CHAPTER 32
Reichskanzlei, Berlin, Brandenburg, Germany, Friday, April 21, 1939
"The government of the German Reich finds your presence no longer acceptable."
Ambassador François-Poncet stood before the table in the Cabinet room. That he was being declared persona non grata by the Reichskanzler himself emphasized the significance of the issue. But also present were the two Vizekanzler, Braun and Hugenberg, the third party leader, Papen, and of course the Foreign Minister, Neurath.
The French Ambassador received the news of his expulsion without comment. He nodded, got to his feet, and left. An escort of police was waiting outside the door; they would take him to the railroad station, not the French embassy.
"Outrageous! No country could consent to being so shamelessly used!" Hugenberg bellowed.
The French ambassador had met with Graf von Westarp of the Nationalists and Herr Joost of the Center Party, floating the prospect of a new Harzburg Front coalition with Strasser and even Goebbels. Whom he had also met with. Perhaps he had meant only to tear the Reich apart; as it was, his double-dealing was opportunistic.
It had worked last time: Brüning had obediently gone down when François-Poncet had put a long burst into his engine. Repetition failed; Westarp and Joost had rejected his proposals with loathing. They may have had differences with some of the other parties in the government, but not so much as to overthrow Richthofen, and particularly not at the behest of the French. And so the German Chancellor had summoned to stand with him the men who were supposed to topple him, all to impart that realization to the French Ambassador.
Now the main concern was whether the French foreign minister would disavow any knowledge of the matter.
"And so Bonnet fell on his sword," Bolko said, lightly. A week had passed and there had been the expected new French government, with the expected effectively nonexistent turnover.
"Daladier must have a bad case of the Mussolinis," Manfred replied. "Taking the Foreign Office portfolio too, I mean. But how were things in England?"
His brother became even more cheerful. "Very well. Chamberlain looked almost pathetic -- I think he's ill -- but Eden was better off.
"It seems that they considered taking Albania a bigger threat; Italy is getting more aggressive in the Mediterranean. They were negotiating with Metaxas in Greece, Eden said, and they were satisfied with my explanations. Dollfuss did come to us, didn't he?"
"If you had seen his face . . . I could have had troops marching into Vienna on Tuesday, as far as he was concerned. He would have served up Fey and Starhemburg on silver platters, covered with gravy, if I had asked."
Bolko shook his head. "Then we would have been the evil Huns again. As it looks now -- I saw the papers before I left -- you're the great savior of stability in Europe.
"It helped when I got in that bid on the betting parlours. And I got two invitations to the Grand National from their Uradel. That Herzog von Beaufort, he likes the horses."
Papen was even more cheerful. He delivered the report to the cabinet. "Herr Beneš appreciated the Reich's concern about Italian expansionism into the Balkans and we have worked up the text of a joint statement. He is perhaps a trifle overwrought about Austrian internal affairs, but we agreed that no matter what we thought of the people running Austria, it was far better that hostile powers not meddle with their internal affairs. In fact, he was most agreeable to the prospect of a defensive bloc -- he can look at a map as well as anyone else."
Neurath, by way of contrast, had less good news. "The Reich has pledged to support the League of Nations [at this there were somewhat disrespectful noises from Hugenberg, though not Treviranus, Westarp, or Goerdeler, who were sitting in as State Secretaries] in any sanctions it may wish to impose on Italy. I fear, though, that these will be even less effective than last time. We live in a world of raw naked power; and it may be best to sacrifice Albania lest Soviet Russia be tolerated to expand."
The Social Democrats looked enraged, and among the other less conservative party ministers even Moldenhauer and State Secretary Erhard seemed a bit out out at this characterization. Manfred decided to avert a quarrel.
"I think we should all thank the Herren Foreign Minister and Minister without Portfolio for their contribution to bettering the foreign relations of the Reich," he began. "We are all in agreement, I think, that it is highly undesirable that it is undesirable for the resolution of our own diplomatic disagreements that other nations be allowed to start a general war.
"It has been my policy to promote such peaceful resolutions whenever possible. Being peaceful, while being prepared for war, has proven successful. We must work for the long term; while being belligerent and overbearing, as various extremists in our country propose, might well win such successes quickly, in the long term such posturing will only do us harm. His former Majesty managed to bring the nations of Europe into a coalition against him, provoking a war he of all people did not want. At great effort we have -- I have -- won back some share of our nation's standing in the world.
"In due time the Czechs and Austrians will come to depend on the Reich. We will get what we want in the Sudetenland -- we will get the allegiance and cooperation of Austria, all without war or even saber-rattling, and we can save our sabers for those they should be rattled against, Stalin, Mussolini.
"Poland, I admit, will be a harder problem. Again, let me say, and those within hearing of my voice will be the ones to do it, by our current course, by staying within the norms of world opinion, we will soon, sooner than later, turn opinion such that Poland will be in the wrong, and the Reich in the right. Then we shall achieve our aims without fighting.
"This is why I have concentrated my goals. Memel would be fine to have, yes. But which is worth more, Memel or Danzig? Confirming the Lithuanians in their possession of Memel in turn confirmed an alliance between the Reich and Lithuania. They have claims on Poland, too. Imagine if the Polish flag flew over Berlin; that is how the Lithuanians see their place in the world, their rightful capital Vilnius under the Polish heel. We have given them something, which is more than the Poles seem able to do.
"Those parties in this coalition that favor more powers to the Reichstag will be minded to recall that in the War, the Reichstag was forced to delegate its power to the executive, due to the exigencies of the fighting. I think they do not want that to happen again!
"A gradual approach, while often seeming unavailing, is in my view the best way to achieve our goals. However, I will be stepping down soon enough and if you can form a government, you will have the power to put your goals into action.
"And now, Herren, shall we quit fruitlessly debating and decide whether the treaty with Austria will be presented to the Reichstag?"
"What do we want!? ANSCHLUSS! When do we want it!? NOW!!"
For a change, Goebbels was sitting facing the podium. However he was sitting towards the back, facing the rest of the Nazi party delegation, who were as usual sitting with their backs to the podium, all in their brown Party uniforms. Their chant was meant to disrupt anyone trying to speak. Already one Strasserite had gone over to remonstrate with his ex-colleagues and now he was in the infirmary along with the first one he had tried to discuss the matter with.
Wels did not seem to be particularly eager to silence the chaos. He had handed down a note to the cabinet table saying, "Let them discredit themselves." Manfred thought that wasn't a bad idea but as it now stood the treaty might never even get voted on before the term of the Reichstag expired.
Meanwhile they just sat and endured it.
"What do we want!? ANSCHLUSS! When do we want it!? NOW!!"
"Thus the virtue of supermajorities," Papen said, condescendingly. "Even though about a hundred Social Democrats abstained and two dozen actually voted with the opposition, the treaty still passed by 480 to 100. I again commend to you the principle practiced in America, where the vote by state becomes a bloc vote for the votes of that state, and so magnifies majorities. Our Am
erican, er, colleagues were rightly suspicious of direct democracy."
He was lecturing Manfred as they tried to formulate a response to the changing situation.
"I am surprised you have not cited the example of Italy," Manfred replied. "But then, you realize, implementing such a proposal here would hand the government over to the Social Democrats in perpetuity. They get the largest total vote, as I am sure you are aware; with that Italian provision, they would get two-thirds of the Reichstag members. I doubt you want that.
"For now, I can't bother with constitutional matters. Dollfuss was working with us already but now we have to speak with one voice, or at least in the same range. And we have to deal with outraged opinion not only here, but in Czechoslovakia. What was that you said about the Lithuanians?"
Papen seemed quite happy to change the subject. "Smetona will make a state visit in May. While he is here, their Prime Minister, Cernius, will sign the treaty of alliance. Then General Udet will represent the Reich at the establishment of the advance basing, and an air squadron will carry out training flights along with the Lithuanian Air Force, such as it is.
"Herr Ulmanis of Latvia will be meeting with our ambassador next week. And the joint exercises in Saxony with the Czechs seem to be working out. I expect that by this summer, Moscicki, Beck, and the rest of that lot in Warsaw will see the light!"
He should not have been quite so mad at the American Staatspolizei, after they found that one letter he had sent Gernsback, which the postman, seeing "Richthofen" on the envelope, had stolen and sold to an autograph collector. They had developed an alternative to ensure he got his American mail. A box in Washington received mail for "Fred V. Smith", and a man from the Embassy picked it up and put it in the weekly diplomatic pouch.
But some people were going along with the idea perhaps a little too enthusiastically. "Mrs. G. Palmer" for example, and he had wondered who it was until he remembered Putnam's middle name. Earhart had some comments:
The President is worried about the deterioration in international relations, or so Eleanor told me. He is planning to write a letter to every leader in Europe asking them to keep the peace, she said, and I told her that that was a good thing to say but not likely to make much of an effect.
She asked about you and I told her about what you had said about your dead friends. I know you don't want another war like the last one. But it may come to that, or even worse, and then where will we be?
She seemed more pleased with the news about the autogyros and had even been to see Sikorsky's new powered-rotor model, which he had promised to let her fly. He needed some good news.
"The maximum speed we expect is 700 kilometers per hour."
The sleek plane had been rolled out of the hangar at the Heinkel testing field and now sat amid scurrying ground crew, filling, buffing, preparing. A very interested test pilot from the War watched with some envy. Summer was giving way to autumn, that mild first day of September, and the Reichskanzler was playing hooky; he had flown up to the testing field at Rostock to see this new engine Heinkel was developing.
"Seven hundred kph," Manfred said. "That's quite an impressive turn of speed. Your own He-112 can only do about five hundred, and Herr Messerschmidt's new Emil has boosted its speed to just under six hundred. Wonderful! Can I see the cockpit?"
Bodenschatz, behind him, groaned, then began to fumble in his pockets. He still carried those pictures inscribed "To my esteemed fighting companion" and would need to hand out a lot of them to encourage people to keep their mouths shut.
Manfred stepped closer to the little plane. It was so sleek and trim -- if the old D.VIII had been a razor, what was this, they would have to invent some new word of speed and elegance. He stood by the nose and looked into the opening. "This is your doing, Herr von Ohain?"
The engineer had come to stand at his shoulder. "The boys and me," he said, modestly. "I hear the English are doing something but we are far ahead. I'm surprised the Amis aren't in the field."
"So am I."
He walked back to the cockpit, then began taking off his suit jacket. "Herr Reichskanzler! What gives!" they said.
A few meters away Bodenschatz said, resignedly, "You'll find the flying jacket in the bag in the trunk." Manfred himself just stood there, looking over the cockpit, and with a feeling of doom the testers from Heinkel began to tell their stockholder about the controls and the need for special care with the new engine. He owned shares, he was the Reichskanzler, and he had a reputation going all the way back to the War for wringing out the new planes -- they would have had a hard time saying no.
The man Bodenschatz had sent came back with his old leather flying jacket, and after putting it on, Manfred pulled himself into the cockpit, and the Red Battle-Flyer prepared to set forth on another mission.
The engine started up -- a whine instead of the usual banging and pounding. He fed it a little more fuel, feeling and even hearing the thrust. Then they closed the cockpit and he began to follow the ground controller, away from the hangar.
The plane rolled to the start of the runway, then at the signal he gave it more fuel and set off, down, feeling the speed, the thrust . . . It became unstuck and he lifted the nose, then faster faster faster. No more open cockpits now, at this speed the wind would blow out what brains he had left. For a moment he imagined standing the plane on its tail and heading for the sky. He put it into a gentle turn again, feeling that incredible thrust, that blessed silence, at least by comparison. The world below shrank to nothingness. "Who can tell what machine we shall employ a year hence in order to perforate the atmosphere?" he had asked, once upon a time, and this was his answer. Yes he was perforating the atmosphere, faster than ever before. To fly like a bird . . .
God, what had Ohain said, "The engine sucked in a bird last time and we nearly lost it."
He looked down over the choppy Baltic, then east towards somnolent Poland. Well, no need to think about that then. But a leader does have responsibilities. He turned the plane back towards the field, lined up with the runway, dropped the flaps, and mushed it down.
They must have been terrified that their prototype might crack up and kill the Reichskanzler. There had been Willi Reinhard after all. A surge of ground crew, led by Ohain and Bodenschatz, advanced on the He-178 after he stopped it, but he had the canopy opened by the time they got there.
He stared at Ohain. "Herr von Ohain, it's like being pushed by angels!"
They cheered. He waited for the enthusiasm to abate. "This is a revolution in flight! Herren, you will tell your grandchildren about this!" He was becoming a politician.
Bodenschatz coughed. "Herr Major, we still have this afternoon's events at Griefswader Oie," he said, discreetly.
But Manfred was loath to exit the future for a moment.
"Cousin Karlchen was always something of a Tollpatsch," the chief designer said. "If he had a kite it would go straight into a tree, and I can't even begin to tell you how many times he fell down during soccer games trying to make a kick. So you see, Herr Reichskanzler, you're not the only one with a large extended family."
The observation post at Peenemünde was still as simple as ever. Its logs were a little more weathered, a little more decrepit. The rocket on the launch stand, however, was less so. White, shiny, and new, the Aggregat-5 stood ready to lift off, tall and pale in the late afternoon Baltic light.
"There was only so much money, that was why we had Heinkel scale back the rocket plane," Manfred said, apologetically. "I had to send Wolfram to tell them the bad news, but he came there straight from here. He's back at the group now, back with his men."
"One thing at a time," Wernher said, eye to the telescope. "Let's finish developing this engine, then we can put it in something else.
"Remember the Aggregat-3 rocket you saw? We should get better range on this model, then when we get all of its problems worked out we can go back and get the Aggregat-4 working. You saw the model. After that, a second stage, and before long we can put up a capsul
e; have it go up and come down again. Instruments, maybe even a specimen of some sort."
"What sort? I hope you're not going to send a man up in that thing!" Manfred suddenly remembered why the managers back at Marienehe had been so upset when he had talked so enthusiastically about their new jet engine airplane -- it was a prototype, they had just barely begun flying it!
"I was thinking -- maybe a chimp. Oh, here we go. Countdown resumed at T minus three minutes, mark!"
The rocket sat on the launch stand, wreathed in mist from condensation on the liquid oxygen within. He remembered trying to explain liquid oxygen to people; the boys understood it right away, of course, but he was surprised that Randolph had, until he had made some comment about "It's like with dry ice, right?"
"Five, four, ignition sequence started, two, one, zero and ACH DU SCHEISSE!" Wernher said, and then grabbed his most distinguished guest by the sleeve and dragged him away. The rocket had lifted about a meter off the launch stand, then just hung there, hovering, the intense fiery blast charring the sodden sandy soil. It was drifting, randomly, and might end up in a most inconvenient place.
Manfred's mind finally caught up with the program and he outran Wernher, heading for the concrete structure behind the observation post. Everyone else within view had the same idea, though, and they piled in like an English rugby match. Manfred ended up with someone's boot in his mouth.
They all held their breaths. Then there was a crack and bang. From the bottom of the pile-up Wernher said, or tried to say, "All clear." They began to unpile.
Bodenschatz had a bootprint on his back, and Manfred noticed a general dishevelment among the researchers and observers. "Let's go see," Wernher said.
They trooped out to the smoking crater in the ground, connected to the launch stand by a charred strip. Various-sized fragments of metal adorned the ground. From behind him he heard a long whistle, followed by, "Now THAT was close!" He turned and saw "that"; a long piece of piping that had been driven like a javelin into the wood of the observation post.
A Man and a Plane: An Alternate Germany Page 48