“The first thing is to get Fulmar back here from Morocco,” Stevens said.
“I hope Gisella remembers his handwriting.”
“And we can’t get the Limeys to help? Is that what you just said?
Beneath their dignity, or what?”
“There are other priorities, Dick,” Stevens said.
“Did the new aerial photos show you anything, Dick?” Fine asked.
“Yeah,” Canidy said. “That Douglass’s mission was a waste of effort.
It’s true that Doug’s guys managed to put a few five-hundred-pounders where they were supposed to be. But the Air Corps’ position that these did some damage is wishful thinking. I think they’ll be willing to admit that before long, although they’ve got theirioxperts’ still looking for something.”
“You sound pretty sure,” Stevens challenged.
“I’m a former naval person myself, Colonel,” Canidy said dryly.
“When I see a photograph of a sub being fueled while a crane loads torpedoes, I am expert enough to deduce the maintenance facility is functional.” He waited until Stevens nodded, then went on. “It’s going to take several of those flying bombs to take out those pens, and the small problem there is that I don’t think Aphrodite’s going to work.” “Why not?” Fine asked.
“Controlling those airplanes by radio is a lot easier said than done,” Canidy said. “Particularly when they’re old and shot up and worn out.
“Is there a reason for that?” Stevens asked.
“Yeah, if you mean an aeronautical, or aerodynamic reason,” Canidy said.
“Control surfaces are activated by cables. Even in a brand-new airplane, you may have to apply more pressure to get, say, the desired amount of left rudder or up-aileron than you do to get that much right rudder or down aileron. The B-17s Kennedy’s working with are old airplanes that should be in the bone yard. In many cases, they’re made up of parts cannibalized from three, four, five airplanes. They’re harder than hell for a pilot to fly. Trying to fly them with radio-actuated servomechanisms is damned near impossible.
Power enough to put one into a dive, power enough for that much cable movement in other words, often won’t raise the nose perceptibly when it’s applied the other way. But servomotors give you the same pull in both directions. You follow?” Stevens nodded.
And that’s empty,” Canidy said. “We haven’t even tried flying them with a load.”
“Would it be easier–more possible–if Kennedy had new airplanes?” Stevens asked.
“Some, not much, but some,” Canidy said.
I’ll check on that,” Stevens said. “And Dick, you just said ‘we’ haven’t tried flying. You are not to fly Aphrodite aircraft. If that sounds like an order, it is.” “I know,” Canidy said, dryly sarcastic. “Like a vestal virgin, I’m being saved for something important, right?” “Yes,” Stevens said, aas a matter of fact, you are.” Stevens took the front page of the Frankfurter Rundschau from the table and put it back in its envelope.
“That’s it,” he said. “You can go back to your party.” [FOUR] Broadcant Sourordod, Engl’dd lols Sourn 8 January 1943 The producer in the booth pointed his index finger at the left of two men sitting in the studio. The man he pointed at leaned barely forward. i, This is the overseas service of the British Broadcasting Corporation,” the man said.
The producer pointed his index finger at the engineer in the booth beside him. The engineer lifted the balls of his fingers from the edge of the phonograph record he had cued.
The chimes of Big Ben went out over the air. vo The producer pointed his finger at the man sitting at the right of the table in the studio.
“And now some messages for our friends in Germany,” the man said to his microphone. He read down a neatly typed list of brief, cryptic messages until he came to number eight.
“The Kurfurstendamm is slippery with ice,” he read, then read it again, slowly, with precision, “The Kurfurstendamm is slippery with ice.” The message sounded meaningless. But it would be carefully recorded in Berlin by radio operators of the several German intelligence agencies, including the SS-SD, and by the Ministry of Information, who would study it in an attempt to take some meaning from it. It would be compared with all other messages mentioning the Kurfurstendamm, or Berlin, or slippery, or ice. All possible meanings would be noted, however far-fetched, and copies would be made and distributed, so that information would be available for reference when the next “message for our friends in Germany” using any of those words came over the air. All the effort would be futile, for that message was in fact meaningless.