Now here was the man with the inside track. "Our training is proceeding marvelously well," he said. There would be four Gruppen of fighters next year, even if only one was fully prepared. A Transport Gruppe was also working up. In the next year he hoped to double the number of fighter groups and then begin forming a ground-attack unit. "You understand, due to the efforts made by the previous governments, we are not quite working from the ground floor, but the more technical arms take time and effort to build. So much of what we did during the War was hurried and we paid for that in lives," he said, concluding.
"Thank you, Herr Udet," Noske said. "In summation, the next two years will be a period of necessary risk. As long as we conciliate the French, so they do not feel the need to repeat the events of 1922, as long as we retain the good will of the English, so as to not worry about the sea, and as long as the Russians and the Italians devote their interests elsewhere, they will not present a hazard to the Reich. We leave that matter in the trusty hands of our foreign service."
Or other envoys going abroad, Manfred mentally added.
CHAPTER 17
Heston Airport, London, UK, Wednesday, October 24, 1934
"You are cleared for a landing on the main runway," the controller in the control tower told the official airplane.
On the tarmac, Prime Minister MacDonald, delegations from the Commons and Lords, several senior Royal Air Force officers, an honour guard of airmen, and some special civilians fretted and waited for the German Chancellor. Ordinarily a foreign head of government, a visiting prime minister, premier, chancellor, whatever kind of big wog, would arrive at Dover, be greeted by the Lord Mayor there, and then take the train to London. Not this one. One or two of the R.A.F. marshals, with perhaps memories of days in the sky chasing and being chased by the red airplane, were smiling in fond memory of events made endurable by the passage of time. As for some of the civilians, well . . .
The R.A.F. escort that had brought the German official flight in had radioed ahead, "You bloody well bet the lead plane's red!" They knew the Red Baron flitted around his country in a small transport plane, painted in his distinctive color, and so it seemed he was keeping the same theme for his foreign excursion.
The lead Junkers trimotor flared out for a landing and touched down without much of a bump. The pilot taxied the plane under the direction of the ground crew to the markers, and then cut the engines, while behind it the trimotors with the emergency crew and the rest of the entourage landed behind their leader.
A crew rolled up the steps to the leader's plane, and opened the door. The band struck up the anthem; the advance man had been most clear about it. "'Deutschland über Alles,' the National Anthem," he said. "'Heil Dir in Siegenkranz' is the Imperial Anthem, played for the Kaiser." And as he was the brother of the Chancellor, it was presumed he knew what he was talking about.
The door swung open. MacDonald stepped forward, smiling, as camera bulbs popped. The first man out stepped down, took the Prime Minister's hand, and said, "Thank you, Mr. MacDonald. The Herr Reich Chancellor will be with us in a moment." Papen smiled back at the discomfited British Prime Minister, then turned to join his colleagues, disembarking in his train; the Foreign Minister von Neurath; State Secretary Bodenschatz, and their assistants.
Finally, the Chancellor himself appeared in the doorway. He had changed out of his old leather flying jacket and wiped off his face. Stepping confidently down the stairs, he strode up to MacDonald and took his hand. Again, the cameramen took their pictures, free from embarrassment in recording the great moment.
"Welcome to the United Kingdom, Chancellor von Richthofen," MacDonald said, smiling.
"May I say, Mr. MacDonald, that your ground control is splendid, and I would like to commend the professionalism of your pilots, whose interception was on time and well-handled," Manfred said.
"You are very observant."
"Yes, it was just a bit different to the last time. They were very polite to me, even though I didn't say who I was over the radio."
The Prime Minister looked startled. "You flew yourself!?" he said, disconcerted.
"I can never fly with someone else piloting the airplane. I get nervous -- I know too much of what might go wrong."
Beside the Prime Minister, Lord Trenchard smiled at the acknowledgement of the professionalism he had built. Manfred spoke to him next. "My Lord, allow me to compliment you on the skill of your pilots."
Trenchard demurred, in spite of the praise. "Better tell Sir Edward here," he said, indicating the Chief of Air Staff. "Been his charge for the past year, you know. And Londonderry, the Secretary of State for Air." Lord Londonderry nodded his head in agreement.
For obvious reasons, the German party was decidedly civilian. For all that they would discuss military matters with the British, not only the commanders, but even the Chancellor's new military aide Herr Major von Tresckow, not to mention Noske, had been left behind. There were enough veterans of the campaign against the evil Hun left in the country.
Some of whom were most odd. "We're meeting in happier times, Baron von Richthofen," the one man standing in the second row, behind MacDonald and the other government types, said.
Manfred blinked, then he remembered the man. "Lieutenant Sparks! Is your shoulder still bothering you? Do you still like cigars?"
Sparks put out his hand and they shook hands, enthusiastically. "No. Yes. Thank you for the thought. A half-dozen, and it made up some for being a prisoner. I told everyone about it at home and said, 'Whatever you say about the rest of them Hu-- Germans, the Red Baron is a very proper gentleman, and it was an honour to meet him, even if he did shoot me down.'
"Now here I am with the Inland Revenue, never thought this would happen. I didn't believe it when the man from the Air Ministry called. 'We want to have you be in the welcoming party for the German Chancellor.' Then they sent a man around yesterday, and we spent the night in London."
"Yes, back when I heard the news about your getting the post I told the missus, 'That Mr Hitler doesn't have a chance now,'" another man in that group said. "I gave all the chaps at the mills a piece of my mind about that. 'Don't you worry none about Germany,' I said. 'Not with Baron von Richthofen running things, he'll sort them out right proper.'"
Manfred said to the man, "Lieutenant Bird, it's a pleasure to meet you again. And this tower of strength must be Lieutenant Adams, and Lieutenant Gilbert! Mr. MacDonald, Lord Londonderry, Lord Trenchard, Sir Edward, gentlemen -- fellow pilots -- it's a pleasure to meet you peacefully for a change. Let us hope that this reconciliation continues and grows stronger."
He was learning when to seize the moment; and presumably the British government had that idea in mind.
On the drive into London Papen looked quizzical. "A half-dozen cigars?" was all he said, though.
"Yes," Manfred said. "Herr Sparks -- he was a lieutenant then, in their Flying Corps -- had been wounded in the shoulder when I shot him down. I thought he could use a gift. Somewhere, I remember, there's a picture of me and Herr Bird talking. Reasonable enough fellow."
Papen leaned back and thought. Then he said, "If the men you shot down are so friendly now . . . . it looks, it will look, like a gesture of friendship. So the British government wants to indicate that. I'll have to keep that in mind."
Neurath said, "They seemed willing enough. It looks like our term of being shunned is near its end. And about time, too."
"What's on the schedule?"
"Nothing tonight," Neurath said. "Tomorrow and Friday we meet with MacDonald and his ministers. On Saturday you will be received by the King and Queen."
"They must be willing to talk, then," Papen said. "With the situation in France -- it's the old English tactic, ally with the second-biggest continental power agains the biggest one. We may be in line to be their front line of defense against the Reds."
"A self fulfilling prophesy," Manfred said. "They plan on our being stable, and their confidence in our stability will give the government a leve
r against the Nazis and Bolsheviks. And here we are."
"And Monday, after that other affair, you dine at the Guildhall with the Herr Oberbürgermeister of London," Neurath went on. "Tuesday is the Air Force inspection. And next Wednesday it's home again."
One matter did concern Manfred, and he most undiplomatically raised it. "We confess to mixed feelings about the unfortunate incident in France earlier this month," he said when it was mentioned. "The deaths of his Majesty the King of Yugoslavia and of M. Barthou the French Foreign Minister were tragic for their families and nations, and the Kaiser and Reich government properly sent their condolences.
"However, we in the Reich government were slightly put out by the last diplomatic note from M. Barthou, as communicated by M. François-Poncet, the Ambassador. It was a request, barely so, that his Imperial Majesty not receive or give aid or recognition to the French Pretender. Now my government has taken thought to that matter, in another connection. In view of the delicate situation in regard to relations with Austria, I have advised his Imperial Majesty against receiving any of the various pretenders and exiled monarchs; the Archduke Otto of Austria, the Grand Duke Kirill of Russia, King Alfonso of Spain, and, more to the point, the Duc de Guise.
"Confidentally, when I raised the matter with him, the Kaiser said about the French Pretender, 'If he had anything to do with that riot in Paris last February, I shouldn't see him on general principles. We can't go tolerating incompetence like that!"
MacDonald, Baldwin, and Simon retained a proper British reserve at this comment. Sir John said, "It seems such a trivial matter, but such trivialities have a way of becoming symbolic."
Suddenly Manfred remembered something King Rupprecht had said to him. "Unfortunately, there is one exception, I am afraid to say. Our Kaiser has to see one pretender; it would cause immense problems if he did not."
"Who?" everyone except Papen said.
"The Jacobite pretender, King Robert -- but we call him 'König Rupprecht, König von Bayern.' If the Kaiser refused to see the King of Bavaria, the head of state of our second-largest state, it would cause an internal incident in the Reich."
Baldwin started laughing. "Jacobite pretender! Haw! Haw! Haw! I didn't even know there still was one! King over the Water and all that! Haw! Haw! Haw!"
The man who ought to be portrayed as the puppet was MacDonald, Manfred thought. It was apparent that he did what Baldwin wished, but as the people's tribune, he wasn't linked to those tired old men of the Conservatives. That Friday night, as they conversed over dinner in their guest residence, Manfred found his advisors relieved that their amateur had done well.
Papen was gleeful. "Full approval of the army, even more than we are doing!" he said, cheerfully. "Our Udet will be wearing a real uniform soon, too!"
"Too bad for the Navy League," Manfred said, sardonically.
"Ah, but there we have the function of diplomacy. It takes time to build up a naval industry, and the British are jealous of their predominance in that field. 'Britannia rules the waves,'" Papen said, making the interjection in English. "That was what started all the trouble last time. So we put off a Naval expansion, which we can't afford for the moment, and in return get hailed as great advocates of peace."
"I believe it is more important that the reparations matter was settled," Neurath interjected.
"Yes, they want their agent in Europe, and for the moment, it serves our interests to be that," Papen said.
"'England has no allies, no enemies, only interests,'" Manfred said, in English, and went on, "Who else is there? France is coming apart, Italy is making trouble in Africa, and Poland . . ." he shrugged. "We'll settle that, peacefully if we can . . . I think we can leave Czechoslovakia alone."
"Three million Germans --" Neurath began.
"National Socialist voters," Papen said, cutting him off. "I have concluded that it would be better to draw Czechoslovakia into the German orbit in a less incorporative fashion. The Bohemian element of their population is more Germanized anyhow, and if they split from the Slovak element . . . there are many possibilities for a resolution of that situation, perhaps even without having to resort to force. Consider the position of the Sorbs in Brandenburg and Saxony.
"For now, we should concentrate our efforts on resolving our own internal situation; continuing our thus-far successful policies drawing off the patriotic elements in the National Socialists and disarming the Communists."
Saturday, after the royal audience, Manfred's mood went into a power dive. When he returned to their guest residence, he was handed a long and vituperative newspaper article on the topic of "The Resurgence of Hun Power". Herr Bottomley had, he understood, after spending the early twenties denouncing him and other Germans, finally tripped up in his own financial failings and gone to jail. But this was not some rabid foreigner-hating paper from his sort; it was one of their liberal, if not outright social democratic, publications from up north.
He skimmed the article, noting with rising concern how much the author seemed to know. God in Heaven, he had the names of their pilots! "German aviators Moelders and Galland of the illegal secret German Air Force seen at illegal secret training center . . ." And there was a quote from one of Noske's memoranda, the one approving the renaming of old regiments! "The Butcher of Berlin shows himself willing to do the bidding of his militarist Prussian master."
And what they had to say about him! "Richthofen, having won a reputation for aerial savagery during the World War, even going so far as to trick a fellow pilot into crashing so as to be able to claim his victories, carried on in like manner once the German General Staff put him into power last January. His ruthless crushing of the February Revolt in Berlin shows how far he is willing to go to retain the title of 'Bloody Red Baron'."
He handed the newspaper to Papen. "Someone has been getting into our records," he said, evenly, trying to control his temper.
"Münzenberg," Papen said. "I will discuss the matter with Herr Diels."
Which ne did, upon their return to the Reich. The pictures of Manfred stepping out of the Trimotor, still in his flying jacket, brandishing the paper with the text of the London Agreement made the front pages. The government was more popular in the usual circles, and unsurprisingly less so in the expected ones. The the SS had to go on a month's leave, what with donations drying up. Röhm ordered his men to take "National Socialist clawbacks" and troll for donations without being paid themselves. How much of those donations would get from the brownshirts was a different matter.
As for the other, Papen did indeed speak to Diels, and the Politischpolizei did indeed launch an investigation. It took until right before Christmas to get an answer.
". . . our sources within the KPD indicate that the leadership cadre -- Thälmann, Torgler, Münzenberg, and so on -- will be meeting with Stalin and the Politburo in the next week."
Diels had asked to speak to the Herr Reichskanzler on a matter of urgent importance. That he was traveling to Silesia during the holiday week indicated that he thought it important. But then he had said, "We need someplace that is secure."
His version of security was not quite the version others would have had; with children running underfoot, the staff coming in to ask what to do about the dinner settings, preparations for the foreign guests (the Rickenbackers and the Putnams) who would be coming for New Year's, and the constant daily business of the Richthofen industries, the house was pretty busy. There was one section that remained closed.
Therefore, the chief of the Politischpolizei explained Communist affairs beneath great swatches of English airplane fabric, under the eyes of pilots of both sides, most of them dead, before the collection of one hundred and two victory cups. A cheerful, elated Lothar von Richthofen smiled down on his burdened brother; Moritz the dog pranced and sat up even as his sometime master paced nervously. The contrast between the open, knightly warfare of the air, and the dismal covert warfare of the secret world had never been greater. (But now Lothar slept forever by his father, and e
ven Moritz occupied a grave in the garden out back.)
"Do we know what about?" Manfred said. "Are they going to offer this 'Popular Front' to the Social Democrats, as they are doing in France?"
"No idea," Diels said, shaking his head. "Our source only says it's a meeting of as much significance.
"Not that there's anything to worry about! Even if the two factions of Reds got together, they'd lose a bunch of members. And even if they didn't they would still be about seventy members short of a majority in the Reichstag. Who would they get? Herr von Papen?" And he smiled, nigh smirked.
"Herr Hitler."
"The Nazis and Bolsheviks coming to an agreement!? That's ridiculous --"
Manfred only stared at the security chief.
"-- well, we can look into that."
That was enough.
"That's enough, children! Come to dinner now!"
Three of the Manfreds -- his nephews Manfred von Reibnitz and Wolf-Manfred, and his own Young Manfred -- were too old to take part in the rowdiness, and Carmen, at the elderly and dignified age of fourteen, was too serious and grave. She sat, ladylike, to one side, with a sweet smile on her face.
But the younger children were running and howling and screaming, and who could play the British or the Americans in the constant game of air war? The young Rickenbackers, when they arrived later that week.
"Come to dinner now," Mother said, adding her call to her oldest son's. "Your parents are already at table."
The long dining room was warm and cheery. Holly and candles made masses of color on the dark oak. The children filed in, calming down as they did, and took their seats at the foot of the table, before their bright china and empty glasses, from Lothar's and Doris's Carmen to Ilse's and Karl-Alexander's Nicol. (Bolko's and Viktoria's Karl-Manfred was upstairs with his nurse, but would enjoy his first Christmas tomorrow.) Then the adults sat down; Bolko and Viktoria, Ilse, Doris, and finally Manfred and Mother. So many were absent for ever; Father, Lothar, Karl-Alexander . . . "Let us pray and give thanks to the Lord God for the blessings that have come to us in the previous year," Mother said, devoutly.
A Man and a Plane: An Alternate Germany Page 28