They Came To Kill by Eugene Rachlis

Author:Eugene Rachlis [Rachlis, Eugene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: History, Military, United States, Europe, General, Germany, Special Forces
ISBN: 9781839741364
Google: C_TCDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Pickle Partners Publishing
Published: 2019-12-06T03:06:27+00:00

Shortly after 7:00 p.m. on Thursday, June 18, Dasch arrived at Washington’s Union Station and went immediately to his hotel. Rooms were at a premium in wartime Washington, and especially so in a hotel as popular as the Mayflower, the residence of many Congressmen and government officials. Dasch was assigned Room 351 with the understanding that he would leave by Monday evening. He had no choice in the matter, but he didn’t see how his business could take any longer than that, anyway.

Despite his having called the F.B.I. the previous Sunday in New York, Dasch was now confused as to where to start. It occurred to him that perhaps the Army’s G-2, which was, after all, the counterpart of German Military Intelligence, might be a more logical place than the F.B.I. But there was not much he could do about it at night, he decided, and he went out for dinner. A streetcar brought him to F Street, Washington’s main thoroughfare, where he wandered aimlessly looking for a restaurant.

At last he walked into one, without much thought to its name or location. When he sat down to order, he found—almost inevitably for a man who had spent so many years in his profession—that his waiter recognized him. It does not seem to have frightened Dasch as much as it offended him. He had so thrust himself into his new role that he did not want to believe anyone could penetrate the disguise he mentally wore. “I just wanted to find out how far I could go until I could be a different person,” he said of this evening. For most of the meal he ignored the waiter’s obvious desire to renew old acquaintance, but Dasch could not restrain himself for long, and the desire to play the hero won out before dessert. “I could see the boy thought I was a conceited brat,” Dasch said. “I called him over and I said, ‘Boy, you are correct in identifying the fellow you thought I was.’” There is no telling how the young waiter reacted to this rather mysterious statement, but he accepted Dasch’s invitation to drinks after work. Over Scotch and soda Dasch told the comparative stranger what he intended to do, and asked for advice on the proper authorities to whom to present his story. The waiter, who did not believe a word of Dasch’s story, suggested the Attorney General of the United States, and Dasch conscientiously made a note of the name.

The next morning, though, the Attorney General did not have as much appeal for Dasch as he had had over drinks. Like thousands of visitors to Washington, Dasch called the United States Government Information Service. He asked the difference between the F.B.I. and the Secret Service, and the properly trained young woman asked Dasch the nature of his business. He readily explained that he had a statement to make of military as well as political value. It is not likely that the Information Service got that kind of

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