Impossible Nazi

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Impossible Nazi Page 28

by Ward Wagher


  “But your hair is black.”

  “Uh huh. Right. So, now you see my challenge.”

  She laughed delightedly. “I think my mission is aligned pretty closely with yours. The president wants very badly for Germany and England to mend fences. We need the British fleet in the Pacific. I want America to succeed. And, if we make Director Donovan look good in the process, then that’s an added benefit.”

  “Hear, hear,” he exclaimed.

  § § §

  September 21, 1942; 9 AM

  German Embassy

  Lisbon, Portugal

  “I suppose we should be on our way,” Schloss said. “I assume we have cleared away the most pressing business.”

  “Everything left can wait,” Peter Schreiber said. “The car is waiting.”

  “What is the protocol for our arrival?”

  “The American president will arrive first. Herr Salazar will greet him. Then, Herr Churchill will arrive, followed by us.”

  “The Germans bringing up the rear, as usual,” Schloss grumped.

  “We don’t have anything to prove,” Peter said. “That burden is on Churchill.”

  Schloss laughed. “That it is. We have him in a position that can only present opportunities.”

  “That is very true, Peter. But, we must keep ourselves in a position where we can always sustain that advantage.”

  “Absolutely. Shall we go?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  September 22, 1942; 10 AM

  Hotel Avenida Palace

  Lisbon, Portugal

  Henry Wallace was the most dignified man present, thought Schloss. His suit was finely tailored and carefully fit. The tall, regal persona was well suited to the presidency. He presented a contrast to the frumpy, dumpy, rumpled Churchill, who wore a wrinkled uniform of some type. Anthony Eden looked as though he came from another age, with his dark blue high-collared jacket. Ciano and Conti were dressed in the manner that stylish Italian men were known.

  In contrast, António de Oliveira Salazar, the Portuguese prime minister could have been missed in a crowd. He was a modest man in a conservative suit and looked as though he felt out of place. As he studied him, Schloss decided first impressions were sometimes deceptive. The introductory reception was mainly a prelude to the day’s talks. The true diplomatic reception was scheduled for that evening.

  Salazar had introduced himself first to Wallace and greeted him, then Churchill, and afterward he marched over to Schloss.

  “Herr Reich Chancellor,” he cried, “welcome back to our fair city. We are delighted at your visit.”

  Schloss noticed that Churchill looked sharply at Salazar. He reminded himself not to underestimate the English prime minister. Churchill was easily the most dangerous man in the room.

  Schloss bent slightly as he shook Salazar’s hand. “The honor is mine, Prime Minister. Where better to have such an important conference?”

  “Indeed, indeed. To be honest, the British are bound to Portugal by a treaty that is almost six-hundred-years old. We have been friends for a long time. However, Germany has been a valuable trading partner, and you, Herr Schloss, have been most honorable.”

  “And we appreciate your friendship, Prime Minister. I would be disingenuous if I tried to minimize the importance of Portuguese raw materials to Germany. However, the cordial relationship is valued as well.”

  “And do you expect to conclude an agreement during this visit, if I may be so bold as to ask?”

  Schloss glanced around the room and wondered who overheard the conversation. He decided it did not matter at that moment. “I cannot speak to expectations,” he smiled, “but we certainly desire to end this madness with the English. I hope that is Herr Churchill’s desires.”

  Salazar raised an eyebrow. “Indeed.”

  He pulled a pocket watch from his vest pocket and looked at the time. “I believe the schedule calls for the talks to begin. If you will excuse me, please?”

  “Of course,” Schloss nodded his head and stepped back.

  Salazar made his way over to the double doors that led into the conference room. He turned to face the room.

  “Gentlemen, it is time. We have places marked at the table in the conference room. I will retire so you can begin deliberations. Of course, if we may be of any assistance, please let us know at once.”

  With that, he swept out of the room. Peter Schreiber eased up to Schloss.

  “Whatever you can say about the man, he has class.”

  Schloss, whose view of history was rather more complete than Peter’s nodded. “He puts on a good show. That is for sure. I think, perhaps, swimming in a pool of sharks would be less challenging than his job.”

  Peter snorted. “He seems to have the measure of the sharks. He has been adept at playing us and the English off against each other.”

  Schloss nodded and moved over to the table. The Americans had arranged the room and had him seated across from Churchill. Peter was seated across from Eden. Churchill glanced at the little man with the unruly hair who sat next to Peter. Standing behind Ben Gurion’s chair, Otto Skorzeny glowered at the British.

  “Prime Minister Churchill, allow me to introduce Dr. David Ben Gurion, the prime minister of Judaea. I requested that he attend as an observer.”

  Churchill nodded politely at Ben Gurion and focused his trademark smirk on Schloss.

  “I felt perhaps I should introduce some additional members to the allied side of the table.”

  He nodded to an assistant, who was hovering behind him, and the young man walked over to the door. Several men walked in and took their places on the allied side of the table.

  “Gentlemen, I am honored to introduce General Charles DeGaulle, the leader of the Free French; Mr. Władysław Raczkiewicz, of the Polish government in exile; Mr. Pieter Sjoerds Gerbrandy, the prime minister of the Netherlands government; and Hubert Pierlot, the prime minister of the Belgian government in exile. Since we are discussing a general settlement of the war, it is clear that all of the peoples be represented.”

  Henry Wallace sat at the head of the table and had been studying the group. He frowned at Churchill.

  “This is a bit irregular, Prime Minister.”

  “The United Kingdom has mutual defense agreements with each of these people. We insist they be represented.”

  Schloss leaned forward and raised an index finger.

  “If I may,” he said calmly. “We anticipated this issue and wish to address it.” He nodded to one of Peter’s assistants.

  The young man walked quickly over to a side door and stepped through it. A few moments later he returned with an old man, who walked carefully into the room. He was not a tall man, but he had presence. His striking feature was a full, white mustache, which contrasted his bald head.

  “Gentlemen,” Schloss said, “Allow me to introduce Philippe Pétain, the French Head of State.”

  “Traitor!” DeGaulle shouted, and he spat on the table.

  Wallace rapped on the table with his knuckle. “Gentlemen, we will maintain a civil demeanor in this room.”

  “I will not remain in the same room with this swine, this sellout!”

  “Then you are free to leave, General,” Wallace said. “I was invited to host this conference, and I will control the proceedings. You may be still, or you may leave. The choice is yours.”

  With a scrape of his chair, DeGaulle slid away from the table and stood up. He quickly marched from the room.

  Peter’s aide guided Pétain to a chair, and helped him get seated.

  “I must apologize for the outburst of my countryman,” Pétain said. “We are here to talk. There will be plenty of other opportunities to hurl invective, I am sure.”

  “Your friends are welcome to remain as observers,” Schloss said, gazing at Churchill. “However, I must remind you that each of the countries they claim to represent legally surrendered to the Reich. Now, I understand and recognize that Germany treats each of these lands as conquered
provinces. That is an unpleasant truth, but it is the truth nonetheless.”

  Churchill sighed silently to himself. His gambit had failed. Schloss was just too wily. They were going to have to do this the hard way.

  “The United Kingdom will refuse to conclude any agreement with Germany without resolving the issues of the enslaved nations,” Churchill replied. “In fact, we could not do so without besmirching our honor.”

  “Might I point out, Prime Minister that those nations that you assume great responsibility for no longer exist. We are prepared to discuss certain arrangements between these provinces and England as a part of the conference, however. I would like to see the free flow of people and commerce restored. Understand that Germany can be flexible. There are also limits to our flexibility.”

  “Shall we stipulate that the status of the conquered states is on the agenda for the conference?” Wallace asked.

  “I believe you may be asking the wrong question, Mr. President,” Churchill said. “Since the German government is illegal and all its actions have been illegal, Britain needs to present its position unambiguously. We demand that the so-called government of the German Reich surrender without conditions. That it immediately withdraws from all conquered territories. That it surrenders its governing officials to stand trial for war crimes. Also, Germany must prepare to pay reparations as determined by an Allied tribunal. With that behind us, we can then discuss the best ways to achieve normalization.”

  Churchill stared defiantly at Wallace, who stared back. After nearly a minute, the president looked over at Schloss.

  “Herr Reich Chancellor, would you care to respond to the prime minister’s statement of demands?”

  Schloss now stared at Churchill. He rested an index finger on his cheek and rubbed his upper lip with his third finger. He thought hard for a few moments.

  “Is that the position of your government, Prime Minister?” he asked.

  Churchill nodded. “It is the position of Her Majesty’s government.”

  “And is it the position of the queen? And do the people support this?”

  “The queen reflects the position of the Prime Minister...” Eden began to say. Churchill laid a hand on his arm.

  “For the purposes of this meeting we are vested with the authority of the Crown,” Churchill said. “I speak for the queen and the people.”

  “I see,” Schloss said. “So, you called this meeting, knowing that Germany would never agree to your demands. What did you expect to achieve?”

  “I expected to allow my diplomats to negotiate with your diplomats.”

  Schloss smiled. “I see. I think that much more may be accomplished if you and I speak face to face. Let me be as honest as possible.”

  “When has a Nazi been honest?” Churchill sneered. “You people have been lying for twenty years.”

  Schloss decided to ignore the insult. “Allow me to be brutally frank, then Prime Minister. Germany has not been able to conquer England. I doubt we will be able to do so. On the other hand, we own Western Europe and the Mediterranean. We hold six-hundred-thousand troops from England and the dominions in our camps. You are not going to be able to conquer us. I propose we stop the bloodshed. It will require conditions that neither of us particularly like. If we can have a generation of peace, perhaps we can begin to dismantle the issues that keep us apart.”

  “The issues that keep us apart are the agreements that the Nazis broke, one after another. How can we trust you?”

  “You cannot,” Schloss said. “You are not here because you trust us. You are here because we both know we need to end this war. If we forge a good agreement, we will both follow it out of self-interest. If not, what is the point anyway?”

  “And we are here to lend our offices to securing that agreement,” Wallace interjected. “No one expects this to be easy, but we have all the key players in this room.”

  “Most of them, anyway,” Churchill grunted.

  “If someone felt the need to leave,” Wallace commented, clearly talking about DeGaulle, “it makes it pretty clear they were not interested in securing an agreement.”

  “I cannot abandon the French like that,” Churchill replied.

  “Pétain represents the French. His is the legal government,” Schloss argued back. “To a certain extent, I understand your view. However, even the United States has recognized the Vichy regime. I am sure Monsieur Pétain does not consider himself a traitor to the French.”

  “But, he jumps to your bidding,” Churchill shot back. “He is the German lapdog.”

  “The reality is somewhat more complicated than that,” Schloss replied. “It is true that he does not have complete freedom of action. On the other hand, we have to be considerate of the sensibilities of the French.”

  “Point taken,” Churchill said. “Mr. President, Herr Reich Chancellor, what do you propose?”

  Schloss looked over at Peter and nodded.

  Schreiber looked nervous. This was his diplomatic debut. “Mr. President, Prime Minister, our proposal is simple. But, as the Americans say, the Devil is in the details. We propose to halt the war with forces as they currently sit. The Reich and Italy will return Egypt to the United Kingdom. We will mutually release all prisoners of war. The United Kingdom will cease naval warfare against the Reich. We reestablish diplomatic relations and open the borders to normalize trade, commerce, and travel. Oh, and everyone will recognize the government and the new borders of Judaea.”

  Wallace nodded. “Thank you, Herr Schreiber. That was certainly concise. Would the British care to respond?”

  Churchill turned puce and folded his arms across his chest. He looked over at Eden.

  The British foreign minister spoke. “While we appreciate the generosity of Germany and Italy with respect to Egypt, there is little else in this proposal we can agree to. We can certainly discuss the Jewish question in Palestine, but you have provided nothing of value where Europe is concerned.”

  Schloss nodded to himself. He had expected this to be a long day, and his chair was not comfortable.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  September 22, 1942; 10 PM

  Hotel Avenida Palace

  Lisbon, Portugal

  Misty Simpson stepped back as one of the stewards brushed past her with a loaded tray of food. She had finally had a chance to grab a quick meal after observing the negotiations all day. She was tired, sweaty, her feet hurt, her underclothes chafed, and she was ready to head back to the embassy. Unfortunately, the evening reception showed no sign of ending.

  She heard merry swearing in her left ear as Ralph Fennes eased up to her. “Will this evening never end?”

  “I was thinking much the same, Ralph.”

  “What? You no longer call me Ralphie?”

  “You have earned my trust,” she replied. “You are no longer a Ralphie; you are a Ralph.”

  “In that case will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked.

  She waved a finger in his face. “Now be careful, Ralph. You have not yet graduated to where I will call you Mister Fennes. We will remain simply friends and coworkers.”

  Being truthful to herself, she admitted she was becoming fond of the little weasel. He had an ingratiating manner, and he was very good at what he did. Plus, he was fun. He had guided her skillfully through the day’s activities, and his sotto voce comments were often amusing and sometimes hysterically funny.

  “Perhaps I should have clarified,” he responded. “It would simply be a friendly lunch.”

  “Ha! I’m sure it would be. We need to keep it on a high level, Ralph. Being a professional spook is a tough enough career.”

  “Oh, indeed, indeed.”

  They stood and watched the melee for a while before Fennes spoke again.

  “The president surprised me with his aplomb, today.”

  “Even if he didn’t quite back Churchill into a corner,” she said.

  “No, but it was a close-run thing. It seems to me that the prime mi
nister may have some challenges when he returns to London. He tried very hard to avoid anything that would lead to an agreement.”

  “And Schloss and Schreiber seemed to try very hard to sound reasonable.”

  “They surprised me,” he said. “For Nazis, they sounded very reasonable.”

  “Schloss and company are very different from the thugs they replaced,” she stated. “Oh, they aren’t saints, but neither are we. I am convinced they are sincerely trying to stop the war and build a stable arrangement for Europe.”

  “They don’t seem to want to move on their European… acquisitions,” Fennes commented.

  “True,” she conceded, “however, they did approach the Czech government in exile about some kind of home rule arrangement. Churchill canned it.”

  Fennes whistled. “I hadn’t heard that, Misty. When was this?”

  “It was sometime back in the spring, I think. Schloss is trying to balance what he sees as the need for a postwar structure against the demands of the more radical Nazis.”

  “I thought Schloss was calling the shots,” Fennes said.

  “He has a surprising amount of power, and also quite a bit of influence, but it is not unlimited.”

  “I hadn’t thought about his having opposition.”

  She nodded and tried to surreptitiously scratch where her girdle chafed. “Oh, yes. He has not called a party Congress out of concern for what it might do. There is a large group within the party that has been content to let him run things; even though they do not really like his direction. His solution to the so-called Jewish Problem was not what they had in mind, but it seemed to work well and elevated Germany’s prestige. There is another group of the really radical old-line Nazis who have gone underground. They are called The Munich Faction and are actively working to overthrow the government.”

 

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