Improbable Nazi

by Ward Wagher

  And then there was Gisela. During his struggle to find his footing in this world, he had not known she existed until he discovered her waiting in his bed at a gasthouse, at the conclusion of a long, dangerous day in Munich. And now there was no doubt in his mind he could not live without her.

  “You seem pensive, Hennie,” Renate said, reading him accurately as usual.

  “It must be the season,” he said. “It is the might-have-beens and the never will be’s.”

  “And Herr Schloss needs to keep his mind on the here and now,” Frau Marsden interjected from her position where she stood along the wall.

  Peter Schreiber grinned at him. “You can run, but you cannot hide.”

  “Thank you very much, Peter,” Schloss said dryly, as he once again wondered about who or what Frau Marsden was.

  He looked at his sister. “No, Renate, I was just pondering the decisions to be made this afternoon. We cannot allow ourselves to forget our responsibilities. But, Frau Marsden is right. Right here and right now our family is the most important thing. I cannot let that distract me.”

  § § §

  December 29, 1941; 10 AM

  Reichschancellery, Berlin

  Schloss looked at the typed agenda for the meeting of the governing council. Willem Kirche carefully prepared this for every meeting, and it helped keep the sometimes-tumultuous meetings on track. Today Goering was reporting on victory of his Luftwaffe.

  “My pilots courageously flew through anti-aircraft fire and enemy fighters to achieve their objectives,” he crowed. “We dealt the Englanders a staggering blow.”

  Schloss had concluded that Germany had more than avenged the Christmas Eve raid, although he knew it was not a mortal wound. He and the Reichsmarshall had spent a couple of months preparing for a maximum effort raid. The English attack had given them the opportunity to launch it.

  Late Sunday night the Luftwaffe had emptied its airfields of bombers and fighters and taken the fight to the English. Early in the raid, several squadrons of bombers had targeted the English radio detection stations along the coast of the English Channel. This had the effect of poking their eyes out at the worst possible time. The bombers then swarmed in to attack airfields and military installations. Several squadrons were assigned the manufacturing facilities for the English Wellington bomber.

  “Details, Herr Reichsmarshall?” Schloss asked.

  “Oh… of course Herr Reichschancellor,” he replied, slightly disconcerted. He picked up the report on the table in front of him. “We achieved significant damage of the enemy airfields. Of course, it is difficult to ascertain the exact damage. We believe we completely destroyed the Wellington factory in Weybridge. Damage to the other factories was impossible to estimate.”

  Schloss looked around the room. He had asked Admiral Canaris to begin sitting in on the council meetings to reduce the delay in intelligence delivery. He had grown weary of asking Goering, who would then ask Canaris. The cycle often took weeks.

  “What is your assessment of the raid, Herr Admiral?” he asked.

  Canaris cleared his throat. “As the Reichsmarshall has suggested, our resources are thin in the United Kingdom. However, one of our clandestine agents confirmed the destruction of the Weybridge factory. This will neatly cut in half the production of that bomber, possibly more.”

  “Was the effort worth it?” Karl Rainer asked.

  The admiral rolled his tongue around in his mouth as he considered the question. “We sent out over four hundred bombers. We lost twenty-five. Those losses, particularly of the aircrew, hurt, but in the calculus of war it is probably acceptable.”

  Goering had a sly look on his face and Schloss wondered if he was withholding something. He did not entirely trust the man, and this worried him. He mentally shrugged, since there was nothing he could do about it at the moment. He resolved to ask Rainer to keep an eye on him, but then decided Rainer was probably already doing so.

  “When do you expect to have the full report of the raid delivered, Herr Reichsmarshall?” Schloss asked.

  “It will be another couple of days,” Goering said.

  “What can you tell me about our activities in the Mediterranean region?”

  “If you look on page two of today’s report, you will see the most current information,” Goering said, holding up the mimeographed copy. “We have finally driven the English and their allies out of Tobruk. General Rommel is doing an outstanding job. I believe we should consider whether it would be a good time to rout the English out of Egypt. It would certainly be advantageous to attack while they are disorganized.”

  Peter tapped the table with his finger. “There is a lot to be said for striking quickly, however, we can also see the results of careful planning in the recent raid over England. How is our logistics situation in North Africa?”

  Goering nodded to acknowledge the point. “Our supply lines are not as long as what the English face, so, the supply situation might be better.”

  “But, our convoys are getting through, right?”

  “Oh, yes. It seems that desert warfare chews up equipment at a frightening rate.”

  Rainer gazed over at Schloss, who nodded slightly.

  “May I suggest, Herr Reichsmarshall, that we pause and ask Rommel to send us a report on his current situation,” Schloss said. “I don’t think the English can reinforce significantly. We control the Mediterranean. They potentially could get supplies from India, but they have already committed a great portion of those resources.”

  Goering nodded sharply. “Of course, Herr Reichschancellor. You are very sensible as usual. I will take the opportunity provided to gain as much reconnaissance as possible.”

  Schloss looked over at Kirche.

  “Next item is the situation in the Far East,” the secretary said.

  “The Admiral has kindly provided the intelligence brief we all have in front of us,” Ribbentrop said. “I have been able to largely confirm this through diplomatic sources. After their initial reverse at Singapore, the Japanese launched heavy air attacks and were able to overwhelm the English Far Eastern fleet. We expect the Japanese will shortly control Singapore, along with Malaysia and points south. They are largely mopping up in the Hawaiian Islands. The Americans are not sure there is any way to stop them from eventually taking Australia.”

  “Sad for them,” Schloss murmured.

  Ribbentrop snorted. “They are in a tenuous position. In fact, Gordon Smoke sounded me out on the possibility of the Americans buying some U-Boats from us. I, of course, needed to bring this to the council.”

  Schreiber’s mouth dropped open and even Goering looked surprised.

  Schloss controlled his shock and looked at the foreign minister. “And what did you tell him, Joachim?”

  “This, of course, is highly unofficial. But, I told him I really needed to confer with you.”

  “Good answer,” Schloss said. “So, let’s confer.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  January 2, 1942; 4 AM

  Pacific Ocean west of San Francisco

  Vice-Admiral Chuichi Nagumo walked briskly into the chart room of the Akagi and studied the position of the Japanese fleet. They had used the night to creep close to the American west coast. This was another daring attack masterminded by Isoroku Yamamoto, the architect of Japan’s war on the United States. Nagumo was under no illusions about what he faced. While frightened at the audacity of Yamamoto’s plans for the Hawaiian Islands, they had succeeded far, far better than anyone had expected. In fact, the complete disaster suffered by the United States armed forces had allowed the Japanese to follow up and quickly seize the islands.

  This time they would be striking the American mainland. The Americans were badly frightened by the string of defeats in the Philippines as well as Hawaii. Nagumo expected to be sticking his hand into a hornet’s nest. Yet this was the time to strike. Although thoroughly aroused, the Americans were still in disarray. Yamamoto had patiently explained to him that while the Japanese wo
uld run rampant for a while, eventually the American industrial machine would take hold and they would crush Japan.

  Nagumo was not as pessimistic as his mentor, but he fully understood the need to take advantage of the opportunities that presented themselves. Most of the American fleet lay at the bottom of Pearl Harbor and the Americans would not have had time to set up effective anti-aircraft batteries along the west coast. Probably.

  At 4:30 AM the strike aircraft began launching from the six carriers in the task group. Several squadrons of Mitsubishi A1M fighters, known by the Americans as Zeroes, would fly cover and work to protect the bombers from any fighters that managed to locate the invading force. The force concentrated on the dive bombers. A couple squadrons of torpedo bombers would also look for targets of opportunity.

  At dawn, the force swept over the seaward peninsula and screamed across the bay towards the base at Mare Island. The coast guard had spotted the Japanese as they came in from the Pacific and sounded the alarm. There was a built-in delay as the reports worked their way up through the phone chain to the Navy command. The sirens had just begun to sound as the planes arrived overhead and began their dives.

  Nagumo stood outside of the bridge and chain-smoked as he waited for his aircraft to return. At 10:20 AM, as his nerves stretched beyond toleration, the first waves of aircraft appeared on the horizon. The formations looked slightly ragged, but not as badly as he feared. Would he be able to confirm success for the raid? Two reconnaissance aircraft had flown along with the raiders. Their task was to orbit above the American naval base and observe the effects of the raid.

  Once again there was wild celebration after the planes landed. It seemed they had accomplished their objectives. Nagumo turned the task force to the west to take them out of the range of the land-based aircraft. The American Flying Fortresses and Liberators could reach from a thousand to as much as fifteen-hundred miles out.

  In the afternoon, an American Catalina flying boat began shadowing the task force. Three times Nagumo had launched fighters to intercept and the airplane disappeared into the haze, only to return later. The admiral decided to wait until well after dark to change course. While he wasn’t particularly worried about the bombers – they were notoriously inaccurate, he was concerned that the Americans would vector any available submarines in their direction. That would be enough to ruin anyone’s day. At 9 PM the task force swung to the south. His orders were to raise as much havoc along the American West Coast as he could consistent with preserving the safety of his command. While he felt the two conditions of his commands were contradictory, he intended to follow orders.

  In the fading light of the day, Captain Dan Anderson drove the American submarine Wahoo as hard as he could. The throaty roar of the diesels flung exhaust smoke far into the air. If any Japanese spotter planes missed the exhaust plume, it certainly would not fail to notice the foaming wake as it boiled astern of the boat. Anderson knew he was being foolhardy in his extended high-speed run on the surface. But the radio reports from the Catalina had given him a chance to catch the Japanese and he intended to do so.

  When the navigator informed him that the Wahoo was within twenty miles of the predicted position of the Japanese task force, he sent the lookouts below, then took a final look around the horizon himself before dropping below deck and allowing the boat to submerge. At one-hundred feet below the surface, the sub leveled off and slunk along at 4 knots as the hydrophone operator searched for any sounds of surface ships.

  Finally, at midnight, Anderson surfaced again. Wahoo was one of the first submarines to have radar installed. While the equipment was primitive and limited, on a calm night like this one it could spot objects out to the horizon.

  “There is no way they could have gotten past us, Skipper,” the Executive Officer said. “We would have seen them.”

  Anderson, who was known for his characteristic frown only frowned deeper. “Okay, so they changed course. Lord knows I would have if I were the Jap admiral. So, the sixty-four-dollar question is which way?”

  “From what we are hearing from the radio stations on the coast, the Japs beat the hell out of Mare Island. They are quite a ways north.”

  “And what do you conclude from that, Exec?” Anderson asked.

  “If they were this far north, Skipper, I think they would have turned south again.”

  Anderson was down to his last precious pack of cigarettes. He pulled the pack out of his pocket and considered it, then tapped it against the side of his hand and slipped the cigarette out. He blew clouds of smoke as he made a circuit of the cramped control room. The boat was running well, and he had the crew trained to a fine pitch. Why couldn’t they catch those blasted Japs? The Exec made a good point, but his gut told him something different. He made another trip around the room and then made his decision.

  “Come to course zero-zero-zero. All ahead two-thirds.”

  “Aye, aye, Skipper.”

  “And let’s keep the radar up for the time being. I don’t want to stumble over anybody in the dark.”

  He completed his cigarette and tossed it into the bilges. “Okay, Exec, you have the watch. I’m going to bed.”

  “Exec has the watch, Aye, Sir.”

  “Call me if anything looks strange.”

  “Aye, aye, Sir.”

  The Exec watched the captain of the boat retire to his cabin and shook his head. He realized it was a coin-toss, but his gut was telling him the Japs had headed south and the Skipper made the wrong call. Finally, he checked the watch bill with the chief of the boat and then climbed up to the conning tower to join the lookouts in scanning the pitch-black sea.

  § § §

  Reichschancellor’s Meeting Room

  Reichschancellery, Berlin

  January 3, 1942; 10 AM

  “I received a note from the Americans this morning,” Joachim Von Ribbentrop said. “They are pulling most of their fleet from the Atlantic and ask for our forbearance vis a vis the English.”

  “Is that so?” Goering chuckled. “It looks as though they have handed us an opportunity to beat the English once and for all.”

  “That would be insane,” Rainer said. “We have worked hard and sacrificed much to achieve this level of trust with the Americans. Is it worth throwing that away?”

  Schloss was content to sit back and listen to the debate on this winter morning. He thought to himself that this was a wonderful opportunity to ascertain the real feelings of the men in the room.

  Schreiber, as usual, was taking careful notes, although Willem Kirche was as well.

  “Suppose we do this,” Schreiber said. “How will the Americans perceive this as anything other than a stab in the back, which it is?”

  “The Reichschancellor has taught us how to re-examine our plans when something isn’t working. We have not beaten the English so far. So maybe it is time to try something else.”

  “And so we would kick the Americans while they are down?” Rainer asked. The incredulity was on his face. “When would they ever trust us again?”

  “What would it matter?” Goering said. “They are on the other side of the Atlantic. And you are right, they have their own problems now.”

  Schloss was surprised the Reichsmarshall was being so aggressively foolish. “What has changed, Herr Reichsmarshall?”

  “What?”

  Schloss repeated the question. “What has changed?”

  “Why, the Americans are on their way to losing their war against the Japanese. We can jump in and force the English to accept terms, and it will end the war.”

  “And you sincerely believe the Americans will lose to the Japanese?”

  “Don’t you?” Goering asked in surprise. “If we let the Americans get further off balance in the Atlantic and then finish off the English, there will be little they can do. And maybe then the Japanese will forgive us.”

  “Willem, bring us a world map,” Schloss commanded.

  “At once, Herr Reichschancellor.”

&nbs
p; “I am not sure what you are trying to do here,” Goering said.

  “This debate has been good,” Schloss said, “but, we need to give careful consideration to any change in strategy.”

  Kirche walked back in with the map and spread it over the table. Schloss stood up and pointed at the map with his pencil.

  “Now, look here. The Japanese have Hawaii. They have Malaysia and Singapore. They will soon have the Philippines. Make no mistake, they are a very dangerous foe to the United States. Now, the Americans have quite a bit of industry on their west coast, particularly aircraft production. It is vulnerable, although I am not sure the Japanese have enough air power to really take advantage of that.”

  He looked around the table to make sure he had everyone’s attention.

  “But the bulk of American industry is in the heartland. It is out of reach of the Japanese. It is also out of our reach. They also have their shipyards on the East Coast. It is a matter of time before they rebuild their fleet. They will eventually sail into Tokyo Bay.”

  “Surely not,” Goering said. “The Japanese have beaten them badly. They will sue for peace.”

  “Did the English sue for peace?” Schloss asked.

  “Well, no.”

  “And we were far more successful in Europe than the Japanese have been.”

  “But they will probably take Australia.”

  “They might, although I am not sure. That is a big country. But so what? Let’s concede the Japanese will likely gain the raw materials they need to feed their nation. But they have even less manufacturing capacity than we do. The Americans have the capacity and the raw materials.”

  “But it would be good to mend our relations with the Japanese.”

  “For the purposes of this conversation,” Schloss said, “I do not care about the Japanese. They are on the other side of the globe. It will be decades before we discover a need to treat with them. And a lot will happen in the meantime.”

  “Very well, Herr Reichschancellor. I merely wanted to raise the point.”