A Man and a Plane: An Alternate Germany

by Joseph T Major

  "Fantasy," Gernsback said with a snort.

  Woollcott seemed rather silent throughout all this. Snobbery, Manfred thought; he associated with clowns (who were just now sitting in the Richthofen box with Bolko and Viktoria and their other nephews, and Mother) but writers of fiction for cheap magazines were beneath the Olympian purview of the Town Crier.

  "The Herr Reichskanzler and his guests! Next!" Meissner called out, and Manfred said, "That's our cue."

  The procession went off all right, with the German Sport Association president Diem's cute little daughter Gudrun offering Louis-Ferdinand a bouquet along the way. The teams marched in and then they played a recorded message from the Baron de Coubertin, the founder of the modern Olympics, too weak himself to travel here, and the translation boomed out over the loudspeakers: "The important thing at the Olympic Games is not to win, but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not to conquer, but to fight well."

  Then the Kaiser opened the games. Now there would come the torch lighting. "There he comes!" Carmen said, and all looked to see the handsome young torch lighter Herr Schilgen racing into the stadium, down one grand staircase, across the fields past the massed athletes, up the other stairs. He reached their apex and plunged the burning torch into the greater one. There was a flash, and the Olympic fire soared to the sky, throwing light on the torchbearer standing there bearing his own flame aloft, the other athletes, the stands, the spectators, the low clouds above and the new zeppelin Hindenburg that floated between. (No doubt with several cameramen aboard recording the scene for Riefenstahl's new movie.)

  There were only two more ceremonies to go. First, the Greek flagbearer, who had won the gold medal at the first Olympics of the new era, and bore an olive branch from Olympia, was presented to the Kaiser. Louis-Ferdinand smiled as the flag-bearer -- by strange coincidence, another Louis, Spiridon Louis -- handed him the branch and shook the Imperial hand.

  Then there was the oath. Herr Louis rejoined the fifty-one other flagbearers. (Fortunately it did not matter about the one delegation that had withdrawn.) They formed up around the rostrum and the representative athlete, from the host country, the Reich's own Herr Rudolf Ismayr, Gold Medal in the Weightlifting in 1932, stepped forward. He raised his hand in the Olympic salute, took a corner of the flag in his hand, and with voice echoing in the great bowl of the Olympic Stadium, said:

  "We swear that we will take part in the Olympic Games in loyal competition, respecting the regulations which govern them and desirous of participating in the true spirit of sportsmanship for the honor of our country and the glory of sport."

  "Uncle, you're crying," Carmen said.

  A soothing voice came in reply. "He was repeating the oath, dear," Earhart said.

  His good feelings didn't even last out the weekend, and Monday brought a different obligation. "What's the news from Spain?" Manfred said to no one in particular and everyone.

  Papen lifted a paper. "The Nationalists are advancing on Badajoz," he read. "The Italian 'Blackshirt Volunteer Air Transport Group' is flying in more men from Morocco to reinforce General Franco's army. General Mola is securing the north of Spain for the Nationalists."

  Braun said, "The Nazis are recruiting for this Freikorpsspanien."

  "Which one?" Papen said. "Hitler's SS-Freiwilligenverband 'Götz von Berlichingen' or Röhm's SA-Freikorps 'Horst Wessel' ? Or Thälmann's Bolshevik 'International Brigade "Karl Leibknecht"'?"

  The principal topic at the Cabinet meeting that morning was not the Olympic Games, but Spain. The Spanish team had pulled out of the Olympic Games when this General Sanjurjo had tried to stage a coup two weeks ago last Saturday. "Tried" because he hadn't taken over the government, just part of the country.

  "You said that the French premier, M. Blum, announced yesterday a position of neutrality in this war?" Braun said. "How can he!? Can his government let the Republican government, a lawful government of the people, be helpless before a rowdy rebel rabble supported by Mussolini and Hitler! How can he!?"

  "Because he wanted to be premier tomorrow, too?" Papen said, sarcastically.

  "In light of the decision by the Communist International to recruit men for service in Spain, it is necessary that the government make a statement on the matter," Neurath said, nigh pompously.

  "Statement!? Statement!? Blood and iron will say enough to the Reds here and the Reds there!" Hugenberg bellowed. "The enemies of God and man walk the earth in Spain!"

  Guéraud, Wirth, and the Center Party junior ministers all looked at Papen, who looked pressed. He said, "I understand that certain factions in the areas still controlled by the Republican government in Spain have taken it upon themselves to assault clergy and church properties. This does not speak well for their control of their own government, much less their territory.

  "At the same time, the Nationalist authorities are winning the support of people not exactly friendly to the Reich. It is my opinion that we should encourage the Republican government to curb the crimes of its supporters, the Nationalist government to act without the aid of foreign mercenaries, and both sides to resolve their internal problems, well, internally. It will aid the Reich little to get involved on either side."

  Manfred looked down the cabinet table. "All right. All those who want to go to war with Russia and have to fight our Bolsheviks here at home get over against the right wall. All those who want to go to war with Italy and have to fight all our different brands of Nazis get over against the left wall."

  A grim silence fell over the cabinet room. There was a scraping as Hugenberg pushed back his chair as if to get up, but he remained seated after all.

  "Very well. It is my opinion that the government should express disapproval of the atrocities in Spain -- the massacres, the lootings, and the like -- and of the introduction of foreign support. The Reich shall remain true to the spirit of the Olympics, which as some of you may have noticed is going on right now only a few kilometers away from here, and be neutral in word and deed.

  "However, if any private individual wishes to risk his life in someone else's war, I for one would certainly not stand in his way."

  "Question!" Braun said, and in a few minutes, after some staring at Hugenberg and Neurath, the resolution was approved unanimously. Maybe week after next they could even have the Reichstag meet and try to ratify the resolution.

  "Thank you, Herren," Manfred said. "Herr Reichswehr Minister, would you be so kind as to remain behind a few minutes? I have a small matter to discuss with you."

  Noske got up and took the chair that Braun had vacated, next to him, while the other ministers filed out.

  "All right, Papen, come sit down."

  As Papen came back to the table he said, unashamed, "I wondered when you were going to ask."

  Manfred said, "I knew you didn't need to be asked. Noske, this is going to be the first real war in Europe since the end of the War. I want you to find observers. We want to send observers to both sides, all three services. Yes, even the Navy."

  "Both sides? Of course but that will take some doing. Most of the men will want to be on the rebel side," Noske replied.

  "Oh I'm sure you can find a few of your people who are veterans, some good Reichsbanner men. And Papen, surely some of those volunteers for the Nazi and Bolshevik mercenaries will be, shall we say, mercenary themselves?"

  "If I can't find any I'll . . . .'find' some," Papen said. "An interesting solution, that."

  "Yes," Noske said, "If we're lucky the Nazis and Bolsheviks will all go off to Spain and get killed. Perhaps we'll have luck."

  "Perhaps we'll have luck," Manfred said from his seat in the Imperial Box. "But I don't think so. Look at that Jesse Owens run!"

  "OH-VENS! OH-VENS! OH-VENS!" the crowd chanted as the American runner sprinted to the lead. And he won, running the hundred meters in record-tying time. Borchmeyer, the German contestant, finished well out of the running.

  As the notes of "Deutschland über Alles" filled the stadium to
honor the German winner of the hammer-throw, Herr Hein, the Kaiser said to Manfred, "Where are your American friends? I see Herr Woollcott, the Town Crier of America, but where are the others?"

  "The Lindberghs and the Putnams are watching the air show over at Tempelhof. Gernsback is up there in the Hindenburg, writing a piece. And Randolph Churchill -- he's making sure Carmen doesn't trip and hurt herself."

  Behind them the Town Crier gave one of his goblin smiles, and soon enough one of Woollcott's little notes on the so un-Hunnish Kaiser and his noble Chancellor would appear in some American magazine or other. "Your Majesty, I hope you will see the Marx Brothers do their performance at Ambassador Dodd's party tomorrow night," he said.

  Louis-Ferdinand turned to look at him. "I'm sorry I can't. State visits and politics and all that. However the Graf von Sigmaringen, whom you may recognize -- in a personal way, of course -- has assured me that he will enjoy attending," he said with a smile.

  "Now let's stand for your national anthem," Manfred said. The band launched into "The Star-Spangled Banner" as Owens mounted the dais. They watched as the girl held the olive wreath over Owens's head. Then he bowed to his host, the German Emperor, who nodded in reply.

  "Sunday is free," the Kaiser said. "I will have to inform Herr Meissner." Then he turned to look at Manfred. "Do you really think that I will allow myself to be photographed shaking hands with a Negro?" he said, ironically.

  "I do, but some people might think otherwise," Manfred said.

  "Tell me, Mr. Woollcott, do you think your President Roosevelt will allow himself to be photographed shaking hands with a Negro?"

  Woollcott sniffed, and Louis-Ferdinand replied, "In any case, it looks like the games are over for the day, and nobody can leave until I leave, so shall we go?"

  In their car (for the carriages were for the formal opening), Woollcott fumed. "What does he think he's doing, sending this bastard cousin or whatever to Ambassador Dodd's reception?" he said, irascibly.

  "Graf von Sigmaringen, von Sigmaringen," Manfred said, "I'll have to remember that one. Woollcott, do you remember what the term 'incognito' means? I've called myself 'Schickfuss' and 'Foot', 'Schmidt' and 'Praetorius', and for me it's only a question of not getting mobbed to death by hero-worshipers, not a matter of receptions and state functions and the like. 'Graf von Sigmaringen' is one of the Kaiser's very lesser titles, just like 'Schickfuss' is my mother's maiden name and the Richthofen family was originally named 'Schmidt' and then 'Praetorius'. I assure you, the Kaiser wants to see the Marx Brothers as much as I do, and he will."

  Woollcott remained silent all the rest of the way to the Reichslanzlerpalais.

  In the living quarters, they found two Amelia Earharts sitting on a couch, still in flying gear. It took a moment's inspection to realize that while one was the real thing, the other was Fraulein Carmen Freiin von Richthofen, her face also still bearing the marks of flier's goggles and airplane's oil.

  "Did you have a good day, Carmen? Was your brother there?" Manfred said.

  Earhart -- the real one -- raised her head. "She's a pretty good pilot. Does it run in your family? Your son was there and her brother, and yes they were buzzing all over the place."

  "You ride, don't you? That's what does it. You learn balance and that skill transfers to flying. You learn to take care of your mount and that method transfers too."

  "She followed me and she said she was going to tell me if I did anything wrong but she didn't, so I guess I must be doing something right," Carmen said.

  "Where is everyone else?"

  "Here!" And Randolph appeared, holding several glasses. "Oh, sorry, I didn't fix one for you. No more flying today, so here's a highball for the lovely Miss Earhart and a Shirley Temple for the very lovely Baroness von Richthofen," he said, handing out drinks as he spoke and then downing his in one gulp.

  "Thanks, but no thanks," Earhart said. Randolph took back the glass and drank from it as she went on with a sigh, "He's right, you know. I have to wash up myself. George is using the bathtub, though. I only got this far, too tired. What a day! Not only did the Richthofen family turn up, but General Udet did, with half a dozen hot young pilots and they ran everyone ragged. And there was a Frenchman, someone named Galland."

  "There are a lot of Huguenots here in Germany. The Great Elector invited them. I know Adolf and I agree he's a good pilot but he's all German and a meter wide."

  "And I, ignored by everyone, will go buckety-buckety to my room and write my day's report," a miffed Woollcott announced, followed by his fitting deeds to words.

  "Where's Slim and Anne?" Manfred asked. They should have been at the flight exhibition.

  "They went off to some reception, something about a General Schleicher -- Manfred, whatever is wrong with you?"

  CHAPTER 22

  British Embassy, Berlin, Brandenburg, Germany, Saturday, August 8, 1936

  "His Excellency, the Chancellor of Germany, and Baroness von Richthofen!" the usher said. "Karl-Bolko and Viktoria Baron and Baroness von Richthofen! Mr and Mrs George P. Putnam! Mr Randolph Spencer Churchill!"

  "George, he's wearing more jewelry than I am!" Manfred heard Earhart say, joshingly.

  "Uncle, she's just jealous," Carmen said, her arm firmly through his.

  "Remember Carmen, you will have to leave tonight at ten to go to bed."

  This was a different sort of reception; the Reichskanzler, his niece, his brother and sister-in-law, and his foreign guests entered the atrium of the British Embassy. It was in the same block of the Wilhelmstrasse, they could have walked there, but Diels and Admiral von Levetzow tended to turn sickly pale when discussing security for a walk like that, so for the short distance there they drove.

  It was a white tie and tails -- and medals -- affair. That was the "jewelry" Earhart was complaining about. Manfred noticed that she wore her Belgian order and that American medal, their Distinguished Flying Cross. Now Slim Lindbergh had their Medal of Honor too, and after the closing ceremonies they both would be knights of the Hohenzollern House Order . . . He dragged himself back to the present.

  He had insisted on Randolph coming along, though the young Churchill had made a point of sniffing about "journalistic integrity". To which he had replied, "You mean like those devoted seekers after truth Goebbels, Münzenberg, and Streicher?"

  Yesterday's Welt am Abend had had a front-page article about the massacres in Badajoz. "German-made bullets were extracted from the bodies recovered by a team of daring pro-democracy activists who infiltrated the Fascist lines, proof that the government is cooperating with the Fascist enemies of democracy and freedom in Spain." Der Angriff contained a similar comment, only about "A band of racial heroes true to the Aryan spirit of the ancient Visigoths who had built Spain, who infiltrated the Communist lines to discover this vile Judeobolshevik plot." Did some of those writers keep a foot in both camps?

  Admittedly Streicher had made a misstep himself. The new issue of Der Stürmer had a grotesque picture of "Nigger-America sports beasts" on the front page and an article calling for "Nigger Owens" to be stripped of his medals on the grounds that the Olympics was for people. An outraged band of track and field fans had taken one seller's bundle of papes and burned them (both Berlin am Morgen and the Vössische Zeitung had made this "censorship" front-page news), and sales for Der Stürmer had generally fallen off in Berlin.

  But they had to circulate, and Manfred began to tour the packed reception hall. One of the guests turned his head when they approached. "Shouldn't I be the one with the beautiful dancer who's really a spy, Herr President Firefly?" Papen said, and laughed. "Oh Martha, you remember that silly movie with the brothers."

  Frau von Papen said, "I don't get that Herr Groucho's jokes. He talks too fast. He made comments at the American reception about the Kaiser and they went right past me. Herr von Richthofen, who is this lovely young lady?"

  "My niece, Carmen. Lothar's daughter."

  Carmen curtseyed. "I am pleased to meet you again, Herr M
inister von Papen, I am pleased to meet you, Frau von Papen."

  "Such a sweet little girl," Martha von Papen said. "She'll make someone a fine wife."

  Manfred could feel Earhart looking daggers into his back from across the room, and she couldn't possibly have heard that statement. But he said, "Frau von Papen, I hope she will marry happily and well. But this is the twentieth century, many women make their own careers."

  "If they'd only make good ones!" Papen said, breaking the strain. Then he looked and said, "Oh dear, that's him."

  "Who?"

  They were all of a sudden alone. After Papen's comment, Carmen had gone off to talk, probably to Earhart, and Martha von Papen said something about seeing a friend, leaving them alone. Now Papen was looking to one side, at the British Ambassador and his -- wife? No, she was ill, it was his sister-in-law and her husband. He identified the other man with them. "Sir Robert Vansittart. He doesn't like the Nazis."

  "Who does?"

  "You know who -- but in any case, he seems to think that we are their front men, or that some group is controlling both of us."

  Manfred gave a hollow laugh. "Woollcott sent me a book last year about 'The German General Staff and its flunkey von Richthofen', how I had been put in power by the General Staff. I sent it to General Beck when I was done, with a note complementing him on his good judgment and effectiveness. You should be miffed -- it hardly mentioned you at all."

  "Next thing you know, they'll be saying that Herr Ford is bankrolling your re-election campaign."

  "But I'm not -- there's no understanding some people. Oh, there's that Polish glider pilot. What's he doing here? I suppose I ought to say hello."

  Bolko stood in front of the large buffet.

  "You know, affairs of state are absolutely overwhelming you," he said. "This is the first chance we've had to talk since the Games opened. It can't all be bad, didn't you say you had had Beneš and Hodža eating out of your hand? This place is too crowded."