by Ward Wagher
“The OKW has been meeting to make recommendations on the development of new weapons. We hope to have something for me to bring to the council in the next couple of weeks.” Goering was not any better than Ribbentrop at speaking. “I have tried using your saying about Generals planning to fight the last war, Herr Reich Chancellor.”
I’m sure that thrilled them. Nothing like having an amateur telling you how to run your business, Schloss thought.
“And how are we doing on our reorganization project?” Schloss asked.
“Not as much progress there,” Goering admitted. “There is a lot of foot-dragging, and the armed forces leaders are protecting their domains.”
Schloss sighed. This type of turf warfare was endemic in the militaries around the globe. He decided it could be worse. The Japanese Army and Navy generally did not even talk to one another, and the Americans were nearly as bad. Yet, a smoothly coordinating military was one of the keys to maintaining Germany’s preeminence on the continent.
His goal of building a nation that no one would dare challenge was now more than ever within reach since the English had come to terms. But, Schloss was increasingly worried about Russia. Ribbentrop was spending large amounts of scarce hard currency to purchase and stockpile raw materials from Russia. Schloss had told him to buy enough to hold Germany through a war with the Russians. Nothing he had seen encouraged him to change that directive. He really did not want a war with Russia. Stalin was a dangerous foe.
“Very well, Hermann. You and I need to sit down and decide when would be the best time for me to intervene. This foot-dragging has gone about five kilometers beyond the bounds of reason.”
He heard Peter snort.
“Yes, Peter?”
Schreiber blushed. “Sorry. Your choice of words was colorful.”
Schloss shook his head. “The OKW has not seen colorful, yet. Yes, Hermann?”
The portly Reichsmarshall had raised a finger.
“I wonder if it might be better if you intervened now, Herr Reich Chancellor.”
Schloss studied him for a moment. It took some courage for fat Hermann to say that. I wonder if things are more serious than he has described.
“Very well, do you have a list of your proposed candidates for the new high command?”
“I have it here,” Goering said softly.
Kirche left his chair and walked to where Goering sat and retrieved the list. He then brought it to Schloss. The Reich Chancellor scanned the list and looked up at Goering.
“I know some of these men well, and they are good men. Are you confident in them?”
“Yes, Herr Reich Chancellor, I am,” Goering immediately responded.
“Are Keitel and Jodl likely to respond in a negative way?” Rainer asked.
“Keitel will do whatever we tell him to do,” Goering responded. “And Jodl will do what Keitel tells him. The rest will be no problem, either.”
“Is everyone in town right now?” Schloss asked.
“Yes, they are here for the planning session.”
Schloss glanced over at the secretary. “Willem, can we fit this into my schedule for tomorrow morning?”
“I believe we can, Herr Reich Chancellor. I will shuffle things around.”
“Hermann, what time do you want me to arrive?”
“Ten o’clock, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Goering responded.
“I will be there.”
“Anything else, Herr Reichsmarshall?” Schloss asked.
“Representatives of the American Army Air Force will arrive next week, along with two of the Boeing bombers. I have arranged for them to fly into Tempelhof. Will you be available to greet them, Herr Reich Chancellor?”
I would like very much to see a brand-new B-17, Schloss thought. “Please liaise with Willem. If he can make it work with my schedule, I will be honored to attend.”
Schloss looked to his left. “And what do you have for us today, Peter?”
“It looks as though the Judaeans have secured their borders,” Schreiber said. “They feel the equipment we gave them was the difference that allowed them to achieve this so quickly.”
“Has the fighting subsided?” Schloss asked.
“No, the Palestinian indigenes are resisting. Many do not want to leave and do not want to recognize Judaean authority. Ben Gurion is working hard to settle things down. The end is not in doubt, but the composition of the population is definitely in play. They seem to think the English will come to their aid now that we are no longer at war.”
“What is the English Sixth Army doing?” Schloss asked.
“Just sitting there,” Rainer said.
“Attlee has indicated they will remain there for training,” Schreiber said. “I think they intend to embark the troops for Australia.”
“Do the Japanese know they’re coming?” Ribbentrop asked.
“I’m sure they are reading the same tea leaves everyone else is,” Gehlen said. “Our source in Tokyo is not getting much at the moment. The English are sorting out their Atlantic Fleet, and we can expect them to surge a major task force into the Pacific. The question is where?”
“I think the Americans expect them to sail around the Horn to San Diego,” Schreiber. “As fired up as the queen is about Australia, I wonder if they might transit the Suez and pick up the troops. They might be getting ready to take a run at Australia.”
“Do they have the forces to do that?” Schloss asked.
Goering shrugged. “I think they can achieve local superiority and put troops on the ground. The question is whether they can hold it. Of more concern in my mind is whether Montgomery might decide to stir up trouble for us in the Mediterranean.”
“Does Rommel think things can be contained?” Schloss asked.
“Rommel is cocky,” Goering said. “He thinks he can do anything.”
“He has done quite a bit,” Rainer said quietly.
“I would be very surprised if the English tried something,” Schloss said. “However, I do not want to be surprised. I want all our intelligence assets in the area to not let their attention lapse.”
Everyone agreed. After completing a long agenda, Schloss adjourned the meeting. Peter slipped up to him afterward.
“Are you sure you should go visit the OKW in person, Hennie?” he asked.
“I don’t think they will give me trouble,” Schloss replied. “Besides, I’ve got Karl keeping an eye on them.”
“I don’t know, Hennie, something doesn’t feel right, here.”
“What are you talking about?” Schloss asked.
“It’s just that the Generals are simply stating they are not moving. They’re not being noisy about it, but Goering has not been able to budge them.”
“Well, you know what the military thinks of Goering.”
“I hope that is only the case,” Peter said. “Rennie wants to know when you and Gisela can bring the kids over for dinner again.”
“What is this? A change of subject?”
“I am simply being efficient with my language,” Peter replied. “It’s a German thing.”
“God save us from German things,” Schloss said, shaking his head as he walked out of the room.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
November 16, 1942; 7 PM
Reich Chancellor’s Apartments
Reich Chancellery
Berlin, Germany
“When can we go to the zoo again, Poppa?” Anna-Lisa asked in her little girl voice.
Schloss looked down at the little blond girl and marveled that he had a daughter and that she was perfection itself. Several friends had commented on how much she looked like Hannalore. Schloss felt that if Anna-Lisa was Hannalore’s legacy, it was a fine one.
He squatted down to where he was at eye-level with the little girl. “My little darling, how about if we go to the zoo this Saturday?”
“What day is today?” she asked.
“Today is Monday. We have Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to get through bef
ore we have Saturday.”
“That’s too long,” she protested.
He laughed. “It always seems like a long time. But Saturday will be here before you know it.
He stood up and walked into the bedroom where Hans Friedrich carefully operated his electric train. Karl had constructed a train table that rolled out from under the bed on casters. This allowed the boy to play with the train in his relatively small bedroom, but still have space to move about at other times. As he walked into the room the smell of ozone and warm oil told him that the railroad engineer in the family was busy.
“How’s Hans, tonight?” he asked.
“Oh, hello, Father. I did not hear you come in.”
The boy was growing rapidly and maturing nearly as fast. He speech had changed from that of a little boy to that which represented someone working at being an adult.
“And how was your day?” he asked.
“School went well,” Hans said. “I got all my arithmetic answers correct.”
“Good for you. Were they difficult?”
“Numbers are easy,” he replied. “I have more trouble with my spelling.”
“I guess that’s something we’ll have to keep working on, then,” Schloss said.
“Certain, Father. I study hard.”
And Schloss was convinced the boy did study hard. His tutors commented on his industriousness.
“And where is Mutti-Gisela?” he asked.
“She told me she had to go see Aunt Rennie about something,” Hans answered. “She said she would be back by dinner time.”
Schloss wandered back to the sitting room and met Frau Marsden in the hallway.
“Good of you to be home by dinner time, Herr Schloss,” she said. As usual, her tone of voice indicated that Schloss dare not be late for dinner.
“I have discovered, Frau Marsden, that no matter what time I leave the office, there is more work waiting when I return in the morning. So, I have decided that since the work is still there, I might as well enjoy my evenings.”
“As well you should. The children are growing up faster than you realize.”
“Oh, I have discovered that recently,” he said. “I don’t know where the time goes.”
“It flies past more quickly than you realize. Take advantage of the time you have, Herr Schloss.”
He turned to face her. “Is my time short? Is there something I should know?”
She put her hand on his shoulder. “You will live to see the results of your labors. As to your time on this Earth, I am not allowed to say. However, your children will lay you in the grave, and they will be thankful for the time that you gave them. Death is not something you need to worry over.”
“What’s going to happen? You have the look.”
“Nonsense, Herr Schloss. You cannot foresee the future; therefore, you must not worry about it. The future will take care of itself.”
With that, she brushed past him and made her way back to the kitchen. He returned to the sitting room where several bottles of lager awaited. He opened one and sunk into an easy chair with a sigh. The days were long and he considered changing his name to Sisyphus. He could never quite seem to get that boulder to the top of the hill.
On the other hand, things were going well. Concluding the peace treaty removed an enormous worry from his shoulders. The confidence of the people was growing, as was the economy. Even the conquered provinces were relatively quiet. He knew that wouldn’t last, but he decided he would enjoy that for the moment. He had solved the Jewish question in a way that would not leave decades of guilt hanging over the German people.
Problems remained, of course. The shadowy Munich Faction was still alive and active. The group of renegade Nazis, based out of Munich, managed to inject a certain amount of turmoil into the nation. Most of the people tried to ignore the pamphlets and letters sent by the group. They were considered to be the nutty fringe. Schloss still found time to worry about them. The Russians were becoming more of a worry. The slow collapse of Stalin’s country resulted in an increased belligerence on the part of the people. He feared Stalin would start a war as a way of saving his position. For that reason, Schloss knew they couldn’t afford to let Germany’s military to lie fallow. And then there was the military high command, the OKW. That was puzzling.
He looked up as Gisela walked in.
“Oh, you are home already, Hennie,” she cried. “I am sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived.”
He stood up to give her a long kiss and a hug. “No matter, Schatzi. I am happy to wait for the best part of my day – seeing you again.”
“Renate wants us to the house for dinner Saturday,” she said. “Can we do that?”
“I promised Anna-Lisa we would visit the zoo Saturday, so perhaps we could make a day of it. Visit the zoo and then head over to the house. How is Renate?”
“I think she feels terrible and does not want to admit it. The morning sickness, you know.”
“Is Peter aware of it?”
“Yes,” she laughed, “But, what can Peter do about it at this point?”
“True,” he grinned. “There are some things everyone should think about ahead of time.”
“Have you thought about it?” she asked.
He felt a thrill run down his back. “Are you expecting?”
“No. At least I don’t think so. But one never knows. Would you still love me if I were bent over the toilet each morning, emptying my stomach?”
He put his arms around her again. “Of course. I will always love you. You are precious to me.”
Frau Marsden entered the room. “Ah, Frau Schloss, you are home. Dinner can be ready at any time.”
“I do not think we should keep Frau Marsden waiting,” Schloss said.
She chuckled softly. “If there is food on the table, I don’t believe you would ever keep Frau Marsden waiting.”
“If he knows what is good for him,” Frau Marsden said as she turned and walked back towards the dining room.
§ § §
November 16, 1942; 9 PM
OKW Headquarters
Berlin, Germany
Alfred Jodl stood in the small room with several Wehrmacht officers standing in a semicircle around him. The single light bulb in the ceiling cast shadows on the brick walls, and there was the slight mustiness of the basement in the air. There was an underlying hint of anticipation among the officers.
“This will be the last time we meet before we have completed our tasks,” Jodl said. “Does everyone understand what they must do?”
“Herr General, have we confirmed our resources in the SS and the Foreign Ministry?”
“Yes, Colonel. For obvious reasons, I could not bring them here for this meeting. They have been sent the coded message to execute, so it would be very difficult to stop things at this point.”
“What about Keitel?” another asked.
“Keitel will do whatever we tell him to do, which is fortunate. He has an important role.”
“I still think we should have a fallback,” a third officer commented. You yourself taught us to always have a Plan B. The risks here are enormous.”
“Are you with me or not, Sigfried?” Jodl snapped.
“Of course, Herr General. I am with you. I support your aims. We must do this. But, no plan survives first contact with the enemy. Surely you know that.”
“I understand what you are saying. And, make no mistake, there is an incredible degree of risk here. But, in this case, if the plan runs into trouble, you must improvise. You all know the objective.”
“Of course, Herr General,” Sigfried said.
“We will make our move tomorrow morning at 10 AM.”
The officers all saluted and quickly left the basement room. Jodl also left and returned to his office. There was a lot to do before the next morning. Before sitting down at his desk, he walked over to a table along the wall. Selecting a bottle from the collection, he poured himself a generous measure of brandy and carried it to his desk. A l
ittle fortification was sometimes necessary. General Keitel stepped into the doorway of his office.
“Ah, Alfred. Working late again, I see.”
Jodl stood up. “Yes, Herr General. It seems like the work never ends.”
Keitel smiled and nodded his head. “I have often discovered that the work is still here the next morning. There are times, of course, when you cannot leave the office. But, I am not aware of any major exercises in the offing.”
“Other than our meeting with the Reich Chancellor tomorrow, I suppose,” Jodl replied.
Keitel grimaced. “I am not sure what to expect from that meeting. We have made our objections to the Reichsmarshall’s proposed changes abundantly clear. Surely Herr Schloss knows that our big Hermann is barely competent.”
“Perhaps we will have the chance to express those concerns directly to the Reich Chancellor,” Jodl said. “I certainly do not propose that we go down without a fight.”
“That’s what I like to see,” Keitel stated. “We cannot simply be yes-men to our country’s leadership. We must courageously express our opinions. We are, after all, the military professionals here.”
Jodl nodded. “I very much agree, Herr General.”
“Well,” Keitel continued, “do not stay too long tonight. Tomorrow will be a busy day, and you need to be fresh for it.”
“Of course, Herr General, I was just wrapping things up.”
“Very well. Have a good evening Alfred.”
“Good night, Herr General.”
Jodl watched as the General left the doorway. His footsteps echoed as he headed down the hall. Jodl shook his head as he sat back down in his chair. Idiot!
§ § §
November 16, 19442; 10 PM
Zeppelin Bunker
Wünsdorf, Germany
Heinz Guderian was a puzzled man. There was a lot of activity on the base and in the communications bunker for a Monday night. No exercises had been scheduled, and no one told him about any operations in progress. Although he was not widely liked by the OKW brass, he was respected. Since he had the duty this evening, he felt he needed to be on top of things. Whatever was going on was slippery. He could not get his hands around it. The officers in the communications center made sure he saw the operations messages that came from every corner of the Reich.