A Tangled Web
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About this ebook
Specialized spy training in 1942 and subsequent dangerous secret missions across three continents result in a young man spinning a tangled web of deceit, which leads to unintended consequences for himself and others.
Tommy E. Cauthen
Tommy Cauthen was serving as a U.S. Army officer in West Berlin when the Wall was built in 1961. He recently published his first novel, A Tangled Web followed by its sequel, Shadows on the Wall based on some of his experiences while serving there. After serving eight years in the Army, he joined the FBI and served as a Special Agent for twenty-one years. Subsequent to his retirement, he became the Managing Director of the London office for an international private investigative firm. In that capacity, he was required to travel to Oslo, Norway due to an extortion matter and got his first taste of the Norwegian culture which eventually led to this book. Cauthen lives with his wife, Sally in Largo, Florida.
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A Tangled Web - Tommy E. Cauthen
Copyright © 2015 Tommy E. Cauthen.
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.
WestBow Press
A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.westbowpress.com
1 (866) 928-1240
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
ISBN: 978-1-5127-1843-0 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-5127-1844-7 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-5127-1842-3 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015918302
WestBow Press rev. date: 11/25/2015
Contents
Preface
Chapter 1 (Jacksonville - June 17-18, 1942)
Chapter 2 (Camp Blanding - June 19 - 28, 1942)
Chapter 3 Camp Wheeler, Georgia - (June 28 - September 30, 1942)
Chapter 4 Camp Blanding, Florida - (October 1942 – February 1943)
Chapter 5 North Africa – (March 1943)
Chapter 6 Walter Reed Army Hospital - (April – July 8, 1943)
Chapter 7 Camp Ritchie (July 10 - October 8, 1943)
Chapter 8 PO Box 1142 – (October 1943 - December 1946)
Chapter 9 Frankfurt-Munich Area(1947-1948)
Chapter 10 Berlin – (1948 -1962)
Chapter 11 West Berlin -East Berlin(1961 - 1962)
Chapter 12 NEW YEAR(Berlin 1961-The Letter)
Chapter 13 (Epilogue)
Acknowledgements
About the Author
This novel is lovingly dedicated to my wife Sally, whom the Bible describes as the virtuous woman. (KJV Prov. 31:10-31)
Preface
I grew up in Jacksonville, Florida, during WW II and learned about eight Nazi saboteurs who landed in 1942 at Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida and Long Island, New York. They were captured by the FBI, then tried by military court martial and convicted. Six of them were executed and two received lengthy prison sentences. Later, I became interested in WW II history, particularly the war in Europe. When I served in the U. S. Army in Germany from 1960 to 1963, I traveled to many locations which I had read about during the war. I was also intrigued by events that happened when my uncle and cousin were soldiers serving in many of those areas during the war.
After serving in the army myself, I became a Special Agent with the FBI and learned first hand, what it was like to search for and interrogate suspects and subjects. In the process, I met several Special Agents and FBI technicians, who worked during the war tracking down German spies.
I decided to write about this subject, as it was so fascinating to me, and I wanted to tell a story that would be of interest to my grandchildren and any other Americans who may not be aware of much of what this period of history has to tell. This story was written from my Christian worldview. I only hope that my faith in Christ will be reflected, not only in the story, but in my life as well, so that my grandchildren and others might come to see the true Light of the World
themselves.
The spy story that developed is, of course, fiction, as far as the main character is concerned, but many of the other characters were real people and even include my uncle, who served with the First Infantry Division in North Africa, and some American officers I later served with during my army days. The dialogue and actions of the characters are purely fictitious and stem from the imagination of the writer.
All of the locations, however, are real places, and recently declassified secret information, which is on file with National Archives, both in England and the United States, shed light on the details about my story. Many of these documents, which were obtained through Freedom of Information Act requests, include the names of some of my characters and many locations where they served. Numerous documents used as reference material were those which were declassified and released for historians as a result of the U. S. Nazi War Crimes Disclosure Act which related to certain real people mentioned in the telling of my story. My research, concerning this story, covers more than a three year span, and I hope you will be as fascinated as I was about many of these clandestine places and activities, previously known only to a few, who at the time, were sworn to secrecy.
Chapter 1
(Jacksonville - June 17-18, 1942)
At about daybreak, a lone male figure awoke and found himself on a deserted white sandy beach at water’s edge, lying on the sand with slight ripples of waves lapping at his feet. Unfortunately, he did not know who he was nor how he arrived, and he wore only a bathing suit, a tee shirt, and a life jacket. His head was throbbing, and he felt a large bump on the right side of his forehead. As he touched the area, it was very tender, but only a small scratched area was felt. He appeared very weak but managed to get to his feet, walk up to the sand dunes, and sit down in the soft, white warm sand. At this point he discovered, underneath the life jacket, a money belt around his waist wrapped in water proof material. After removing and discarding the life jacket, he examined the money belt and found inside a draft registration card from Milwaukee Local Board 17 in the name Jerry R. Stevenson, 2265 N. Sixty-Ninth Street, Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Also enclosed was a total of thirty-eight hundred dollars in U. S. twenty-dollar bills. Still he had no idea who he was nor, in fact, where he was. He wondered, What happened to me?
Why don’t I know where I am? He thought maybe he really was Jerry Stevenson, as the draft card indicated, but what was he doing on the beach with all that money? He was particularly concerned about the money. Where did it come from? He then began to wonder if he was a fugitive from justice, or perhaps the mob was after him. Should he go to the police or just keep things to himself until he recovered his memory? He decided the best thing to do was keep things to himself for the time being. At this point, he knew he had to find out the answers to these questions and so started to amble slowly along the deserted beach in a northerly direction. Shortly after the sun came up, he began to observe a few old wooden beach houses along the shore then; a sign for
JACKSONVILLE BEACH" and a little further on he could make out a boardwalk that was just coming to life.
Just a short distance from the boardwalk, he found an old bathhouse and went inside looking for a shower to rinse off and perhaps find some clothing. Inside were wooden stalls for changing. Seeing no one around, he opened the door to a stall and located a pair of dark blue trousers with a leather belt and a light blue shirt hanging on a peg. Beneath a bench below the clothes was a pair of shoes with light blue socks stuffed inside. He also noticed a beach towel hanging on a peg nearby. After a cold shower, he felt better. He sat down on one of the dark green pinewood benches located near the stalls and dried himself with the towel he had found. He then tried on the trousers, which were a little too large, but by tightening the belt they would do. The shirt was a little too tight, but he reasoned it would do for the time being. He reached under the bench, put on the socks, and tried on the fairly new brown Thom McAn shoes, which seemed to fit. When he stood, he reached into the side pant pockets and found $2.75 in change and a Bulova pocket watch. Still no one had entered the bathhouse, and so he hung his bathing suit and tee shirt on the peg where the clothes had been, and placed a twenty-dollar bill inside the tee shirt pocket and walked out the door.
After leaving the bathhouse, he returned to the boardwalk and purchased a hot dog and cup of coffee. He learned from the vendor that he was about seventeen miles from Jacksonville and was given instructions as to where to catch a Greyhound bus into the city. After finishing off the hot dog and coffee, he decided to catch the bus to Jacksonville. Shortly thereafter, at about 10:00 a.m., he boarded the bus and deposited his twenty-five cents as instructed by the driver. The route led along Atlantic Boulevard, crossed the St. Johns River, and finally terminated at the Greyhound terminal located at 10 N. Pearl Street in Jacksonville, at about 11:00 a.m. He decided he needed a shave and stopped off at a barbershop on Bay Street for a shave and haircut. The barber noticed the bump on his head; and after cutting his long blond hair, he placed a Band-Aid to cover the small wound. The barber asked how he got the bump, and he quickly responded that he had tripped and fallen on the boardwalk several hours before while he was down at the beach. At this point, he still could not recall anything of his past and pondered his next move. While relaxing in the barber’s chair, he enjoyed the soft, steaming hot cloth applied to his face in preparation for the shave and finally began to relax.
After leaving the barbershop, he walked to the corner of Forsyth and Hogan Streets until he came to a five-and-ten-cent store on West Adams Street. By then it was slightly past noon, so he went into the store and sat down at the luncheon counter, and ordered a liverwurst sandwich on toasted rye bread and a chocolate milk shake. After paying, he passed by a counter that displayed leather billfolds. He selected a dark brown-colored cowhide leather wallet. After paying the clerk, he placed the Selective Service card inside as this was his only means of identification. The name on the card still did not ring any bells, nor did the address, but at this point he decided to use the name Jerry Stevenson for identification. He also removed several twenty-dollar bills from his money belt, which he had placed underneath his shirt, and put them inside the wallet as well. After lunch, Jerry felt a little tired. He recalled seeing a theater nearby and thought perhaps he could go in and take a short nap, and perhaps he would thereafter begin to recall his past and his true identity.
As he walked out of the store, he passed a Thom McAn shoe store before reaching the Arcade Theater. The movie playing was in Technicolor and was titled, Captains of the Clouds, starring James Cagney. After purchasing his ticket, he entered the darkened theater and was shown to his seat by an usher. By the time he sat down, the Movietone News was showing ships being torpedoed by German U-boats during the Battle of the Atlantic. For some reason this seemed familiar, but he could not bring any details to mind. As he was contemplating what he had just seen and heard, the movie began, but by James Cagney’s scene, wherein he listens to Winston Churchill’s We Shall Fight on the Beaches
speech he had fallen into a deep sleep. About an hour later, the movie ended and the lights came up, waking Jerry. But he could still recall nothing prior to waking on the beach earlier that morning. However, for some strange reason, he couldn’t get the word submarines out of the back of his mind.
After leaving the movie, he walked a short distance down the street and came to a city park that took up a whole city block. In the park, he could not help but notice the tall, stone cylindrical column with the statute of a Confederate soldier on top. By this time, he was somewhat thirsty, so he walked over to the side of the street where he observed two drinking fountains; one was marked Colored
and one White Only.
He leaned over and took a swig or two from the White Only
fountain. When he raised his head, he noticed a large sign on the top of a four-story building across the street with the words Cohen Brothers.
At this point he realized he should purchase some items, and so he walked across the street, entering the store through the West Duval Street entrance. At that moment, unknown to Jerry, he had just entered the largest department store in the city. He began to look around and after riding in an open-caged elevator to the second floor, he noticed some suitcases on display. He began to search around and found a reasonably priced light weight suitcase and selected it. He took it over to the counter; paid the young lady clerk and then moved on to the men’s department. He rummaged around, found a pair of dark-colored slacks, a long sleeve dress shirt, a short sleeve casual shirt and a tie, which matched the trousers. He then selected some underwear and paid the friendly young male clerk who rang up the sale. Off to the corner, he then placed all his articles in the suitcase.
Jerry then rode the elevator back down to the first floor and noticed a cosmetic counter which also had a display of men’s shaving items. As he stood at the counter, a middle aged, attractive red-haired female approached him and offered her assistance. She displayed various items and a rather expensive after shave cologne and convinced him to purchase several items. He decided he really did need them after all. During a conversation with the woman clerk, he learned her name was Ruth. She had seemed very friendly and helpful, so Jerry asked her if she could recommend a place where he could get a room for the night. She told him that she heard the Seminole Hotel was a nice place to stay, and that they had a very nice restaurant as well. She gave him the directions, and he recalled he had passed by the hotel earlier that morning. Jerry thanked her for the help and information and headed out of the store. He thought it would be a good idea to head on over to the hotel and get a room for the night. He would then decide