(There are obvious discrepancies of dates between my version of the Wallenberg story and the official ones. For instance, the news of Wallenberg’s “death” was made public on March 8, 1945, although in my account he remained active until May 1945. By now, however, all public accounts admit that too many lies were put in circulation at the time, and that Wallenberg was certainly alive long after the end of World War II. I have looked into those official versions and found nothing tangible to contradict the version that I have been told and which I am now relating to the reader.)
Rudolf Hess, on completing his flight, splendidly successful or foolishly unsuccessful, depending on whose point of view this would be, was dutifully imprisoned (in the Tower of London of all places!), and there he spent the rest of the war, later to face the War Tribunal at Nuremberg, and life imprisonment at the Spandau Prison in Berlin. Martin Bormann, on the other hand, was, allegedly, never found after the war, and only in the 1970’s his remains were, again, allegedly, found, and positively identified.
The story of their fates, which I have learned, is a considerably different one. (Once again, I cannot point to a paper trail in its support, yet I consider it important enough as an alternative version of history to enter the public domain.) To begin with, the Russians would never have allowed their prized agent Hess to spend the rest of his life in jail. But, in order to extricate him from such a fate, they needed two things: a willing dead-ringer double for Hess to make the substitution and a sufficient leverage with the British to make the switch.
As for the double, ever since 1919, when Hess was first approached by the Soviet agents, Russia had been cultivating seven nearly-perfect Hess doubles (plus four somewhat less credible Hitler doubles, added into their collection in the late nineteen-twenties), and each of these men was always ready to stand in for their “prototype” whenever it should become necessary. These men, the Hesses, the Hitlers, and others, were all kept in secret locations in Russia. For many years they were living the identities of the real Hitler and Hess, and the only thing remaining for them was when and how, and of course whether at all, such a switch was to be made.
As for the leverage with the British, the Russians had entertained several workable options, but the easiest afforded itself to them when, in the last days of the war, they successfully captured Martin Bormann. Now all they had to do was to exchange the British asset in their hands for the Soviet asset in the hands of the British.
But the technical how of the switch was still a serious problem. The high-profile identities of Rudolf Hess and Martin Bormann carried an explosive risk in their secret exchange, should it ever be exposed, and the fewer persons were to be involved in it, the better. Even the most basic negotiation between the two parties, as to how the switch was to be conducted, presented the risk of a leak. Therefore, for this particular purpose the Russians and the Brits decided to use the most experienced negotiator of the time, who was already in, deeply in the game and physically in the theater--- the youthful Swedish diplomat and an adventurous spirit, Raoul Wallenberg, who had been, throughout the war, an indispensable go-between for the warring sides, the Russians, the British, the Americans, and the Germans, maintaining closest ties with their intelligence services, and known to be a reliable keeper of secrets.
Wallenberg eventually helped deliver the exchange, but his great usefulness once the deal had gone through, instantly turned itself into a liability: from now on he was going to be a man who knew way too much. The British side consequently signaled the Russians that, if Wallenberg were to disappear on the Russian watch, no hell would break loose. Conveniently for everyone concerned, except, perhaps, for Wallenberg himself, (although this last clause is highly arguable) the Swede did indeed disappear and was never seen (or, rather, identified as himself) again. Later on in the generous post-Soviet era of conspicuously meaningless non-stop firecrackers and historical revelations, which the Russians were churning out by the dozen at a time, a story about Wallenberg ending his short life in Stalin’s Gulag was obligingly circulated among many others, but I would not be giving it any credence whatsoever. It is far more likely that Wallenberg was condemned to be amicably pumped by the Russians for his priceless information, and, considering the nature of the business he was in, he had to be so full of it that his debriefings had to outgrow their normal course, evolving into a career. I am sure that he was treated well, and, although becoming a non-person in such a manner must not have particularly suited his extravagant taste, he was bright enough to realize early on that he had no choice in this matter, and made the best of his situation under the circumstances. I was trying to find out what had happened to him, however, but such cases are always treated with understandable delicateness, and, as soon as I finally understood that poking my nose into this, and other such cases, was considered an inquiry in bad taste, I gave up, and would be probing into these “endgames” no more.
Rudolf Hess, on completing his flight, splendidly successful or foolishly unsuccessful, depending on whose point of view this would be, was dutifully imprisoned (in the Tower of London of all places!), and there he spent the rest of the war, later to face the War Tribunal at Nuremberg, and life imprisonment at the Spandau Prison in Berlin. Martin Bormann, on the other hand, was, allegedly, never found after the war, and only in the 1970’s his remains were, again, allegedly, found, and positively identified.
The story of their fates, which I have learned, is a considerably different one. (Once again, I cannot point to a paper trail in its support, yet I consider it important enough as an alternative version of history to enter the public domain.) To begin with, the Russians would never have allowed their prized agent Hess to spend the rest of his life in jail. But, in order to extricate him from such a fate, they needed two things: a willing dead-ringer double for Hess to make the substitution and a sufficient leverage with the British to make the switch.
As for the double, ever since 1919, when Hess was first approached by the Soviet agents, Russia had been cultivating seven nearly-perfect Hess doubles (plus four somewhat less credible Hitler doubles, added into their collection in the late nineteen-twenties), and each of these men was always ready to stand in for their “prototype” whenever it should become necessary. These men, the Hesses, the Hitlers, and others, were all kept in secret locations in Russia. For many years they were living the identities of the real Hitler and Hess, and the only thing remaining for them was when and how, and of course whether at all, such a switch was to be made.
As for the leverage with the British, the Russians had entertained several workable options, but the easiest afforded itself to them when, in the last days of the war, they successfully captured Martin Bormann. Now all they had to do was to exchange the British asset in their hands for the Soviet asset in the hands of the British.
But the technical how of the switch was still a serious problem. The high-profile identities of Rudolf Hess and Martin Bormann carried an explosive risk in their secret exchange, should it ever be exposed, and the fewer persons were to be involved in it, the better. Even the most basic negotiation between the two parties, as to how the switch was to be conducted, presented the risk of a leak. Therefore, for this particular purpose the Russians and the Brits decided to use the most experienced negotiator of the time, who was already in, deeply in the game and physically in the theater--- the youthful Swedish diplomat and an adventurous spirit, Raoul Wallenberg, who had been, throughout the war, an indispensable go-between for the warring sides, the Russians, the British, the Americans, and the Germans, maintaining closest ties with their intelligence services, and known to be a reliable keeper of secrets.
Wallenberg eventually helped deliver the exchange, but his great usefulness once the deal had gone through, instantly turned itself into a liability: from now on he was going to be a man who knew way too much. The British side consequently signaled the Russians that, if Wallenberg were to disappear on the Russian watch, no hell would break loose. Conveniently for everyone concerned, except, perhaps, for Wallenberg himself, (although this last clause is highly arguable) the Swede did indeed disappear and was never seen (or, rather, identified as himself) again. Later on in the generous post-Soviet era of conspicuously meaningless non-stop firecrackers and historical revelations, which the Russians were churning out by the dozen at a time, a story about Wallenberg ending his short life in Stalin’s Gulag was obligingly circulated among many others, but I would not be giving it any credence whatsoever. It is far more likely that Wallenberg was condemned to be amicably pumped by the Russians for his priceless information, and, considering the nature of the business he was in, he had to be so full of it that his debriefings had to outgrow their normal course, evolving into a career. I am sure that he was treated well, and, although becoming a non-person in such a manner must not have particularly suited his extravagant taste, he was bright enough to realize early on that he had no choice in this matter, and made the best of his situation under the circumstances. I was trying to find out what had happened to him, however, but such cases are always treated with understandable delicateness, and, as soon as I finally understood that poking my nose into this, and other such cases, was considered an inquiry in bad taste, I gave up, and would be probing into these “endgames” no more.
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