Impossible Nazi

by Ward Wagher

  Attlee glanced over at Eden with a slight smile as he slid the diplomatic note from the envelope. Eden decided he had missed a previous conversation with the queen, where she had informed Attlee of her desires vis a vis the Foreign Office. He made a snap decision.

  “Very well, Your Majesty. I serve at your pleasure. At whatever point you or the prime minister decide I can no longer contribute, then I shall leave, of course.”

  “As far as I’m concerned,” Attlee said, “the war cabinet remains in place. Her Majesty has made her wishes on that very clear. And besides, it only makes sense.”

  “Whenever we decide to dissolve parliament,” the queen stated, “you two can go after each other’s throats. For now, we most assuredly need to work together.”

  “Please, Your Majesty,” Attlee said. “We are civilized people. There are ways we can murder one-another without bloodshed.”

  He completed reading the diplomatic note and passed it over to the queen. She read it carefully and looked at Eden.

  “How do you propose to respond to this?”

  “However justified the Americans may be,” Eden responded, “this is high-handed. We simply cannot surrender our sovereignty to them like that.”

  “Clement?” she asked.

  “I would have to agree with Anthony. My inclination would be to invite the Americans in as observers for the investigation. I do not think the people would stand for foreigners, even Americans, to essentially take control of our court systems.”

  “What about the extradition?” she asked.

  “I would think we would need to get advice from our judges,” Eden said. “We should consider the worst case.”

  “And that would be?”

  “That the assassination team acted at the direct orders of Churchill.”

  “I have already assumed that to be the case,” the queen said. “Winston was beginning to get erratic the past several weeks. Do we extradite him to stand trial in Washington?”

  “It would likely be New York,” Eden said. “Is that something we should accept?”

  “Is any man above the law?” she asked.

  “God, what a mess,” Attlee said. “We are simply going to have to reach some accommodation with the Americans, or they will be lost to us for a generation, if not forever.”

  “And we have got to settle matters with Schloss,” Margaret said. “I am convinced he will have his hands full governing his domain. He will be no threat to us. And, we have obligations to the Australians.”

  “But what about our obligations to the continent?” Eden protested.

  “As I told Mr. Churchill,” the queen replied, “there are friends and there is family. Unfortunately, his actions took our choices away from us.”

  “So, you think we need to accede to their demands?” Attlee asked. “I must say I’m not comfortable with that.”

  “Fortunately, they probably need us worse than we need them,” Eden commented. “However, we cannot forget the moral aspect. I guarantee you the Americans won’t.”

  “How much authority will Ambassador Winant have to negotiate?” the queen asked.

  “It sounds as though they are not in a negotiating mood,” Attlee said.

  “I don’t know,” Eden replied. “Did you have something in mind, Your Majesty?”

  “I think what we should do,” the queen responded, “is invite Ambassador Winant here to Buckingham Palace. We will impress him with our ancient heritage, and then the three of us will grovel. I plan a formal public apology, and I will make whatever private manners to the Americans as necessary. We can then twist his arm to come to an agreement. I am willing to assume that if he returns with any reasonable agreement at all, the American government will be delighted. I suspect the American people will be ready to come after us with torches and pitchforks when the details of what really happened come out.”

  “And, Minister Eden?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  “Have our ambassador in Lisbon send a note to his counterpart in the German embassy requesting that we reconvene the conference.”

  He bridled briefly, wondering why Attlee was allowing her to give the orders. But, then this government had not exactly covered itself in glory. It said something for the Crown, that it was willing to step out and assume authority in this situation. There would be no positive results for the royal family, whatever happened. It had been a long time since the United Kingdom had experienced a truly strong monarch.

  “I will see that a message gets sent this afternoon,” he replied.

  “Very well,” she said. “I believe we are done here.”

  § § §

  September 29, 1942; 9 AM

  Reich Chancellor’s Office

  Reich Chancellery

  Berlin, Germany

  “We have a note from the English,” Peter Schreiber said. “They wish to reconvene the conference. And the ceasefire appears to be holding.”

  “Apparently the new prime minister is more amenable to getting the war stopped,” Schloss said. “There has not been a wholesale turnover of the cabinet, so I wonder what is going on.”

  “We do know that the queen has inserted herself into the management of the government,” Karl Rainer said. “Anecdotally, we hear she was the one that forced Churchill’s resignation. There’s no way to confirm at this point.”

  “And to think the parliamentarians thought they had gelded the king, what, one-hundred fifty years ago,” Peter said.

  The three men sat in Schloss’s office sipping their morning coffee as they reviewed the day’s agenda. Schloss made sure the full governmental council met at least weekly, but these small meetings of the triumvirate were where the business was done. Schloss was concerned that they were dangerously concentrating power at the top, but they had trouble finding competent leadership. The mid-level bureaucracy continued much as it had for the previous hundred years, and functioned about as well as a bureaucracy could. The Nazis had effectively eliminated the previous leadership and replaced it with party hacks. The Nazi leadership had been valued more for its loyalty to Hitler than for any particular competence.

  “Back to the topic at hand,” Schloss said, “How do we respond to this request?”

  “I would not automatically assume the English have had a change of heart,” Rainer commented. “I would also insist that any such conference be held in a venue where we can ensure the safety of Herr Schloss.”

  “I have to admit I am not anxious to visit Lisbon again,” Schloss said.

  “Where would we meet, then?” Peter asked.

  “It must be somewhere here in Germany,” Rainer said. “Perhaps Düsseldorf or Cologne. That would be a relatively easy flight from London. We could guarantee safe transit.”

  “Would the English be willing to travel to Germany?” Schloss asked. “They would certainly view it as risky.”

  “I think we should not give them a choice,” Rainer argued. “They were the ones who tried to sabotage the Lisbon conference. In fact, I question why we should even talk to them at all.”

  “You know why we need to do this, Karl,” Schloss said.

  “Yes, but I do not like it. Everyone knows that you were the intended target. If not for the poor judgment of the sniper we would be having a very different discussion right now. And, it would be without you.”

  “But that was not the case,” Schloss argued. “The English are in disarray. We should take advantage of that. The longer we can enforce a cease-fire, the more the people of both countries will resist a resumption of hostilities. We need to do this.”

  “Okay, but we do it in Germany,” Rainer insisted. “Every time you leave the country you are nearly killed. We do it in Germany.”

  Schloss grinned at Schreiber. “The man is kind of hard to argue with, Peter. I do not particularly enjoy being shot at. My conversation with Gisela when I returned was instructive.”

  “Do you feel like you are being fussed at by an old woman?” Schreiber asked with a
grin. He clearly intended Rainer to be the recipient of the knife.

  Rainer flashed an obscene gesture at Schreiber. “One Frau Marsden is quite enough, Peter.”

  “And in that, I heartily concur,” Schloss laughed. “Although she said little this time when I returned.”

  Rainer looked thoughtful. “Apparently Frau Marsden has a look-a-like in Lisbon.”

  “What do you mean?” Schloss said quickly.

  “As you know, the First Secretary of the American embassy here was in Lisbon. She originally raised the alarm.”

  “Why don’t you just say it was Misty Simpson, Karl?” Schreiber said. “Everybody knows about you and her.”

  “As I was saying,” Rainer continued, “Miss Simpson encountered an old woman in the ladies room, who warned her about an attempt on Herr Schloss’s life. She said that the woman bore a remarkable resemblance to Herr Schloss’s housekeeper. What no one could establish was how that an old woman like that could know what was getting ready to happen.”

  Schloss was thoughtful. Frau Marsden knows where I came from, and has been helping me. I wonder if is possible for her to have been in Lisbon. Or I wonder if there are more like her. I do not like these mysteries.

  “Pfennig for your thoughts, Hennie,” Schreiber coaxed. “It looks like you’re a thousand miles away.”

  “Just reliving that night, Peter. It was frightening.”

  “I wonder if President Wallace had time to realize what was happening,” Schreiber said. “He was unconscious when they carried him back into the hotel.”

  “I feel a little guilty,” Schloss said. “At that moment, my first thought was that our entire strategy of rapprochement with the Americans was in ashes. I only later considered President Wallace personally.”

  “Which brings me to the next item,” Rainer said.

  “Go ahead Karl,” Schloss said. “Probably a good time to change the subject.”

  “Related to the previous topic, it seems that the Americans delivered an ultimatum to the English. Everyone in Whitehall was talking about it. I’m surprised it’s not in the English papers. The demands included a resumption of the conference. And, the item that set everybody off, they demanded they send people to England to conduct the investigation.”

  “Do they have any way to back up those demands?” Schreiber asked. “That would be a healthy affront to English sovereignty. It seems to me that the Americans need the English worse than they need the Americans.”

  “Funny you should say that Peter,” Schloss commented. “It is interesting that one would think American policy would tilt towards the English, but they seem to be very much aligned with us.”

  “I would interpret it as a much more neutral stance,” Rainer said. “They have a major problem in the Pacific, and they don’t want to worry about the Atlantic.”

  “Roosevelt was an anglophile,” Schloss said. “Wallace must have been an unwelcome surprise to Churchill. Now we have Truman to deal with. I wonder where he stands.”

  “You met him,” Rainer said. “What do you think?”

  “I liked him,” Schloss replied. “He says what he thinks. There is no question in my mind that he puts America first. “Nonetheless, it appears the Americans are determined to continue with the peace process. Peter, go ahead and respond to the note. Pick a town in Germany to keep Karl happy. The English will have to deal with it.”

  His eyes twinkled at Rainer, who scowled.

  “Now, what else do we have? I have to fly up to Bremen to look at the new U-boat design.”

  “How’s that going?” Rainer asked.

  “Goering assures me that they are ahead of schedule. But it makes him happy when I show up for an inspection.”

  “I thought they were building it in Italy,” Rainer said.

  “We have one building in Germany, and one in Italy. We will do the sea trials in the Mediterranean, and incorporate the changes in Bremen. That way we don’t have to split the engineering team. We can get into series production more quickly. Or, so Hermann says.”

  “And do you think the Reichsmarshall knows what he is talking about?” Peter asked.

  “Oddly, yes,” Schloss answered. “Our Hermann is no fool.”

  The look on Rainer’s face indicated he thought otherwise, but he said nothing.

  “I have one other item,” Schreiber said. “I thought this would be good to put on the agenda for the council meeting.”

  He opened a copy of the Berliner Zeitung and held it up. The headline shouted Impostor in the Reich Chancellery?

  Schloss groaned and put his hand to his head. “I saw that this morning. Or rather, Frau Marsden made sure I saw it.”

  “At least the paper is treating it humorously,” Schreiber said.

  Rainer had a grim look on his face. “I just wish that whole story would die. Somebody keeps pumping it up for whatever reasons. All it does is raise questions in peoples’ minds about Herr Schloss. We do not need that.”

  “It actually may help us,” Schloss said. “If we ignore the story, or laugh about it when the question comes up, it may defuse things.”

  “I’d like to light a fuse under Canaris. This has to be coming from him.”

  “Not necessarily,” Schloss said. “Canaris did not originate this.”

  “Perhaps we could sweat a couple of doctors,” Rainer said.

  “I think we need to leave them alone,” Schloss said. “The last thing we can do is appear to take this seriously.”

  “But, I take it very seriously.”

  “You know what I mean, Karl. Let it be.”

  He nodded reluctantly. He had made up his own mind to continue his quiet investigation. This was potentially far more dangerous than people realized, and he wondered why Schloss did not understand that.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  October 31, 1942; 11 PM

  Offices of Gauleiter Cologne-Aachen

  Cologne, Germany

  Chairs slid back and the men on either side of the table rose and shook hands.

  “I believe we have an agreement,” Peter Schreiber said.

  “Thank God,” Anthony Eden replied. “I must admit I was skeptical, but I believe between Germany and the UK, we have an opportunity to build a lasting peace for Europe.”

  “I trust that will be the case,” Schreiber replied.

  They turned and shook hands with Cordell Hull.

  “Mr. Secretary,” Eden said, “thank you for being the intermediary. And, also for your encouragement to conclude an agreement.”

  Hull nodded his head. “I am delighted to be able to serve in this capacity, in spite of the tragedies we have seen.”

  Eden colored and looked nonplussed. Schreiber smoothly interrupted. “With the normalization of relations, I truly hope we can get our economies moving again.”

  “Very true,” Hull replied. “And of course, we have to tend to that matter in the Pacific.”

  “The queen assures me that the Royal Navy is making preparations to move several flotillas to the American west coast, and to India.”

  “And Italy will, of course, guarantee free passage through the Mediterranean,” Roberto Conti exclaimed. “Our people will be overjoyed at the agreement.”

  Schreiber wondered if all Italians waved their arms and turned each statement into an exclamation. There was no gainsaying Conti’s ebullience. While the Germans were mostly concerned with halting hostilities with the British, the Italians were eager to resume trade. England had been a major trade partner prior to the war, and the blockade had hurt.

  The English had jumped at regaining control of Egypt and the Suez. Schloss had commented to Schreiber that he doubted they would be able to hold onto it over the long term. The British Empire was becoming creaky and outmoded. Judaea held the east bank of the Suez, and they had bluntly told the English they intended to keep it. And thanks to the Germans they had the firepower to back it up.

  After the long days at the conference table, Peter Schreiber felt good a
bout the agreement he would take back to Berlin for the Reich Chancellor to sign. He did not expect the freedom movements in the occupied countries to fade away, but he hoped that improved conditions would keep things in check.

  Schloss had told him he did not expect to be able to hold onto the occupied lands indefinitely, certainly not beyond a generation. The trick was going to be giving them their freedom and still protecting German interests. The government council in Berlin would certainly need to sit down and review the German strategic concerns. This peace agreement would change many of those concerns, and render others moot.

  With the shaking of hands on this evening, the world had changed. The effects of that change would sweep across the entire globe with results both good and ill. The unpredictability of this was slightly terrifying.

  “Do you believe,” Eden said, addressing Schreiber, “that concluding this agreement on the eve of All Saints Day is significant?”

  Peter smiled in response and said, “It depends upon the context of your reference. If you are referring to the church holiday, I think that would be interesting.”

  “What else...” Eden started. “Oh, the Reformation. I hadn’t thought.”

  Schreiber nodded. “That would make sense, too, I suppose. However, the Reichsprotektor is a devout Catholic and might take exception.”

  “I apologize for being inconsiderate,” Eden immediately said.

  “Oh, no,” Peter replied. “You have not offended. You have, perhaps, highlighted the main difficulty of this agreement. It will be viewed in many different ways by people.”

  “I understand. And we must be careful how we present it.”

  “Since we have concluded the agreement,” Hull interjected, “perhaps the four of us might adjourn to the restaurant across the street for a late dinner.”

  Schreiber looked at his watch. “If the restaurant is still open. Otherwise, we might need to visit the hotel restaurant.”

  “Either way would be acceptable,” Eden said.

  “Fine with me,” added Conti. “The staff here seems to be taking care of the paperwork for us.”