The Chairman of the Fascist Council wore a pair of white linen trousers with a light-blue shirt, he had a straw hat on his head. He could be any grandfather in Italy. Benito Mussolini at home was somewhat unkempt. He sat on the veranda of his country home overlooking an olive grove. At his side sat Professor Manuel Álvarez-Rivera.
“Am I a madman yet?” Mussolini asked in an amused tone.
“No, not yet, still just eccentric,” his advisor assured him.
“I do not intend to sink to the level of madman this time. Eccentric I can accept.” He poured himself another glass of wine, emptying the bottle. “We together can save Italy from this insanity, this storm on our horizon.”
“Then why are we in Spain at all?” Manuel asked.
“It is necessary. We must move Spain to the Fascist bloc. A Fascist Italy cannot survive alone. Nazi Germany is destined to be destroyed, all well and good, but we must have at least one friend in the world. Further, I can see friendly governments in Spanish-speaking America coming to our side. Then, even when this war is over our bloc will be secure from both the English and the Reds.”
“Then I would see Madrid being the center of this Fascist empire.”
“No, not really, Spain is a pauper state. They are, or soon will be, dependant upon us for their economy. Also I did not use the word ‘empire,’ you broke me of that. A community if you will, of the Fascist, Catholic world against the Protestant democracies and the Asian despots.”
“Argue all you like Benito, Spain speaks Spanish.” Manuel opened another bottle with a pocketknife.
“I like to argue. But in truth we cannot go far wrong as long as we stay out of Hitler’s orbit. Then Italy can survive and worry about Peron looking to Rome or to Spain for inspiration. That is a side issue altogether. Let mad dogs kill each other I say.” Mussolini wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“He will come for us at some point. His military is too strong for us.”
“We have, we will have, a better military this time, we have the Alps, and most important of all, this time we have a Libyan treasure to fund our industry. It is a dangerous game, but one we can win.”
The time traveler raised his glass. “Libyan treasure.”
“To Libyan treasure.”
“I feel a need to walk, come join me.” Yet again Mussolini was a charming host. Despite all he knew of the man’s nature, sometimes Manuel liked the man. A discreet guard followed them down a well-worn trail. A dog was barking in the distance. “The airplanes we spent so much money on are coming into service in Spain, I know our work is good, they are the equal of the Germans and outclass the Soviet shit.”
“Still, we must improve them constantly, we must not be left behind,” Manuel said. The birds began to settle for the night.
“The navy is at my throat, the air force thinks I am genius. But now it is time to improve the army. If war begins in 1939 we must be ready to protect our frontiers, our shores. Before your transportation, we paid the English for the plans of an advanced tank, the six-ton type from Vickers. I need you to go see one, lay your hands on it, tell me what we can do to improve it.”
“I will make the arrangements with your office.”
“Also I am not happy about the training program. More and more expensive equipment will be going to the army, we cannot have half-trained boys playing games with it.”
Manuel observed, “I did my time in the army you know, I was drafted too.”
“Excellent, you’re just the man for the job.”
Chapter 7
An early dusting of snow blew across the gray slate patio outside the conference room at the Greenbrier Hotel in rural West Virginia. The entire Oversight Committee had assembled for the second time ever a week before Christmas, 1936 when their absence could easily be explained. The room was already filling with smoke.
Winston Frederick had assumed the uniform of an Army master sergeant and sat against the wall behind George Marshall and William Leahy taking notes. Senator Taft was again chairing the meeting.
“More than a year has passed, are we on schedule?”
The Treasury Department man replied first, “On or ahead of schedule, we’re spending our way out of the Depression, not that you can tell yet, lots of money going into public works, university scholarships, whatnot.”
“Hundreds of students have just finished their first term in programs in electronics and avionics.” The Labor Department added.
“Will they have jobs when they get out?” Taft asked.
“If they don’t they had better go out and make their own jobs.” Came the reply. Several around the table snorted.
“Tell me about the public works.” Taft ordered.
“The intercoastal waterway is being improved along the entire coast. The hydroelectric plants are underway. Also we have managed to finance a pipeline from the Texas oilfields to the two coasts. These have been billed as employment schemes, but will help when the time comes.” The Labor Department man offered. “We have leaned on the railroads for improvements there, the states are working on farm-to-market roads. Again, make-work programs, but useful ones.”
“No highways?” a voice at the end of the table asked.
“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.” Taft looked up from his pad of paper. “Highways would be wonderful, but not yet, not without a huge additional investment in trucks and so on. One step at a time.”
Taft continued, “What about overseas?”
“We are developing Mexican oil as fast as we can, we might get a pipeline from down there to Texas in time.” The Commerce Department representative continued. “We will have a new facility to produce 110 octane aviation gas next year. All in all, the oil situation looks good.”
“What about overseas, Europe I mean.” Senator Taft reached in his pocket for a cigarette case.
Now the State Department delegate took stage. “Things are proceeding as predicted. The Spanish Civil War is now in full swing with Stalin and Hitler destroying the place to see who can have whatever is left. The Italians are starting to lose their primacy as the first Fascist state to the Germans. What the Germans lack in materiel, they made up for in enthusiasm. Relations between Hitler and Mussolini are cooling a bit. That was to be expected.”
“What about this Italian oil?” The Commerce man asked.
“We have granted licenses to a number of companies to provide oilfield equipment. We figure someone is going to do the work, might as well be our guys. They have been very cooperative in providing information we may find useful later. When we have to bomb those fields we will have extensive blueprints ready.”
“That’s in Libya?” Leahy asked.
“Yes admiral, a nice field in Libya.”
Winston made a note to ask about that later.
“Stalin and Hitler both seem to be moving along the paths we were told to expect. The situation in Tokyo is harder to read of course, they are more secretive than the Soviets in many ways. We have our attaches collecting economic information all over Asia and Europe. Nothing that would attract attention, but we should have a better idea how the economy in those countries fit together. To sum up, we can say there has been no butterfly effect overseas as far as we can tell.” The foreign service man closed his dossier.
“General Marshall, what is our military standing?” Taft turned the floor over to the Army general who spoke while seated to the Senator’s left.
“At the moment, our military is not as impressive as, for example, the French. We do not have a single modern tank or new field artillery gun. Still that is to be expected, and a lot of the groundwork has been laid for a planned expansion. We have sent teams to the National Guard and now have a clear idea of where they stand and how we have to fix them. University students are being offered summer camp military training, and more than a few are taking us up on it. We have integrated our senior staffs and staff colleges with Navy men and even people from industry and have learned a lot from them. In the coming year,
our budget will include a lot of new procurement and we will start to see changes at the unit level.”
Marshal returned to his seat.
“Admiral Leahy, the Navy, sir?” Taft signaled the man to his right.
“Our fleet is simply unchanged since our first meeting. Designing and building ships takes a lot of time.
General Marshal has pointed out our improved teamwork with our friends in the Army. I appreciate all he has done to make it happen. Our new class of submarines will be the best in the world, the first one will be launched in a couple of months. Two new fleet carriers will come down the slips next year. With the lessons we learn from those ships we will build an even bigger class with the hulls now budgeted as battleships. Also we have taken a real interest in the Merchant Marine Commission’s work, we hope to have the first fifty Liberty ships available by the end of the year, after we finalize the design we can open the taps on short notice. I suspect we may be able to do some amazing things with Liberty ship hulls, already we are looking at tankers, people are very creative. Next Christmastime we should see the beginnings of a change in the Navy.”
Taft took a sheet of paper from his briefcase, “The President has asked me to thank you all for your hard work and discretion. He wants to stress that we are not preparing to start a war, but to win one that seems preordained.” He looked up. “If there are no objections, gentlemen I have ordered a buffet dinner in the main dining room. I want you to have a good time and informally discuss the developments in your own spheres among yourselves. As the vice-president is so fond of saying, we need a bit of cross-pollinating. At tomorrow’s secession we will have time to consider any sparks of inspiration that might emerge.” He and the two senior officers stood up, ending the meeting.
The ballroom was large, a dance floor in front of an empty bandstand stood opposite a number of serving tables; a head waiter hustled the hotel staff out of the room as the secretive guests arrived. One of the delegates quickly appointed himself bartender and began mixing drinks others gamely took positions behind the tables and began to carve two large turkeys. General Marshall and Admiral Leahy sat side by side in overstuffed leather chairs in front of the only fireplace. Tom worked a soapstone to light the coal already in place.
“Hear anything odd, Sergeant Frederick?” Leahy asked with a forced smile.
“Libya is not supposed to have oil until after the war, after independence.” The time traveler replied.
“Anything else?” Marshall asked.
“I’ll tell you something else,” the navy man said, “the Italian navy is going to hell. They seem to have scraped their modernization plan altogether. Have you seen that fool Mussolini prancing around like some sort of Roman emperor? Why would a man like that cut back naval construction just as his economy is taking a big leap?”
Winston observed, “Italy is supposed to be a loyal partner of the Germans in Spain. Why are they falling out?”
“Could be Mussolini just doesn’t want to play second fiddle, his army is as good as the Germans, and with oil his economy should be recovering,” the admiral offered.
“What do you make of that?” Marshall directed his question at Winston.
“Could be dumb luck, could be a butterfly. Still why is the Italian Army doing so well, in Spain? They were supposed to be pretty second-rate compared to the Germans. Like I said, it could be a butterfly, but it might be something worse,” he replied.
“Like what?” the admiral asked.
“They could have a visitor from the future too,” came the reply.
Both officers sipped their drinks silently. In the center of the room, the line at the serving tables dwindled and small groups began to introduce themselves to one another. A small parade formed as each representative came to the two uniformed officers in turn. A thickset man from the Treasury talked about plans to move the gold reserve to Kentucky for safety. A hawk-like delegate from the Post Office asked Marshall when planes would be available to take mail across the Atlantic.
“Years from now, I suppose. We are working on it.” The general replied.
“The British say they will start a nonstop service from Nova Scotia to Ireland next year, in the spring in fact,” the functionary pointed out. “How can they be ahead of us?”
“Sergeant Frederick, made a note to ask about that.” Marshall ordered.
Winston made another note on his pad. “Yessir.”
A Navy commander from the Office of Insular Affairs talked to Leahy quietly, when he saw the others were listening, the Navy Chief indicated he should speak up. “I was telling the admiral that we have drawn up plans to quickly fortify the Pacific processions,” the flustered man said.
“This would be a violation of the Washington Treaty, so we have taken no actions yet.” The admiral pointed out.
Marshall gestured with his hands, “No, not yet at least. We have a lot of thinking to do about a Pacific strategy.”
Leahy agreed, “No need to build defenses if we decide to send the fleet elsewhere. Keep planning but take no action without word from me. Also any correspondence you send to me on this matter is to furnished simultaneously to General Marshall.”
“Aye, sir,” the man replied crestfallen.
Other members of the committee mentioned projects are far-ranging as new telephone cables to agricultural recovery. Winston knew the informal gathering was working, many of the speakers sparked a memory that he jotted down for follow-up.
Later in the evening, as the dinner cum meeting broke up, Senator Taft came to the fireplace. Both Marshall and his navy counterpart stood to speak to him. “Some good ideas, some bad ideas, but at least we are thinking.” He offered.
“Everyone thinks his own sphere is the most critical, sir” Leahy replied.
Marshall waved “Sergeant Frederick” over. Winston carried his clipboard at the ready to maintain his cover as a confidential aide.
“I’m worried about a couple of things” Frederick said without preamble.
“Italian oil and what else?” The Senator from Ohio asked.
“First, what seems to be a sterling performance by the Italian Army in Spain. I know that was not supposed to happen. The Italian are supposed to have the least-developed European army. Also, Admiral Leahy pointed out that Rome is under investing in their navy. Then there are these transatlantic British airplanes. I don’t know exactly when they were supposed to come in, but it seems much too early for regular scheduled flights like that.”
“Perhaps we ought to arrange a small meeting with some minor British officials. It seems we have a lot in common with our friends in London. Who can we expect to be in the know over there?” Marshall asked.
“Let’s try a backbencher named Winston Churchill.” Doctor Frederick replied.
“I suspect we have some mutual friends,” Taft volunteered.
Chapter 8: Newfoundland
Even in March, Halifax harbor was dark, cold and foggy. The two Americans came aboard the British cruiser unnoticed. The warmth and light of the officer’s mess was in stark contrast to the gloom outside.
The table was dominated by a figure at the far end. Winston Churchill in his navy uniform stood to welcome his visitors. His face was lit with a mischievous conspiracy, “Doctor Winston Frederick, I presume?” He asked.
“A pleasure, Mister Winston Churchill.” The American replied with a grin.
“May I introduce our advisor, Doctor Don Erlang? I understand you two have much in common.”
Churchill indicated a tallish man to his right. Don’s pleasure at meeting another throwback was obvious.
“We are in a quite dangerous place, gentlemen.” Churchill said. “Without your remarkable intervention, we were destined to win this oncoming war. But now we face a much more hazardous situation.”
“Certainly we must be careful how we take full advantage of our foreknowledge,” Captain Hereford replied, “but I do not see how we are in greater danger now than before.” He was playing his cards
close to the vest.
“I suspect you may not appreciate the situation.” Erlang said. He glanced at Churchill who nodded.
“You see, we are now quite certain the Germans also have a visitor from the future.”
The room became very quiet.
“How do we know that?” Dr. Frederick asked.
“They are already testing an advanced U-Boat, no battlecruisers this time, it looks like the Luftwaffe will get their big bombers, but that is just the tip of a hidden iceberg.” Churchill replied.
“If the Germans have an advisor, as do we two do, how many others are there out there?” Hereford asked.
“What can we do?” Churchill asked the room, “We must proceed from the assumption that all the nations involved are being provided with this miraculous information. And this of course means we are, as I said, in a very dangerous place.”
“We are concerned about the Italians.” Hereford admitted.
“What about them?” Churchill asked around a cigar.
Frederick was pleased to spring a surprise on his counterpart. “They have discovered oil in Libya a couple of decades too soon. They seem to be doing too well with the Spanish Civil War.”
“So, one British, one American, one German, one Italian. As I said, we must presume a Russian, a Japanese, perhaps a Chinese visitor as well, perhaps many more” Churchill said.
“I cannot imagine what a German advisor would say to Hitler, or a Russian to Stalin even worse a Japanese with foreknowledge. The war was a complete disaster for all of them.” Don said.
“Not having a war would seem to be the best option.” Hereford said, “Maybe we can still avoid a fight.”
“Tell Hitler to try to relax a little? I hope that cat has his life insurance paid up.” Frederick sat down for the first time.
It was Hereford how made the next observation. “The Germans and the Italians are in Spain, this was or is the training ground for their troops. We have to presume the German and Italian throwbacks are not going to stop this war. Nothing we know of has derailed us on our way to war.”
Paul Adkins Page 4