The Command

by Christopher Nicole

  The twelve seats he had held in the Reichstag in 1928 — these did not include himself as he was still an Austrian citizen — had grown to a hundred and seven in 1930. Two years later he secured more than eleven million votes when contesting the presidency against Hindenburg. Thus he had clearly become a politician to be taken seriously, but with Hindenburg in power for another seven years, and his known dislike for the ‘Austrian corporal’, his sudden surrender to Hitler’s demands for the chancellorship took everyone by surprise.

  Equally surprising was an invitation which came the following week for Murdoch to visit Germany. It was signed by Reger, but was actually from the new Chancellor, who looked forward to renewing their acquaintance, in these ‘changed circumstances’.

  ‘He’s being backed by the army, of course,’ Churchill said. ‘They see in him their best hope of making Germany again a world power. Well, they are probably right, if we are stupid enough to sit back and let them. They also suppose that he will be nothing more than a puppet in their hands. Would you agree with that estimation?’

  Murdoch considered. ‘Reger certainly thinks he can be used, I would say. The point is, should I go?’

  ‘I think you should, if the War Office will give you permission. It’s always worthwhile listening to the other chap’s point of view.’

  *

  The War Office thought it might be a good idea for Murdoch to visit Germany, especially after, at the end of February, a fire which was said to have been set by the Communists burned down the Reichstag. There seemed some possibility of civil war between the Nazis and their rivals, and the Government was interested in a first-hand appraisal of the situation. He was, however, required to travel strictly as a private individual, but to his delight they agreed that he might take an ADC, and that the ADC could be one of his sons. He took Ian, recently promoted to first-lieutenant. Lee went as well, of course, looking forward to renewing her acquaintanceship with the Regers after nearly ten years.

  ‘Do we tell Ian that Paul is his half-brother?’ she asked Murdoch.

  ‘No. Because we don’t know that he is,’ he insisted.

  ‘Oh, you are a wretched man,’ she grumbled.

  They went immediately after Easter, because they wanted to be back for Harry’s final speech day, which would be in June; he was due at Sandhurst in September. They also had to make the necessary arrangements for Helen’s twenty-first birthday, which would be in the summer, and for which Lee was planning a huge ball to make up for what she felt she had missed with Ian and Fergus — Helen was currently at Girton.

  The three of them repeated the same route as Murdoch and Lee had taken in 1924, from the Hook of Holland to Berlin. But they had barely crossed the border when they became aware of considerable differences between now and then. They were surrounded by evidence of the bite of the depression, but they were also aware of a kind of throb, echoing through the nation. It was evident in the crisp salute and the heel-clicks of the border guards; everyone seemed to have suddenly quickened their pace.

  ‘Do I get to meet Mr Hitler on this trip?’ Lee asked. ‘I should like to.’

  ‘Then you shall. Why, do you count him a good thing?’

  ‘He certainly seems to be doing wonders for Germany.’

  ‘Yes,’ Murdoch said thoughtfully.

  They were met in Berlin by Paul junior as well as his father. Paul was now wearing the uniform of a captain, and was graver and more intense than ever. Reger was also in uniform, that of a general.

  ‘You see,’ he said with a smile. ‘I have caught you up, Murdoch.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ Murdoch said, deciding not to ask him what he was general of: the German army was still officially limited to a hundred thousand men.

  Margriet hardly seemed to have changed, was as boldly beautiful as ever. Perhaps her eyes were more watchful, her manner more thoughtful, but she was as gracious a hostess as in 1924.

  The change lay in her family. Three of the girls were now married. One of her sons, Klaus, was a storm trooper, as Reger told them proudly, one of the brown-shirted sup-porters of the Fuehrer, as Hitler was now widely called. The other, Ernst, was a member of the Fuehrer’s own personal bodyguard, the Schutzstaffel, and wore a black shirt.

  ‘You see,’ Reger smiled. ‘It is all happening, as I told you it would.’

  ‘And is it all going to continue to happen, as the Fuehrer said it would?’ Murdoch asked.

  ‘Of course.’ Reger continued to smile.

  The only child remaining at home was Annaliese. At seventeen she was startlingly lovely, for while she had her mother’s pale complexion and flowing hair, her face was rounder and her features not quite as regular — thus she avoided the solemnity of expression which had always marked Margriet. Her character was also as ebullient as he remembered from that wink nine years before.

  ‘I think Ian is quite smitten,’ Lee remarked that night.

  ‘Well, he’d better not be,’ Murdoch said. ‘I don’t think it would be a good idea for any British officer, much less a son of mine, to get entangled with a German.’

  ‘You almost sound as if you think we are going to have another war with them.’

  ‘We can hardly have that, as they have nothing to fight with. But I do think we are bound to have a confrontation with them in the not too distant future, put up our hand and say, you’ve gone just about far enough.’

  ‘What would happen then?’

  ‘I would say, as he has risen to power by telling the people how great he is going to make them, that that would be the end of Mr Hitler. And his supporters. Which wouldn’t make Reger very happy.’

  ‘Um,’ she said. ‘What a shame. I think Annaliese is an absolute charmer.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Murdoch said. ‘It would be virtually incest.’ ‘Oh, come now. They’re not related at all.’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ Murdoch said.

  *

  There were the usual gallops across the country, and dinner parties, and a visit to the opera. On all these occasions Annaliese was included, to round up the numbers. At the opera Murdoch was presented to Hitler, and Lee was also introduced. The Fuehrer had changed somewhat from 1924. He had put on weight, gained in confidence, looked like a gentleman in his white tie, and smiled a good deal more easily.

  ‘He would like a private conversation with you,’ Reger interpreted. ‘I will arrange it, if you do not mind.’

  ‘I was under the impression that is actually what I’m here for,’ Murdoch agreed.

  ‘General Goering would also like to see you.’

  ‘Goering?’ Murdoch raised his eyebrows. He knew that Hermann Goering was virtually Hitler’s right-hand man in the Government, and that he was chief minister of Prussia, but he also knew that he was an airman. Indeed, he was a very famous airman, a holder of the Pour le Merité medal for his exploits in the Great War; he had succeeded Manfred von Richtofen as commander of the famous ‘circus’. ‘What can he want with an army man?’

  ‘I am sure he will tell you, Murdoch,’ Reger said.

  *

  Murdoch felt the growing influence of the Nazis more in Berlin than anywhere he had yet been. And he could not help but feel, too, that it was a malign influence. Following the destruction of the Reichstag building and the consequent threat of a communist coup, or so it was claimed by the Government, Hitler had pushed through the reassembled parliament — which now met in the opera house — a series of laws giving him and his party virtually dictatorial powers until the emergency ended. This was itself sinister as, being open ended, it left the decision as to when the emergency was at an end with Hitler himself.

  More disturbing, however, was the use being made of the laws by the Nazi rank and file, and it was no unusual thing to see gangs of youths wearing military-style kepis and armbands with the swastika insignia engaged in beating up those suspected of being Jews or Communists, or even ransacking houses belonging to their opponents.

  ‘I’m amazed those people put up wi
th it,’ Murdoch told Reger.

  ‘A lot of them do not. The Jews are emigrating in droves.’ He grinned. ‘Fortunately, as Germany is a bankrupt nation and forced to apply severe exchange-control restrictions, they have to leave most of their worldly possessions behind.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Oh, they are confiscated for the good of the state.’

  ‘Good God! Anyway, what I meant was, why don’t they go to the police?’

  ‘Because it would do them no good. The police are all Nazis.’

  Murdoch stared at him. ‘What you are really saying is that the rule of law has completely broken down in Germany.’

  ‘Quite the contrary, my dear fellow. The law is more strictly enforced in Germany than anywhere else in the world.’

  ‘But it is Nazi law, and it is only enforced for the good of the Nazis. And you approve of this?’

  ‘Yes, Murdoch, I do. It is a necessary transitional stage in our crawl back to greatness. No nation ever became great under democracy and total equality. Britain rose under an oligarchy of rich country gentlemen, who knew what needed to be done, and did it, regardless of the squeals from a few minorities who felt they were being trampled on. Almost everyone agrees that Britain is in decline. Why is that? It is because you now have full democracy, that is why. Here in Germany we tried full democracy, for a dozen years. And the results were disastrous. Now we must use the stick. In a classroom of unruly boys it is the only way to restore discipline, and purpose — and there must be no restrictions on the use of corporal punishment by the master. But for those who behave, and contribute to the common good, why, no rewards will be too high. You wait and see, Murdoch. In a few years, when we have got rid of or disciplined all our malcontents, Germany will be the happiest, most prosperous nation on earth.’

  ‘Presuming your party retains power at the next election,’ Murdoch suggested.

  Reger smiled. ‘Oh indeed. Whenever the next election may be.’

  *

  ‘It really is quite terrifying,’ Murdoch confided to Lee. ‘It is like a town being taken over by a totally corrupt council. Only this isn’t a town; it’s a nation of sixty-odd million people.’

  ‘So what are we going to do about it? It seems to be the government they want.’

  ‘I doubt that. As for what we are going to do, we are going to watch and listen for a few more days, then we are going to go home and report.’

  *

  ‘I have read Mr Caspar’s book,’ Goering said. ‘It is fascinating. One longed to have been with you in those mountains, Sir Murdoch, fighting against those savages for the honour of your women.’

  There wasn’t much of a reply to be made to that, and in any event Murdoch was still taking in the baroque splendour with which he was surrounded. They had all been invited down to the castle Goering had appropriated as his own. The building alone was awe-inspiring, the interior more so, for the German police chief had furnished it with apparently everything he fancied from amongst the paintings and other works of art confiscated from emigrating Jews. A good deal of the work was of a distinctly erotic nature, but Goering was not embarrassed as he escorted Lee and Margriet and Annaliese through the various galleries.

  ‘I am a widower,’ he chuckled. ‘I am not a fortunate man like your husband and General von Reger, Lady Mackinder. I must live on my memories.’

  From the number of attractive young women who seemed to have jobs in the castle, Murdoch decided that Goering’s memories did not play as large a part in life as he claimed. But he was here for a more important purpose than to look at nudes, and now he and Reger were closeted in Goering’s private study.

  ‘What I find most interesting,’ Goering went on, ‘is the way you were rescued, by the gallant Manly-Smith. Mr Caspar merely states that Manly-Smith and his little band were dropped from aeroplanes. Did these planes land, or were parachutes used?’

  ‘Oh, they used parachutes. There was no place for the planes to land.’

  ‘But how many men could each plane carry?’

  ‘Only two, apart from the pilot. That was why the force was so small.’

  ‘Ah. As an airman, you will understand, Sir Murdoch, I am interested in these things. I have used a parachute myself, of course, and what I find difficult to understand is how this intrepid band were all dropped within a relatively small area. Normally, when one leaps from an aircraft, one has very little idea of where one is going to come down. It is a matter of the winds.’

  ‘There was almost no wind that night,’ Murdoch said. ‘But still, from several thousand feet...’

  ‘The planes flew at no more than a thousand feet.’

  ‘Good heavens. Is that possible? Were none of your men dashed to pieces on the earth? The free fall before the parachute opened would have been very nearly a thousand feet, surely.’

  ‘Not more than six or seven hundred,’ Murdoch told him.

  ‘But then...three hundred feet? Was there time?’

  ‘Apparently. Once the parachute opened and checked their descent, it didn’t seem to matter all that much how close to the ground they were. Oh, they suffered various bumps and bruises, but they all survived.’ He smiled. ‘It’s not something I would have cared to do myself, but I’m damn glad those men were prepared to.’

  ‘Oh, indeed. I find the whole episode incredible,’ Goering remarked. ‘But also, incredibly interesting. Shall we join the ladies?’

  *

  ‘What do you think of the progress we are making?’ Reger asked, acting as Hitler’s interpreter.

  ‘I think you are doing remarkable things, your excellency,’ Murdoch said. ‘I am sure the world is looking forward to seeing the new Germany play an important part on the international stage.’

  Hitler looked pleased. ‘Indeed we shall. It is our intention. It is also our birthright. But more important, it is our responsibility, to ourselves and to Europe. You will not deny, General Mackinder, that the greatest threat to peace at this time is Stalin’s Russia.’

  ‘I would have thought Stalin had too many internal problems to be capable of foreign adventures, your excellency.’

  ‘He is capable of anything,’ Hitler said. ‘The Russians are Mongols. It is only six hundred years since Genghis Khan watered his horses in the Danube. This is not so long.’

  Murdoch decided against attempting to correct the Fuehrer’s somewhat muddled history.

  ‘Thus it is the business of Germany to be strong,’ Hitler went on. ‘So that the next Mongol invasion may be met and thrown back. Or better yet, prevented from ever developing. I have said this for ten years. I have said this to you.’

  ‘I remember, your excellency.’

  ‘But we are prevented from being strong, by that millstone which has been hung around our neck, the Versailles Treaty. We cannot permit this to continue.’

  His voice was growing more strident, and Reger’s translation was matching it.

  ‘Presumably,’ Murdoch suggested, ‘the time will come when certain aspects of the treaty can be renegotiated.’

  ‘Time? I have no time, General. You must tell your Government this. The world has no time. The time must be now.’

  ‘Now would be rather a bad time,’ Murdoch said.

  Hitler frowned at him, and Reger began to look worried. But Murdoch had something on his mind, and he was determined to say it. ‘You are getting rather a bad press at the moment, you see,’ he explained. ‘This harassing of the Jews, which almost amounts to a persecution, is upsetting a good many people. If you wish a sympathetic hearing from the French and British governments, you would be making a very good move by restraining your storm troopers, by giving back the Jews their time-honoured place in German society.’

  Hitler stared at him, and Murdoch became aware of throbbing veins in the usually calm face. Then the Fuehrer suddenly exploded, screaming at the top of his voice. ‘The Jews! Do not mention the Jews to me. They are the scum of the earth, pests, rodents. I do not deal with the Jews, I crush them u
nder my heel as I walk by.’

  He paused for breath while Reger translated.

  Murdoch gazed at Hitler, uncertain whether the display of anger had been genuine or calculated. ‘Then, your excellency, I am afraid public opinion in Great Britain and France may make it very difficult, if not impossible, for our governments to undertake any renegotiation of the Versailles agreements.’

  ‘Public opinion,’ Hitler sneered. ‘What do I care for public opinion? What does Germany care for public opinion? There is only one opinion which matters in Germany. Listen to it, General Mackinder.’

  He flung out his hand to point at the window, and as if a switch had been turned Murdoch heard the tramp of marching feet, the roar of a thousand voices singing the Horst Wessel song.

  ‘You tell your Government,’ Hitler said, speaking now in a low and calm voice, ‘that it is my most earnest wish to be Britain’s friend. More, I would be her closest ally. I would sign, tomorrow, a treaty of perpetual friendship and mutual support with Britain. All I would ask is the return of our colonies. But I have a duty to my people. They have called me from obscurity to lead them to greatness. I shall not fail them, no matter what it may entail. You tell your Government that, General Mackinder.’

  *

  ‘I imagine you’ll be glad to get home,’ Murdoch remarked as he and Ian finished the packing.

  ‘Well, of course,’ Ian agreed. ‘But I have enjoyed myself.’ He had not been present at any of Murdoch’s private conversations with the Nazi leaders.

  ‘With the fair Annaliese,’ Murdoch agreed. ‘Where did you go last night?’