Accidental Nazi

by Ward Wagher

  She blushed, something noticeable with her creamy skin. “You are so sweet, Hennie.”

  He shrugged. “I don't know, Gisela. As I was sitting here, I was struck once again on how lucky I was to meet you.”

  Will you stop it? You don't need this!

  A tear crept along her cheek. “And you came to me just when I needed someone. I was so alone.”

  He slipped out of his chair and dropped to one knee next to her. “Hey. Hey. I did not mean to upset you.”

  “I am not upset, Hennie. I am just so happy today. Thank you again for being so sweet.”

  Now see what you've done, you scheisskopf. You will surely end up breaking the poor girl's heart.

  “This has been a lovely day for me as well,” he said. “Are you finished eating? I hear the woods calling to us.”

  She giggled as she stood up. “I have had plenty to eat. Let's go explore the woods.”

  Heinrich Schloss thought this was perhaps the most idyllic afternoon of his life. Walking the hiking paths hand in hand with the ravishing red-haired woman was soothing, relaxing, invigorating and all. Yet, he could not escape the inner voice which berated him for what he was doing. He wondered why. Was he being unfaithful to Trudy? She was as dead to him as Hannelore.

  “You seem to be pensive at times,” she said as the stepped back into the cabin.

  He took her hand and led her over to the love seat along one wall, where they sat down.

  “This has been the most pleasant day of my life,” he said. “I worry about the future.”

  “Can you change it?” she asked.

  He snorted. “I am certainly trying.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Do you really want to get into this, Hennie?

  “While it may not have been obvious, Herr Hitler was well on his way towards losing the war. He was setting some things in place that would have destroyed the Fatherland.”

  “How so?”

  “This vendetta against the Jews, for one thing.”

  “I have never been comfortable with that,” she said. “They are no different than any of us. And they are good Germans.”

  Careful. Careful.

  “Himmler wants to destroy them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He wants to murder them all.”

  She grasped both of his hands. “Tell me you are joking, Hennie.”

  “I wish I were.”

  “But you must stop him.”

  “I'm working on it.”

  She studied his face. He watched her eyes move back and forth as she looked as his features. He found it erotic.

  “There's more,” she stated.

  “We were getting ready to invade Russia,” he replied.

  “But that's insane. We have not beaten the English.”

  “Exactly. And the way things were shaping up, we would soon be at war with the Americans.”

  She hissed. “What were they thinking?”

  “Some of them are not entirely sane, for one thing.”

  “You are right, Darling. This would destroy Germany.”

  “That is what I fear. Can you imagine the Russians marching through Berlin? And the Americans and the British in the Ruhr? It would be the end of everything.”

  “It almost seems as though you can see the future,” she said. “Do you really think you can change it?”

  He felt her shiver as she sat next to him.

  “I do not have a choice. It's the only thing I can do and be honest with myself. Besides, I could not stand with those monsters and watch what they are doing to the Jews – and to the country.”

  Her hand squeezed his. “I am very frightened. It's Himmler, isn't it?”

  He nodded. “Mostly. But the others have never tried very hard to stop it. And they all seem to have enriched themselves at the expense of the Jews.”

  Including me, unfortunately. And I have no idea how I can fix that.

  “I will stand by you, my Darling,” she said.

  Telling her this was an act of insanity on your part, Heinrich. But I am glad I told her.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  July 6, 1941, 7 PM

  Schloss Residence, Berlin

  “When are you going to marry Frau Badhoff?” Frau Marsden asked.

  “Excuse me?” Schloss replied.

  “You surely cannot continue to regard her as a convenient way to satisfy your desires, Herr Schloss.”

  “I do not understand why you should think this is any business of yours, woman.”

  She stepped in close and began poking him in the chest with her index finger. “You are not considering her best interests, and you are not considering the interests of your children. You are thinking only of yourself, and I know you are a better man than that.”

  She had come into his bedroom after he had laid his suitcase onto the bed and begun unpacking. He turned back to the suitcase and pulled a pair of trousers out. He was looking for a way to gain some distance from the old lady, because she intimidated him. She snatched the pair of trousers out of his hands.

  “I will not allow you to avoid this discussion by making yourself busy,” she said. “This is something you need to face.”

  “You are not my mother, Frau Marsden.” He glanced around the room that was still unfamiliar to him. “If I should choose to have a friend to see occasionally...”

  She interrupted by stepping in close again. “A friend? I know you Nazis enjoy having entertainment in whatever town you happen to visit, but I had thought better of you. Did you not learn? You lived with your girlfriend for six months before you married her. And that was not everything you thought it would be, was it?”

  Schloss now thought frantically. Had he indeed lived with Hannelore before he married her? Would that have even been allowed in the culture of the time? He and Trudy had shared a small apartment in Berlin for six months and had drifted into a marriage simply because it was convenient. Surely the old lady could not be talking about that. How could she possibly know?

  “I see you do understand what I am talking about,” Frau Marsden said.

  She turned to the closet and pulled a hanger out. She continued speaking as she slipped the pants over the hanger. “People think such activity is harmless. But it sets expectations which cannot be met. You may not understand this, Herr Schloss, but you have been placed here to fulfill a critical role. I will not have you compromise your effectiveness simply to fulfill your physical appetites.”

  Schloss now went from being intimidated to truly frightened. “What are you saying?”

  “What am I saying?” She hung the trousers up in the closet and marched back over to him. “I am saying that the world does not revolve around Heinrich Schloss. I have watched you wrestle with your inner turmoil as you rose in the party. You agonized over what you did to Martin Bormann. You were consumed with guilt over the time you had to spend away from Hannelore, even when she became ill. And let's not even talk about the impact upon your children. You are a mature adult, Herr Schloss. You need to act the part.”

  At that point Schloss could only feel relief. He had been briefly convinced the old woman knew about his other world. But that wasn't what she had been talking about. Then he felt disappointment. There had been that brief thrill that here was someone he could share his fears with. Then he felt guilt over what he had been doing. Then this shifted to anger and resentment over her interference.

  “I do not feel the need to stand here and be lectured by you.” And he stalked out of the room.

  She snorted as she turned to continue unpacking his suitcase. Renate met Schloss in the hallway.

  “What was that all about?” she asked.

  “The woman feels somehow obligated to run my life. If she didn't make so much sense, I would have her out of here.”

  She cupped her hand on his cheek. “Poor Hennie. Would it help if I talked to her?”

  He reached up his hand and held it over hers as he smiled. “No. She's right. I get
so wrapped up in myself that I don't pay attention to the important things.”

  “I think that under the circumstances you have done extremely well.”

  If you only knew, he thought. And I don't know how you would react to the discovery of Gisela.

  He slipped past her and walked downstairs. The children were sitting on opposite sides of the dining table. Hans-Friedrich labored on his homework. Anna-Lisa industriously scribbled in her coloring book. Not wanting to disturb them, Schloss slipped past them in the hallway and walked into the kitchen.

  Frau Marsden had put a plate in the oven to warm his supper, and he took the oven mitts and pulled it out. He set it on the counter next to the sink, and then pulled a fork out of the drawer. As he began to eat he pondered the events of the weekend and this particular evening.

  He wondered why, when he was for all practical purposes the master of Germany, the most difficult parts of his new life were with his family and girlfriend. And the old lady who apparently had unchallenged rule of his household intimidated him greatly. It should not be this way.

  As Schloss worked his way through the supper and argued with the whiny voice in his head, Peter walked into the kitchen.

  “Oh, hello Hennie. I didn't know you were home.”

  “You didn't hear the children greeting me?” Schloss smiled.

  “I was in the bedroom reading and fell asleep. Renate just awakened me,” he said.

  “I think Herr Ribbentrop must be working you too hard.”

  “Ha!” the other man replied. “The discussions with the Americans are getting serious. It is possible the Foreign Minister may send me to Washington for discussions.”

  Schloss felt his eyebrows rising. “Is that so? The Americans are actually that interested? I thought the English were leading them around by the nose.”

  “So we thought. And there was some speculation that maybe the Americans were leading us around by the nose.”

  “Are they that sophisticated?” Schloss asked.

  Peter shrugged. “Who knows? Some of our sources in Washington indicate the Americans are truly interested in resolving things.”

  “And Canaris is not forthcoming with information, then.”

  “Correct. The Foreign Minister told me that Canaris thinks we are mad to even try talking to them.”

  “In other words, Canaris has no sources in the American foreign ministry,” Schloss said.

  “That was our conclusion,” Peter said dryly.

  Schloss frowned as he completed chewing a bite of supper. “I have heard that the American Department of State are a bunch of idiots. Roosevelt, of course, is another matter.”

  Peter chuckled. “Our people still don't know what to think of him.”

  “I think he's a very dangerous man,” Schloss said.

  “Do you think they might have me killed?” Peter asked suddenly.

  “No, no, Peter. Nothing like that. While I am very much in favor of achieving an understanding with the Americans, I fear they might lead us down the garden path. Churchill and Roosevelt are great friends. I just wonder if the American president is willing to go to war for the sake of the English.”

  “If the Japanese get involved, he might,” Peter said.

  “What have you heard?” Schloss asked. If the Japanese are planning an attack on Pearl Harbor in this universe, then I need to get us disengaged with them. That will truly be a challenge.

  “Their problems with petroleum and other natural resources are worse than ours. As long as they've confined themselves to Manchuria the Americans have left them alone. But they seem to be looking at southeast Asia and possibly the Philippines.”

  Schloss reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of lager and offered it to Peter. Peter nodded his thanks as he took it. Schloss pulled out another for himself. He leaned back against the counter and took a long drink.

  “And the Philippines are definitely American territory.”

  “And the Amis wouldn't be able to hold it,” Peter said. “They are at the end of a very long supply line and their forces there are not in good shape.”

  “You're missing the point, Peter.”

  The other man was just raising his bottle to his lips and he lowered it. “What do you mean?”

  “You should know this. If our friends in the far east attack the Philippines, they will be at war with the United States. We obligated by treaty to support them. That will bring America into the war against us.”

  Peter shook his head. “I had forgotten that.”

  “Always remember that the object of this exercise is to keep the Americans out of the war... by whatever means necessary.”

  “But, at what cost, Hennie?” he asked.

  “At all costs, Peter.”

  “Himmler thinks you are a coward,” Peter said. “No offense. He said so to Ribbentrop.”

  Schloss snorted. “And none taken. He has as much as said that to my face. Understand this, the Americans have many times the industrial capacity as we do. If they mobilize for war, they will probably build ships faster than we can sink them.”

  “Surely not!”

  “Believe it. And if they ever succeed in landing on the European continent, they have won. Oh, it may take a year or eighteen months, but it won't change the end.”

  “How could that be?” Peter argued. “We have the most powerful army in the world.”

  “Have you heard the phrase, God is on the side of the big battalions?”

  “I do not think so, Hennie. I take the meaning, though. They would cover us up in sheer numbers.”

  “Right. We need the time to absorb France and Poland, along with central Europe. We need to hold the English at arm's length until we can get a new generation of weapons ready. Then we can either force them to the table, or take them out so quickly the Americans won't be able to react.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  Outside the sound of air-raid sirens invaded the evening calm. Both men looked up.

  “It's not even dark, yet,” Peter said.

  “Come,” Schloss said, “let's get the children to the basement.”

  He walked down the hallway to the base of the stairs and yelled. “Frau Marsden, Renate! To the cellar!”

  The children met him in the hallway. “Come, children. It looks like we have an evening downstairs.”

  “Poppa, I do not like it down there,” the girl said.

  “Come, Anna-Lisa. We will be safer there.”

  Renate clattered down the stairs and walked past Schloss. “Come children, Tante Rennie will play games with you tonight.”

  Anna-Lisa clapped her hands together. “Oh, that will be such fun.”

  Renate gave Schloss a sad smile as she walked past. Frau Marsen brushed past him with a glare. Okay, she's still mad at me, he thought.

  The two women sat around a small table with the children and played a game with cards. Schloss was not familiar with it. Brightly colored animals were embossed on each card.

  There was a well-worn sofa with a couple of wingback chairs in the basement. Schloss wasn't quite sure how he came to possess them. Reading between the lines it seemed like the Alter-Schloss had purchased them at a sale when some Jewish family had been force to move out. Frau Marsden refused to use them.

  “Back to the topic at hand,” Peter said.

  “Which is?” Schloss asked.

  “I have worked in the foreign ministry since I finished school. And you know more about interaction of nations than I. And I pay attention to those things.”

  “I read a lot,” Schloss said. “And I try to think things through. For example, what happens if the English take a notion to start bombing our syn-fuel plants?”

  Peter was once again arrested in the process of taking a drink from his bottle. He set it down. “Mein Gott,” he breathed, “the whole country would grind to a halt.”

  “Exactly. That's why I am working with Goering on discouraging the English from flying their bombers again
st us. I do not know if we can totally stop them or not, but it is important for them to think it is counterproductive.”

  Peter held his bottle on his leg and stared at nothing. “Renate has always told me that I was just as smart as you, Hennie. It's nice to be flattered, but you are introducing me to ideas that never would have occurred to me.”

  “Don't underrate yourself, Peter,” Schloss laughed. “If you can get to the point where you have the Americans eating out of your hand, you are doing things I wouldn't dream of being able to do.”

  “I do not think I would characterize it as having them eating out of my hand. All modesty aside, though, I am rather good at negotiating with them.”

  “Exactly. We need to convince them that since Herr Hitler has gone to his reward, the Germans really want to be good neighbors.”

  “What reward would that be?”

  “I will leave that to your imagination,” Schloss replied.

  Renate and the children looked up when Peter laughed out loud. Mrs. Marsden continued to stare at the table.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Reich Air Ministry

  97 Wilhelmstrasse, Berlin Germany

  July 9, 1941 11:15 AM

  “What was the air-raid about on Sunday night, anyway?” Schloss asked.

  Goering frowned and shook his head. “I assumed it was a false alarm, but it appears the English sent a reconnaissance aircraft over the city.”

  “Did we succeed in shooting it down?”

  “No. Unfortunately. He came through low and fast.”

  “No matter. I suppose they have trouble stopping our photo planes as well,” Schloss said.

  Goering nodded. “And the English have lately been circumspect about sending their bombers across.”

  “What are we doing to locate them?”

  “We have the chain of Freya stations along the coast. You know, the Radio Measuring Device. The English have been very clever at foxing our signals. Excuse me, Herr Partieleiter,” Goering said, “the mechanics of the devices is beyond me.”

  “It is complicated,” Schloss agreed. “Have we considered installing the equipment in a Condor?”