Resolute Nazi
Page 25
“Well, the prime minister will just have to be unhappy with it. He went to Cologne to get a peace treaty with Schloss. I will insist, however, that the summit remains a secret. Clement is concerned about what the broad public response to such a meeting would look like.”
“Why are you doing this, Your Majesty?”
The queen looked at the prime minister’s helper and wondered at the impertinence of the question. Yet it was the same question Attlee had asked her. If she were honest with herself, she would say she no idea why she should do something like this. Yet, she was convinced she must.
“Did Clement tell you what I told him?”
“Yes, Ma’am. With all due respect, it seems a bit thin.”
She looked at Colin Marty’s earnest face and restrained herself from flying into one of her patented rages. He was a respectful man and deserved a respectful answer.
“Very well, Mr. Marty, the truth of the matter is that I don’t know. I simply feel that this is something I must do.” She cracked a grin. “And I imagine that that was a far less satisfactory answer than I gave you originally.”
“Not at all, Your Majesty,” he said. “I appreciate your forbearance. My wife tells me that when silence is called for, I often say exactly the wrong thing.”
She rewarded him with one of her belly laughs. “Do not ever let anyone discourage you from speaking your mind, Mr. Marty. I believe it is one of your endearing characteristics. As you probably know, I am no fan of keeping quiet myself.”
“I, of course, would not dare speak to that, Ma’am.”
She continued grinning broadly as she returned to the dispatch case. The stack of papers made her despair getting outside before lunch. And the afternoon weather would not likely be as lovely as the morning appeared to be.
“Please allow me to suggest, Mr. Marty, that we take a break. I would like a couple of hours to walk the estate while the weather is good. I shall have to abandon this place for London, not many days hence. After I return and have a lunch, we will return to our tasks. I shall make sure the staff sees that you are watered and fed. I am sure you will have many notes to transcribe.”
Marty stood. “Of course, Your Majesty. I will hold myself immediately available upon your return.”
“Of course, you will.” She patted his shoulder as she walked past him out of the room.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
September 2, 1943; 10 AM
Hilo, Hawaii
General Thomas E. Bourke, USMC, strode up the beach from his landing craft. In the distance, he could see the city of Hilo nestled along the bay, and it was quiet. He turned to his adjutant, Colonel Calvin Boyd.
“I didn’t expect an unopposed landing, Cal. Where is everybody?”
The colonel was also looking around. “I wonder if the Japs all vamoosed. It doesn’t look like any of the locals are out, either. This bothers me, Sir.”
“Pass the word for everybody to watch out for booby traps. It looks like they took the opportunity to disappear while we were cleaning up Oahu. I wouldn’t complain, mind you. It looks to me like they did to the people here what they did on Oahu, only they had more time to spend at it.”
“That’s what I am afraid of, Sir.”
The general scanned the beach and the city in the distance and sighed. He turned back to Colonel Boyd.
“Let’s go ahead and send the team over to secure the airport. Tell them if they encounter resistance, they should pull back immediately.”
“Aye, aye, General.”
“Let’s get the rest of the division train on shore before we head to the city. I think we should follow our original plan and set up a secure bivouac before we do anything else. We don’t need to have the Japs surprise us.”
“I will get things moving, General. It looks like we have a temporary headquarters set up for you,” the colonel said, pointing to a sandbagged area at the top of the beach.
“Thank you, Colonel. You are efficient as always.”
General Bourke marched over to where a wall of sandbags guarded a tent against shrapnel and small arms fire. The tent fabric would not slow down a mortar shell, but it seemed like the marines didn’t have to worry about that today. As he walked into the tent, he wondered how long it would be before someone encountered the first of the mass graves that were sure to dot the island. The island of Hawaii, or the big island, as it was called, was not as densely populated as Oahu, likely due to the active volcanoes on the island. Bourke hoped that most of the inhabitants had been wise enough to head into the countryside when the Japs came ashore. There was not a lot of available intelligence on what went on during the invasion because the rest of the country had its own problems during that time.
Meanwhile, the general walked into his temporary office on the beach of Hilo and began dealing with the never-ending paperwork that was the bane of military existence. The routine stuff never went away. A pallet of foodstuffs had dropped into the sea during the offloading process from the ships to the landing craft. He had to countersign the Supply Corps Captain’s report on the incident and approve the order of replacements. Some idiot of a corporal had managed to shoot himself in the foot while exiting the landing craft. There was the matter of reporting the injury, plus arranging for the court-martial because the fool had disobeyed orders and had chambered a round with the safety off. Bourke shook his head, not really in surprise, but at how quickly items like this popped up.
Colonel Boyd walked in an hour later and saluted.
“Sir, we have taken the airport. We encountered a single sniper along the way. That has been taken care of.”
“Did the sniper catch anybody?”
“No, Sir. The Jap was not a good shot. I think he had decided to stick around and see if he could plug a few Americans.”
“Very well, Colonel. Get the message off to Oahu. They are going to want to start flying stuff in here. I imagine they will want to get the Army embarked to take over here. Maui is next.”
“Aye, aye, Sir. And we found the first mass grave, Sir. It was behind the airport.”
Bourke swore and stood up. “I was hoping to avoid that. It was a faint hope, though. Well, you’ve got the plans in place for dealing with that. Go ahead and flag the area until we are sure the city is secure. Unfortunately, those poor souls in the ground aren’t going anywhere.”
“Of course, Sir.”
After Boyd left, Bourke sat down on his field chair and rested his head in his hands. It looked like there were at least one-hundred thousand people who had depended upon the United States armed forces to protect them. And Uncle Sam had failed these people, and the results of the American failure were ghastly. Since the army would follow the marines to take possession of the territory, it would fall to the dogfaces to unearth the graves and document what they found. While Bourke felt a little guilty about leaving that task to the army, he was relieved to be moving on. One thing was sure, however; nobody in the armed forces was inclined to cut the Japs any slack. They had committed mass murder of American citizens, and it was incumbent that they pay for that crime.
Late in the afternoon, the refugees began to straggle into the city, and Colonel Boyd set up a meal tent to feed them. While able to subsist in the countryside, most were malnourished. He moved among the people and noted the haunted look on so many faces. He wanted to escape that, but his duty was to protect the civilians, and that included taking care of the refugees.
§ § §
September 3, 1943; 10 AM
Washington National Airport
Arlington, Virginia, USA
Joachim von Ribbentrop, the Minister of Commerce for the German Reich stepped off the Focke-Wulf Condor onto the tarmac of the Washington National Airport. The German Ambassador, as well as the Secretary for Commerce from the embassy, greeted him.
Hans Thomsen, the ambassador, stepped forward and greeted Ribbentrop with a formal bow and a handshake.
“How was the flight, Herr Commerce Minister?”
> “Very long. To be honest, I was tempted to kneel and kiss the tarmac when we arrived. Flying that far over the ocean in a landplane is unnatural.”
The ambassador chuckled. “At least the last stretch was down the east coast.”
The Lufthansa Condor had flown from Lajes in the Azores to Portland, Maine, which was the shortest route over the Atlantic. The stretch from Portland to Washington was anticlimactic. Lufthansa was exploring the idea of setting up regular airline service to the United States. The problem they faced was that the Condor was just not long-legged enough for regular transatlantic service. The fuel load the airplane took on in Lajes precluded any profitable passenger capacity.
“When we landed in Portland, the pilot refused to tell me how much fuel we had remaining. It seems there were headwinds as we came across the Atlantic.”
“And I am sure you did not want to swim for the last part of your trip.”
Ribbentrop rolled his eyes. “Mein Gott, we must find something with a longer range.”
The commercial attaché stepped up. “Herr Commerce Minister, welcome to the United States. I am Gerd Amondine.”
They shook hands as Ribbentrop appraised the man. He had been appointed to the position by Ribbentrop’s predecessor, Wilhelm Frick. By all accounts, the man was not tainted by Frick’s extreme Nazi views or corruption. He seemed to be doing well in Washington. Ribbentrop hoped so. Germany needed to do a lot of business with the United States.
“I am pleased to meet you, finally,” Ribbentrop said. “We have a lot to accomplish during my stay here.”
Thomsen interrupted. “The Italians are holding a reception tonight in your honor, Herr Commerce Minister. It will be an opportunity to meet many of the key people in the American government. The American Secretary of State, Cordell Hull, and the Secretary of Commerce, Jesse Jones, will attend.”
“That is excellent, Herr Ambassador.”
“I thought you could have the day to rest and refresh yourself before getting down to business.”
Ribbentrop shook his head. “I slept on the airplane. I need a shower and a change of clothes, but then perhaps the three of us can meet and discuss my plans for the week.”
“Very well, Herr Commerce Minister. The embassy cars are waiting.”
They climbed into the ambassador’s car, a 1939 Horch 930 V Phaeton with the top down. The luggage and diplomatic bags were transferred to a 1940 Buick sedan owned by the embassy and would follow later. Ribbentrop gazed out the side of the car at the scenery as they traveled to the German embassy on Massachusetts Avenue.
“I have a letter from the Reich Chancellor to President Truman. If you might arrange a meeting, if possible, with the president so that I might deliver it personally, that would be good. Otherwise, I can entrust it to you. Herr Ambassador. However, it must be directly handed to the President.”
“I understand, Herr Commerce Minister. As soon as we reach the embassy, I will begin working on that for you.”
“Thank you. Perhaps we can reduce the formalities a little. If you might call me Joachim and I call you Hans.”
“That would be fine, Joachim. I believe we have known each other long enough.”
“Gerd still must bow and scrape, however.”
Amondine choked as the other two men laughed. He stared at Ribbentrop, seemingly confused. The commerce minister decided to take pity on him.
“You, of course, Gerd, can address me as you please. I only ask that we maintain the proper forms in public.”
Amondine looked between the two others as he thought about the situation.
“As you wish… Joachim. You will, of course, forgive me if I err on the side of formality.”
Ribbentrop grinned broadly. “I understand. There is a time for caution as well as for boldness.”
“I have arranged for a small luncheon in my private dining room,” the ambassador commented. “It should be ready by the time you have freshened up. The three of us can begin our private conversations.”
“That is fine with me. This town seems to be beastly hot.”
Thomsen watched as Ribbentrop pulled a handkerchief out and wiped his forehead.
“We have passed the worst of the summer, Joachim. Every summer, the denizens of this swamp curse the founders of this country who decided to place the capital city here. It is almost uninhabitable in August.”
“You can see why I requested funding to install air conditioning in the chancery. The note back from Herr Schreiber was rather curt. He felt it was a waste of good Reichsmarks.”
Ribbentrop chuckled. “You should be thankful you weren’t in Berlin to personally witness Herr Schloss's reaction.”
“Schloss knew about this?” Thomsen looked surprised.
“Peter mentioned it in the governing council meeting. It was right after we lost Model’s army in Poland, and the Reich Chancellor was in a foul mood.”
“Oh my. I hope I didn’t damage my standing in the government.”
Ribbentrop put his hand on Thomsen’s arm. “I think you have nothing to worry about. The Reich Chancellor has been pleased with your work here in Washington. This just caught him on a bad day. He yells very well, by the way.”
Thomsen put his hand over his face and shook his head. The other two men chuckled again.
“Not to worry,” Ribbentrop continued. “If things are this bad in September, I will see what I can do to get something approved. Perhaps we can talk the English out of a few Egyptians to wave palm fronds for you.”
“That would be better than nothing.
”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
September 6, 1943; 8 PM
Reich Chancellor’s Apartments
Reich Chancellery
Berlin, Germany
Gisela liked to make things special for her husband, the Reich Chancellor. He did wonder, however, about the events precipitating tonight’s candlelit dinner. The children had been bundled off to stay with Peter and Renate. Beyond setting dinner on the table, Frau Marsden had made herself scarce. The old woman exhibited a very satisfied mien as she set the plates with chicken cordon bleu on the table. The Prosecco was something with which he was not familiar. The chicken was prepared to perfection, as was the asparagus alongside it on the plate. He detected Frau Marsden’s touch and decided she had politely excused the Wehrmacht kitchen staff in her inimitable manner.
Schloss enjoyed the meal as well as the opportunity to spend time alone with Gisela. The candlelight set off the highlights in her flaming red hair as well as the shadows in her exquisitely carved face. He thought she looked ravishing and tried to determine the atmosphere of anticipation. Any night with Gisela drove the expectation within him, but there was a higher level of tension he couldn’t discern.
The soft communion was about nothing in particular. They usually talked about the day and the challenges both had faced. This evening felt to him like they were meandering along a calm, tree-shaded river in a small boat. It was tranquil and relaxing, and he felt the need to put an oar into the water to steer the conversation.
“A lovely evening, My Dear. The food was amazing and so are you.”
Her smile was hidden behind the goblet as she sipped her wine. She set the glass down and daubed her lips with the napkin.
“I want this meal to be special, Darling. Are we finished?”
Schloss looked down at his empty plate and decided the meal was complete.
“I am finished with the meal. Why do I suspect the evening is just beginning?”
“Because you are a dear man, and you read me all too well.”
She picked up the carafe and added more of the Prosecco to her glass. She leaned over and refilled his as well. She stood holding the glass in one hand and took his in the other.
“Come. We must talk.”
“I must confess, Gisela, that this is mysterious. What is so important that you arrange all of this?”
She displayed the smile that always caused him to melt inside.
She led him into the sitting room, and he wondered in the metaphorical sense where she was heading. She took the goblet from his hand and set both the wine glasses on the coffee table. They sat together. She sat close and intertwined her hand in his. He turned to gaze into her face, and the gaze turned into a lingering kiss. Over the few years he had known the woman, he had grown closer to her than he had any other person. He remembered a Biblical reference to one flesh and decided that was as good a description as any.
“What was it we needed to discuss, Gisela?”
“I visited Dr. Hofmann today and he gave me some news that you should hear.”
Dr. Anton Hofmann was one of the good Nazis if there were such a thing. He was an avid nationalist but dismissed the eugenics espoused by the leadership as rubbish. It was a wonder he had survived for so long in the regimented Reich. The fact that Gisela had felt the need to visit the doctor frightened him, however.
“Is something wrong?” he asked quickly, and he felt his throat constrict.
She laid her other hand atop the one that clasped his and laughed softly in her lilting way.
“No, no, My Darling. He confirmed that I am with child. We will have a baby next April. I wanted to surprise you.”
Schloss reviewed the evening and understood how Gisela had led him to this point and why he had not seen it. He was vastly surprised. He stared at her as her eyes danced in laughter.
“Oh, Hennie, I don’t think I have ever seen you at a loss for words like this. I so looked forward to seeing your reaction.”
He felt the rueful grin creep across his face. “I would say you certainly succeeded in surprising me, Schatzi. This is wonderful news, and you have made me very happy. To have a child with you has been one of my great desires.”