Beyond the Shield

by Nachman Kataczinsky

  Halder picked it up and read it out loud: “Reichsführer of the SS Heinrich Himmler was assassinated at noon today by a rocket hitting his home. The chief of the Gestapo was assassinated this morning by means of an explosive device under his car.”

  “My Fuehrer, none of us are traitors and none of us are assassins,” Halder said quietly. “We are all German patriots and would lay down our lives for Germany.”

  Hitler visibly took control of his emotions. “What do you suggest we do about the enemy infesting Austria?”

  Halder took a deep breath, “We suggest suing for peace. If they decide to attack, we can’t stop them. This is also true for the combined British and French forces. At this point it’s not too late to achieve a honorable peace.”

  “Peace? With the Judeo-Bolsheviks that scared you at Innsbruck? General Halder you are dismissed. The Gestapo and the SA will look into your treasonous activities. Guards!”

  The door opened and a detail of Wehrmacht soldiers entered.

  Hitler looked at them with surprise. “Where are my SS guards?”

  Halder took a step forward and pointed at Hitler. “Captain, arrest this man as a traitor to Germany. Take him to the Spandau Prison. They have a special cell ready for him.”

  The captain clicked his heels, saluted and put handcuffs on the surprised Hitler. The Fuehrer was escorted, not too gently, downstairs and into a waiting military command car.

  Halder turned to the others present. “Gentlemen, I hereby declare Germany to be under martial law. The ruling body, for the time being, will consist of a military committee with a civilian at its head.

  “As we have agreed previously, the civilian head of the Emergency Committee for the Welfare of Germany is Carl Goerdeler. The following generals will be members: Franz Halder, Ervin Rommel, Erick von Manstein and Günther von Kluge.

  “The first order of the Committee is as follows: All known agents of the Gestapo and SA are to be arrested immediately and imprisoned. The same applies to all senior Nazi party functionaries. A radio transmission announcing the new interim German government will be made within the hour.”

  The door opened and Field Marshall von Kluge entered. “Gentlemen, apparently word of Hitler’s arrest leaked out. Several SS units, about company size, are attempting to take this building. We will see very shortly who is supporting whom in this new arrangement,” he said with a predatory smile.

  Halder again addressed the assembled officers. “As the Field Marshall said, soon we will know who is loyal to whom. In the meantime those of you who feel uncomfortable supporting the Committee and helping us save Germany from a disaster may stay on the sidelines. You will not be harmed as long as you don’t interfere with us.” This announcement caused some movement among the assembled. Several generals and a couple of colonels moved to one side of the room.

  “Those who have decided not to participate are free to leave.”

  Before the group left, a young lieutenant burst into the room. “General Halder, sir, there’s some fighting at the Spandau Prison, but it’s still under Wehrmacht control. The Fuehrer, excuse me, herr Hitler has been delivered there and is being held in a solitary cell.”

  After that several officers in the small group opposing the coup moved back. The rest of the group left. The others got to work: telephones, radio messages and runners to units from the East Front to France notifying them of the current situation and giving orders of new dispositions.

  ***

  The Hirshson family assembled at the Rothstein’s house in Rehovot. The living room was large enough to comfortably accommodate more than the twenty people. Most of the youngsters were in what David Rothstein called his ‘study’ but was in fact the room where he and Rachel enjoyed watching TV.

  More than an hour was left before candle lighting and the Sabbath. The men had nothing much to do except talk. Some of the women volunteered to help in the kitchen but were promptly expelled by Rachel and Sarah, Ze’ev’s grandmother.

  Ze’ev’s wife Linda asked Evelyn Mosowitz, “Is the transition to Israel from the U.S. very difficult for you?”

  “Yes and no,” Evelyn replied. “All the gadgets are bewildering, I know only a couple of words in Hebrew, but everybody is very nice. Most of the people understand English and I also speak some Yiddish so it’s not too bad. You sound like a native English speaker. Are you from the U.S.?”

  “I was born and raised in Detroit and came here with Ze’ev, whom I met while he was at MIT, many years ago. As to the many English speakers here, don’t let it fool you into skipping the ulpan,” Linda said, “especially as they’re offering you a free immersive one.”

  “What’s an ulpan?” Evelyn inquired. “Is it some kind of school?”

  “Exactly. After a month or so you will be able to understand most of what the natives say and to respond in Hebrew. The immersive part is important: you speak nothing but Hebrew for the duration. It’s very effective.” She was about to add more but was interrupted by one of the Shaviv kids who ran into the room and shouted: “The TV says there is important news from Europe.”

  The TV was tuned to Channel One, normally broadcasting children’s programs in preparation for the Sabbath. The broadcast had been interrupted. “…This is all the news we have for now. Again, approximately two hours ago, German radio interrupted its regularly scheduled broadcasts and announced that Germany is now under full martial law. The government has been replaced by what they call ‘The Emergency Committee for the Welfare of Germany’. The new government is removing the Nazi party from power and suing for peace. This is all we know. We will now return to our scheduled programming. More details in the news magazine at nine this evening.”

  The room was quiet for a minute. Then Tzila Frumin said, “Maybe Wolf will not have to go back to Austria?”

  “It’s likely that by the time he’s ready to go, the fighting will be over. But don’t build up your hopes. A lot can go wrong and they might need him elsewhere,” Ze’ev responded.

  After the meal was mostly finished Jacob addressed Ze’ev. “I had a discussion with Uncle Chaim about a new business. He doesn’t agree with me. Let’s see what you think: I want to start a computer manufacturing company. Many small mom and pop establishments assemble computers but the market is wide open for mass production. I think this is an opportunity, especially since computers are so hard to come by.”

  Before Ze’ev could respond Noam Shaviv intervened. “Does that mean that I need to look for a new surveying firm?”

  “No, no,” Jacob responded. “The idea is that Chaim will continue to run the surveying company just like he does now. I will start a new business but will be available to help with the surveying if necessary. We have several licensed surveyors working for us now, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Ze’ev smiled. “Do you intend to run the company from your college dorm?”

  “I have a small apartment next to the university, not a dorm room. Why? Is this important?”

  Ze’ev shook his head. “Just an out of time reference. Many years in the future there was a young man who went to college and started such a company from his dorm room. His name was Michael Dell. He became a billionaire.

  “It’s a great idea, but you’ll have to overcome supply problems. Storage media, displays, and other parts are in short supply.”

  “I guess I’ll have to read up on how Dell did it and try to apply his lessons to the current situation. It’s hard to argue with success.”

  Ben Mosowitz joined the conversation. “How difficult is it to start a business here?”

  “Net very,” Jacob responded, “but it depends on what kind of business. My surveying business or Noam’s architectural firm require specific licensing. A computer business does not, except for registration and a general business license. Every company also needs to be registered, but the process is simple.”

  “I’m hoping to make and sell furniture.”

  Ze’ev nodded. “I don’t see a problem. My a
dvice would be to set up the manufacturing first. It may not be as easy as it seems since you’ll likely have to import most of the wood. I can help with that. After you start making furniture you will have no trouble selling it. The market is starved. Our population grew explosively and the existing manufacturers can’t cope. You could also import furniture. The problem is from where? Europe is mostly busy with the war and doesn’t have sources of high quality mass produced furniture anyway. The U.S. might be a source but transportation would be expensive.

  “Did you do your design your furniture in the U.S.?”

  Ben shook his head. “Most of the time I just copied popular designs.”

  “You can do that here too, but you might be more successful if you add original designs to your selection. My youngest son, Benjamin, is a men’s clothing designer and knows other designers. When the time comes he might help you find a good one.”

  ***

  Gad Yaari, Chief of General Staff, Zvi Kaplan, Chief of Military Intelligence, and the head of the Mossad entered Nitzan Liebler’s office.

  “Gentlemen,” the Minister of Defense said, “I need an update on the situation in Germany. I also want to hear what you think we need to do about it.”

  Zvi Kaplan started. “Events went almost as planned. The Generals arrested Hitler and announced a new regime, as we agreed with the Brits. The execution of the coup was somewhat inept. Three days after the announcement they’re still moving forces and haven’t taken control of important objectives.”

  “If you remember,” the head of the Mossad interjected, “I warned against exactly this kind of fiasco. They had to coordinate a military coup in a dictatorship where many of their co-conspirators were loyal to the Nazis. I recommended weakening the Nazis apparatus more before precipitating a coup.”

  Zvi Kaplan fidgeted in his seat but it was his boss, Gad Yaari, that responded. “It’s pointless to assign blame now. At the time the consensus was we couldn’t kill more Nazis without provoking Hitler into executing the generals he suspected. In any case, we never had fine control over the situation.”

  The Defense Minister nodded agreement. “I want to know what the situation is now, as detailed as you can make it without taking all day.”

  “It’s a mess,” the Head of the Mossad said. “The Army took control of most of the airfields, so the true believers of the Luftwaffe are neutralized. On the other hand, there is fighting in the streets of almost every major city in Germany. There are large numbers of Nazis and Nazi sympathizers in the Army, and it will take a while to clean those out.”

  The Chief of Military Intelligence agreed. “Just today the Committee announced that all military personnel supporting them should wear armbands with the old Weimar Republic tricolor flag on it.

  “There’s also trouble from the expected sources: Gestapo headquarters in almost every city are centers of resistance, as are Nazi party headquarters and SS bases. The generals are planning on dealing with those but they’re doing it slowly. We think,” he nodded at the head of the Mossad, “that this is due to the relative unreliability of their own troops.”

  “In other words are you saying that Germany is fighting a civil war?” Liebler asked.

  The Chief of the General Staff nodded. “That is partly correct. Our estimate is that the non-Nazi forces are much stronger and will eventually overcome the Nazis. The fighting should be mostly over within a couple of months. It will leave Germany weaker and may open the way for Stalin to get into Western Europe.”

  “Any recommendations as to how to avoid that?” the Defense Minister wanted to know.

  “I’m not sure we need to do anything extraordinary,” the head of the Mossad said. “We do need to insure that there are firm agreements with the Soviets about where future borders will be in Europe. I think they will keep their agreements. Stalin always did, as long as he perceived the other parties to any agreement as both strong and resolute.”

  The Chief of General Staff added, “There’s also the consideration that the German High Command is not entirely stupid and will do its best to keep the Eastern Front stable. They know that for now there’s nothing to fear from the West.”

  ***

  The Foreign Minister knew he didn’t have the expertise to decide on the issue in front of him and had called for a meeting of experts. There were several people at the conference table.

  “I need a clear analysis of what planes to start using to supply our embassies in Europe and Russia,” the Minister began. “We have been using the ship that picks up immigrants from the port of Sochi in the Soviet Union to haul supplies to the legation, but from Sochi it’s a long way by unreliable trains. We also need a secure delivery line with no interference from their intelligence, who open every shipment that goes by rail. We also need a secure and fast connection to our London embassy.”

  The man in an air force uniform was the first to respond. “I’m assuming that you want to use period aircraft?”

  “I’m not sure, but we don’t want to use modern jets. Something with a propeller would be good.”

  The Aircraft Industries representative said, “The most reliable propeller driven plane we have available is the C130 Hercules. It will get some attention. It’s a turboprop and in Russia they will be extremely interested.”

  “What other alternatives do we have?”

  “We have the Arava, but it can’t reach Moscow without refueling,” the IAI rep said.

  The air force officer smiled. “We still have a couple of DC-4s and DC-3s in a museum somewhere. Either one will get to Moscow but whichever you chose it will have to be seriously refurbished, especially the engines.”

  The historian had said nothing and now fidgeted in his seat. “The Soviets are actually building some licensed DC-3 derivatives as the Lisunov Li-2. It will not draw any attention there.”

  “Of course the price you pay for anonymity is a very slow and uncomfortable plane,” the IAI rep said.

  “How long will it take you to get the two planes ready to fly reliably?” the Foreign Minister wanted to know.

  “We’ll have to examine them to give you a time frame, but I don’t think it will take longer then several weeks.”

  ***

  Admiral King looked worried. “Colonel,” he hesitated, “Shaviv, are you telling me that the positions of all the submarines on this map are accurate as of two hour ago? How can that be?”

  Colonel Oren Shaviv, the Israeli military attaché to Washington, shrugged. “Admiral, they were accurate two hours ago and are getting less so as we speak. We have the means to track this sort of information quite easily. Locating six Japanese submarines in three locations along the West coast is not such a big deal. If you tell me which ones you wish to attack I can give you updated positions every forty minutes or so.”

  “It would be a breach of our security to tell a foreign power what we’re going to do. We very seldom share operational information even with the British navy.”

  “Feel free to keep it secret,” the Colonel said. “We will know which ones you sink when they disappear from our scans anyway.”

  “What the heck.” Admiral King’s expression was both sour and resigned. “We are allies and you probably know more about our operations than I do. I want to attack the three submarines on station outside the port of San Diego. So please keep updating their coordinates,” he looked at his watch, “starting two hours from now. They should be destroyed in three hours. If your information is accurate.

  “Do you have anything else for me today?”

  Colonel Shaviv took out a typed page from his briefcase. “As you know, the Japanese switched to a new cipher yesterday. This is a message we intercepted this morning local Philippines time. The new cipher is at the top of the page.” He handed the page and a photograph to King.

  The admiral read it. “What the …! They’re bringing more forces to Mindoro. Is McArthur asleep at the wheel? His air patrols should have seen them already.” King stopped to look at the photo
graph. “Very good, I really appreciate this. I will let McArthur know where the Japanese transports are, after our naval forces in the area take care of them. That way the arrogant son…cannot interfere.”

  “Admiral, maybe we can establish a more efficient way of doing this. By the time I come here on my daily visit some of the information is already stale. I’m also taking up an inordinate amount of your time.”

  King nodded. “I understand that you have, probably, better things to do than waste a couple of hours every day on an old curmudgeon, but I find our sessions interesting. My interest may not last very long, but as long as it does I hope you’ll accommodate me. Oh, and please tell General Marshall the same thing. I know he’s trying to pump you for information but he’ll figure out very soon what I figured out already.”

  “What’s that admiral?”

  “That you say only what you want to say and not one word more.”

  ***

  The Israeli DC-3 was coming in to land at the Bykovo airport in Moscow. The Soviet authorities had refused a landing permit at the much closer Frunze Central Aerodrome. They claimed that the aerodrome was not safe for such a big plane. It was an obvious lie but the new Israeli ambassador said nothing. He suspected that the real reason was a hope on the part of the Soviet security police that if the Israelis had to haul whatever arrived on the plane from Bykovo the police would have a better chance to look at it and, maybe, learn something.

  After the plane was on the ground and had taxied to the primitive terminal, it’s modified cargo door opened and two cars rolled out: a Sabra-A and a Sabra-B. Both were second generation: no more Fiat and Lancia bodywork. The Sabra-A was copied from a 21st century Lincoln Town car; The Sabra-B was a facsimile of a late model 21st century Subaru. The suspensions were still a work in progress and too soft for serious driving but perfect for the broken streets of Moscow. Both cars carried prominent Israel flags – no mistaking that these were diplomat’s vehicles. Diplomatic plates, issued a week earlier by the Soviet Commissariat for Foreign Affairs, were also affixed to both cars.