by Wagher, Ward
§ § §
October 13, 1943; 8 AM
The White House
Washington, DC, USA
“Can someone please tell me what is going on in Germany?” Harry Truman demanded.
Cordell Hull and William Donovan sat across from the president in the oval office. The State Department and the OSS had received urgent communiqués from their sources in Europe about the bombing in Cologne. Information was scant, and even the German press was scurrying around in panic.
“There is little information at this point, Mr. President,” Donovan said. “We know that Schloss was meeting the Queen in Cologne for a summit. Judging from the reaction over there, whoever planted the bomb was targeting one or all of the people at the summit. A bunch of people got killed at the hotel, but we have no information on the major players.”
“That is about as much as we have,” Hull said. “It’s going to be bad enough if they managed to kill Schloss. If they got the Queen as well, things are going to become unpredictable.”
Truman raised an eyebrow. “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one, Cordell. What are your minions in Foggy Bottom suggesting our official reaction should be?”
Hull smiled. “To quote my friend Colonel Donovan, my minions are scurrying around in panic. This is not the way the diplomatic game is played, and they don’t know what to do. Frankly, I don’t like it either, Mr. President. But I have given up trying to order the world according to my desires.”
“That saves a lot of frustration, I suppose,” Donovan commented.
The president laughed out loud and eased the tension slightly. “We have a bad situation over there, gentlemen, and I want both of you to stay on top of it. My main concern right now is events that may impact the conduct of the war against the Japanese. We probably ought to be praying the Queen is alive.”
“We will find out what we can and get it to you as soon as possible,” Hull said.
Truman stood up, indicating the meeting was at a close. “Thank you for coming in this morning, gentlemen. Please call as soon as you have further information. I expect we will need to meet again as soon as we find out more.”
He walked them to the door and stood watching them leave. His secretary left her desk and handed him a briefing book. He made his way to the cabinet room where the Joint Chiefs of Staff awaited. He sighed to himself as he walked the wide hallways of the White House. It was going to be a long day.
§ § §
October 13, 1943; 8 AM
Cologne, Germany
“Thank you for your quick-thinking last night, Colin,” Queen Margaret said.
“I was merely doing what needed to be done, Ma’am.”
The Queen was lying in a hospital bed with her leg elevated and encased in plaster.
Marty remained disheveled and dirty from the previous night’s bombing. He had not left her side since the incident. Rainer and Wessel had provided a heavy police guard around the hospital and the Queen’s room. Replacement security people from England had arrived that morning to take over the primary duties of guarding the monarch. Still, Wessel was not comfortable with taking the German police guards away.
“Perhaps you should go get cleaned up and lie down for a while,” the Queen suggested.
“I should be here in case you need anything, Your Majesty.”
“We have released a statement to the press, and that is all I need from you at this point.” She looked at the security guard standing just inside the door of the room. “Captain…”
“Bragdon, Your Majesty,” the plainclothesman replied.
“Thank you, Captain Bragdon. Please make arrangements for a place for Mr. Marty to get cleaned up and lie down for a while. He has been up all night.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
He turned and stepped out into the hallway. Another plainclothes security guard stepped into the room and eased the door shut.
“Now, do you have any more news concerning the bombing, Colin?”
“Yes, Ma’am. There were forty-two deaths in the bombing. The Reich Chancellor and his wife survived with minor injuries. The German foreign minister also survived and is in the hospital. His wife perished. Of course, you know about Mr. Eden’s death. None of our security people in the building survived.”
Margaret shook her head slowly. “What about Mr. Philby?”
“He was not in the building at the time of the bombing.”
“I know that, Colin. I saw him leave.”
“No one has been able to locate him so far. Herr Rainer has people looking for him. Rainer followed him from the hotel, but returned when he heard the explosion.”
“I wonder if our Mr. Philby is something much more than he claims,” the Queen pondered.
“To be honest, Ma’am, I did not like him much. But to think he was involved in something like this is just monstrous.”
“I think, perhaps, he needs to be detained. That would either be by the Germans or our people. When you leave, Colin, please inform them of this.”
“Is that a suggestion that our private audience has concluded?” Marty asked with a smile.
“No, Colin, I’m giving you an order. Get out of here and get some rest before you fall over on your feet. You’re already staggering.”
“Very well, Your Majesty.” Colin Marty turned and walked unsteadily to the door.
She sighed as he left the room. No one in her service was as dedicated to her well-being as Colin Marty. It was unfortunate that he was happily married. She thought he would make a wonderful consort to the Queen.
Karl Rainer and Misty Simpson stood next to Schloss’s hospital bed. The Reich Chancellor’s head was wrapped in a turban-like bandage. When he had gotten up to visit the toilet, he saw himself in the mirror and laughed. He was somber now as he talked to Rainer.
“You have been to see Peter?”
“Yes, Herr Schloss.”
Schloss gazed at him for a moment. “Does Peter know about Renate?”
Rainer swallowed. “I had to tell him, Herr Schloss. It was difficult.”
Schloss shook his head slightly and struggled to keep his own emotions under control. “I am joyful that Gisela was not injured, Karl, and I am delighted Fräulein Simpson survived. But I feel so guilty about Renate.” And his voice broke.
Rainer took a deep breath. “You should not blame yourself, Herr Schloss. This was my fault. We should have checked the hotel more thoroughly.”
“Are we going to argue again about whose fault this was? We don’t even know who it was.”
“We have two choices,” Rainer stated. “Either Churchill had a hand in it, or Stalin sent some operatives in.”
“It was Stalin.”
“But we don’t know that.”
“Take my word for it,” Schloss stated firmly. “It was Stalin.”
Rainer looked perplexed. “How can you know that?”
“Have you read Philby’s newspaper articles?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean…”
Schloss interrupted him. “It means that Philby is working for the Russians. Plus, I don’t think Churchill has the reach, anymore, to do something like this. And I don’t think he would consider regicide.”
Schloss turned his head to look out the window. It was another bright clear day, which was unusual this time of year. Misty stood silent.
“I don’t mean to push you, Karl. You have an investigation to conduct. I was simply giving you my personal opinion.”
“Of course, Herr Reich Chancellor.”
Rainer turned as the door to the room opened, and Gisela entered, being pushed in a wheelchair. Misty rushed over to greet her.
“Were you injured, Frau Schloss?”
“No, Misty,” Gisela smiled. “And must I remind you to call me Gisela.”
“Have you been making him rest, Karl?”
Schloss felt like he was melting when he heard her voice. “No, Schatzi, I have been tormenting Karl, as usual.”
&nb
sp; “I thought as much,” she said. “Karl, if you would give me some time with my husband, please?”
Rainer clicked his heels together. “Of course, Frau Schloss. And I have matters to attend to.”
After he and Misty left, Gisela reached out to take Schloss’s hand. “We had a close call, Darling.”
“I do not think I could have survived if you had been killed in the bombing,” he said. “It is bad enough to lose Renate. I don’t know what Peter is going to do.”
“I was just in to see him. It was after Karl left. He was on the phone with his secretary demanding the day’s paperwork be sent from Berlin for him to review.”
“I don’t believe that losing himself in his work will help,” Schloss said. “We need to be there for him.”
“At least he has Gratia.”
“But, I can’t imagine him trying to raise her by himself.”
She squeezed his hand. “We will be there with him, Hennie. Renate was my friend.”
She bowed her head and wept. Schloss felt tears streaming down his face. His sister was his lifelong friend, even though he had only known her for a little over two years. The hole that she left hurt, and it hurt badly.
“We did have some good news today,” he said, trying to change the subject.
“What is that, Hennie?” she asked quietly.
“I had a message from Guderian. The Russians tried to cross the Oder River in force early this morning. The action failed. Not only that, but it appears the Luftwaffe bombed the attacking force into oblivion. The new jellied gasoline bombs the Americans shared with us was what turned the offensive. Guderian thinks that they have finally outrun their supply lines. He is making plans to go back on the offensive.”
“That is good news,” she said, “but it is still a sad, sad day.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
October 18, 1943; 10 AM
Queen’s Office
Buckingham Palace
London, England, UK
Margaret Windsor could not get comfortable. Between the straight-backed chair and the Ottoman on which her leg rested, she was unable to find a position that did not hurt her back, or her leg or her bum. Her leg itched under the cast, where she could not reach. Besides, it was undignified. She forced her mind to the meeting at hand and greeted her guests.
In addition to Colin Marty, whom she kept close, Prime Minister Clement Attlee was in the room looking distinctly uncomfortable.
“So, we have confirmed that Kim Philby has been working for the Russians,” she stated.
“Stewart Menzies was horrified and embarrassed,” Attlee said. “Once his people began digging through his background, it became apparent. It was a major failure on our part.”
“I don’t believe we ought to be harsh on anyone about this,” the Queen said. “It was so obvious we all should have seen it. I had to apologize to Herr Schloss, once again, for allowing an act of murder to be directed against him. Will we be able to have him executed?”
“Oh, I think so, Your Majesty. Once the interview began, he started talking and could not stop. He did not realize what the Russians had planned. He was horrified by the bombing. I believe you can say he is a broken man.”
“I do not wish to be indelicate, but he will soon have a broken neck. He is a traitor of the first order, and deserves to die.”
Marty suppressed a smile. Margaret was one of those people who were often indelicate without seeming to realize it. Although the United Kingdom was at peace with the Soviet Union, Philby had been feeding secret and confidential information to them for at least the previous decade, and Stalin had used it against Britain.
“And we must move forward, Your Majesty,” Attlee said.
The Queen sighed. “Yes, I suppose we should get down to business. Colin, can you show our guests in, please?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
He walked over to the door and opened it. “Come in, please, gentlemen.”
Edward Wood, Lord Halifax, walked in accompanied by Alexander Cadogan, the permanent Undersecretary for Foreign Affairs. All three looked uncomfortable, although for differing reasons.
“Have a seat, gentlemen,” the Queen said. “We are informal here. I would get up to greet you, but as you can see, I am indisposed at the moment.”
Wood nodded. “Permit me to say, Your Majesty, how delighted we are that you survived that unfortunate event in Cologne.”
“Thank you, Lord Halifax. I am more fortunate than the forty-two souls that did not survive the bombing. In many ways, we have a dreadful mess to clean up. First of all, let me thank you for agreeing to resume your role as foreign minister. I know you preferred a less active role in the government.”
“I could hardly refuse a royal request, Your Majesty. I am curious, though. Exactly how hard did you have to twist Clement’s arm to ask me to join the cabinet.”
Margaret laughed with her harsh cawing. “I don’t think I put his shoulder out of joint.”
“Not quite,” Attlee said.
Everyone chuckled, and then Margaret continued. “And Mr. Cadogan, you have served well as one of the foreign office mandarins. I appreciate your coming in today. I want to make sure everyone understands our policy moving forward.”
Cadigan nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
“The Soviet ambassador arrived early, about an hour ago. I thought it would be helpful to keep him waiting.”
“It is clear we have reasons to be very unhappy with the Soviets,” Wood said. “I have not been entirely happy with our rapprochement with the Germans, but I understand why you did it. And I support you in this. The question is to what extent do we want to rap their knuckles over this affair.”
“I have looked at the options,” Margaret said. “I do not propose we go to war over this.”
“That still leaves a lot of territory, Your Majesty,” Attlee stated. “You are making me nervous.”
She gave the group an evil grin. “What I am initiating is a fundamental change in British foreign policy. We obviously cannot go to war with the Soviets. We have our hands full in the far east. We will remain officially neutral in European affairs; however, this will now tilt towards Germany. We are also going to announce our findings on the bombing publicly and condemn Stalin’s part in it. I want to isolate the Soviet Union as a pariah. It is something we should have done to Hitler, and we see the results of that misjudgment.”
Cadigan was the first to recognize where the Queen was going. “Then, you selected the option to break diplomatic relations with them, Your Majesty?”
She nodded. “Once again, I will lead the meeting and assume responsibility for these actions. If things go badly, then the historians and the people can blame me for it, and rightly so. But I will give the directive, and I expect loyal support from the government.”
The men in the room murmured, “Of course, Your Majesty.”
They all looked frightened. However, the Queen looked angry, incandescently angry. “The Soviet Union has put us in a terrible position, and they must understand there will be consequences for their actions. Colin, ask the Soviet ambassador to come in, please.”
§ § §
October 18, 1943; 4 PM
Reich Chancellor’s Office
Reich Chancellery
Berlin, Germany
Heinrich Schloss stood looking out the window into a dark winter’s afternoon when Joachim Ribbentrop arrived in his office. He walked to the center of the office and stood looking uncertainly at the Reich Chancellor.
“The commerce minister is here, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Willem Kirche said.
Schloss turned and gazed at Ribbentrop. The commerce minister thought that Schloss had aged ten years since he had last seen him.
“Please, have a seat, Joachim. Would you like some coffee?”
“That would be very nice, thank you,” Ribbentrop said as he eased into the chair.
Kirche quietly left the room, Ribbentrop supposed, to get the coffee.
>
“It looks as though you had a very successful trip to America,” Schloss said. “That you are invited to the White House twice says much about the opinion the Americans hold of us.”
It seemed to Ribbentrop as though Schloss’s voice was coming out of a robot’s body. Or perhaps, he was an actor that did not know the character well.
“I was very pleased with the results of the trip myself, Herr Schloss. I believe there are opportunities for a great deal of trade between our nations. They seemed delighted with the opportunity to purchase our ships and U-boats. The president directed the release of a stock of critical war materials from their reserves. It was not a trivial amount.”
Schloss nodded. “I noted that in your report. I am pleased about that. With our recent victory at the Oder River, I have hopes that we can turn the corner on this thing.”
“I stopped by the foreign ministry this afternoon to see if there was anything I might be of assistance for,” he said hesitantly. “A long message from the Queen came in, and everyone thought you needed to see it.”
Ribbentrop reached into his coat and pulled an envelope from an inner pocket and slid it across the desk to Schloss.
“Thank you for bringing this, Joachim. I appreciate you stopping by the Foreign Ministry. I will issue a memorandum appointing you as acting Foreign Minister until Peter can resume his duties.”
Ribbentrop internally sighed in relief. One did not tangle with Heinrich Schloss casually, and he had worried about overstepping his authority. Schloss used a letter opener to open the envelope and pulled out a single piece of foolscap. He carefully read through the letter, and his eyebrows raised as he pursed his lips and whistled.
“Were you privy to the contents of this letter, Joachim?”
“Yes, Herr Schloss. It is a remarkable turn of events.”
“Not just breaking off diplomatic relations, but giving them only twenty-four hours to clear out of the country.” He shook his head. “I don’t think there will be any misunderstandings in Moscow. The Queen just sent them a blunt message.”