Resolute Nazi

by Wagher, Ward

  The deck crews jockeyed the aircraft around on the flight deck as the pilots climbed up the wing root and dropped into the cockpit. The Intrepid had turned into the wind, and King could feel a sense of purpose in the ship as she moved to flank speed. The operations lamp turned green, and the deck crewman made eye contact with the pilot. He then looked towards the bow to study the movement of the ship. As the bow descended into a trough, the deck crewman leaned down and touched the deck with his hand.

  The pilot had brought the throttle to military power and released the brakes. King held his breath as the Wildcat trundled down the deck and staggered into the air. The aircraft wobbled a bit as the pilot laboriously hand-cranked the landing gear into flight position. The second Wildcat then struggled into the air, and the rest began to follow. King remained at the window until the entire group had taken off.

  Next to go up was a pair of Grumman TBF Avengers that were configured for reconnaissance. They were tasked with fighting their way through the weather to locate the Japanese task force. The heavy cloud cover and rain squalls made the job nearly impossible. King thought he had an opportunity, though. If they could catch the Japs before they were able to refuel and rearm their planes, they had a chance at giving them another black eye. There was a real risk to the allied task force, too.

  One of the ratings handed King the phone. It’s Captain Duncan, Sir.”

  “Yes, Don?”

  “The fighters are all off, Admiral. The Avengers will be off shortly.”

  “Very good, Captain. I watched the takeoff. For green pilots, they did well. I was afraid some of them would go into the drink.”

  “Believe me, Admiral, that was at the forefront of my mind. I am very relieved.”

  “I just hope they can catch the Japs.”

  “You and me, both, Sir. I will keep you posted as we hear things.”

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  King turned to the rating. “If Lieutenant Plotczyk calls, I will be in my sea cabin.”

  “Aye, aye, Sir.”

  § § §

  September 11, 1943; 4 PM

  Mosul, Iraq

  “How long do you think we can keep doing this before we get caught?” Corporal Uwe Baumann asked.

  “It hasn’t happened so far,” Sergeant Hans Friedmann replied.

  They had just climbed down from the train when it halted in Mosul, Iraq. The two soldiers looked around at the dusty city. Even though it was early fall, Mosul was oppressively hot.

  “I think I liked playing in the snow better, Sarge.”

  “We likely will not see much snow on this trip. At least it will be harder for the Russians to follow our tracks.”

  “It’ll be harder once we give our little gifts to the Russians.”

  “And here comes our control, looks like.”

  “Sergeant Friedmann?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I am Major Gerhard Geddes. Do you have your luggage?

  “Yes, we do,” Friedmann replied. “Do you have any credentials?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  The slim, dapper man in civilian clothes handed his ID to Friedmann.

  “Fine. What are your plans for tonight?”

  “I have rooms secured for you to spend the night. We will have dinner and then make it an early evening. I would like to be on the road by four in the morning. We will travel to Germi, Persia. From there you two will make your way into Azerbaijan. I will wait for thirty days in Germi for your return. If you are not back by then, I will return to Mosul.”

  “Very well, Herr Major. We can leave the train station at any time.”

  Friedmann and Baumann picked up their bags and followed Geddes out of the train station to where a 1938 Ford was parked by the curb. Geddes opened the trunk, and the other two tossed their bags in.

  “One of you should ride in the front.”

  Friedmann nodded and headed towards the front passenger door. Baumann slammed the trunk lid and walked around to the back door. Geddes got behind the wheel. He drove for about 10 minutes and stopped in front of a nondescript house.

  “Is this it?” Friedmann asked.

  “Yes, I managed to get funding to purchase it. The building is solid and clean. And most of the people around here pay no attention to it.”

  A pair of wooden gates opened. “Ah, I see he was watching for us.”

  Geddes put the car in first gear and drove through the open gates. Friedman glanced around the small courtyard. Geddes turned off the engine.

  They stepped out of the car, where the gatekeeper met them.

  “This is Sergeant Stolp. He has no need to know your names.”

  The older man nodded in greeting. “Welcome to Mosul, such as it is. If you will allow me, I will carry your bags to the guest rooms. Dinner can be anytime you desire, Herr Major.”

  “Thanks, Sergeant. Let’s get these two settled in, and then I will bring them to the dining room.”

  The two guest rooms were small and neat. A single narrow bed was in each. The beds were made up with linens, and a pillow. A blanket lay folded at the end of the bed. Gerdes showed them where the bathroom was located and then led them through the house to the dining room.

  “Be seated, please. Sergeant Stolp will serve us and then leave the room. We will talk then.”

  The sergeant placed a platter of mutton strips on the table. They were cooked in oil along with onions and peppers. He returned and set a large bowl of rice on the table. He poured wine into three glasses and then retreated from the room.

  Gerdes stood and walked over to the door to ensure it was closed.

  “Sergeant Stolp has been with me for nearly twenty years, and I would trust him with my life. However, in this business, if you don’t compartmentalize, you risk having somebody drive an icepick into your ear. And that is something I wish to avoid.”

  “I understand, Herr Major,” Friedmann replied. “For myself, I have no desire to be tied to a chair and have someone pull my fingernails out.”

  “Just so. All I have heard is that I need to drive you to the border of Azerbaijan. Beyond that, I have no suppositions. I can assume that you have already spent time behind the lines.”

  “Correct. Uwe and I spent most of the late spring and summer in the Ukraine. I suspect our next mission will be difficult.”

  Geddes slid the platter close to Baumann. “Help yourself, Corporal. It may be the last good meal you get for a while.”

  “To summarize,” he continued, “I am to drive you two to Germi in Persia. That is relatively close to the border, so you can walk it if need be. I do want to give you a warning, however. The Russians come and go freely across the border into Persia. I am not sure what their game is, but we will want to avoid them, if at all possible.”

  “In your experience, is it easier to blend into the desert or forest?”

  “Oh, the forests are much easier. If you did not pack tan-colored clothes, we might want to delay a couple of days to have a couple of sets run up for you.”

  “What do the Russian soldiers wear around here, Herr Major?” Baumann asked.

  “Their desert uniforms are tan colored. The natives will wear tan robes or tan dungarees.”

  “I think we are ready, then,” Friedmann said. “Do you anticipate any difficulties crossing into Persia?”

  “Not really. People freely travel back and forth between Mosul and northern Persia. There is, perhaps, more threat from the bandits in the area. I plan to attach us to one of the caravans leaving tomorrow. It will take longer, but it is much safer.”

  Friedmann nodded. “This all sounds reasonable. And the food here is first-rate.”

  “I am probably spoiling you. The places we stop along the way are not nearly so good. Stolp has the touch, I think. Did you bring weapons with you?”

  “Just pistols. Tolkarevs.”

  “Souvenirs from the Ukraine?”

  “You might say that.”

  “You two must be very good if you avoi
ded capture for so long.”

  “We went in before the invasion and managed to slow things down a bit. Since we were there, we decided to keep putting sand in their gears until we got caught or the war ended.”

  “And you are here now.”

  Friedmann nodded. “We stumbled across General Model and his adjutant. They had escaped from the Russians, and we brought them across the lines.”

  “Are we going to stop the Russians, Sergeant?”

  “I don’t know. We have made a complete hash of their supply lines, and yet they keep coming. Sooner or later I think something must break in our favor. We held them for quite a while, but now they have broken through into the Polish plains. Rommel and Guderian are concerned.”

  “That is essentially my read,” Geddes said. “If you can stir up trouble in Azerbaijan, I think it may take some of the pressure off the Wehrmacht.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  The three men continued talking through the meal, and then Geddes excused himself. He wanted to check the car over and finish packing for the trip.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  September 11, 1943; 8 PM

  Schreiber Home

  Charlottenburg, Berlin, Germany

  “It was kind of you to send Frau Marsden over to prepare the dinner for us tonight, Hennie.”

  Renate paced the sitting room, carrying the baby. She had already learned the peculiar loping gait parents used to settle down fussy infants. And Gratia was fussy tonight.

  “I thought that since we were going to be over here, you could certainly use some help with the meal. I am well aware that Peter can scald water given the opportunity.”

  “Oh, I always keep him away from the kitchen,” Renate giggled. “He knows his place.”

  Peter shook his head as he sat on the sofa and sipped a cup of coffee.

  “You are looking weary, Peter,” Schloss said. “Something keeping you up at night.”

  “All right, Hennie,” Gisela said as she marched into the room. “Quit tormenting your brother-in-law. Of all people, you should know about being awake at night because of the babies.”

  Schloss nodded and smiled. Perhaps I was fortunate to miss that aspect of life. I will likely pay for that sin when our baby arrives.

  “Besides,” Peter said, “I naturally have more stamina than Hennie.”

  “And our heroic Karl stayed at the hospital with you all night, Peter. He had concerns about you.”

  “Naaah, he was just being noble.”

  “Will you stop?” Renate said sharply. “This job is hard enough without you two picking at each other.”

  Peter and Hennie smiled at one other.

  “Changing the subject,” Schloss said, “have we heard anything from Joachim?”

  “I am receiving daily reports from him through the embassy in Washington. He and Thomsen had a great meeting with the president. At least both their reports agreed on the substance of the conversation.”

  “I think Joachim is focused on developing commerce with the Americans. He seemed happy to leave the diplomacy to Thomsen.”

  Peter nodded. “That is true. However, he acquitted himself well in the meeting. The president arranged an introduction with the Canadians. Joachim hopes to get access to critical war materials from them.”

  “Good luck on that,” Schloss commented. “I think I will also have him talk to the South Africans. That country is a treasure house.”

  “More than just diamonds and gold?”

  “Much more.” Schloss sighed. “I don’t know what we would have done if the English were still maintaining their blockade.”

  “I understand why you were so adamant about not getting into a war with the Russians and the Americans. I don’t understand what Hitler was thinking.”

  Schloss ran his hand through his hair and brushed it back. “I don’t know, Peter. Judging from the people he had around him, I don’t think he was entirely sane. I mean, he was astute at surrounding himself with people who knew how to get things done. Even Goering was no fool, discounting his multiple bad attributes.”

  “I thought you were convinced they were all incompetent.”

  Frau Marsden slipped into the room with a fresh carafe of coffee. Schloss held up his cup.

  “Bless you, Frau Marsden.”

  Gisela fixed him with a glare. “That is your last cup for tonight, Hennie. I don’t want to lay in bed with you tossing and turning because you had too much coffee.”

  “Perish the thought.”

  “Why do I not believe that.”

  He smiled up at the flame-haired woman. “I am putty in your hands, Frau Schloss.”

  Gisela snorted at that, then walked over to Renate.

  “Why don’t you let me take her for a while. You need to sit down.”

  “I don’t think I would complain about that. Thank you, Gisela.”

  Renate walked over and collapsed on the sofa next to Peter. Gisela immediately shifted into mutti-mode and began pacing the room with the baby.

  Frau Marsden refilled Peter’s coffee cup. “It would do you two gentlemen some good to help the ladies occasionally. Taking care of an infant is more difficult than anything you are doing.”

  Schloss watched her leave the room and looked at Peter. Neither had a response.

  “What is the latest you have heard from the front?” Peter asked.

  “The Russian breakout was dangerous. Rommel just barely was able to contain it, but they are still pushing us back. Guderian thinks if we allow this to continue, they will eventually overextend themselves. We are putting a lot of pressure on their supply lines.”

  “I certainly hope he is right.”

  “As do I. Guderian thinks that in the worst case, we can stop them at the Oder River.”

  Peter studied Schloss for a few moments. “And what happens if they manage a bridgehead over the Oder?”

  “Then, my friend, we are in serious trouble.”

  Gisela paced past Schloss. “If they get across the Oder, how will we stop them, Hennie?”

  Schloss raised his palms upward. “I don’t think anyone knows. If that happens, we will have no choice but to meet them directly in battle, and the casualties will climb dramatically. Rommel and Guderian have done a marvelous job, so far, of preserving our armies. I fear we may be forced to throw everything we have into the maw of war.”

  “At least, we seem to be back on balance in the air war,” Peter said. “Joachim mentioned that Junkers is setting up a line to build the C model jet. Messerschmidt has their hands full with current production.”

  “The Junkers people have their new engine ready. Finally. After they had such a time with the prototypes, they did a complete redesign. It has a second turbine that spins a larger set of blades in the front. It pushes air past the engine to increase the overall power. It is more efficient, too.”

  “I think I heard about that. This was one of your suggestions, wasn’t it?”

  Schloss shrugged. “Sometimes, I just get these ideas.”

  “You are legendary with your suggestions, Hennie.”

  “The first time I make a bad call, the legends will disappear.”

  “You know,” Peter mused, “I wonder if the Russians have recovered the wreckage of any of the jets that got shot down or crashed.”

  “I certainly hope not. That has been a worry of the OKW and the Luftwaffe. The Luftwaffe command has instructed pilots to stay on our side of the line as much as possible. Of course, when the Fortresses are bombing the Russian supply lines, they must be protected. Sooner or later, the Russians will get their hands on something they can dissect.”

  Is Messerschmidt going to keep building the old model?”

  “For a while, anyway.” Schloss crossed his legs and took another sip of the coffee. “That’s very good. It much depends upon the current tempo of the air war. Once we are up to full production of the C model, Milch wants to convert the current factory to it.”

  “That makes sense, althou
gh we’ll lose half our production during the factory changeover. How are things going on the Arado bomber?”

  “I have not had a report on that for a couple of weeks. The Luftwaffe decided to use the new Junkers engine. It will improve the range considerably. I am not worried about the air war, Peter. Milch has got Speer working with him on increasing production of the tanks. He has done wonders.”

  “I am glad Goering put him to work,” Peter said. “After Hitler threw him out, I assumed his life expectancy was limited. Goering took a real risk by taking him into his organization.”

  “I have pretty much given up on trying to figure out what Hitler was thinking at any given time.”

  Peter glanced over to where Renate had fallen asleep, leaning against him on the sofa. He had a soft smile on his face.

  Gisela walked back over to Schloss, who stood up. The baby had buried her face in Gisela’s shoulder and was snuffling.

  “Hennie, perhaps you should take the children home and have Frau Marsden get them to bed. I will stay here tonight. Renate is exhausted.”

  “That is a fine idea, Gisela.” He kissed her on the cheek and walked to the hallway to begin his search for the children. Frau Marsden was marching them down the hall. They already had their coats and hats on, as did the old woman.

  I wish I knew how she does that. Sometimes she is really spooky.

  “As soon as you get your coat, Herr Schloss, we will be ready,” she said quietly.

  He decided she spoke with authority even when she was quiet.

  § § §

  September 11, 1943; 2 PM

  The White House

  Washington, DC, USA

  “I thought we were on a roll there,” Truman said. “What happened?”

  Frank Knox, the Secretary of the Navy, was delivering the bad news today.

  “The weather was bad. Admiral Forbes anticipated the attack and had everything put to sea. Ernie Rey found the Jap task force and decided to take the shot.”

  “And he was outnumbered?”