The Hitler–Hess Deception

The Hitler–Hess Deception
Martin Allen

This edition does not include illustrations.At last, new archival discoveries reveal the truth about the German Deputy-Führer’s incredible solo flight to Britain in May 1941, and explain the British government’s sixty-year silence as to what the Hess mission was all about.On the night of 10 May 1941, in one of the most extraordinary and bizarre incidents of the Second World War, a Messerschmitt-110 crash-landed on a remote Scottish hillside. Its pilot, who had parachuted to safety, was Rudolf Hess, the Deputy-Führer of the German Reich. Hess’s remarkable solo flight was immediately dismissed in both Britain and Germany as the deranged act of a disordered mind. He was disowned by Hitler, and Winston Churchill’s government insisted that his unexpected arrival on British soil was of no lasting consequence.Nevertheless, the mysterious circumstances of the flight, and Hess’s unbroken silence during fifty subsequent years of imprisonment, have led to endless speculation as to his true motives. Until now, no one has found the crucial pieces of evidence which prove that a small group of men within the British government and intelligence services were in fact conducting a brilliantly clever plot which was not only to lead to Hess’s flight, but would also have a decisive impact on the course of the war.Martin Allen’s researches in archives in Britain, Germany and the United States have unearthed many documents previously undiscovered by historians. The details they reveal are explosive, and alter our perception not only of the conduct of the Second World War, but of the secret forces which shaped post-war Europe and global politics.

Maps (#ulink_5846805e-7318-57db-b659-a00e5a3e6b5e)

Greater Germany as conceived by Karl Haushofer (#litres_trial_promo)

Greater Germany and the empire in the east as perceived by the Nazis (#litres_trial_promo)

The route of Hess’s Me-110, 10 May 1941 (#litres_trial_promo)

Dedication (#ulink_7cbea1cc-de50-5260-ac51-21546dbedc63)

For Jeanie, without whose invaluable assistance this book would not have been written

Contents

Cover (#uc26c7b95-31fa-5bbe-81a2-b823c3e10148)

Title Page (#u05949b58-53aa-5665-941f-0d8332fafa32)

List of Maps (#ulink_62649770-718c-561f-a7ba-400ae701e4e0)

Dedication (#ulink_bd00b6b0-bcc5-5f78-b329-68c9a3a6e9a7)

Preface (#ulink_ab91f990-d9a3-5a50-b9b3-bef1792162e2)

Prologue (#ulink_a910c9c1-0baa-5b7f-9e66-b40a5adb50ed)

1 An Unlikely Triumvirate (#ulink_2e2b55d4-d1fc-5770-9c74-43485c94a7da)

2 Peaceable Attempts (#ulink_cc107b69-7e96-55d2-88f0-6f1b26120cbe)

3 Flag-Waving (#litres_trial_promo)

4 Negotiation (#litres_trial_promo)

5 A Tense Spring (#litres_trial_promo)

6 Someone is Expected (#litres_trial_promo)

7 An Emissary Comes (#litres_trial_promo)

8 A Fatal Decision (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Postscript (#litres_trial_promo)

Source Notes (#litres_trial_promo)

Bibliography (#litres_trial_promo)

Index (#litres_trial_promo)

Footnotes (#litres_trial_promo)

Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Preface (#ulink_3bc1e074-01da-5c50-af0b-7122685c0438)

One wet Friday morning in the spring of 2000, I found myself in the Dorset market town of Dorchester to give a radio interview about a book I had written on the politico-diplomatic events of 1939–40, called Hidden Agenda.

As I sat in the tiny broadcast studio staring at the microphone, my head clamped within a hefty pair of headphones, I little realised that within the next twenty minutes a question asked by a DJ tucked away in a BBC broadcast studio in Southampton would occupy my life for the next two years, cause me to collect many thousands of documents from as far afield as Germany, Japan, the United States and Russia, or travel many thousands of miles to interview experts and witnesses from as far afield as a nursing home in Glasgow, to a mansion in Bavaria, an apartment in Stockholm, and a townhouse on the outskirts of Washington DC.

I took a sip of water from a plastic cup, blissfully unaware that a mysterious element of the Second World War would soon prove so magnetic to my curiosity that before the end of the week I would begin a hunt for documents and people who might help me solve a mysterious affair that had taken place over sixty years ago …

Suddenly the headphones cracked into life and a disembodied voice greeted me jovially: ‘Hello. Are you there, Mr Allen?’

After a brief acknowledgement from me, the voice pronounced ‘Great! I’m cutting you in now …’ and with that music that was being broadcast to the south of England burst loudly from the headphones for a few brief seconds, before almost immediately beginning to tail away again.

‘Wasn’t that nice, just the sort of thing for a wet summer’s day,’ the DJ announced to his audience. ‘Now, as I mentioned earlier, I’ve been joined this morning by Martin Allen, who has just written a book on the Duke of Windsor which throws new light on events at the start of the Second World War. Hello Martin …’

And so the interview got under way, with much banter from the distant DJ, and some searching questions as well for he had evidently read the book and wanted the most out of the interview.

About halfway through the interview, whilst we were discussing the Duke of Windsor’s time in Lisbon, where surreptitious communication had begun between the German government and Britain’s former King at loose on a continent aflame with war, the DJ pointedly asked: ‘Given that the Duke of Windsor knew Hess, is it correct to say he was connected to Hess’s flight to Britain in May 1941?’

I paused, my immediate inclination was to answer yes, but in the nanosecond between the DJ asking his question and my considering the answer, I suddenly realised, No, it can’t be connected to Windsor. Hess’s flight to Britain was nearly a year later, and the Duke of Windsor had been in the Bahamas for much of that time. What then was the answer? I sidestepped the question, declaring that the Hess problem would not easily be solved until all the documents on the matter were released, and the interview duly progressed in another direction.

I do not really remember the drive home that day, for my mind was back sixty years in those dreadful dangerous days of 1940–41, when Britain had stood alone and fought desperately for her very survival. Ignoring the heavy traffic and pouring rain, I found myself mentally sifting through the considerable Foreign Office and Intelligence evidence I had accumulated to write my last book, sure that a clue to what took place was there somewhere, yet positive it would not be the full answer.

Rudolf Hess’s flight to Britain had taken place on the night of Saturday 10 May 1941, 10 months after the Duke of Windsor had departed Portugal aboard the SS Excalibur bound for the Bahamas where he was to become the colony’s new Governor. That the Windsors did not want to go, considered the Bahamas little more than a gilded cage with golden sands, a ‘St Helena of 1940’ as Wallis called it, was without a doubt. However, I also knew that despite still feeling himself deserving of some greater task in life, the Duke of Windsor had lost his importance to the Germans by then and become superfluous to their needs. In addition, with the Duke of Windsor’s departure from war-torn Europe, Ribbentrop’s potential as a man capable of delivering that illusive peace deal Hitler wanted had taken yet another severe knock as well, for the German Führer had finally realised that his Foreign Minister was not up to the job of ending the war with Britain. Therefore, I concluded, Ribbentrop, together with the Duke of Windsor, was unlikely to have been connected to Hess’s flight to Britain in May 1941.

What, then, was the answer?

To uncover the facts behind a wartime event that is in many respects still secret is extremely difficult, for a substantial number of key documents on this element of the Second World War have never been declassified. Against such a climate of secrecy, this paucity of available evidence, it can be almost impossible to uncover the truth, and it has to be said that one eventually learns new ways to uncover the facts.

When I had written Hidden Agenda, a French-American named Charles Bedaux had proven to be the key to revealing the Duke of Windsor’s secret activities during the Phoney War. I therefore concluded that what I needed was a new version of Bedaux; someone who had been privy to the events of 1941, but who might have escaped undue attention. Having given some thought to the Hess mystery, it occurred to me that there had been another such person, someone who had been privy to Hess’s innermost thoughts during the 1940–41 period – his close friend and personal foreign affairs advisor, Albrecht Haushofer.

What made me realise that Albrecht Haushofer might become my key to unlocking the Hess mystery was the knowledge that at the end of the war the Haushofer family itself had become a source of mystery. Great efforts had been made by Allied intelligence to investigate both Albrecht Haushofer and his father Karl Haushofer, but more intriguing still was the knowledge that certain of their papers had vanished from Allied custody. A sure sign someone had something to hide.

And so I began the chase again – a search of the world’s archives, the tracking down of persons who had worked for the British and German Foreign Ministries, associates of Haushofer, Hess, Hitler, and Ribbentrop too; those privy to certain other secret events of 1941, and finally, the not insubstantial task of reading many thousands of pages of evidence.

Slowly – by not only examining the obvious evidence, but also looking for the unobvious and spending a great deal of time pursuing dead-ends – the Rudolf Hess mystery began to give up its secrets, and what was revealed was not at all what I had expected …