A Man and a Plane: An Alternate Germany

by Joseph T Major

  "If I do I will make sure to book all air force officers in steerage."

  Manfred laughed. "Our Bodenschatz would rather be my air force aide than my state secretary! Him and Tresckow!"

  "He can go back to being a banker. Well, looks like that's the airship port on the horizon."

  Papen was right, and the rough countryside of New Jersey, U.S.A. gave way to the concrete runways and landing grounds of Lakehurst, places black with the crowd waiting to see the sight. Bodenschatz went over to the other side of the lounge and turned on the radio, fiddling with the dials until he got a station: "Chancellor von Richthofen has demonstrated his commitment to modern technology by arriving in America flying in the dirigible Graf Zeppelin, Germany's technological triumph," the announcer blared.

  Papen winced, looking down at the mob waiting to see the great flier. "Ach, the humanity," he said.

  They knew to play "Deutschland über Alles" instead of "Heil Dir in Siegenkranz" (which, he thought he remembered, had yet another title and set of words here).and otherwise give their guest a friendly welcome. "You know, Bolko, you seem to get all the sea tours," he said.

  His brother had come up as soon as the ground crew had secured the Zeppelin and the passengers could disembark. As advance man he had that privilege, or responsibility.

  "Well, you can't say I didn't get a good crowd! And the Cunard cuisine . . . we had to run laps around the deck," Bolko shot back. "This way to see the guests of honor." They did walk towards the Honored Aviators (and the one stand-in, for his wife). When he got there, Manfred had a few words for them.

  "Sorry to drag you away from the airline, Eddie," he said to one, and "How is Amelia doing in Mexico?" to another.

  To which Rickenbacker said, "Notice the Eastern Airlines plane so casually parked on the other side of the photographers. Be sure and smile for the cameras. I flew her down from Idlewild, myself, just a short hop. Donald Douglas will be happy, too."

  And Putnam said, "She put off the Honolulu to Washington flight a month for you, back at New Year's, so she can't do it again this time. Once is enough. Damn that sabotage! She should have been here, would have been here by now."

  The next man in line had his own praise. "I wanted to be sure we found a mountain with a reddish tint, Baron," Byrd said, "Here's the picture of Mount Richthofen in Marie Byrd Land, fresh off the press, as it were. I discovered it last summer."

  "And here I thought you named it after my geologist cousins," Manfred said with a snort.

  "Real estate? Wouldn't it be nice if only we could build a resort there," Bolko said, visions of unregulated casinos dancing in his head.

  Finally he said to the last man, "We'll talk later, when we can't be bothered by them." And he jerked his head towards the pressmen.

  The much-burdened man looked resigned, and nodded slowly.

  The motorcade from the air base to the railroad station, and the train ride to Trenton took all the rest of the morning. While Manfred would be wined and dined by Governor Hoffman and every other prominent person in this state and the neighboring one, others would be doing other things.

  "What a waste!" Colonel Lindbergh said. The governor had offered them a small office in the state house for their meeting, and while preparations for the great dinner were going on, the relevant parties were meeting privately beforehand.

  "What a waste!" he repeated. "Why did you waste your time going to see him, Mr. Papen?"

  "Now, now, Slim, no need to jump to conclusions," Manfred said. "Papen? What else did Herr Hauptmann say?"

  "He said he knew you would get him out of there."

  Papen then looked at the two other men, Colonel Lindbergh and Governor Hoffman. Apparently, he had an idea what the Reichskanzler would think, but he did not know the other two.

  The governor spoke first. "Yes, yes, Chancellor Richthofen! Surely if you plead his case it will be obvious," he said.

  But Lindbergh was only a little slower off the mark. "You see, Manfred, he is still lying," he said. Then the two of them looked at each other.

  Papen got a very self-satisfied look and said, "You are both right. However, I do believe Colonel Lindbergh's point takes priority. We had prepared as reference for us a detailed file of Hauptmann's criminal record in the Reich -- housebreaking, receiving stolen goods, armed robbery, flight to avoid prosecution. Admiral von Levetzow, the Police President in Berlin, had me briefed on the matter by a law aide from his office and I was told that, 'Hauptmann had the worst possible reputation in his hometown and was known as a dangerous criminal.'

  "He was so deeply impressed with his own plight that I saw no point in trying to confront him with inconvenient realities. Herr Reichskanzler, Colonel Lindbergh, Governor Hoffman, I have carried out my part in this task, it is now up to you."

  Papen sat down then and lit another cigarette. Manfred looked around, shook his head in weariness, and began to pace back and forth, trying to assemble an answer to this dreadful conundrum. The governor sat behind the desk and Colonel Lindbergh stood by the door, all looking extremely worried.

  After one traverse of the room, deep in thought, worried, he looked up into their eyes and said, "Governor Hoffman; you have to understand. Slim and I are pilots. You saw it yourself this morning. What do Admiral Byrd and Eddie Rickenbacker have in common with me, with him? We are all part of the brotherhood of fliers. I want to see the man who killed Slim's son brought to justice as much as he does.

  "But I am also the le-- the Chancellor of Germany. Like it or not, Hauptmann is my responsibility; he was a fighter at the front as much as I, as much even as Papen here, who was packed off to Turkey after the stupid Foreign Office didn't want to hear him warn them about America. He, Hauptmann that is, has many supporters in Germany itself -- did you know that?

  "So I am commanded by law, society, and tradition to be even-handed."

  He stopped his pacing and looked into Lindbergh's pained eyes.

  "Slim, I know you have been living in Hell these past three years. I am a father too, and every night I fear that my enemies will harm my boys, or my niece and nephew I must be father to, or my mother, or my brother and sister and their families. For all I can do -- which can't be much -- I don't want to add to your misery."

  Then he turned his back and walked towards the Governor. "I have an idea what life has been like for you, your Excellency. But you worked to get your office, you were expecting it, you prepared for it before you took the oath of office. I was called in by my superior from the War, the Reichspräsident, and his aide -- " he nodded in Papen's direction, "and ordered to take mine. It was my duty, and I obeyed. I have been governing as best I can since then.

  "One of the things I have learned is the matter of justice. Any civilized community these days has problems with justice. In the old days it was simple; the police picked up a suspect and leaned on him until he confessed or was proven innocent. Here in America -- but never mind that.

  "I asked Papen here not to give his conclusions or to speculate, but we did discuss the matter on board the Graf Zeppelin. There was time on the trip; if it had been an airplane I would have been too busy flying it.

  "As he pointed out, Hauptmann has an extensive criminal record in Saxony. That doesn't prove anything, but it is suggestive.

  "This Isidor Fisch he mentions, the conveniently dead furrier who left all this money, died in Saxony. The Saxon authorities said he was a public charge, without money at all. Again, this doesn't prove anything but if he had that money, why would he not use it, either to spare his health or reward his heirs?

  "It seems that Hauptmann built this ladder, wrote the extortion notes, kept the money -- I have been told by our legal experts that it is possible to be guilty to a crime by being so involved in it that it could not have happened without one's participation. I had asked about a woman being sentenced to prison for rape; it seemed she had helped lure the victim in and even held her down."

  He sighed heavily. "And so it is. I can't say if Herr
Hauptmann actually broke into Slim's home and took away, killed his son. I can say that, from what we know, he was involved very intimately with it, and that the man he himself is accusing seems an improbable choice.

  "I can't speak to the methods or means of American justice. I can only say that I believe he would have been convicted in a German court."

  The Governor got up, said, "I knew you were against him all along," and stalked out.

  Manfred turned and looked into Lindbergh's eyes, and said from the bottom of his heart, "I'm sorry you had to go through this, Slim."

  Lindbergh shrugged. "As you said -- no more than what I've been going through since then. Thank you, Manfred, Minister von Papen. I am sorry you were put to the inconvenience."

  He straightened up. "I had better go tell Anne."

  "One thing, while we are, well away from the Press -- the next time you come to Germany, we would like you to meet with the Kaiser. He's a flyer, too, you know. And he wants to award you a medal, for your services to aviation."

  "I'll ask Anne. We just want to get away from this . . ." The bereaved flyer then lumbered through the door.

  "There were one or two things I didn't want to mention in front of the Americans," Papen said when they were alone.

  "Such as?"

  "There are some interesting problems in the Herr Governor Hoffman's administration, in its finances. He seems to be looking for a distraction and making a stir about this kidnaping would serve his purposes in that regard. And then . . .

  "Meanwhile, back in the Fatherland -- you are aware, of course, that the Hitler National Socialists and Röhm's German Worker's Party have both adopted the accused as a Martyr."

  "But Lindbergh is closer to Strasser -- oh!"

  Papen smiled, nigh smirked. "Yes, his fine friends won't be so fine now. If he does come to the Reich he may see for himself who is worth working with."

  "I am glad to be meeting with the defender of Germany against fascism," President Roosevelt said.

  In England, Baldwin had been glad to meet with the defender of Germany against Communism, the defender in question noted. It was all a matter of perspective.

  The train ride from Trenton on the day after their reception in the Governor's Mansion had not taken very long, and the hangdog farewell Governor Hoffman had given them soon faded from memory. They arrived in the American capital and were greeted by a properly respectful American crowd, waving little black-red-gold flags and cheering politely -- must have been children off from school. Yes, some were, and Manfred found himself greeting a delegation of schoolchildren on the White House lawn. It took him back to the days of the War, when wide-eyed lean-faced children would greet the Red Battle-Flyer, the land crying out for a Hero . . . at least the American children were better-fed.

  Then he went inside, to meet with the American President, to sit for photographs, to view the famed Oval Office, and to see the mechanics of a democratic leader's means of governing. The White House was a very impressive place, even if a little worn. (Hadn't the rebels burned it during their civil war, or was he thinking of something else?)

  But then they had to be shown meeting, for the edification of the Press. As the guest, he arrived in the room first and waited. Then the President was brought in. He had heard that Roosevelt was crippled, but he was surprised to see how quickly and carefully his attendants whisked away the wheelchair before any photographs were taken. The image they projected was that of the tall, vigorous American President towering over the German Chancellor sitting next to him on the couch, and such was the image that would be emblazoned across the next morning's newspapers. (As the President was brought in and helped to sit, Manfred had entertained unworthy thoughts of how the old Kaiser had always dressed and posed himself to play down his withered left arm.)

  "I am pleased to meet with the great American President," he himself said. "I have had many good experiences in America. It is a wonderful country. You can fly forever.

  "It was good to meet my old friends Byrd, Lindbergh, and Rickenbacker again, and George Putnam, not only my friend and the husband of my colleague and friend Amelia Earhart, but my publisher. I hope Dick will be going back to Little America soon. Eddie's airline and racetrack both seem to be doing fine and I hope they will stay that way. Amelia should be flying up from Mexico City any day now -- we men are going to have to look to our laurels, the way she is going. And Slim -- well, I am sorry he has had to go through so much.

  "I am impressed by the American flying industry. As I said, you can fly forever, and you just about have to if you want to get anywhere. This nation is the birthplace of flight, and I hope to meet its father, Mr. Orville Wright, during this trip. I had planned to come to the dedication of your memorial at Kitty Hawk on the anniversary of the First Flight back December before last, as I had been at the commemoration of its twenty-eighth anniversary, but I had another engagement at the time.

  "Germany has made many great contributions to America. Wherever I have gone here, I have found Germans. They have as much pride in their lineage as they do in their country. I am working to instill in the people of Germany the same devotion to our form of government as that devotion to yours that I see here -- to free elections, democratic process, political settlements -- the same devotion as to the rule of law which has for centuries been the hallmark of German government.

  "The relationship between Germany and America has been one of great mutual trust and support. Our King Frederick the Great recognized your nation even before its war of independence was over; he commended the virtue and ability of your General Washington. There is much good German stock in America." And he went on speechifying, thinking of how Papen had been saying how the Americans were longing to be kept out of Europe.

  The reporters took photographs, all the President's men made announcements, and then the Press took its departure and left them to their own duties. President Roosevelt then turned to look at Manfred, and the congenial Herr of Hyde Park vanished, to be replaced by the All-Highest Supreme Warlord of America. "Now, Baron von Richthofen, what do you want from us, and what can you do for us?"

  In his mind special trains were associated with the old Kaiser, who was always dashing off to somewhere in the Reich, when he wasn't yachting off the Norwegian coast, digging in Corfu, or otherwise trying to get into the newspapers. Manfred would have preferred to fly, but he had been overruled by his cabinet. There was, however, a little Waco airplane waiting at the faraway Faraway Farm . . .

  "Tonight we stay with Herr Riddle, and in the morning we will go to Louisville and the track," Papen said. "What is so great about this horse you are talking about?"

  Manfred smiled at the memory. "You'll see."

  He could use the rest. Roosevelt had pressed him hard on the credits issue and he had had to concede some points in settling war damage issues. Roosevelt could always duck behind his Congress on the tariff issue, and probably would, but he had got some concessions on chemical imports, and particularly foreign shareholdings. The blind trust for the shares in Douglas Aircraft for example, that he could now petition to dissolve.

  It had been thoughtful of the President and Mrs. Roosevelt to have a birthday party for him last night, and fortunately he had enough wind left to blow out the forty-three candles. It had been en famille; the Roosevelts and their children, and Bolko and Viktoria with him. The Roosevelt children didn't ride, though, which left him at loose ends. ("I thought every child wanted a pony,." he had said.)

  Tresckow was off to talk with the gentlemen of the American army, while Bodenschatz was just taking a vacation in New Jersey; they would be at Lakehurst when the Graf Zeppelin was ready to head back. Neurath was already sailing back with the news, and by next week he himself would be above the Atlantic himself, worrying about hydrogen again. Which, thank God, the new zeppelin would not have; after hearing him describe Frank Luke's glorious last fight, Roosevelt had turned to his aide and said, "Harry, let's give him the helium." Besides, Neurath would have to be pr
esent to accept M. le Chevalier/Heer Reyter Coppens's credentials as Belgian Military Attaché -- now there was someone who could have made a good case for helium! Maybe Belgium was coming to terms with their past. (In heretical moods, late at night, Manfred would concede to himself that reparations to Belgium might have some justification; but paying for every French politician's latest string of mistresses, never never never. Not that say Hugenberg would hear of even the former.)

  Outside, the fields of the Bluegrass rushed up in the dawn light as the train crossed the last of the Appalachian hills. Manfred had seen a couple of crags that only needed a castle to remind him of the Bavarian scenery: without Am-- Frau Putnam.

  ". . . That's the Admiral! That's a colt to have an eye on!" Conway the trainer said, pointing to the frisky little horse. "Best get of Big Red yet!"

  "'War Admiral'?" Manfred said dubiously. Of late "Admiral" had meant Raeder, coming in again to explain why more and bigger ships were a necessity, never mind the remaining clauses of the Dictated Treaty or the new agreement with the English.

  Around them the fields of Faraway Farm stretched away green in the spring light. Samuel Riddle was proud of his guest and partner, and would not tire him too much besides having a few distinguished guests from the area in the evening. There wasn't much else he liked around here, Manfred could tell. Then in the morning they would take another special train to the race.

  "The horse is part yours," Riddle said, as dour as an old Junker. "Your investment in Brushup did you well this time."

  "Investments? Bolko, is this a good investment?"

  Bolko tore his eyes away from the frisky little horse. "If they don't run you can ride them yourself, and if that doesn't work, you can still eat them." Then he yawned. "Viktoria needed a nap and I think it's a good idea myself. Must get ready for the big day tomorrow." And he left for his room, or his wife, or something like that.

  Riddle frowned even worse. "I don't know why you need to come see just now. There's no racing around here anyhow."