Friendship

Article by R. K. Wigal

This is inspired by the love of a friend whom I love dearly in return.

Friendships Intrigue me.  Of the two more prominent relationships in life – couples in love on the one hand, one-on-one close friendships on the other – I have the greater interest in friendships.  There is something magical about them.  I am in awe of them.

Eric Erickson was an American born Swedish citizen in the oil importing and exporting business.  His company was international in scale and his business dealings included German oil firms and petroleum executives.  He also spoke German fluently.  In December of 1939, he was approached by a representative of allied intelligence and asked to spy for the allies.  He knew that in order to increase his business dealings with the Nazis he would need to display a gradual change in his views and, in time, appear far more favorable to the Nazis than he actually was.  The goal was to get him inside Nazi Germany eventually so he could gather intelligence on German oil production and on the locations of German oil refineries.

He succeeded, over the next year and a half, in convincing nearly all those around him that he had become staunchly pro-Nazi.  His Swedish friends and his family bad long since turned their backs on him, while his German friends and colleagues were becoming more favorable to him…with one exception.  Wilhelm Kortner of the German Embassy was Himmler’s top representative in Sweden who would probably have the last word in oil deals.  He was favorably disposed toward Erickson.   Bruno Ulrich, the commercial attaché of the German Legation at Stockholm, was not!  The possibility of getting inside Germany seemed remote.

One day, the opportunity to improve his travel prospects presented itself.  Erickson was lunching with an influential German businessman when he heard a familiar voice.  “Hello, Eric, how are you?”   It was one of Erickson’s oldest friends, Paul Wallenberg, a leading Swedish building contractor and a Jew.  Erickson had cut off all contact with him some time previously, but Wallenberg refused to take offense.

With the knowledge that Ulrich and Kortner were seated at a nearby table, Erickson rose and in a loud voice said, “Wallenberg, I have warned you repeatedly to stop bothering me with your disgusting Jewish business propositions.  I do not do business with Jews.  So take yourself out of here at once.”

Wallenberg, startled, turned and left without saying a word.

The next day, Erickson received a sealed note:  I cannot believe my friend has changed to this extent.  Your outburst only strengthens my conviction that all this has some special purpose.  I shall consider our friendship only temporarily interrupted.  If my guess if right, every good wish.  If I can ever be of help, let me know.  W.

Eric Erickson’s efforts throughout the remainder of the war were eminently successful.  German oil production was bombed out of existence and German aircraft, including their ominous jets, were fuel-starved into uselessness.

At war’s end, Erickson’s pro-Nazi masquerade was unmasked and he was hailed a hero internationally.  Nevertheless, he had lost ever so much that he could never regain.  However, there was one important thing he had not lost:  Paul Wallenberg - his friend.

I first read “The Counterfeit Traitor*” a great many years ago.  Some of it I never forgot.  To me, the greatest treasure a person can have is not material; it is intangible, it is unfathomable, it is the love of a friend.  I know this.  So, to each of you who are my friends I say this:  no matter what, I am now and I always shall be your friend.

*The Countrfeit Traitor by Alexander Klein; © 1958, Pocket Books, Inc.