Enemies: A War Story by Kenneth Rosenberg

Author:Kenneth Rosenberg [Rosenberg, Kenneth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Forty-Six

New York City, June 13, 1942

At the watch counter in Macy’s department store, George Dasch examined the merchandise inside a glass case. Through all of his years in this country, he’d watched every penny. Dasch had survived in the United States. He never thrived. Now with $90,000 in cash stashed away in a rail station locker, he could afford whatever he wanted. He had to admit, it felt pretty good.

“Can I help you with anything?” A sales clerk stood across the counter.

Dasch pointed to a fancy-looking watch with gold bezel and matching band. “How much is this one?”

“Oh, the Lord Elgin. That’s one of my favorites. That would be thirty-nine dollars and ninety-eight cents.”

George looked up to the clerk. “Can I try it on?”

“Certainly, sir.”

Peter Burger stood nearby as the clerk pulled the watch from the case and placed it on Dasch’s wrist.

George admired the gleam of gold. “What do you think?” he asked Burger.

“It’s a nice watch.”

“I’ll take it,” Dasch said.

“Wonderful, I can ring you up right over here.” The clerk moved to a register.

“Are you going to get one?” George turned back to his partner.

“No, that’s all right.” Peter apparently didn’t approve.

“You might as well. We have to blend in, right? Every man needs a good watch.”

“Not today. Maybe another time.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I would like to get a camera. I had a Leica back home but my wife had to sell it. You know how things are.” Burger thought back to his time in Gestapo captivity, with his wife outside, barely able to survive. “I think they owe me that much.”

“Sure they do, boy, sure they do! We’ll get you a Leica! First, I think we could use a few more items of clothing. Maybe another suit, with a new hat and scarf? What do you think about that?”

Burger shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Enjoy yourself! And don’t forget…” Dasch leaned close, reducing his words to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s the Fuhrer who’s paying.”

After picking out another set of clothing each, along with hats, Burger and Dasch purchased brown leather suitcases with which to cart off their spoils. The men waited for the tailors to work their magic, then carried their goods out of the store in the cases. Stepping onto the crowded sidewalk, they could have been visitors from just about anywhere, swallowed amongst hordes of spectators headed to a massive military parade on Fifth Avenue. Burger’s head craned skyward as a formation of B-17 bombers roared overhead. All he wanted was to disappear into the nearest hotel. Just a few blocks away they came to one that looked promising. The Governor Clinton.

“This ought to do,” said Dasch.

“Fine,” Burger agreed.

The pair headed inside and proceeded through the lobby to the front desk. “We’d like two rooms,” Dasch announced. “If you have any available, of course.”

“Sure, we have rooms.” A front desk clerk nodded his head. “Five dollars per night each. How many nights would you like?”

“We’ll pay for four nights.”

The clerk opened a registry and slid it across the counter. “Sign here.

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