The Brother & Sister Act

Jane Palmer didn’t know what to say. Seated beside Klaus Leonhardt on the sound stage for their third film together, The Priest’s Redemption, she’d been studying her lines for the last scene. “My father has asked me to return to Germany,” Klaus whispered. She could only stare at him. “Adolph Hitler’s National Socialist government has kept my father’s factory busy with plenty of contracts… even helped him hire new managers.” “Why do you need to be there?” Jane asked. “I’ve convinced him that I won’t abandon acting.” “Why then?” “The new government is dedicated to the arts like never before. Millions of reichmarks have been appropriated. They asked my father to contact me about appearing in films produced by the state.” “Features?” “What else? Germans are suffering through the prolonged economic crisis, just like here in America. The government’s goals are to foster national pride… portray the Fatherland in its true light… display normalcy.” “That’s from your parents?” “The Interior Minister. Father sent me his letter.” “Artists and scientists are fleeing Germany…” “Disloyal ones, pretending not to understand.” “…by the hundreds?” “Propaganda, Jane, that’s all it is. The true number is little more than a handful. Hollywood propagandizes, too. You and I have been victimized by that ourselves.” “Clive and Mr. Wagner have talked to Marlene Dietrich about a picture with me, Klaus. She’s one who fled Germany.” "How can we know the real reasons why anyone does anything?” “How soon will you return?” Jane wiped a tear from her cheek. Klaus held her in his arms. “I love you, Jane. Marry me…come with me.” Jane felt dizzy. Her vision blurred. She struggled loose from him, and ran tearfully to her dressing room. “Cryptography allows us to have eyes and ears in the enemy camp,” Dr. Auerbach said. “Why not be involved with the U.S. version?” Kenny asked. “We have no version,” replied Auerbach. “Only inter-service rivalries… distance from the Great War battlefields… peacetime mentality… old-school military philosophies… resistance to change… profound ignorance of reality.” “Can’t the U.S. change?” “Ha ha ha. What do we teach in American history? The Constitution… the Bill of Rights… civil liberties… equal rights. The British have a broader sense of bureaucratic form and fewer constitutional barriers to the legal suspension of civil liberties. They simply pass legislation that gives government the power to read cables and private mail, regardless of who they’re to or from.” Kenny’s first fortnight in London was a rudimentary introduction to code-making, code-breaking and espionage - and to the secret nature of the organization he was joining. As they approached the building entrance, Denniston gripped Kenny’s arm. “Always walk past it,” he whispered, “then around the corner to the Foreign Office entry when you’re with a non-associate. You never want anyone to know where you work. Bid them goodbye… see them off… count to 120… then return here. When you board the lift, simply say ‘third’… never the agency name. There’s other offices and visitors in the building, you see.” ‘C’ puffed on his cigar and blew out more smoke rings. “We’ve got the American, Italian, and French diplomatic codes down pat,” he said, “as though they originated during the Crusades, lazy blokes. The Poles… you’ve got to hand it to them… as you will see… have re-created a version of the German’s Enigma machine without even seeing one. We have it. They gave it to us. Turing is tinkering with it now. Three rotors… that’s what it has. That creates the odds of more than 17,000 to 1 to select their current code-setting. They keep changing it. Diabolical bastards. You know the number precisely, don’t you Denniston?” Jane Palmer sat beside Marlene Dietrich, Jack Wagner, and Clive Rogel in the tiny - otherwise empty - studio theater that was used primarily to view daily rushes of that day’s filming. “What did I tell you,” Marlene exclaimed. “Vaterlaendischen… vaterlaendischen! Repeated over and over and over, ad nauseum, in that utterly stupefying song at the end. Vaterlaendischen is German for fatherland. I refrained from losing breakfast. How gleeful they looked about their contrived triumph… kissing, hugging, holding Klaus high over their heads…looking so victorious. About what? Innocent, unlikely, fictional, interlopers from Poland and Czechoslavakia? It’s all made up. Hitler will interlope them! You will see! Truth twisted upside down, inside out, a grotesque fairy tale about Nazi despots, portraying themselves as protectors, leaders, humanity’s destiny for paradise and golden earrings. Eternal hell in a fiery furnace would be more fitting. How could Klaus Leonhardt be so naïve to get involved in it?” “No one knows where he is,” Wagner said. “Of course not,” Marlene Dietrich replied. “Some of my Jewish friends and neighbors there have already vanished. Poof! Like that! Poof! The Nazis have learned how to hide a giraffe in a hat box.” “Admiral Cunningham asked me who came up with this ‘hare-brained, ingenious plan’,” ‘C’ said. “I simply answered, ‘Kroneldt’. Ha ha ha. He respects you, Professor. He gave it the green light. I tinkered with it a little, but you deserve all the credit.” “Is the Admiral always that blunt?” Kenny asked. “War requires it. Lives are always at risk. My own concern was the lack of a cover story. The Germans must not discern we seek a prize bigger than a rescue ship. Cunningham has already contacted the RAF for a suitable pilot and crew. The air ministry has the German bomber. operation-ready. It’s hangared at Dover.” “May I inquire about the cover story?” “Thrill seekers. Smilin’ Jack and his crew... fresh out of flight school... yearn to blow the Nazis into oblivion, single-handedly... seeking glory. They steal the bomber, know they’ll get in trouble, but believe that the resulting ship capture will mitigate any punishment... maybe even earn them a medal.” “Are cover stories always so convoluted?” “Ha ha ha. You better know, Professor. You won’t be able to deny you came up with this one.” USO duty was exhilarating for Jane, but full of stress. The entertainers were constantly on the move, fully aware of the dangers. Sounds of battle emanated from nearby hills, so close were they to the front lines. When Marlene Dietrich and Jane had been exclusively invited together into the Command Tent, following one of the mid-tour USO performances, they knew it wasn’t for an obligatory “meet everybody in charge” social hour. Canvas chairs faced a makeshift movie screen pinned to the canvas wall. Several Army officers stood to greet them. “We found this recently-produced propaganda film in the knapsack of a captured, Nazi SS officer,” said the Colonel-in-Charge, after all were seated. “The setting is claimed to be a Jewish settlement in Theresienstadt, a small town in German-occupied Czechoslovakia. If you feel comfortable translating, Miss Dietrich, I invite you to do so. Be prepared for a shock.”