why did you agree to talk with this guy?” she asked. “Who is he? What did he want? Where are you going Saturday morning at 7:00am? You don’t get up until eight a.m. any day, let alone on a Saturday morning. Are you sure you made the right decision? The kids are meeting the Kramer kids at the park on Saturday. I was counting on you to take them and spend some time with them … Now I will have to go with them and drive the car. You know how I hate to drive the car with the kids in the backseat.”
“I’m sorry about Saturday morning, but it was the only day I had available this week except Sunday, and that’s our day—you know, church and a great dinner together. It was his determination to talk to me. He was so insistent. Seems interesting to me. I guess it’s the lawyer in me. Inquisitive about something I don’t know anything about. Please support me on this one. I’ll explain the whole meeting to you when I get home on Saturday. We will be meeting in the Federal Bureau of Investigation offices in downtown Cleveland. Now I have to finish painting the porch.”
With a smile in her voice, Maggie kissed him on the cheek, looked him in the eye, and said, “Support you on this one. How many times over the years have I supported you on this one? Remember the cottage I supported you on at Lake Cable last summer? What a deal it was, a cabin located on the beach, summer breezes, warm water, sandy beach. Nothing but thunder and lightning, loss of power, and the coldest week of the year. Although you and the kids enjoyed macaroni and cheese almost every meal, I gained five pounds over that exciting vacation, and we couldn’t go swimming because the water was too cold. Uh-huh. Why I still love you puzzles me, but I do and will forever.” She walked out of the hall into the kitchen, chuckling.
As he climbed the ladder, Carlton smiled and remembered the beautiful blond he’d found at college. Maggie Bertrand. What a dish she was. She was as cute as a June bug with a turned-up nose and a wonderful smile and as pretty as a picture in Collier’s magazine. He had been smitten instantly, but he hadn’t even met her yet. He had talked about her with his buddies and asked them to help him figure out a way to meet her. Whatever it would be, it would be exciting.
Maggie and her friends had been at the college studying for finals near the end of their senior year. It had been a beautiful day during the spring of 1926. Carlton was twenty-six, and Maggie was twenty-two, and they were both in the prime of their lives. Carlton and his buddies had planned to splash the girls with buckets of water as they left the library that afternoon. After splashing the girls, they would retreat to the woods behind the library and hide, after which Carlton would emerge, pretending to suddenly see what had happened and come to the rescue. If the plan worked, Maggie would feel rescued and be impressed with Carlton. Carlton laughed to himself as he recalled the incident.
It all began innocently. The girls came out of the library. They came down the steps, and his buddies jumped out from the side of the steps and threw the water from buckets and soaked the girls. Their screams could be heard across campus. When Carlton heard the noise, he ran around the corner of the library, ran to Maggie’s aid, and started to dry her off. The rest of the girls jumped on him and started hitting him as hard as they could, blaming him for throwing the water they’d been splashed with. He tried to explain, but they just beat him up. As it turned out, Maggie stayed behind and tried to comfort Carlton for the beating the girls had given him.
Maggie was drawn to Carlton immediately. He was about six feet tall, with blue eyes and the blondest hair she had ever seen on a man. He was outgoing in nature and loved the outdoors.
While they were dating, they rode bikes, went hiking, and enjoyed the theater and opera together. To Maggie, he was a perfect gentleman and paid complete attention to her when they were together. In the end, the means accomplished the end. It all worked out, and two years later, they were married. Carlton went on to complete law school and graduated two years following their wedding. Maggie and Carlton still laughed out loud when they recalled their “meeting,” as they called it.
Carlton finally finished painting the porch. What fond memories I have, he thought as he cleaned his brushes and put his materials away.
He loved this woman very deeply and included her in all he did. They talked incessantly about the daily family activities and what was best for them and the children. She helped him with his career and stayed home to raise the children. Early on, it had been difficult, as they had gone through the Depression. He had been fortunate, as he was able to represent people who were unfortunate enough to go bankrupt. He’d ended up working for the city, representing it in collecting tax monies from industry. The job had paid the bills and put food on the table during the toughest times.
Carlton’s practice had taken him many directions. He’d finally landed in an insurance office representing insurance companies in the claims process. Although he represented the companies, his philosophy was always to be fair, honest, and empathetic toward the client. He was successful.
Carlton’s week was a very busy one. But, he could not stop thinking what Donovan might possibly want to talk to him about. His imagination was conjuring up all sorts of ideas, but they always led to dead ends. His life was very routine—work, go to court, do paperwork, go home, spend time with children, help wife, plan future, save money for children’s college. It was, from his perspective, very boring and mundane.
It was Friday evening before his meeting with Donovan. “You’re talking to yourself again,” Maggie remarked as she waltzed into the living room to sit down to read the newspaper. “What’s on your mind? You have been doing a lot of that this week.”
“I was talking to myself, wondering out loud what this guy Donovan wants,” Carlton replied.
“Donovan must be important if President Roosevelt has named him. Now I am also wondering what he wants to talk to you about. Sounds like something you should be proud of. Not everyone gets to talk to a presidential appointee,” Maggie remarked.
“He is a mystery man right now. Please remind me to set the clock for five thirty a.m. I probably should take a bath and shave before I get picked up at seven. What’s on the radio tonight?” Carlton mumbled.
“Well, if you give me the paper, I’ll read the listings and tell you. Hopefully, not another presidential fireside chat. The president always scares me when he talks about the war in Europe. This guy Hitler the president keeps talking about makes me shake in my boots. He seems to be trying to conquer the world,” Maggie replied.
