Are you willing to undertake a dangerous mission behind the enemy lines, knowing that you may never return alive?
What you have just heard is the question asked during the war of agents of the OSS.
Ordinary citizen, to this question answered, yes.
This is Hope and Dagger.
Black warfare, espionage, international intrigue. These are the weapons of the OSS.
In today's adventure, the role of Vince Keller, an American OSS agent who made a sales trip inside Hitler, Germany, is played by stage and screen star Mel Ferreira, currently to be seen with Joan Fontaine in the RKO picture, Born to be Bad.
Today's story is suggested by actual incidents recorded in the Washington Files of the Office of Strategic Services.
A story that can now be told.
The night had started to fall by the time I found the house. I stood out in the pavement and peered at it through the shadows.
There wasn't anything strange or ominous about it. It was just a white frame house like the kind you see back in Omaha.
Only this wasn't in Omaha.
This house was number 28, Ahoenstrasse in Osnabruck. And Osnabruck was in Germany, Hitler's Germany.
I drew a deep breath and went up the front steps clutching a briefcase in my hand.
It was that briefcase that made me look like a respectable German citizen.
I looked at the brass knocker and let it fall a couple of times.
And then I waited.
Yes? What is it that you want?
She was younger than I expected and prettier.
And of course she was suspicious.
You were suspicious of everybody in those days, if you were a German.
Particularly the kind of German I knew she was.
Well?
Frau Holtzmann?
Yes?
I'd like to talk to your husband.
My... my husband?
Herr Ludwig Holtzmann. Is he in?
What do you want to talk to him about?
Wine.
Oh. Wine.
My name is Keller. I've just come from Bielefeld. I'm a wine salesman.
Part of it was true. My name was Keller, all right, Vince Keller.
I had come from Bielefeld, but I wasn't a wine salesman.
I was an agent of the OSS, and what I had to sell was something stronger than wine.
It was organized resistance to Nazism.
I'd been at it for about a year then, almost a year since I'd sat in Colonel Metcalf's office in London.
Ah, Keller.
And told him I wanted to volunteer for the job.
You're sure that there's no trace of American dialect in your German?
Quite sure, sir. My family lived in Germany all through my childhood.
I was educated in German schools.
Mm-hmm. I see.
And, um, you know what you're letting yourself in for, Keller?
If the Nazis grab you...
I know, Colonel.
But you still want to undertake the mission, hmm?
It's important, isn't it, Colonel?
If we can step in the German underground's resistance to Hitler...
Ah, the anti-Hitler movement in Germany right now can hardly be called an underground.
No, it's merely a handful of isolated individuals in various cities.
There's almost no contact between them and no organized activity at all.
Well, that won't do us any good when our troops start moving across the German border, sir.
Exactly.
We need defective allies inside Germany.
No matter how few they are, we want them coordinated and strengthened.
That's the, um, job we'd like you to do, Lieutenant.
Is the job I'll try to do, Colonel, if the Gestapo doesn't catch up with me.
Two weeks later, I'd parachuted into a grassy field outside Düsseldorf,
and the Gestapo hadn't caught up with me yet.
After Düsseldorf came Essen, and after Essen Dortmund, and then Bielefeld,
and Hitler's secret police were still way behind.
It was at Bielefeld that I heard about Ludwig Holzmann.
The underground leader there, old Johann Wolf, slipped me his name.
So your work here in Bielefeld is finished, Kelle.
Where'd you go now?
Osnabruck, Johann. You'll be hearing from me, though.
I want to put the men there in contact with the resistance workers here.
We have been in contact occasionally.
Now then, Ludwig Holzmann has paid me a visit.
Holzmann, huh? He's the leader in Osnabruck?
He was. The last I heard, it's been several weeks.
The dress is number 28, a Hornstrasse.
Oh, good enough. I'll look him up when I get there.
You'll have no trouble introducing yourself to him since you're posing as a wine merchant.
Simply ask him if he has ever tried Dane Freiheitwein.
Dane Freiheitwein? The wine of freedom, huh?
You'll know then that he can trust you, and you, of course, can trust him.
So that's how it happened that on that September evening,
I followed Frau Holzmann into the living room of her home in Osnabruck.
Won't you sit down here, Kelle? My husband should be here soon.
He isn't home then?
No, he's late this evening. He's almost always here by dinner time.
I don't know where he could... Oh, but wait, yes, I do too.
It doesn't matter, I can wait.
No, no. I'm sure he's stopped in to see a friend down the street.
I'll try to find him.
But really, I hope he won't...
He'll be very eager to talk to you. He's quite interested in... in wine.
Oh, is he?
Yes. He would not want to keep you waiting.
You stay right here and make yourself comfortable. I'll get him.
Wouldn't it be easier to call your friend's house on the telephone?
The telephone? I wish I could, Herr Kelle, but we had a heavy air raid in Osnabruck last night.
The telephone is out of order.
It was a hasty exit she made. Almost too hasty.
I sat there in that empty house for a minute or two where she had said to make myself comfortable.
But somehow I wasn't, Harry. So I got up and went over to the telephone.
What number do you wish, please?
I was under the impression, operator, that this line is out of order.
You're mistaken, sir. This line has not been out of order today.
That gave me something to think about while I waited.
I think better when I'm moving. So I began to move around the Holsmann house.
I peeked into rooms, even opened drawers, but I didn't find anything.
In fact, I didn't even know what I expected to find.
When the front door opened, I was back in the living room trying to look comfortable.
I was right, Herr Keller. I found him drinking beer with our friend.
Caught in the act, Herr Holsmann.
I'm afraid so. Well, please sit down, Herr Keller.
Thank you.
You are a wine salesman, my wife tells me.
Yes, I am. And she tells me that you're very interested in wine.
That's true.
Sort of a connoisseur, perhaps?
You might say so, yes.
Like our mutual friend in Bielefeld, who suggested that I call on you.
And who was that, Herr Keller? What was his name?
It must have been the lie Frau Holsmann had told about the telephone that made me hold back.
It must have been the way she stood there, listening so intently, so eagerly.
That was why I brushed aside his question, and that was why I said nothing about the wine of freedom, even when he asked...
Tell me, Herr Keller, do you carry dry red wine at reasonable prices?
Yes, we have an excellent Burgundy, Herr Holsmann.
From where?
Why, from Chamberlain.
Ah, Chamberlain. What year, Herr Keller?
1927.
1927? Huh?
I don't think we'd be interested in buying any of your wine.
But Herr Holsmann...
In fact, we'd appreciate it if you'd go peddle it somewhere else.
Now, wait a minute.
Any authentic wine merchant would know that the great frost of 1927 killed the crops of Schabertor.
You might tell the Gestapo that before they send you out again.
I caught on then and I almost left.
He thought I was a Gestapo agent. That explained it.
Maybe it even explained his wife's peculiar behavior.
I'd been too busy suspecting them to consider how deeply they must have been suspecting me.
Here's your hat, Herr Keller, and your case.
Thanks, Holsmann. But before I go, there's another wine you might enjoy.
So? What is it?
Dane Frye-Hide wine. Have you ever tried it?
Yes, I have.
You like it?
Oh, I like it very much.
Perhaps you'd care to hear a little more about it.
Well, me and sir, you should have mentioned it before.
Sit down, Herr Keller, and tell me, tell me all about the wine of freedom.
After that, we were all friends. Nobody suspected anybody anymore.
I told them what I'd accomplished in Bielefeld and the other towns,
what I hoped to accomplish in Osnabruck.
Their eyes glowed as they heard of the growing strength of the anti-Hitler forces within Germany.
Then we are not as isolated as we sometimes think, Herr Keller.
You have a lot of friends, Frau Holsmann. My job's to put you in touch with them.
And how will you do that?
Well, I'd like to start with a meeting of your friends here in Osnabruck. How many are there?
Only a few we actually know personally. Maybe six, seven.
Well, that's enough. You think you could get them all together in a safe place tomorrow night?
We would have to work quickly.
It could be done, though.
I think so, yes. Yes, I'm sure it could, but I'd have to start working on it right away.
By phone?
Well, we never use the phone here, Mrs. Surgent.
In front of strangers, you even pretend it's out of order, huh?
No. You checked up on me after I left here, Herr Keller.
Well, I was even beginning to wonder if you were a Gestapo agent yourself, Frau Holsmann.
Oh, you needn't wonder anymore, Herr Keller. Linda is as reliable as I am.
You can trust her just as you would trust me.
And then he left me alone with her while he went out to start rounding up his friends.
She insisted I must be hungry, and she led me out into the kitchen and gave me the dinner she'd cooked for her husband.
Poor Ludwig. I don't suppose he'll get anything to eat tonight.
He should have eaten before he left.
Oh, you do not know him, Herr Keller. This underground work is his life.
Food means nothing to him. He goes without sleep. He never has a moment of pleasure.
Nothing matters to him but fighting the nuns.
Not even I, the woman he married.
I guess that's the way a man gets in the underground after a while.
Yes. He gets hard and cold and calc.
Like Ludwig Holsmann.
Well, never mind that. If you will excuse me, Herr Keller, I want to go upstairs and get your room ready.
You'll sleep here tonight, of course.
Well, don't go to a lot of trouble, please.
No, no. It will take but a moment. You finish your dinner. I'll be right down.
But the strange thing was that she never went up.
At least I didn't hear her go up. I waited for her footsteps on the stairs,
and when there was no sound, I left the table and pushed open the door a crack.
I saw her then in the living room, but her back to me, her head bent over the telephone.
I can't explain to you now.
I heard her too.
No, no. Don't ask me. Just do what I tell you.
Don't come here. Whatever you do, meet me by the bandstand in the park.
Be there in half hour and wait for me. I'll come as soon as I can.
Frau Holsmann could do a lot of tricks with the telephone.
I wondered if she could explain away the second one as easily as she'd explained away the first.
I didn't ask her though. I let her show me up to my room a half hour later, and I told her good night.
Good night, Herr Keller. If you need anything, call me. I'm in the room at the end of the hall.
You're going to retire now, Frau Holsmann?
Yes, I think I will. I'm very tired. I don't believe I'll wait up for Ludwig.
Well, thanks again.
Not at all. Good night.
Good night.
I'd been tired myself, but I felt wide awake then.
I went to bed though. That is, I went through the motions of going to bed with all the proper sound effects.
I let my shoes drop loudly on the floor.
Then after I'd quietly put them on again, I opened the window and flipped the light switch.
After that, I waited silently by the door.
She must have taken off her own shoes to tiptoe down the stairs because I didn't hear her go.
But she shouldn't have let the front door close quite so hard.
I did hear that. Then I moved fast. Out of the bedroom, and down the stairs, and out the front door.
But I closed it quietly.
She must have been 30 yards ahead of me when I reached the street.
I didn't try to close the distance between us. It was easy enough to follow her.
The sidewalks were practically deserted.
She didn't look back once.
A woman who's walking as eagerly, as determinedly as Linda Holsmann was walking doesn't bother to look back.
We reached the park in 20 minutes. It was deserted too.
She stayed on the gravel walk, and I slipped through the bushes.
And then I did close in on her.
She approached the bandstand. A figure separated itself from the shadows and came toward her.
Linda!
I was crouching behind a shrub three feet away by then.
Here I am.
I saw that the figure wore a Nazi uniform.
What's happened? Why did you call me?
I'll tell you.
Amstrad kissed me.
He kissed her.
And they were both lost to me.
So lost they didn't even hear the planes start whining through the night.
I heard them, but I didn't move.
There was something else I had to hear.
Something that might prove more fatal than a British bomb.
Now tell me, what was the meaning of that cabin call?
Paul, listen.
We'd better get to a shelter.
There's one at the other end of the park.
Come on, Paul. Hurry.
But tell me first what has happened.
We won't be able to talk in the shelter.
It's an OSS agent.
What?
An American spy. He's at my house now.
My house?
An American spy? He has not stopped.
Paul, the ride over! It's not!
No, you're coming now. It's too late.
Down, Linda. Throw yourself down.
The Nazi was right. It was too late to run.
The Tommies were dropping bombs all over town.
Linda followed his advice and so did I.
I flung myself on the soft ground behind those shrubs.
I can't hear life.
The last bomb landed in the park.
I raised my head at last.
There was only a pile of rubble where the man stand had been.
Linda.
I heard the Nazi calling her name.
Linda.
There was something in his voice that brought me to my feet.
It was the tone of a man who called when he doesn't expect an answer.
Linda, do you hear me?
He caught him. He's dead.
Anything I can do, soldier?
There's nothing anyone can do.
He's dead.
You sure?
Yeah.
I'm sure.
Come on, I'll get you to a doctor.
I have no time now for doctors.
Later, maybe.
But there's something I must do first.
I'm not hurt. I could do it for you.
I'd do it myself.
This information check on this Gestapo must have immediately.
He turned away and went lunging off.
You don't like to do such things.
But if a man's a Nazi and if he's going to betray you to the Gestapo,
I raise my gun.
There are other things you don't like to do either.
You don't like to tell a man that his wife is lying dead in the park.
Or what she was doing there before she died.
Not if she was kissing a Nazi soldier and selling the underground movement down the river.
But I knew it had to be done.
I went back to the big holstmann's house.
He'd already come home and was waiting for me.
I have news for you.
I have news for you too. Bad news.
But mine is good. It's all arranged already.
Oh, the meeting you mean?
Of course the meeting. Tomorrow night at eleven o'clock.
There's a bombed out church on the highway north of the tower.
There's no danger of being interrupted because the church is never used anymore.
I rounded up every friend I could.
There will be seven at the meeting. Possibly eight.
Good work, Holstmann.
Danke. Danke, Herr Keller.
But what did you want to tell me?
It...
Well, it's your wife.
My wife?
She...
Look, my friend, there's no way of breaking this to you gently.
Never mind. Just tell me. What about my wife?
She's dead, Holstmann.
She's...
She was killed in the raid tonight.
In...
Oh, no, no, no.
It...it...it isn't possible.
I'm sorry, Holstmann.
My William, I can't...I just can't...I just can't believe it.
I cannot take...
I know how hard it is for you to...
Oh, no, you don't. Don't, you...
You couldn't know because you...you never knew what he meant.
Easy. Easy, Holstmann.
I just can't help it. I can't...I'm sorry about it.
It's so hard to face.
You've faced a lot of hard things in these last few years.
I guess you'll manage to face this.
Those were nothing. Linda was everything to me. Nothing else mattered.
She was my whole life. My...
I sat there and felt like a heel.
Because his grief left me cold.
I suppose I should have felt sorry for him, but I didn't.
There was something wrong somewhere.
There was a phony note in his sorrow that I couldn't put my finger on.
Not then, at least.
Later on that night, after I'd helped him to his room,
after I'd gone to bed myself and lay in the darkness thinking about it,
I began to understand.
Hard and cold and carotid.
Like Ludwig Holstmann.
It was her voice, Linda Holstmann's voice, that told me.
Nothing mattered to me. Nothing but fighting the Nazis.
Not even I, the woman he married.
But how did that jibe with the sobbing, grief-stricken husband I'd just seen?
And after all, why should a man who'd fought the Nazis,
who'd lived with death for ten years,
why should he collapse so completely at the news of one more death,
even the death of his wife?
Oh, yes, something was wrong somewhere.
Something was very definitely wrong.
I thought I knew what it was.
And if I was right, then the Fuhrer's secret police were breathing down my neck.
He was still sleeping when I slipped out of the house the next morning.
I didn't go far.
Just across the street and two doors down to number 21, Aachunstraße.
Yes? What is it you want?
I'm sorry to disturb you so early. I wonder if you could help me.
I'm a stranger in town. I'm looking for the Holstmann residence.
Holstmann? Across the street, two doors that way, number 28.
Thank you very much.
You're welcome. Good day.
Excuse me. I think I have the right party, don't I?
That is Herr Ludwig Holstmann's house, isn't it?
It was his house.
Oh? Doesn't he live there anymore?
Herr Ludwig Holstmann died three weeks ago.
And then I knew I was right.
I turned away from the door, but I didn't have any place to go.
So I turned back again, and the man in the doorway was still standing there,
still staring at me thoughtfully.
Excuse me. Why did you want to see Ludwig Holstmann?
Well, I'm a wine merchant. I didn't know he was dead.
I thought he might be interested in some wine.
I see. Strong wine?
Very strong. A special kind called, called deathly high wine.
Ah. You're familiar with it?
Yes. I'm familiar with it.
Perhaps I could interest you.
Perhaps you could. Won't you step in?
I followed him into his house, and then I took a chance.
I told him who I was, and why I'd come to Osnabruck,
and what had happened since I arrived.
I see. Then the real Ludwig Holstmann is dead.
He was killed by the Gestapo, Herr Keller.
His own wife betrayed him.
Funny, that's just how I had it figured.
Fortunately, she doesn't know who the rest of us are,
or she would betray us too.
Not anymore. She was killed in a raid last night.
She was?
That doesn't exactly break your heart, I imagine.
On the contrary, it saves us the trouble of someday killing ourselves.
But you say she introduced another man to you as her husband?
She must have had orders to report anyone who came looking for Ludwig.
She went out and brought this man back with her.
A tall, thin chap with a black mustache.
Ah, yeah. Fritz Hebel, probably.
One of the most powerful Gestapo agents in Osnabruck.
Nice company I've been keeping lately.
That's what I don't understand. Why didn't he turn you over immediately?
What is he waiting for?
For the meeting tonight, probably.
Meeting?
He knows I'm planning to talk about the underground work in neighboring cities.
I see.
He figures he'll pick up a flock of names.
Yeah, yeah.
He'd never ask me for the names directly for fear he'd look suspicious.
Ah, yeah. But who does he intend to bring to such a meeting?
Some more Gestapo agents, I imagine.
Maybe he's bringing them over from Dortmund and Bielefeld.
And he hopes you will give him useful information, huh?
Sure. It's a nice setup.
They'll sit around and scribble down everything I say.
Then when they've milked me, they'll string me up.
How lucky that you came to my door. Now you can escape, Herr Keller.
Escape?
No, I don't think so.
What do you mean?
Seven or eight Gestapo agents all gathered under one roof.
That's awfully inviting.
But you can't go to that meeting.
Why not?
They don't know I know who they are.
You will never get out alive.
I'm not so sure.
Oh, I was pretty cocky then.
But by the time night came, I'd lost a lot of it.
I'd had to put on an act for Fitz Hable all day,
pretending I still thought he was Ludwig Holtzmann,
pretending I trusted him and was sorry for his great loss.
By eleven o'clock, when he and I slipped up the mooned path that led to the church,
my nerves were pretty thin.
I'd taken a lot of risks since I'd come to Germany,
but I'd never walked into a meeting of Gestapo agents before,
every one of whom knew who I was.
They're here already. You see, Herr Keller?
I saw.
Through the clouds of cigar smoke,
I saw the narrow, hungry eyes that turned on me.
I saw the half-hidden smiles. I sensed the laughter inside them.
My friends,
my friends,
you know why we are meeting here tonight.
You know that here, if my side is a man,
an American,
we have the courage to come into this land of terror to help us.
In spite of the Gestapo agents,
he made quite a production of us.
He went on for five minutes building the enemy country,
and all the while I could hear that silent, mocking laughter.
He has succeeded.
And so now Herr Keller will tell us
of the work he has been doing in other German cities.
He will give us the names of our brothers
who are fighting in the same cause for which we fight.
He will teach us how to fight more effectively,
how to bring closer the day of final victory.
I present Herr Keller, the American.
Thanks Herr Holtzmann.
Brothers and friends,
my plans have changed somewhat.
I did intend to tell you about the resistance movement in other cities,
but I find that the resistance movement here in Osnabruck is quite impressive.
So I decided to show you an example of that instead.
If you look around you,
you will get a real lesson in how we fight,
how we bring closer the day of final victory.
It took them a minute to catch on, but not long.
Then they turned and they saw what I was pointing at.
They saw the guns of the underground that were shoved through every bombed out window.
You! All right, man, what about it?
They died, all eight of them.
Well, Colonel Metcalf had told me to help make the German underground strong and effective.
He said it had to be organized.
It was pretty well organized that night in Osnabruck.
And later in Dortmund, Bielefeld, Essen, Dusseldorf.
Soon, due in large part to Lieutenant Vince Keller of the OSS,
the resistance was well organized throughout Nazi Germany.
And once again the report of another OSS agent closes with the words,
Mission accomplished.
Listen again next week for another true adventure from the files of the OSS on...
Cloak and dagger.
Heard in today's cloak and dagger adventure as Vince Keller was Mel Ferrer, star of stage and screen.
Hebel was Herbert Berghoff, Linda, Francis Robinson.
Others were Ralph Bell, Raymond Edward Johnson, Wilma Curer, Ian Martin, and Carl Webber.
Script was written by Ken Field and music was under the direction of John Guard.
Sound effects by Chad Hill and Jerry McGee.
Engineering by George Vos.
Today's OSS adventure was based on the book Cloak and Dagger by Corey Ford and Alistair McBain.
This program was produced by Louis G. Cowan and Alfred Hollander.
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Governor Dewey of New York has endorsed the NBC Republican presidential candidate.
As General Eisenhower, during the NBC television program Meet the Press,
Dewey declared again that he himself will not be a candidate.
Then Dewey, as particular head of the GOP, said that he would urge support of Eisenhower
if the general will permit himself to be nominated.
Keep tuned to your NBC station for the later news.
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