While they schemed and planned, Monsignor Kaas said Mass, and the others slept, read, or played skat or snooker, Manfred sat at a desk and worked out a cabinet. It was not a particularly rewarding exercise. The man who could have helped him most with it was the man he least wanted to have do so. The party leaders would not want a Papen cabinet, but he had to keep on some of Papen's men, just as Schleicher had. It was a choice between the veterans of the Baron's Cabinet, who knew their jobs but had no contact with the public, or the party activists, who were more interested in scoring points off the other parties than in governing. The choice was often hard to make, but he had to have a functioning government. There were too many of Papen's Cabinet of Barons, that un-representative body of non-party members who had tried to run the country last year, on his final list. What else could he do?
As for Schleicher, he would just have to go beg. General von Hammerstein no longer trusted him, Hindenburg was disappointed in him, and he had worked hard at gaining the image of an intriguer. Ironic how that worked out.
He spent all afternoon scribbling and weighing one name against another. Who was qualified for a post? Who would the parties accept at this post or that? Who was tainted by contact with the Nazis, or even the Bolsheviks? For now, as he had said to Hugenberg last night, the Bolsheviks despised the Social Democrats. Noske had reported some talk -- he called it "loose talk" -- about a Grand Red Coalition between the Social Democrats and the Bolsheviks, but he also said, "Stalin won't hear of it! I have my sources, I know. And many of us won't hear of it either, we know what the Bolsheviks did, and what they are still doing."
For fifteen years he had striven to keep out of the politics of his country; now, by virtue of his reputation and his lack of a reputation, his reputation for being the hero of the country, his lack of reputation as a political type, he was now saddled with that choice. So he read lists of suggestions and tried to disappoint everyone about equally.
Outside, a bell rang the hour. He counted the strokes, realized in horror that it was almost too late, and dashed off with the list to the dining room.
Hugenberg buttonholed him as soon as he got in. "Herr Reichskanzler, I must meet with my editors!" he said, excited. "There must be a policy statement on all the front pages tomorrow, a front-page editorial calling for public support for the new government!"
Manfred sighed, "It'll have to be tomorrow, after the announcement. The editorial will be Tuesday. We don't want to give them notice."
The delay would give sufficient time for Udet to sober up after the Press Ball of last night. Surely Hugenberg would be flattered by having the great air ace as an escort -- or keeper. Another call to make. Hugenberg was not just UFA, not just owner of the cinematic megalopoly, but a publisher: fifty-seven newspapers, all across the Reich, from the Lokalanzeiger here in Berlin to little provincial newssheets. At least Hugenberg was showing enthusiasm for the task.
Now if they could only get the Ullsteins on their side. They had been at the Press Ball, Udet said, with about half the notables of Germany. Neurath, for example, who would have to spend the evening telling him what had gone on.
As for press lords, there was also had a Red equivalent, that Herr Münzenberg. Now that concentration of the press just might cause them problems. Whatever would Welt am Abend say?
Papen drifted in, all smiles. "They don't know a thing," he proclaimed, confidently. "Röhm and Dr. Goebbels are already preparing for a triumphal march tomorrow, down the Wilhelmstrasse past here, with Hitler reviewing the loyal masses from the Reichskanzlei."
Noske had arrived with General Hammerstein; they both looked disturbed at this piece of news. "How many of them are veterans of the Ehrhardt Brigade?" Noske said, cuttingly.
"I never asked, but if you really want to know --"
"I don't. Not really."
Manfred cut off this discussion by tapping on his glass with a spoon. "Herren," he said. "Herren. I have been working on the most important matter to hand, and will have a Cabinet to present to the Herr Reichspräsident after lunch. I only have one copy of this, so please try not to get any gravy on it." A wave of laughter rolled down the table.
The list he handed round said:
Chancellor Manfred, Freiherr von Richthofen (no party)
Vice Chancellor Otto Braun (SPD)
Alfred Hugenberg (DNVP)
Foreign Affairs Konstantin, Freiherr von Neurath (no party)
Home Affairs Paul Moldenhauer (DVP)
Finance Johann Ludwig, Graf Schwerin von Krosigk (no party)
Economic Affairs Hjalmar Horace Greely Schacht (no party)
Labor Rudolf Wissell (SPD)
Justice Kurt Joël (no party)
Reichswehr Gustav Noske (SPD)
Post Office Paul, Freiherr Eltz von Rübenach (no party)
Transport Theodor von Guérard (Z)
Food Hermann Dietrich (DSP)
Eastern Settlements Josef Wirth (Z)
Interstate Relations Fritz Schäffer (BVP)
Education Magnus, Freiherr von Braun (DNVP)
Without Portfolio Franz von Papen (no party)
As the list went round he said: "I will be relying on the party leaders to assist me. The Herr Monsignor has declined higher secular office. Herr Braun will oversee internal matters: the ministers of Home Affairs, Justice, and Interstate Relations will report to him. Herr Oberst Duesterberg, I expect your men to exercise a soldierly bearing before Herr Moldenhauer, to whom you will report as a Chief of the Police Auxiliaries.
"I have spoken with Dr. Schacht and he will take the post of Minister for Economic Affairs. He, Herr Wissell, and the Herr Graf Schwerin von Krosigk will report to Herr Hugenberg, who will oversee economic affairs."
Hugenberg beamed. This was the economic dictatorship he had longed for. What was best kept from him was that Schacht, Wissell, and Schwerin von Krosigk had been told they could appeal to the Reichskanzler over the Vice-Chancellor's head, if need be. The economic wizard who had conjured stability into being in 1923 would now be the wizard of the economy. (Manfred diverted his thoughts away from what had happened just before Schacht had put in the new Mark.)
Manfred continued, "I myself will look to international matters; the armed services, foreign relations, and the like. Herr von Papen, I expect you to keep me posted on the complications there."
"What was wrong with Herr Gürtner?" Papen said. "He's been doing a good job at the Justice Ministry so far."
"We don't think so," Schäffer said. Gürtner had been in charge in Bavaria before Papen had called him up to Berlin. In either place, his "good job" had seemingly consisted of ignoring Nazi murders and other crimes. Most notoriously of late, there was the case of the five men who had beaten a Bolshevik to death in Potempa and in spite of everything been spared the guillotine. Herr Hitler had movingly testified to their character in a public message after their richly deserved death sentences had been commuted to "Life, or until Hitler gets power", a speech which said more than was intended. Manfred had not wanted such a compromised man as Gürtner in charge of the judiciary, and the search had been tedious. Brüning's former Justice Minister, the old Beamter who had been running things in reality and finally got to have to the title as well as the responsibility, had wearily agreed to take up the thankless post again.
There would still be a break with the past. He could not, would not have Brüning himself; for all that the man had done, he was as compromised as was Schleicher. Not for the first time Manfred swore internally at their chronic secretiveness. Had Schleicher proclaimed his work projects and economic plans openly, publicly, the Social Democrats would have rallied to him and his government would have been safe. Herr Hitler would be futilely swearing in the beer-halls and -- he would be off flying. Had Brüning been forthcoming about his foreign relations triumphs, Papen would be a jockey again.
What's done is done, he thought.
"I'm afraid you'll all have to be my guests tonight. In the morning we will go see the Herr Reichspräs
ident and those of us who will be ministers can be sworn in," he said. Such was the irony; Hindenburg would be less angered at his beloved military being entrusted to such a notorious November Traitor than he would be at a Social Democratic vice-chancellor. But it was the particular November Traitor that mattered; Noske had signed the Weimar Constitution, but he had also been Hindenburg's own candidate for dictator of chaotic post-War Germany. The old war horse had found his place.
Nightfall had brought bad omens. Papen came back about midnight, after Udet had staggered in from the party and then staggered off to a bed of his own. He sat down, exhausted, in the room where Manfred was working, trying to set up a defense plan and sighed. "Ach, what work! Did you know that Herr Hitler was planning to call out the police? Yes, I know he has no power, but he has friends . . . and the storm troopers, too. I trust Herr General von Hammerstein and Herr Noske have their plans in order. If there will be blood in the streets . . ." his voice trailed off, wearily.
"What other plans are they making?"
Papen looked up. "If we had gone with the original arrangement . . . but it's all in cloud-cuckoo-land now. Your old friend Göring --"
"He's no friend of mine."
" -- wants to be Prussian minister of the interior. How absurd! You didn't seem to be particularly impressed by his management ability, Herr Reichskanzler."
Manfred realized that it was past midnight. "He wasn't very good. It's late; let's sleep on it," he said, getting up.
Before they could go see the Reichspräsident, Herr Meissner the State Secretary had some bad news. He entered while the staff was clearing away breakfast, and the politicians had gathered into knots to discuss what they would do in a few hours. Soon enough, the members would be gathered up in various rooms of the Reichstag building and given the word. Meissner spoke as stiffly as if he had been a new leutnant reporting to the kommodore. "Herr Reichskanzler, General von Blomberg is here. What are your orders?"
"Blomberg, Blomberg," Manfred said, trying to remember why that name was so important.
Papen said something under his breath. Then at the stares from everyone else he said, sheepishly, "He was promised the Reichswehr Ministry. Couldn't tell him no, not and not tip everyone off."
Manfred sighed. "I suppose I will have to break it to him. Come along, Noske. Everyone else, wait here."
Neither General Hammerstein, who had come down to get the final orders for the day, nor Papen seemed to think of himself as "everyone else". (Udet was there too, but then he was essential for his own purpose.) Thus the man who would be Reichswehr Minister, waiting in the Reichspräsident's reception room, was confronted by four. "Herr von Richthofen!" Blomberg said joyfully when they entered. "Come to witness my swearing-in? I see where you have joined the government." Then he recognized Noske and jumped. "What the hell are you doing here?" he said.
Papen had told Manfred that Blomberg was said to be very favorable to the Nazis, which was probably why he was their pick. Noske looked at Blomberg, then smiled and said, "I suppose I must go through channels. Herr General?"
Hammerstein drew himself up to attention and said "Jawohl."
"General von Blomberg is not at his post at the disarmament conference."
"Zu Befehl, Herr Minister. Herr General, you will return to your duty station at once."
Blomberg blinked, then he stammered, "But I am here . . . 'Herr Minister'?"
Manfred intervened. "Herren, I believe matters are a bit confused. Herr General, there have been some changes of plan. The Herr Reichspräsident has done the honor of appointing me Reichskanzler, and Herr Noske -- present -- as my Reichswehr Minister. You should have spoken with him or with Herr Minister von Papen -- present -- or with the Commander-in-Chief Herr General von Hammerstein-Equord -- present -- before you came here. As it is, you will have to consult with my cabinet. Excuse me for overriding your order, Herr General von Hammerstein, but it is important that the general speak to the right persons."
Hammerstein got the point. He clicked his heels, said, "Zu Befehl, Herr Reichskanzler. Herr Minister, if I may escort the Herr General? I will find someone to aid him and it may take a few moments. Then, if you please, we will return to the Bendlerstrasse and continue developing our plans."
Noske said, "Very well, Herr General." He waited until the two generals had left before saying, "Ach, the plans we are making. Seeckt was a bastard, he deserted in the crisis, but he left a good army. I almost hate to spoil it by expansion." He laughed ironically. "It's that, or stand at the border and wave the appropriate flag at the invader . . . French, Italian, Bolshevik, whatever."
"Why stand at the border?" Manfred said. "We can wave the appropriate flag at the brown shirts, or the red ones, in the comfort of our own homes."
"There you are!" Bolko said, entering. "I have the Old Gentleman settled, and the rest of the ministers will be coming in a few minutes, ready to be sworn in. You've had to make a lot of deals, a lot of promises, to get all these fellows under one roof. It's going to be a hard task to keep them there, keep all of them."
"Bolko, haven't I always kept my promises?"
"Then where's my chocolate bar?"
Noske and Papen stared at the younger Richthofen. "Chocolate bar?" Papen said slowly.
Manfred laughed. "One time during the War, I promised to come see him at Cadet School when I flew home on leave, but I flew straight home. He wrote a letter upbraiding me for breaking my promise, he said if I had a grain of affection for the old cadet corps and for him, I would land there and if I didn't it would be a mean trick. Period! Don't deny it, Bolko, that's what you said! So on the way back I flew over Wahlstatt and dropped chocolate bars for the boys."
"It did wonders for my popularity," Bolko said.
Noske sighed. "If only the electorate were so amenable."
"There you are!" Hugenberg bellowed. He had entered while they were distracted talking about chocolate. "Herr Reichskanzler, your ministers are ready to be sworn in! Shall we present ourselves to the Herr Reichspräsident and receive our portfolios?"
Serious now, Bolko said, "He is ready to receive us. Please come this way, Herren Ministers . . ."
CHAPTER 7
Reichstag, Berlin, Brandenburg, Germany, Monday, January 30, 1933
The clock ticked, the clock ticked, and in far too few minutes the bomb would go off. Manfred hoped he would survive the blast. He was sitting in the Reading Room on the first floor of the Reichstag, the manuscript of his speech in a portfolio under his arm, and fretted. Everything they did increased the prospect of the Nazis figuring out what was going on. They had to move troops to defend the Wilhelmstrasse and the government block, but it might be obvious that they were not a guard of honor for Herr Hitler. The party leaders had had to be kept under wraps, but that might show that they were going to hang together. Papen had to keep the Nazis lulled, but they might offer him a bigger bribe. Someone might want to hear from "Herr Reichswehr Minister" von Blomberg, who was in a room in the Reichspräsidentenpalais sobbing, "But I was promised, I was promised . . ." No chocolate bar for him. They had to take risks, but it seemed often a tossup between acting and not acting.
Udet had come in yesterday afternoon and gossiped late into the night about what he had heard at the Press Ball; like Bolko had heard at the station, half the people thought Hitler was coming in, the other half thought Papen was coming back. Now, after as little sleep as Manfred had effectively eked out, he was escorting the party leaders to the Reichstag. He had said, "So we're going to have an Air Force now," full of good will and cheer. First Bolko, then Bodenschatz, now Udet. He himself thought it was a good idea and hoped the French would be as agreeable when he waved in their faces the concessions they had made to Brüning. For now Udet would be flying as escort for a bomber-load of party leaders.
Bolko was sitting up with the Herr Reichspräsident. His morning message had been almost reassuring: "So far this morning, he hasn't confused me with you."
The chamber was filling up.
Manfred remembered that grim moment when Papen had finally acted, waving his order of dissolution in Göring's face, hoping to get a new Reichstag that would support his Cabinet of Barons. Hermann had insolently ignored the then Reichskanzler and let the legislators vote to overthrow the government. They had had a new election anyway, which had produced a Reichstag that couldn't form any government. Now he had to work with those factional, frantic, furious legislators, and rule by decree as Papen and Schleicher had. He hoped that having the parties behind him would at least make the decrees palatable.
"They're almost ready, Herr Reichskanzler." And there Papen was. He wasn't a member of the Reichstag either, so for lack of anything else better to do he was wandering around, like something of a lost soul.
Manfred tried to act calm. "Are the party leaders here?"
"Here and with their delegations. I trust they can keep order long enough for an adjournment before a motion of confidence goes through. Herr Udet is watching the crowd."
"Hermann looks like he's going to call them to order," Udet said, reporting in. Was everyone being summoned when his name was spoken? Better not mention Herr Hitler then. Udet went on to say, "Herr Rittmeister, I believe we had better get ready. Herr Minister, you too."
There was no one in the hall. Presumably all the players were on the stage, except for the lead. Udet had ordered a parliamentary usher to wait at the door, saying, "Herr von Richthofen will be delivering a message from the Herr Reichspräsident." and giving him a note to deliver.
The man saluted -- saluting the Red Battle-Flier? -- and went in when he saw them. Manfred stepped to the door and listened.
Göring had gaveled the assembly to order; now he took the message and read it. He smiled, evidently pleased at what seemed to be extremely good news, and then said, "Herren Members, a special messenger from the Herr Reichspräsident, our own hero of the War, our Red Battle-Flier Herr Manfred, Freiherr von Richthofen! He says, 'I beg leave of the Herr Reichstagspräsident to address the Reichstag on a matter of urgent national importance, with a message from our Herr Reichspräsident.'"
A Man and a Plane: An Alternate Germany Page 13