Pipe tobacco again and automobiles occupied the half-hour break, and then came more substantial material.
"Do you plan to run for Chancellor again?" Woollcott said, turning nigh threatening.
Manfred had prepared for this. "I never really ran to begin with," he said. "The government was falling apart, and there was no one else who could pull the country together. I'm not a politician and I don't want to be one; my task isn't so much governing the country as it is permitting the country to be governed, not so much being democratic as trying to protect democracy.
"Consider your President Roosevelt; he sees himself as trying to protect the American economy. I have to do this, too, and I like to think we are succeeding there as well.
"If I am needed by the German people and the German Reich, I will serve willingly. But, as I see it, I expect that after the next election I can go back to flying."
The threats continued. "It's been charged that you are in fact restoring Prussian autocracy. Putting the Hohenzollerns back in charge, restoring Prussian princes and privileges -- are these really the acts of a democratic leader?"
"Ask Herr Brüning. I think it's rather unfortunate that he's disavowing his own policies. All those proposals he is criticizing so are ones that he had proposed. I think it's tragic that he couldn't put them into effect himself, and more so that he is now disavowing them.
"You understand that it was a choice of Louis-Ferdinand or another disruptive election campaign. It has not been that long since 1932. That was a bad year, with two Reichstag elections and the Presidential election, with its runoff. I know it seems contradictory to cast a monarchial restoration as democratic, but this was a case where we had to preserve democracy by not giving its enemies an opening to exploit it.
"The state of affairs in Germany has been deplorable since the War ended. We have been using whatever means available to restore the national morale.
"Here in America I see people clinging desperately to the symbols of their nation. There may be poverty and unrest, radicals of all colors of clothing blocking the streets, but there is always the Flag. There are the veterans of your -- of the Civil War, of the War, to respect and praise on the anniversary of the War's end, or the day of commemoration, Memorial Day isn't it called?
"We have our own symbols, Woollcott, and we are trying to rebuild a badly battered nation."
"One symbol which you forgot to mention being their Hero," Woollcott said. "Nevertheless, American public opinion is still very divided about this return of Prussian militarism."
"Under Gustaf Noske, our civilian minister of the Reichswehr, our army, navy, and air force. He was one of the signers of the Republican constitution, as I should remind your listeners. A Social Democrat -- rather like your New Deal Democrats, and a dedicated enemy of Bolshevism and Nazism alike, a man dedicated to an army that looks like Germany. In fact, he has on occasion almost come to blows with many of the older types in our army, those 'Prussian militarists' people so deplore, over retaining certain features of the post-War revolutionary armies. Does the American Army have Soldier's Councils, meetings where enlisted men discuss politics and how their service is carried out, as ours does?"
"We had The Stars and Stripes," Woollcott said, almost huffily, "I should know, I wrote for it. A soldier's newspaper, entirely without officers."
Now that was an idea, Manfred thought, and he said, "But you concede my point. Giving the Landser, the common soldier, an avenue to express discontent and form opinion, is as you would say a safety-valve. The few Nazis or Bolsheviks who get into the army can be identified and isolated, and the rest of soldiers can gain an understanding of democracy.
"For my own point of view, I would rather not fly in an airplane that was being maintained by men who hated me. The Soldier's Councils could be disruptive of authority or they could reinforce it; we are learning to use them for the latter."
Woollcott calmed down while selling more pipe tobacco, and the final quarter hour began with the Olympics. "I understand Germany is going all-out to welcome the Olympics next year," he began.
"It's all connected. As part of our public works program, we are building a giant stadium near Berlin for the summer games. For the first time ever, we will be broadcasting them over not just radio but fernsehen -- what your writer and editor Mr. Hugo Gernsback calls 'television'. Over fifty countries will be represented, including I am pleased to say a large riding team from Germany.
"The International Olympic Committee has worked with the Reich Government to develop new ceremonial events designed to demonstrate the continuity of the Olympic tradition. The Olympic Stadium will have a torch lit with a fire kindled at Olympia itself."
"Will you fly it there?"
Manfred chuckled. "Not quite. Teams from the countries it crosses -- Greece, Yugoslavia, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Austria, and the Reich -- will carry it through the country. The people will see this symbol of international sport and become a part of it.
"I would like all those hearing this, all those who can, come to Germany and see how the Reich has become a part of the community of nations."
"I'll be sure to watch," Woollcott said, but he raised an eyebrow and seemed a trifle suspicious.
"You can see your friends the Marx brothers, too. Their new German comedy, 'Skandal in der Oper' will be released around then, from UFA, which will be broadcasting the Olympic Games on the Television."
That advertising should please Hugenberg, Manfred thought.
The comment left Woollcott nonplused. "Oper," he said slowly, "'A Night at the Opera'?"
"Yes, the German version of their film that will be released here this fall. Herr Herbert, their agent brother, explained to me that they were going to do the movie here in America and then take the script over to Germany, where they would translate it and use German supporting actors. You know the brothers speak German -- Arthur doesn't need to, of course -- and they will redo their roles in the German production. Herr Hugenberg, my Vice-Chancellor and the president of UFA, has been very excited about the movie. 'Good German belly-laugh comedy,' he said."
I'll omit the crack he made about Jews, Manfred thought.
Woollcott rustled his papers. "Well. I must then plan to go and see this performance."
"You will be very welcome."
Manfred was relieved that he had managed to survive the show. That night, as he sat in his room with a cold compress over his eyes -- the old injury still hurt him now and then -- he wondered about retiring to America. There had been relatives in America, including that, well, very unseemly Frieda von Richthofen Lawrence. Ilse would fly into a rage whenever somebody said the notorious English writer D. H. Lawrence had married "the Red Baron's sister" and he or Mother would have to calm her down. "Ilse, they're not talking about you, they're talking about cousin Frieda from the Rhineland." She was in New Mexico now, and there had been, he had been told, another cousin who had been a land developer in Colorado. They'd never got there in the barnstorming days. Perhaps it would be worth looking into, he could get to the Northern hunting grounds easily enough . .. .
Enough of that, they were leaving for the Reich in the morning.
"Doktor Eckener, here you have been telling me how wonderfully precise are the maneuvers this vessel can perform, and now, when I ask you for something in that line, you demur."
Pilots' courtesy had permitted the Herr Reichskanzler into the control gondola, even though his pilotage was of an entirely different order. The Graf Zeppelin hung above the night-schrouded New Jersey terrain now while the commander argued with his distinguished passenger.
"I didn't say it couldn't be done," Eckener said. "In fact, it would be quite easy to do. Rather, I wished to point out the danger of diverting from our course."
"Quatsch!" Manfred said. "Will the American fighters shoot us down? No one wants to emulate Herr Luke any more."
Eckener sighed, then drew himself up and saluted. "Zu befehl, Herr Reichskanzler."
Down below t
here was a knot of well-wishers. Not for the great silvery vehicle that hovered overhead in the light of the spotlights. Indeed, the sendoff from Lakehurst had been rather restrained. Herr Governor Hoffman was less cordial now than his colleague from Kentucky had been. On the other hand, Papen quite cheerfully reported that the Teutonia Society had been barraged with complaints from German-Americans in Cincinnati, angry that their chance to see the Red Air-Flyer had been taken from them. "Herr Hitler won't see a penny from them this time," he had concluded, with a satisfied air.
Now the zeppelin drifted over the other landing field in the night. "Have they made a connection?" Manfred said.
Another man in the gondola -- the communications officer -- handed Manfred a headset. "You know the rules, Herr Reichskanzler," he said. "Standard radio procedure."
Manfred settled the headphones in his ears, then took up the microphone and shifted languages. "Graf Zeppelin to ground, this is Richthofen, over."
There seemed to have been a bit of a surprise down there, when they had first called, but if nothing else the people down below were ready to reply. Or have the right person there to reply.
"Earhart to Graf Zeppelin. Is that really you, Manfred? Over."
"Who else would it be? Over."
"I should have known. Over."
"How was the trip from Mexico City? Over."
"Just fine. Over."
"Congratulations! Did George tell you about the offer? Over."
There was a brief silence from the other end. Then she said, "He did. Tell your friend that we'll be coming to this air show next year and see the Olympics. Over."
"You will enjoy it. That's a prediction, not an order. Out."
He handed back the radio gear and explained. "Frau Earhart just flew up here all the way from Mexico City. Another record, I understand. I suggested to the Kaiser that he award her a medal for her services to aviation. She'll be getting the Civil Service Cross of the Hohenzollern House Order. It will go so well with all those French and Belgian orders she has."
Doktor Eckener didn't seem surprised. "Didn't I hear that Herr Lindbergh will be receiving that order?"
"He will, yes. Peaceful aviation, civil service indeed. And won't you be piloting the new zeppelin to Berlin about then?"
The air seemed to lighten up a little as the Graf Zeppelin swung away from the New Jersey airport, to cross to New York and make a nighttime spectacle for the people of the great American city. Perhaps Gernsback himself would see this dream of his made real, if he were staying up to listen to the news. Then on across the Atlantic at a hundred twenty kilometers an hour, all the way to Berlin.
"What's that?" Bodenschatz said.
It was getting towards noon, and they were preparing to eat. Papen had departed to the smoking room to get his nicotine fix, Tresckow was lying down, having been run ragged by the American army men. They were in the lounge, collecting an audience of zeppelin crew by telling stories of the War when Bodenschatz looked up and saw a flash of motion outside.
The airplane flying by the Graf Zeppelin was a sleek two-engined bomber. "Now I know," Bodenschatz said. "The Americans showed it to me, their new bomber. More capacity, far more speed than our Gothas. They flew a squadron of them up to Alaska last year. They couldn't tell me enough about that, it was quite an accomplishment.
"Going this far out must be another sort of demonstration. Navigation, perhaps. Or air search."
Manfred nodded towards the airplane. "Imagine that, Herren, with a bigger fuselage, one that can carry passengers. In a few years there will be planes like that flying passengers all over the Reich, all over America. Not long after that there will be even bigger ones, flying people across the ocean. Where will our zeppelins be then?"
He resolved to meet with this new engineer from the Bavarian firm, who had had some intriguing ideas about aircraft, large and small. And wasn't Herr Tank of the Focke-Wulf company talking about a big airplane they were doing? Douglas needed some competition. If there were going to be airplanes flying passengers across the ocean, some of them would definitely have to be made in Germany.
"They call it 'B-10.' Udet will want some, I just bet," Bodenschatz said.
"We'll wait until we can get a German design."
"I am so glad you can keep yourself under control, Captain."
Behind them the great silvery airship moved slowly and carefully into the hangar, where it would be refurbished, refueled, and prepared for the resumption of passenger service. Bolko and Viktoria were still in the mid-Atlantic, but Neurath himself had brought Willy Coppens to the landing field. He had energetically shaken Manfred's hand, while the less approving Foreign Minister stood back, looking neutral.
"I have had to lay off the combat flying since this," Coppens said, and slapped a hand against his artificial leg. "Still up to your old tricks?"
"Some new ones. Will you dine with me tonight? Have you seen our new planes? What does your Ambassador say?"
"I think he wants me to pump you on the rearmament program."
Manfred looked across the open sky of the airship field. In the distance -- was that one of their planes? For a moment he saw himself greeting the captured Belgian Balloon Buster, then he brought himself back to a real present.
"I understand your concern. I think I can honestly advise your government to prepare to defend itself, particularly from the south.
"Neurath, could we set up a meeting with the Belgian foreign minister, Herr . . .Herr?"
"Heer, or Monsieur, van Zeeland," Neurath said confidentially. "Their government changed again back in March. And the King died last year, that made a mess. Herr Coppens, if I can meet with your Ambassador?"
They headed towards the waiting cars, Coppens walking more carefully. "This is all so irregular," he said, and laughed. "Actually, I think the Reichskanzler here might be more welcome. I could certainly get him a good reception with our Air Force!"
Manfred laughed heartily. An entire two weeks without any serious news of the Nazis or Bolsheviks. Not that it would last . . .
BOOK FOUR
OLYMPIA
CHAPTER 20
Grafenwöhr, Bavaria, Germany, Monday, June 15, 1936
"Monsieur le premier," the grossly tall French officer said, "in spite of the faithful adherence to the remaining Treaty terms by your government, our government is still concerned."
The fields of the proving ground stretched away around them. General Lutz's command tent was surrounded by a bustle of staff officers and visiting foreign dignitaries. It was Oberst Guderian who had drawn up the invitation list. "We must demonstrate the effectiveness of our new Panzerwaffe," he said. "How better than to do so before all the great experts of armored warfare. After all, Herr Reichskanzler, didn't you invite your fellow aces to see the birth of our new Luftstreitkräfte?"
They had him there. So, written invitations had gone out to a surprisingly large number of old enemies. The highest-ranking one was the Comrade Marshal of the Soviet Union Mikhail N. Tukhachewsky. As he was also their Deputy Defense Minister, Noske (with deep reservations) had to receive him. He consulted with the new Commander-in-Chief of the army, Generaloberst Freiherr von Fritsch, about selecting officers who had been in Russia to be at the reception, dinners, and the like. As a result Manfred did not have to go to any effort to receive him. He had seen all the Russian Bolsheviks he wanted to in 1918.
Guderian had been otherwise enthusiastic. "It will even work out!" he had said on that afternoon last month, at the meeting to discuss the maneuvers. "They will only see our Panzer I and Panzer II tanks, and we can keep the new models under cover! I want as much to impress the foreigners as to work out our tactics."
Noske and Fritsch seemed less enthusiastic. "Herr Oberst," Noske said, "are you so certain that this will be impressive in that fashion? What will these guests say if they see a failure?"
"The same thing as when the air attaches saw the Herr Reichskanzler head-down in the cockpit, his legs waving. 'Those Germans can't
do anything military right any more.'"
Did he have to remind them of that? Manfred thought.
"Which is unfortunate," Fritsch said. "We are, after all, a professional force."
"I see your point, Herr Oberst," Noske interjected. "This new Panzerwaffe, it does require more technically trained officers? I hope you will recall that when picking the men for it."
Noske did not need to rub in his point -- the bluest blood of the Junkers would be of no avail when dealing with a balky motor. He was becoming enamored, in a way, of this new method of war. It meant opening the officer corps to the working class.
So now, the landsers of the Panzerdivision z.b.V. was getting ready to exercise their vehicles. The names of the old cavalry regiments that had won glory on fields of battle from Fehrbellin to Mars-la-Tour were now painted on the sides of the little Mark II Panzers, and the collection of trucks from Daimler, Ford, and Opel that carried the Schutzenregimente of "dismounted" cavalry. And the Ulanenregiment "Kaiser Alexander III von Russland" Nr. 1, which now had armored cars, not to mention some old feldwebels who recalled a gawky Kadett named Manfred von Richthofen. Oberst Guderian in all his glory now commanded the 1. Panzerbrigade z.b.V, which would lead the hypothetical attack.
The air force would communicate with the tanks, Udet himself flying overhead and barking out commands. This was indeed a combined operation; with naval participation no less. Admiral von Schröder the commander had died, but some of his subordinates from the Marinekorps Flandern were willing to show these backwards landsmen how real fighters fought. They had given the English a shock at Nieuwpoort, attacking with coordinated air and ground forces; now, with tanks added, that should be a very conclusive means.
The roar of a motor engine drew Manfred back to the present. He looked up at the French colonel, who stared down his huge unshapely nose at the little boche who dared to think himself a statesman. For a moment he considered the virtues of horseback, or perhaps even taking to the air, in order to have a conversation. At least the man could be pressed into admitting he spoke English.
A Man and a Plane: An Alternate Germany Page 33