Allen Dulles made a dismissive motion with his hand in the direction of Gisevius.
He said, “Before we get into that . . .” and took the manila envelope stamped TOP SECRET from the round marble table. He pinched its brass clasp, then opened the flap.
“My old friend,” Dulles then said, “the reason I asked you here tonight was to share some important, but possibly upsetting, information.”
“What upsetting information?” Kappler said.
Dulles pulled out a stack of black-and-white eight-by-ten-inch photographs and handed the top few to Kappler.
“And these are?” Kappler said as he looked down.
“Photographs shot only days ago, before and after Operation Chastise. We received them this afternoon. The ones you hold were taken by a photo-recon Spitfire aircraft at first light two days before the mission.”
Kappler noted that the first photograph had a time stamp in the lower right-hand corner. It read: 0715 14 MAY 43. The photograph showed the bold rays of the early morning sun painting the bucolic valley in warm tones. The low angle of the sun cast long, dramatic shadows from the tall trees and church steeples.
“Yes, the Ruhr is wonderfully peaceful at that hour,” Kappler said. “Before the war, it was among my favorite times, simply sitting and enjoying my strudel und kaffee mit crème as the day came to life. I very much miss it.”
Dulles then handed him another few photographs.
“These were taken three days later,” he said simply.
Kappler looked, quickly turned them toward the light for a better look—and caught himself in a gasp.
“Ach du lieber Gott!” he whispered.
Under the layer of industrial haze, what looked like a blanket of morning fog, with only the treetops and steeples rising above, was actually the morning sunlight reflecting on a torrent of floodwaters.
“The western Ruhr Valley, it is flooded!”
“Yes. The dams were bombed.”
“How is this true? How did they get past the German defenses? And past the underwater torpedo netting that protects the dam itself?” He paused, then added, “And why have I not heard about this?”
Gisevius answered: “The British used a new ‘bouncing bomb’ dropped from specially modified Lancaster Mark III aircraft.”
“‘Bouncing bomb’? How do you know of this?”
Gisevius, with a flip of his hand, gestured for Dulles to answer.
Dulles explained: “As I understand it, somewhere around twenty Royal Air Force bombers descended almost to the surface of the reservoirs, and then released these new bouncing bombs, after first spinning them backward, so that they skipped stone-like across the surface until they hit the dams. The Lancasters managed to get in and out of German airspace by flying at treetop level to avoid being picked up by radar or spotted by antiaircraft. Which of course was extremely hazardous; at least one aircraft crashed after striking power lines. Three of the Lancasters in the first wave of eight either were shot down or crashed.”
“It is unbelievable,” Kappler said.
“That is what the Nazis want everyone to think,” Dulles said. “But, as you see, the mission was highly successful.”
“And,” Gisevius said, “that is why you have not heard about it. It is a black eye for Hitler that they want kept quiet.”
Dulles added, “Beyond the success of bombing of such critical German assets—once considered untouchable—this act also keeps Hitler on the defensive, holding back troops that could be put, for example, on the offensive in Russia.”
And on the French coast, Dulles thought but would never mention, in anticipation of a cross-channel invasion.
Kappler nodded, then turned to the next photograph.
He made a face and shook his head in shock. The picture showed the 112-foot-tall limestone Möhne dam—and the enormous jagged gap in its middle. The three-thousand-acre lake, surrounded by gnarled oak and ash trees, looked to be at least half-drained. Water still cascaded over the lip of the hole.
“This breach in the Möhne,” Kappler said softly, “it looks to be about eighty meters wide and at least that deep.”
Kappler rapidly flipped through the stack.