Resolute Nazi

by Wagher, Ward

  “It makes me appreciate just what a remarkable document the U.S. Constitution is.”

  He nodded. “I agree. It is an amazing treatise. When I finally got around to reading it, I was amazed at its stark simplicity. I think we could learn a lot from simplicity.”

  “Why don’t you just borrow it?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Unfortunately, German history precludes us from adopting something like that. On the other hand, a German constitutional committee will probably deliver a document that is unrivaled in complexity.”

  “I would hope not.”

  “I believe that is why Herr Schloss has not called a committee as yet,” he said.

  “I don’t believe it will get any easier with time.”

  “That may be true.”

  The car pulled up in front of the American Embassy.

  “Here already,” she said.

  “Thank you for an enchanting evening,” he said.

  She gave him a brilliant smile as she got out of the Mercedes limousine.

  “Until next time, Karl.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  June 14, 1943; 2 PM

  Government Council Chamber

  Reich Chancellery

  Berlin, Germany

  Heinrich Schloss glared as he scanned the room where his government ministers were seated. They stared back at him. The room was silent. No one wanted to respond to the Reich Chancellor’s outburst. Schloss had shocked himself. The news had propelled him to his feet, and he hurled a torrent of invective at Goering and Guderian. Schloss took two deep breaths and sat down.

  He mentally reviewed some of the history texts from 1982 Berlin and was reminded of Hitler’s insane tirades when the war began to turn against him. He wondered if there was something about the ugly nature of this place or whether it was the mysterious circumstances that transported him here. Was the insanity of the Nazis infectious? Would he eventually end his life in the Führerbunker with an orgy of madness? He took a deep breath and willed himself back under control.

  “I apologize for that outburst, meine Herren. This news was unexpected and it surprised me. Now, please explain to me what has happened.”

  Goering started to speak, and Guderian placed his hand on the other’s arm.

  “To put it in a nutshell, Herr Reich Chancellor, the Red Army has managed to close the salient we created in their lines at Lublin. General Model’s four divisions are trapped behind Russian Lines.”

  “Thank you, General. Now, please explain to me how this happened.”

  “Of course, Herr Reich Chancellor. The Red Army had several divisions down for rest and recuperation to the East. They got moving in response to the threat far faster than we would have believed. To the West, the Russians abandoned Warsaw and stripped a lot of troops from the front to approach the Schwerpunkt from the West. They took a page out of our book. It was a lightning-quick action.”

  The room relaxed somewhat as Schloss quizzed Guderian about the setback.

  “You were previously not complimentary of the Russian General in the West if memory serves.”

  Guderian laughed sourly. “That would be General Menschkin. As fortune would have it, he was killed in one of our V1 strikes. His adjutant, Colonel Smirnoff, is in command and a quick-thinking officer.”

  “And we have how many men trapped in the pocket?”

  “Nearly one-hundred-thousand,” Guderian replied unflinchingly.

  “How did we miss it? Where were our reconnaissance aircraft?”

  “After the Russian air corps tore such a hole in our bomber forces, we were able to reestablish control of the air over the theater. But it is not a dome made of iron. The Russians have assumed that any single aircraft overhead is for observation and have become distressingly good at shooting them down.”

  “I thought we had high altitude aircraft the Russians could not touch,” Rainer interjected.

  “We have one such aircraft,” Guderian explained. “It is a prototype. We were watching the forces moving in from the East and completely missed what Smirnoff was doing.”

  “I hope we are building more.”

  “There are several under construction,” Goering explained. “I should have recognized the need sooner.”

  Schloss began tapping his pencil on the tabletop, first by the point and then by the eraser.

  “Please allow me to take a shortcut to the end of the story,” Schloss said. “What are we doing to get our men out of there? Aside from the overall impact on the nation’s morale, we scarcely can afford to lose that many men from our forces.”

  “I was at our Eastern headquarters this morning,” Guderian said. “Rommel and Model are coordinating their activities. They are planning a feint to draw the Russians away from where they will break through back to an area under our control.”

  “Show me on the map,” Schloss ordered.

  Guderian slipped out of his chair and walked around the table to where a map of Europe lay before the meeting attendees. He pointed to an area west of Lublin with a pencil.

  “Model will swing around behind the Eastern division to breakout here. Rommel will engage the Russians near the point where Model originally entered the pocket. Once Model’s forces are secure, we will withdraw. At the same time, we will push to find an opening in the front on the Western side.”

  Schloss stood up again and leaned over to study the map. He straightened up and put his hands on his hips as he looked at Guderian.

  “While I am not a strategist, meine Herren, this looks like a desperate maneuver. What are the chances of success?”

  Guderian looked directly at Schloss. “I place the odds at no more than fifty-fifty, Herr Reich Chancellor.”

  Schloss exhaled as though he had been punched. He stared at Guderian and then at Goering. He folded his arms across his chest.

  “Very well. First of all, General Guderian, thank you for giving me your frank opinion. And thank you also for not trying to hide the severity of the situation.”

  “I think we need another pair of eyes at the front,” Rainer interrupted. “We are looking at a disaster of the first order.”

  Schloss looked at Rainer and then back at Guderian. He gave the general a crooked smile. “I suspect you are receiving a surfeit of military advice, Heinz.”

  Guderian was not quite to the point of wearing his trademark smirk, but his mouth quirked.

  “I suppose you could say that, Herr Reich Chancellor.”

  “Let me say this, then,” Schloss stated, “I refuse to try to manage this war personally. That is why we have the Wehrmacht and the OKW. If I should lose confidence in Schneller Heinz or Herr Goering, I will find other military men to prosecute the war.”

  “Thank you, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Goering said.

  “Do not thank me, Herr Reichsmarshall. Ghastly uncertainties characterize war. We will have victories, and unfortunately, we will suffer losses. My instructions are simple: get my people out of there.”

  “Jawohl, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Guderian jumped to attention.

  Schloss looked around the room. “Is there any other urgent business that won’t wait for tomorrow?”

  Peter looked around the room and then slid a document back into his portfolio. Given the current situation, Schloss did not need to see the latest article from the New York Times. There was nothing anyone could do about it anyway, and Schloss was under plenty of stress. And this article was incendiary.

  “A word, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Rainer said quietly.

  “Very well,” Schloss stated. “We are done here, then.”

  Without another word, Schloss turned and walked quickly from the room. Peter Schreiber stood and looked down the table at Guderian, who was stuffing his papers back into a valise.

  “Heinz, I hope for all our sakes you know what you are doing.”

  “I understand, Herr Schreiber.”

  Peter turned and followed Rainer out of the Council Chamber. He caught up with the Reichsprotektor
as they moved along the short hallway to Schloss’s office.

  “Gott in Himmel, what a mess, Karl.”

  “Isn’t it just. I am worried about Herr Schloss.”

  “As am I.”

  When they entered Schloss’s office, they saw he was already behind the desk and sitting with his head in his hands. Kirche bustled in with a coffee cup and a fresh carafe.

  “Here you go, Herr Reich Chancellor.”

  Schloss looked up quickly as Kirche slid the cup and saucer in front of him. “Ah, thank you, Willem. What would I do without you? This looks very good.”

  “Part of my job, mein Herr,” Kirche said, and he quickly left the room.

  Schloss picked up the cup and took a sip of the hot coffee. He then gazed at Rainer and Schreiber.

  “Intellectually, one knows there will be bad days. That does nothing to soften the pain and fear.”

  “Let me say, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Rainer began, “I think you said exactly the right thing in there.”

  “I would second that, Hennie,” Schreiber added.

  “I am confident we can recover from a defeat like this,” Schloss said. “It is the pain of losing those men to the Russians. I am confident that not one in ten will ever return to the Fatherland. That is a lot of husbands and sons.”

  Schloss looked back and forth at the two men and then sighed. “You might as well have a seat. Willem! Some coffee for my guests.”

  They sat silently as Kirche brought in more coffee along with a platter of pastries. After he left, Schloss studied them.

  “The three of us now need to manage this imminent defeat. We must hold the government and the nation together.”

  “What about the Wehrmacht?” Peter asked.

  “Hermann and Schneller Heinz can handle that far better than we could.”

  “And we should remember that all is not necessarily lost,” Rainer said.

  “Did you not see the looks on the faces of Guderian and Rommel. They might not admit it, but they know they’ve lost this one.”

  “Does this mean we have lost the war, Hennie?” Peter asked.

  Schloss shook his head. “No, Peter. We knew that we would need to dance along a knife-edge to stop the Russians without destroying our army in the process. We have just cut ourselves. The measure of Heinz Guderian will be in how recovers from this setback. We have proven the strategy works. I think Rommel and Model allowed themselves to get just a little bit too clever, and we paid for it.”

  “I will begin working on ways to manage the information flow,” Peter said.

  “We cannot afford to lie to the people, Peter. We do not need to release details the Russians can use but do not attempt to hide the fact that we lost one. If you decide it will help, I can address the nation.”

  Peter nodded and sipped his coffee. Schloss looked over at Rainer.

  “And what is it that you had, Karl?”

  “I thought I should let you know I will be traveling to Munich on Friday. It is past time to see how things are going in the party offices there.”

  “Take an extra day and go walking in the mountains,” Schloss ordered.

  “I had already planned to do so,” Rainer said.

  Schloss gazed at him for a few moments and suddenly grinned. “I understand, Karl. And Karl? Take one of the Condors. If a crisis pops up somewhere, I might need you back here quickly.”

  “Of course, Herr Reich Chancellor.”

  § § §

  June 14, 1943; 10 PM

  Reich Chancellor’s Apartments

  Reich Chancellery

  Berlin Germany

  Gisela held her husband close as they lay in bed. His tears dripped onto her breast as he shook with silent sobs. It was a while before he was able to speak again, and then in a broken voice.

  “All those people, Gisela. I approved Rommel’s plan despite my misgivings.”

  She stroked his head. “You made the best decision you could. Do you think Heinz will learn from this?”

  “Oh, he will. But, the price. The price!”

  She held him for a long while, and finally, he slept. She eased out of bed and donned a robe. She walked to the kitchen where Frau Marsden stood.

  “Could you not have warned us?” Gisela asked.

  The old woman shook her head sadly. “There are many things I am not permitted to reveal. The nation must pay a price for its casual treatment of its past. But, Herr Schloss will ultimately triumph, and the nation will be stronger for it.”

  “That seems so callous,” Gisela said. “What about all those thousands who will go into captivity?”

  “The Maker has his plans even for those men.”

  “I just do not understand you,” Gisela snapped.

  Frau Marsden moved across the room and put her hands on Gisela’s shoulders. “You already understand far more than you really should, Frau Schloss. The nation is set on a path, and there is nothing you or Herr Schloss can do to change what will be.”

  Gisela jerked backward. “Then why must Hennie suffer?” she hissed.

  “There are things you and Herr Schloss must learn, Liebchen. It is the only way to do so.”

  “Then you are not our friend,” she snapped.

  Gisela whirled around and returned to the bedroom. She walked to the window, where she folded her arms and looked out at the sleeping city. She stood for a long time.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  June 18, 1943; 2 PM

  Over Southern Germany

  The passenger cabin of the Focke-Wulf Condor was nearly filled. Over the last few years, the size of Karl Rainer’s entourage increased. The Reich Chancellor became annoyed every time someone tried to attach himself to the traveling team. Rainer was more philosophical about the hangers-on.

  “What do all these people do, Karl?” Misty Simpson asked.

  They sat beside each other on the front row of the passenger cabin and were well treated by the cabin stewards.

  “Mostly, they are part of my security contingent,” he answered. “Then, there is the usual collection of people to manage communications back to Berlin and otherwise act important.”

  She giggled at his wry tone. “You could probably limit that if you wanted to.”

  “It’s not worth the trouble. I simply have refused to travel with more than one aircraft. When it is filled, that’s it. My security team knows what they need. I rely on my secretary to decide who else can come aboard. The competition is lively.”

  “I’ll just bet it is.”

  “There has not been bloodshed over it so far,” he commented, “but several senior officers have been at sword’s point.”

  “I can imagine,” she said. “We have status contests in the embassy as well. Smoke just loves to play one embassy officer against the other. I must admit it is entertaining.”

  Rainer chuckled. “I suppose people are the same the world over. Has the ambassador tried to use those contests as a tactic to minimize your role?”

  “Actually, no,” she explained. “Smoke has made it clear that I am the number two official in the embassy, and I can pretty much do as I please, only subject to his oversight.”

  “That surprises me.”

  “It surprised me, too,” she said, “until I thought about it a little bit. He doesn’t like me a lot, but my position reflects on his exalted status as the ambassador. He is intolerant of threats to my position because it indirectly threatens his position.”

  “Sort of like my arrangement with my secretary.”

  “He seems rather bloodthirsty,” she surmised.

  “Oh, he is. When I explained to him my reasoning behind insisting on a single airplane for these trips, he was immediately supportive. I think he enjoys the jousting.”

  “He seems humorless,” she speculated.

  “Oh, he has a sense of humor. It is simply no fun to be on the receiving end. He doesn’t mess with me, but he terrorizes the office.”

  “Haven’t they tried going around him?” she aske
d.

  “Oh, yes. One of them will slip something into the agenda of one of the meetings and request an additional aircraft for the next trip. I just refer them back to Helmuth. He usually finds a way to make them wish they hadn’t tried anything like that.”

  “I guess it keeps things orderly,” she said, giggling.

  “Oh, it does.”

  The conversation tapered off as they watched the ground slipping past under the Condor. The steward served them a light lunch of pork loin and mustard sandwiches. Misty ate part of a sandwich and refused the pastries that the steward offered. She checked her watch and decided they were still an hour away from landing.

  “What is going on in the East?” she asked Rainer.

  He looked over at her and shook his head. “The news is not good. Model tried breaking through the Russian lines, and they slammed the door behind him. We will likely lose several divisions as a result.”

  She looked at him, her mouth open in surprise. “Germany is losing an entire army?”

  “Technically, no. Rommel committed our strategic reserve, so it was about four divisions. Which is still a serious loss.”

  “What did Herr Schloss say?”

  “He yelled a lot at first,” Rainer said. “Peter and I walked back to his office after the meeting. He was distraught.”

  “He should have sacked Rommel for that,” she declared.

  “There was some comment about that in the council meeting, but he refused. He asked if anyone in the room could do better. He later told us that war involves calculated risk, and sometimes things go against you.”

  “But what if Germany loses the war?” she asked. “This frightens me.”

  “Herr Schloss is confident we will eventually win. I have learned not to bet against him. Make no mistake, Misty, this is a serious loss. We cannot afford many like it. But we have been bleeding the Russians dry since the beginning of this war. There will come the point when the Red Army breaks. No one can continue with the losses they have experienced.”