Darkness into Light Box Set

by Michael Dean

  would put costings through when he got back to Berlin. Ludendorff nodded absently, then spotted something, about a hundred yards ahead of the lead trench, sticking up in the mud. He went off to retrieve it, bringing it back like a gun dog with shot prey.

  ‘Know what this is?’ The general brandished it at Rathenau.

  Rathenau did know, but said he did not. The muddy object was a cylinder about four inches long with a wooden handle at the base.

  ‘It’s a potato masher,’ Ludendorff said, beaming at it fondly, ‘or to you, a stick grenade.’ Rathenau nodded. ‘And it explains why we are going to win this war. You see this? It’s a pull-ring attached to a cord. You take the screw cap out, that’s gone now on this one of course. Then the other end of the cord is attached to a friction ignition system. When the cord is pulled, the time fuse starts. Our infantryman has about six seconds to throw the grenade.’

  Rathenau was fascinated. ‘Who makes it?’

  Ludendorff grimaced, strangely. ‘I’ve no idea who damn-well makes it. The point

  is, this and other weapons like it and our superior tactics, especially with regard to artillery, and the physical superiority of our fighting troops are going to win us this war. Be … cause the British haven’t got anything like… This. Weapon. In. My. Hand. Know what they’ve got?’

  ‘No,’ said Rathenau, truthfully.

  ‘They’ve got Mills Bombs. Nowhere near as good. Egg-shaped. Hopeless. Can’t be thrown as far. Weigh too much. More likely to kill the man throwing it.’ Rathenau nodded again. ‘Now, multiply that superiority of that one weapon over theirs by the

  number of weapons. And multiply the superiority of our troops over theirs by the

  number of soldiers and you have proof with mathematical certainty that we will win this war.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Rathenau, knowing perfectly well that they would not.

  They drove on. The first of the famous Kovno forts had a view across the Niemen into the town of Kovno itself, now under German occupation. Weary from constant travel – the tour actually took twenty-four hours – Rathenau’s main memory of the second fort was the scars from the 42cm shells. However, it was on the ramparts of the second fort that Ludendorff first broached the subject of Belgium. Rathenau remembered that clearly enough, as he had good cause to.

  ‘Colonel Oehme tells me that you are worried that requisitioning raw materials in Belgium contravenes the Haig Convention,’ said Ludendorff, matter of factly. ‘You are quite correct. It does.’ Rathenau was flushing with anger that Oehme had discussed KRA business with Ludendorff, but Ludendorff, apparently noticing nothing, ploughed on.

  ‘The Haig Convention of 1899 to 1907 allows requisitioning only for the direct support of an occupying army. Not for production to further the war. I expect that would worry a civilian like you.’

  Rathenau made no attempt to hide his annoyance. ‘We will need Belgian raw materials and labour but.’

  ‘Yes, but. The eternal civilian but. I have asked Stinnes to set up a company to take

  over Belgian industry. It is to be called The German-Luxemburg Mining and Smelting Company.’

  Rathenau was livid. ‘General Ludendorff, the KRA cannot operate at all once its monopolistic freedom of action is breached. We cannot be one of a number of companies directing raw materials where they are needed for the war effort. That would defeat the whole point. Stinnes knows that perfectly well. He is making mischief.’

  ‘The army can help with the transport of raw materials from Belgium. We can also lay on troop trains to help transport Belgian civilians to Germany to work in factories. Now that our soldiers are at the front, in position, we don’t need so many trains. We can put them at your disposal. Or at Stinnes’ disposal if you have qualms.’

  ‘I …Of course we will accept military assistance. Of both…’

  ‘Of forced labourers?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Good. The policy can be implemented at full speed then. And at full force. We are

  going to need around 700,000 forced labourers. You will authorise…?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘You will confirm in writing?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Good. I shall tell Oehme that. And I shall make arrangements for the trains.’

  ‘Please do.’ Rathenau took a few steps and murmured, half to himself, ‘We shall have to take over the Belgian currency.’

  Ludendorff shrugged and turned away.

  Rathenau had plenty of time to think about this conversation on the way home, as the journey, appropriately enough, was by military train – an overloaded, uncomfortable freezing cold military train at that.

  On the journey back, Rathenau stared at the soldiers, not at their faces, as the artist in him would have done, not any more. He stared at their grey uniforms, the short boots of pale untanned leather, the huge military knapsacks and the Pickelhaub helmets with their grey cloth covers. He had to supply all that, at least the KRA had to, and that, to Rathenau, meant him.

  The train left Kovno at 1.40pm; he was back in Berlin at 6.20 am.

  Chapter Eleven

  In the middle of a war to the death between England and Germany, Rathenau’s work as head of the KRA was fulsomely praised in the London Times. The article was headed ‘A Businessman and War’. The subheading was ‘Dr Rathenau’s idea: Germany’s Plan to Wear Us Down.’

  The ‘mobilisation’ of various metals for the war effort was praised. But the article

  grew positively open-mouthed with wonder over the discovery and speedy production of artificial raw materials, ‘which are in many cases better than the original.’

  The head of the nearest equivalent in England to the KRA was David Lloyd George, who was head of the Munitions Office. Rathenau was to find out, some years later, that Lloyd George had read the Times article with mischievous glee at how much better his opposite number was than him. A typically British reaction – redolent of self-confidence.

  England re-organised its munitions procurement broadly in line with Rathenau’s ideas by forming Programme Committees, which, like Rathenau’s companies, were self-governing but under the ultimate control and direction of government officials.

  The Times’ enthusiasm for Rathenau’s work in charge of the KRA was not shared by his fellow German industrialists. Within months of the department’s creation, all the leading industrial firms, inspired by Hugo Stinnes, banded together to form the Central Association of German Industrialists.

  In working against the KRA – which was their only raison d’être - the Central Association, via Stinnes, always turned first to Helfferich for help. Who else? Former director of the Deutsche Bank, State Secretary of the Treasury, Helfferich, like Stinnes and the other industrialists, believed in high profits for German industry, using the specious excuse that high profits would help Germany compete after the war and keep the treasury supplied with tax money.

  The KRA, however, was driving down their profits by obtaining raw materials for

  the war effort as cheaply as possible; imposing price ceilings when it could - against

  bitter opposition.

  To some extent, the industrialists had a point. If the KRA fixed the price ceiling too low, it could drive companies out of business. Rathenau the monist, the man of straight lines, did occasionally push too hard too far.

  The Stinnes-led German industrialists appealed, at first privately, then in newspaper articles, for funds to finance opposition to ‘Rathenau’s state socialism’. Rathenau was characterised in far-right newspapers such as Vorwärts as ‘Germany’s Egyptian Joseph’ - a novel anti-Jewish twist.

  Naturally, Rathenau’s own company, AEG, could not and did not join the Central Association of German Industrialists, which was formed to oppose the KRA, an organisation largely headed by its own senior staff. This made AEG’s isolation from other companies even greater; an isolation exploited by Stinnes.

  Stinnes’ antipathy to AEG and the Rathenau family was a d
ecade old, and was only

  partly caused by anti-Jewish feeling. Ironically, the initial falling-out was very much

  with Emil and Walther had played the role of peacemaker:

  In December 1905, Stinnes visited Berlin to negotiate with Emil a carving up of the production and distribution of electrical power in the Ruhr – all along the lines of Walther’s bred-in-the-bone concept of conciliation and industrial co-operation.

  Emil was initially against any form of co-operation, but Walther and Stinnes, in alliance no less, fought for the deal. Walther even visited Stinnes in his home town of Mülheim, hiding his aristocratic disdain for the cultureless, barren conditions he found there. At least, Walther thought he had hidden his disdain. He had probably failed to, as was usually the case and Stinnes no doubt noticed and felt patronised.

  The proposed co-operation hit the rocks, pushed there by Emil’s implacable opposition to a deal. AEG established its own electricity plant in the Ruhr, in Stinnes’ back garden, so to speak. Emil insisted on appointing Walther as head of the plant’s supervisory board, just to aggravate Stinnes even further. Emil’s intransigence seemed a deliberate slap in the face to Walther’s conciliatory world-view.

  Walther adopted his usual panacea, his balm for every occasion, he socialised with his enemies to put all their differences to flight, or so he hoped. He invited Hugo and Cläre Stinnes to Berlin, treated them to a slap-up dinner at the Automobile Club and a bonhomious, slightly hectic monologue.

  The panacea failed to cure – not for the first or last time. A year later competition between the two firms sharpened. There was a dispute. Walther was away travelling on AEG business and he tactlessly left word that he had no time to deal with these Ruhr issues.

  Hugo and Cläre Stinnes were provincials. Walther, perhaps subconsciously, with his flair for rubbing the fur the wrong way and leaving no eye unpoked, made them feel so provincial they resorted to mock bows in his presence. They also called him ‘Sir Walther’ behind his back for the rest of his life.

  Cläre Stinnes gave the Stinnes dynasty’s verdict: ‘The Jews of Berlin finally unmasked themselves.’

  Accusations that Rathenau was sabotaging the war effort were started among the anti-Jewish right by Ludendorff, Stinnes and Helfferich - the Circle of Hate - but quickly spread through the centre and left-wing political parties. At a Budget Committee meeting of the Reichstag in mid-March 1915, Rathenau was publicly attacked for profiteering, by favouring AEG.

  Matters were coming to a head. The summons to Helfferich’s office at the Ministry of Finance was terse. Rathenau was ordered to ‘present himself’ at such and such a time and at such and such an office. Disobeying the order was not an option: His department’s credit line would be exhausted in weeks and only Helfferich could renew it.

  The summons also told Rathenau how many officials he may bring with him – two – which was arrogant, on Helfferich’s part. In the event, though, it hardly mattered as Wichard von Moellendorf and Colonel Oehme, Rathenau’s chosen two, did not appear for the meeting - Rathenau never did find out why.

  But at least, after losing sleep over the calumnies for months, matters were finally out in the open, on that early spring day in 1915. At least he could do something now.

  Karl Helfferich had a knowing gleam in his eye as Rathenau sat down. The two men had last met, cordially enough, as recently as two nights ago, at the Deutsche Gesellschaft, one of the many clubs they both patronised. Rathenau continued to socialise with those demanding his blood all his life – Stinnes and Helfferich, and to a lesser extent, Ludendorff.

  Helfferich pursed his lips, looking smug, then insisted on starting on time despite the absence of Rathenau’s two officials – an absence which apparently surprised him less than it did Rathenau.

  ‘Dr Rathenau, I have received a formal representation from the Central Association of German Industrialists that your work on behalf of the 300 Elders of Zion…’

  ‘Whaat!’

  ‘Please let me finish, Dr Rathenau. That your work on behalf of International Jewry, whatever you wish to call it precisely, is hampering, even subverting the German war effort.’

  ‘That is preposterous. You cannot have a shred of evidence to substantiate such a ridiculous charge.’

  ‘On the contrary, we have pages of it. I have prepared a summary. There is considerably more.’

  ‘I insist…’

  ‘Yes, yes. Calm down.’ He muttered. ‘You people…’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Try not to get too emotional, Dr Rathenau. There’s a good chap. Here is your copy of the charges…’

  ‘Charges!’

  ‘Did you not hear what I just said? Try and behave like a Christian gentleman, even though you aren’t one.’

  Walking out would of course play into Helfferich’s hands. He would simply cancel

  the department’s credit line, probably claiming that Rathenau had agreed to it. There was no stenographer present, but that would not stop Helfferich producing rigged ‘minutes’ after the event, quite a common tactic at this time.

  Rathenau picked up a closely-typed document over a hundred pages in length, with plentiful appendices. He flicked through it. There was nothing about Zion and its elders but plenty about various AEG contracts.

  ‘I need time to study this.’

  ‘Oh, come on Rathenau! You know the details of these transactions better than I do.

  You arranged them. There will be no delaying tactics from you, my boy! You can wriggle as much as you will, you slimy fish, but you won’t get off the hook.’

  Rathenau glared at him, then dropped his eyes to the document. Helfferich, adopting a droning tone which Rathenau supposed was meant to convey an objective approach, started reading as if from a charge-sheet before Rathenau had had time to more than glance at the papers in front of him.

  ‘The AEG factory in Henningsdorf geared up for aeroplane production even before the outbreak of hostilities. Stealing a march, which enabled it to obtain the lion’s share of the 220 aeroplanes ordered on 14 July, 1914. How do you account for this?’

  Rathenau was obliged to stop reading. ‘It was clear that war was coming by the time the production lines were changed. There is nothing sinister about that.’

  ‘The same complaint has been made about the AEG torpedo plant at Spandau.’

  ‘You are accusing my companies of being efficient. This efficiency has been placed at Germany’s disposal for the war effort.’

  Helfferich did not pursue it further. He was putting the weakest cases first, a tactic familiar to Rathenau. ‘With regard to the V-Class torpedo boats, boats 25 to 30, the

  contracts were awarded before the Christian companies had a chance to bid.’

  Rathenau made a conscious decision not to rise to the racial bait.

  ‘That is ridiculous!’

  ‘Oh is it! The Rheinisch-Westfälisch Elekrizitätswerk, part of the Stinnes group…’

  ‘Ah, Stinnes! I wondered when he would be making an appearance.’

  ‘Be quiet. As I was saying, part of the Stinnes group has also made a formal complaint that they had no chance to bid for the searchlights for the S-Class ships of the line, an area of ordnance where they have a world lead.’

  ‘They most certainly do not!’

  ‘Was there a bid from them?’

  ‘No. AEG was awarded the contract outright.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Helfferich dropped his head for a moment, scanning the papers on his desk. ‘Item: The contract for munitions for 7.7 cannon was awarded to AEG unfairly. Independent assessors have scrutinised all the bids. Their conclusion is unequivocal. The Phönix Company had the strongest bid. Stinnes Industrial Company were second with Krupp third. AEG had no previous experience in this area. Its performance contradicts your boasts. It was lamentable. Of the order for 150,000 cannon-grenades only 80,000 were delivered by AEG. And yet your Jewish company was the successful bidder. Explain, Rathenau.’

 
; ‘I would have to look at the bids in detail.’

  ‘Not good enough. Explain. Now.’

  ‘My father was convinced that we could…execute the contract well.’

  It was close to an admission. Helfferich beamed. ‘The AEG takeover of the Tillmann iron factory was not even known to competitors. The same story for the lucrative AEG contract for barbed wire for the eastern front, for which AEG was the sole bidder.’

  Ludendorff! Rathenau had, in his own mind, put Germany first. Ludendorff had put the fact that he was a Jew first. Helfferich was pouting, moving in for the kill.

  ‘The existing credit line arrangements cannot be renewed with you at the head of the KRA. Resign now and there will be no prosecution for treason.’ Rathenau snorted.

  No wonder there was no stenographer.

  ‘Be a Jewish Cincinnatus, Rathenau. Go back to your farm. Only stay there.’

  ‘Yes, I’m familiar with the reference,’ he said, largely to give himself a few seconds to think. He had no choice. He knew that, Helfferich knew that.

  ‘May I name a successor?’

  Helfferich was taken aback, physically recoiling behind his desk, as if Rathenau had threatened him. It was his first hesitation. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘You don’t want to consult Stinnes and Ludendorff first?’

  ‘Don’t be impertinent, Rathenau!’ Helfferich pointed a jabbing finger at Rathenau’s face. ‘Don’t you play the clever Jew-boy with me!’

  ‘I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’. I nominate Major Koeth. He’s…’

  ‘Yes, I know who he is.’ Helfferich hesitated. ‘Look, you’ve done some good work, Rathenau. Nobody’s denying that. Nobody wishes you were a Christian more than I do. But we can’t have an alien in a key position at a time of war. Surely you can see that?’

  Rathenau walked out without another word. Major Koeth, an experienced administrator, was appointed as his successor. Rathenau’s last day at work for the KRA was April 1st 1915.

  In the summer of the same year, Walther heard from the doctor who had amputated Emil’s foot, Israel-Asch, that Emil had died. Walther had been abroad, on AEG business. There had been no chance to say goodbye.