* * *
On returning to his desk at the Presidio, Luke decided to take a few moments to catch up on news and events. First, he was delighted to see that the United States had formally declared war on Imperial Germany. Apparently there was some thought that an official declaration would not be made because of possible repercussions, but transcripts and recordings of the last meeting between President Lansing and the German ambassador had been so inflammatory that anything else was impossible.
The attacks on California and Texas, coupled with the German ambassador’s arrogance had galvanized the nation. Reports said President Lansing was cheered by Congress and that the vote in both houses was unanimous. Even the diehard pacifists couldn’t deny that the United States had been invaded, and that the invader, Imperial Germany, had declared its intention to siphon off four states from the Union.
A confidential report said that California wasn’t quite as cut off from the rest of the world as was first feared. Trans-Atlantic cables ran from San Francisco and Seattle to points west and then around the globe where they wound up in Washington D.C. It took several hours to get there, but it was far better than several weeks, or even months. Better, the telegraph and rail lines from Seattle eastward had not been destroyed. Luke and the rest of the army’s intelligence community wondered why not and concluded that a spring thaw might find a group of German saboteurs where they’d frozen to death when a sudden storm hit them. So much for German infallibility and omnipotence, he thought. Luke did not feel sympathetic to the thought of a bunch of frozen Krauts.
National Guard troops from Washington and Oregon were moving into the northern passes to rebuild the telegraph lines and protect the one open railroad from a second German try. The destroyed rail lines would not be rebuilt before spring—if the Germans let them, that is. Colonel Nolan felt the Germans would garrison the passes and glumly said that only a few men would be required to hold them against any American advance.
National Guard troops in California had been activated by the Republican Governor of California, William Dennison Stephens. It had been rumored that Stephens was going to order the poorly trained and inexperienced guard to attack the Germans, but prompt action by President Lansing had put an end to that suicidal nonsense. The California National Guard was now under the control of General Liggett.
There was fighting in Texas between Mexican Army units and Texas National Guard, but that was not Luke’s immediate concern.
“Welcome home, soldier.”
Luke looked up and saw the friendly grin of Major Ike Eisenhower. “Good to be back and gather my wits,” Luke said, “but I’d much rather be down south gathering info than reading about it.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Ike said, pulling up a chair. “Here I am, supposed to be making plans and I have nothing to plan with. I even envy Patton. He gets to ride around and actually try to accomplish something, even though it might result in his getting his butt kicked every now and then.”
“So what’s going to happen, Major?”
“Nothing that isn’t all that obvious,” Ike said. “The Krauts will very shortly take San Diego, if it hasn’t fallen already. Then they will move north and into the Central Valley where it’ll be easier for them to march. They will then keep on north until they can turn west and fall on San Francisco. Before that, however, I’m certain one prong will continue to move along the coast and take Los Angeles, which will give them a second major port.”
“San Francisco is their goal, isn’t it?”
“In my opinion, yes,” Ike said. “Does Colonel Nolan agree?”
“Yes, and again, it’s fairly obvious.”
“At least General Liggett and Admiral Sims have agreed to try to agree on strategy,” said Eisenhower, “Although it would be nice to have one overall commander.”
Luke laughed. “Not in this man’s army and navy.”
“Speaking of navies, Luke, you are aware that three of our new battleships did make it to Seattle, along with a handful of cruisers and destroyers, and maybe a few submarines before the Germans hit Mare Island and destroyed the three older battleships. Apparently our surviving ships were chased by the German fleet which then decided not to enter Puget Sound because so much of it is British and they don’t want to antagonize the Brits, at least not yet. Since the Krauts destroyed our coastal forts in Puget Sound as well here, there wouldn’t have been much we could have done to stop them. Sims told Liggett we actually have what he called a ‘fleet in being’ that we can use to tie down German naval units.”
“Wonderful,” Luke said. “I wish we had an army in fact instead of a fleet in being.”
He was about to say something further when an enormous explosion struck the building and sent both of them to the floor. Smoke and dust filled the room. They scrambled to their feet, astonished to be unhurt, and ran outside through where part of the wall had collapsed.
Another explosion rocked them as a second shell impacted near them. They hit the ground again as more debris fell on them. In the nearby city proper, people were running and screaming. Several civilians, including women and children, lay in bloody heaps, some unmoving.
Ike and Luke ran to where they could see out into the ocean. Off in the distance, silhouetted gray shapes lay just under the horizon. The German fleet had returned to San Francisco. Lights twinkled from them, almost merrily, but each twinkle was a naval gun firing and a shell being hurled on its way. The German Navy was bombarding the city.
After a few more minutes, the bombardment stopped and the Germans steamed off, headed south. There had been no return fire from the American coastal forts.
“Son of a bitch!” Luke said. “There was no reason to bombard a helpless city!”
Ike shook his head. “Just like there wasn’t any reason for the Germans to bombard and burn cities in Belgium in 1914.”
Horse drawn ambulances had begun to pick up the dead and injured, and fire engines were fighting the fires that the shelling had begun. Ironically, the earthquake and fire of 1906 had resulted in San Francisco having very efficient emergency services. Luke thought this would not be the last time they were needed.
* * *
Kirsten felt very nervous riding into Raleigh. She was in a horse-drawn carriage with an equally nervous Maria at her side. Kirsten was dressed demurely in a long skirt, wore no makeup, and her clothes were intentionally baggy and worn. Of course, as a result of the Germans burning her home, her choices of clothing were few. She didn’t think she’d have any difficulties with the Germans in the town, but she was not taking any chances. What happened to Ella might have been a fluke caused by Leonard shooting at the Germans, but she would take no chances.
She was in town for several important reasons. First, the group in the hills needed supplies and she hoped the local stores still had some. That and she wanted some news as to what was going on. Up in the hills it was like they were on another planet.
Raleigh was depressing. Many of the buildings were damaged or destroyed and the smell of charred wood was still in the air. Worse, there were many German and Mexican soldiers in the little town. Some of them appeared to be working, while the others just lounged. On the plus side, they didn’t give them more than a glance. Two dowdy women in a carriage pulled by a miserable-looking horse were not a threat, and it did appear that there was discipline in the town.
She pulled up at the general store where she normally shopped. It was owned by an Italian couple, the Russos. Joseph Russo was behind the counter and greeted her warmly, but with a hint of nervousness. Kirsten attributed it to the fact that a couple of German soldiers were also shopping. She wondered if they would pay or just requisition what they needed.
She pulled out a list and handed it to Joseph. He blinked and took a deep breath. “Do you have authorization, Miss Biel?”
Now it was her turn to be surprised. “What do you mean?”
He was about to answer when Roy Olson appeared at her side. “What he means, Kirsten, is
that things have changed in the last couple of days. The German commander in the area, a Captain Steiner, has instituted rationing since our food supplies are rather limited and likely to stay that way for a while.”
Kirsten thought it made a kind of painful sense. “I see. Now, how do I get such a permit?”
Olson smiled. “Why, you get to talk to me. Steiner appointed me administrator of the area and liaison with the occupying forces.” He guided her by the arm and into the back of the store where he had established an office. She noticed that the rear of the store was filled with supplies. She wondered if Olson rationed himself.
“Steiner wants to make sure that only people who really need food get it,” Roy said. “He would be much happier if everyone came down from the hills and didn’t sit up there with rifles and pose a potential threat to his men. He will not tolerate any of his soldiers being shot, which would result in tragedy. Like what happened at your home.”
“Are you saying we won’t be allowed to defend ourselves?” she bristled.
Olson’s face hardened. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Times have changed and we have to change with them. We are no longer in charge and we’d better get used to it.” He gestured to a window. “See those boys out there digging?”
She hadn’t really noticed them before, she realized to her chagrin. “Yes.”
“Like I said, this Steiner fellow, who’s really quite pleasant as long as you don’t cross him, has made a rule and it’s probably the same way all over German-occupied California. All able-bodied men will work two days a week helping expand the rail siding here to accommodate more trains. So, if you’ve got men up in the hills with you, you’d better get them down here and registered so the Germans don’t think they’re guerillas. They shoot guerillas, Kirsten, and they don’t ask questions.”
She found a chair and sat. “So you’re collaborating with the Germans.”
“Of necessity, yes. Steiner drafted me to be the administrator and I did not have much choice. If I hadn’t taken the position, I’d be outside digging ditches myself.”
She looked at him coldly. “And how vehemently did you argue?”
“Kirsten, I have always thought of you as a reasonable, intelligent woman, so let me tell you a few things. This isn’t the United States of America anymore. The Germans are here and, according to what I’ve learned, they aren’t leaving. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. California has become a territory of Imperial Germany and will be ruled from Berlin. We no longer live in a democracy; we now live in an autocratic empire and under military rule. Kaiser Wilhelm II is our leader, not Robert Lansing. We don’t have to like it, but that is our new world, and yes, I am going to collaborate. It has taken me thirty years to build up what I have and I’m not going to lose it because of any political change. The United States can’t even decide who’s going to be president, much less defend us. The U.S. just went through three presidents in one week. Washington’s just like the Roman Empire or a debauched Papacy.”
He laughed harshly. “And have you seen the American Army? Of course not. It doesn’t exist. On the other hand, I’ve seen thousands of German soldiers come through and this isn’t even the main part of their invasion. Tomorrow, a squadron of German warplanes will land here to add to their strength.
“Someday the United States may again govern here, Kirsten, but I doubt that it will be in our lifetimes or those of our great-grandchildren.”
For one of the few times in her life, Kirsten was speechless. The enormity of the events and changes was overwhelming.
“So you see,” Olson continued, “it is in everyone’s best interest to cooperate with the Germans. Or would you rather that California be part of Carranza’s Mexico? Would you want your family to be hurt anymore then they have? Poor Leonard was brave but foolish and what happened to Ella was deeply regrettable. And, yes, I do know what happened to her. Steiner told me. He assured me that the soldiers in question have been disciplined.”
Kirsten stood up. She very much doubted that anything had happened to the Germans who’d raped Ella, but this was not the time for such a debate.
“You’ve given me much food for thought, Roy. But first, how do I get food for the women and children in the hills?” she asked, intentionally leaving out the fact that men were up there as well.
He smiled. “Why I give you permits, of course.” He pulled some forms out of his desk and filled them out. “Here. Give these to Joseph out front and he’ll be glad to fill your orders.”
He guided her out of his office, letting his hand rest on her shoulder and drop down to her waist. She shuddered but kept her feelings under control. Yes, things had changed and she would have to figure out just how much.
And what in God’s name could she do about it?
* * *
Secretary of State Charles Evans Hughes looked coldly at the man before him. “I only have a few minutes,” he said pointedly.
Giovanni Golitti had been premier of Italy until a corruption scandal had resulted in his ouster. He was confident he would rise again. Corruption is so quickly forgotten, especially in the riotous politics of the still very new nation of Italy.
“I had hoped to see President Lansing,” he said through a very nervous translator.
Hughes remained stern. “You are a minister without portfolio from a nation that is allied with our enemy, Germany. There are those who feel I should not waste my time by talking with you at all.”
Golitti matched the glare. He’d been weaned in the rough and tumble arena of Italian politics. “Then you’d be making a huge mistake. Things are not always as they seem and there are many people in my country and other countries who are concerned about Germany’s preeminence in the world and who would wish to do something about it.”
“Go on,” Hughes said, his curiosity piqued.
“Indeed. Germany’s successes have led to even greater arrogance on their part, and that has been followed by their insistence on preferences in trade and other matters that simply are not in Italy’s best interests. In short, it would not bother Italy and several other nations if Germany were cut down a little bit, perhaps even more than little bit.”
“How would you accomplish that?”
“Mr. Hughes, you have a wonderfully large nation with a potential for military greatness. Sadly, you lack everything needed to fulfill that potential. I—we—propose to remedy that.”
Hughes smiled, “We?”
“A number of nations, including France and England obviously, have been contacted by my government and are more than willing to help you get the equipment you lack. Others include Spain, Portugal, Sweden, and, of course, my beloved Italy.”
Hughes smile widened. “May I ask if you and your associate nations have any specific plans to assist us?”
“Your crying need is for artillery, machine guns, and ammunition. While we would not be so foolish as to send hundreds of planes, thousands of French 75mm cannon, and tens of thousands of machine guns to you and try to hide that fact from the Germans, a thought did occur to us. You are the greatest manufacturing nation in the world, so we will send you the dies and other equipment necessary to begin the immediate manufacture of those items.”
“And when will that occur?”
“It has already begun, Mr. Secretary. In anticipation of your concurrence, equipment is on trains headed for Lisbon. They are crated as farm machinery—which reminds me, the British will be sending you some special farming equipment they’ve been working on for the last several years and which is, I understand, quite secret.”
“Excellent,” Hughes beamed.
Golliti continued. “Further, it is understood that you need bases for your warships if they are to go on commerce raiding cruises. Since you are so outnumbered I don’t think your navy will be looking for fleet actions, at least not yet. We will look the other way if your ships use the Azores or Canary Islands as bases, just as your navy is planning to use Catalina Island off California.”
&n
bsp; Hughes blinked. How did the little Italian learn about the plans for Catalina? “And if our ships were discovered,” Hughes said, “I am certain that the nation whose resources we were using would deny complicity, demand both our immediate withdrawal and an apology from us, which we would quickly and sincerely give.”
Golitti laughed, “Of course.”
Hughes stood and smiled broadly. “Would you like to meet President Lansing?”
CHAPTER 6
Despite not being particularly tall, Major General John J. Pershing was a totally dominating person. Dressed in a uniform that looked like it had been painted on him and without a button or a crease out of place, he seemed to epitomize what a general should look like. He was sixty and looked at least a decade younger.
Pershing was also the only American general with significant experience in leading anything resembling a large body of men. Four years earlier, he’d taken an ad hoc division into Mexico in search of bandits who’d attacked towns and ranches in Texas. He’d fought several battles against the bandits and, later, against Mexican regulars when the Mexican government finally decided it didn’t like an American army marching around in their nation.
He was often referred to as “Black Jack” Pershing, because he’d commanded Negro troops against the Apaches and, later, in the attack on what became popularly known as San Juan Hill in the Spanish American War. There he’d met and impressed a young Theodore Roosevelt. Many Southern officers disparagingly referred to him as Nigger Jack instead of Black Jack.
Pershing was a widower. His wife and two of his three children had been killed in a fire. He was not the prude his stern appearance would seem to indicate. Indeed, after the loss of his wife, he had consoled himself by having several affairs, including one with the sister of one of his favorite young officers, George Patton.
1920: America's Great War Page 10