Improbable Nazi

by Ward Wagher

  “And, I thank you for doing so, Hermann. I believe it is valuable for us to have these debates. Very likely one of us will miss something eventually, and if another of us catches it, it will save the nation a great deal of trouble.”

  Goering nodded to acknowledge the point.

  Schloss looked at the foreign minister. “I think we should send an immediate reply to the Americans. Tell them we recognize their unfortunate position and that we will not do anything to worsen the situation. Also, remind them that we are engaged in a war with the English and while we recognize their sympathies, we need to reach some kind of an understanding with the English. Please allow me to see the draft before you send it.”

  Ribbentrop nodded. “Of course, Herr Reichschancellor.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  January 5, 1942

  Warm Springs, Georgia, United States

  Lucy Mercer awakened to a cold, stiff mass in her bed and jumped in shock. She had gone to sleep the night before alongside the president of the United States and sometime during the night Henry Wallace had become the new president. Speechless and in terror, Lucy wrapped her robe about her and moved quickly to the door of the bedroom.

  The Secret Service agent who guarded the door turned as she opened it. He reacted quickly to the frightened lady, who remained speechless. He strode quickly into the room and over to the bed.

  “Mr. President? Mr. President?”

  He touched Franklin Roosevelt’s cold, dead hand and recoiled. He forced himself to touch the now doughy flesh of his neck to check for a pulse. He then turned and pushed the button on the night stand. Almost immediately it seemed as though the room filled up with White House and Secret Service personnel. It was clear, though, that Franklin Roosevelt, the 32nd president of the United States, was beyond help.

  § § §

  January 6, 1942; 2 PM

  Reichschancellery, Berlin

  “What do we know about Henry Wallace?” Schloss demanded as he looked around the table at the governing council.

  “Not a thing,” Ribbentrop said. “He’s a nonentity – a nobody.”

  “He’s the new president of the United States, Joachim,” Goering said in obvious disgust.

  Canaris raised an index finger.

  “Herr Admiral?” Schloss asked.

  “He has long been rumored to be a fellow traveler with the Communists. He has professed admiration for the collective farms.”

  “Well, that’s all we need,” Rainer snarled, “someone whose nose is being wiped by Stalin.”

  “Not necessarily,” Canaris said. “We actually have someone close to him. He appears to be in love with the Soviet ideal, but is smart enough to maintain some objectivity. I think his primary allegiance is to America. On the other hand, he is not sympathetic to the English.”

  “Can we confirm that?” Schreiber asked. “That is a significant datum.”

  “According to my sources he argued vociferously in the cabinet meetings against aid to England. He seems to believe imperialism is a mortal sin.”

  Ribbentrop snorted. “That would leave us out of the picture, then.”

  “Not necessarily,” Canaris said, waggling his finger. “Our encouragement of the Jewish state in Palestine had paid dividends. Frankly, when we stopped suppressing religion in Germany, we earned a lot of goodwill as well.”

  “This also raises the question of who, if anyone, we should send to the funeral?” Ribbentrop asked.

  “I suspect we would not be able to get anyone to Washington in time,” Goering said. “The Chargé d'affaires may have to handle it.”

  Schloss once again thought about Hans Thomsen, the German Chargé d'affaires in Washington. The man was a competent diplomat and had served well in America. Canaris had reported that he was mildly anti-Nazi. It seemed to Schloss that in the world he came from, Thomsen was never charged by the Nuremberg Tribunals.

  He pondered a few moments longer and then decided. “Please ask Herr Thomsen to represent us at the funeral. Also, Peter, please create a letter of condolence that we can place in the major American papers. Herr Thomsen should also request a meeting to introduce himself to the new president. We badly need to get his measure.”

  Peter nodded.

  “Do you suppose I should fly over at some point?” Ribbentrop asked.

  “Hermann and I had discussed establishing Condor flights to New York,” Schloss said. “But the North Atlantic is essentially an English lake since the Americans began pulling their navy to the west coast. I would think it would be a bit risky.”

  Goering nodded. “It is not fast enough and does not fly high enough. With the camouflage paint scheme, it is very hard to spot, but once an interceptor spots it, the end would not be in doubt.”

  “Pan Am has inquired about setting up service to Germany from America,” Ribbentrop said.

  “An interesting political question,” Schreiber said.

  “Can they even do it?” Schloss asked. “I thought all they had were flying boats.”

  “They have a few Boeing Stratoliners,” Goering said. “The four engine Douglas airplane is due in another year or so.”

  “Back to the subject at hand,” Schloss said. “I would like to suggest to the Americans that we upgrade our diplomatic missions, and mutually appoint ambassadors. What are your thoughts?”

  Rainer stuck his tongue in his cheek as he thought. “I have often wondered about that, Herr Reichschancellor. Perhaps we should wait a bit longer and give the new president a chance to settle in.”

  “I agree,” Ribbentrop said. “I think this is a very good idea, but we would be wise to wait.”

  Schloss raised an eyebrow. Ribbentrop was being uncharacteristically conservative.

  The foreign minister looked over at Schloss. “What?”

  “You are being modest, Joachim.”

  “I am trying to be careful in my advice,” the man said. “I have not done well in that respect in the past.”

  “I appreciate your caution.”

  Schloss looked around the room. “I think we have completed the agenda. Were there any other items?”

  “A thought, Herr Reichschancellor,” Goering said.

  “What did you have in mind, Hermann?”

  “Our losses on our raid last weekend were very acceptable. One of our colonels suggested a raid on Scapa Flow.”

  Schloss frowned. “Isn’t that out of range for us?”

  “If we staged out of Norway we would have fighter coverage for most of the trip. Colonel Kleinfuhrer has a working group that examines possible opportunities. The group thinks that if the squadrons land in Norway, refuel and get back into the air as quickly as possible, we would reduce the possible impact of spies there.”

  Schloss leaned back and scanned the room. “The idea has merit. Anyone have any thoughts?”

  “It would push the English off balance again, I think,” Rainer said. “If we can keep the losses within reason, I would find it attractive.”

  “Ja,” Goering said. “They have been working on a new bombing technique where we skip bombs across the water into the ships. We do not have torpedo bombers to speak of.”

  “That would surprise the inselaffe,” Schreiber said.

  “Yes, I believe it would,” Schloss agreed with a chuckle. “Island monkeys, indeed.”

  “So, we go ahead?” Goering asked.

  “Make your plans,” Schloss said. “I think I would like to hold onto this until the English do something stupid again. In fact, get things ready to go. When we make the decision, I would like to kick this off at the earliest opportunity.”

  § § §

  Tiergarten, Berlin

  January 6, 1942; 9 PM

  “We have too few times like this, my Darling,” Gisela said as she looked into Schoss’s eyes.

  He smiled sadly as he looked across the table at the striking red-haired woman. “And for that I must apologize, Gisela. Unfortunately, it is what we have seemed to have inherited. To have th
is evening with you is special.”

  “I am surprised you were able to arrange it. You must be frantically busy.”

  “I simply decided to take an evening with the lady I hold dear,” he said. “The work will be there tomorrow. I would like to delegate more, but we have trouble finding trustworthy people who can also make good decisions.”

  “Herr Schlempke seems to have no problem,” she said as she nodded at the guard who stood with his back to them, and carefully scanned the restaurant.

  “And for that we can be thankful. He has also trained me well.”

  “On how to be guarded?” she smiled.

  “Oh, yes. He has taught me that if he ever says down, I must immediately drop to the ground and worry about my dignity later. It would probably save my life.”

  “He has told me much the same thing,” she said. “I have accepted it as part of the environment we now work in. I suppose if we were traveling in Africa, we would be careful of the vipers and poisonous insects. So too, here.”

  “I wish I could accept that with the equanimity that you exhibit,” Schloss said.

  “Oh, Hennie, Frau Marsden has said you worry constantly about things over which you have no control.”

  He laughed. “That old woman has the right of it, I think. I do worry, and there is nothing I can do about it – other than striving to make Germany a safe place in the future.”

  “We are doing important work for Germany and I am honored to be at your side.”

  Schloss studied her and was once again reminded at how fortunate he was to have met Gisela. And he marveled, once again, about how he had come to land in this place. And concerning Gisela it crystallized his thoughts.

  “I find my thoughts drifting back to you, time and again, Gisela,” he said. “Sometimes you distract me.”

  “Oh, I don’t mean to distract you, Schatzi,” she said.

  “It is a pleasant distraction,” he replied. “You have become dear to me.”

  “I believe you have said that, often,” she said.

  “So, I have. And I have given this some further thought.”

  “And what conclusions have you drawn?”

  He took a deep breath before he spoke. “Marry me, Gisela.”

  She blushed deeply and took a deep breath. “When?”

  “Soon.”

  “If we hold a private ceremony all the matrons in Berlin will be enraged,” she said.

  “Does that bother you?” he asked.

  “Not at all. But, Hennie, is this not one of those things where we need to consider the country?”

  He looked disgusted. “That is why I asked privately, Gisela. Frau Marsden and my sister will want to schedule a state wedding and all that fol de rol.”

  “And that is what we are going to have to do, are we not?”

  “Yes.”

  “But, Hennie, I love you. Of course, I will marry you. And if we must throw a party for the nation, let’s give them one they will never forget.”

  He looked down to cut another piece of his prime rib. Including roasted potatoes and broccoli the meal was exquisite, as was the company. He wondered once again how he ever got through life without her. Among her other qualities, she was uncommonly wise.

  “Very well. I am happy that we have agreed to this. I was afraid you would deny my request.”

  She reached across the table and touched his hand. “Oh, Hennie, surely you know me better than that. I look forward to being your wife.”

  They continued with the dinner, and the restaurateur brought their desserts and aperitifs. They used the private dining room and the other diners had no idea an important person was in the restaurant.

  “What are we going to do about the English, Hennie?” Gisela asked.

  “I do not know. They are in a desperate position in North Africa. It’s a matter of time before Montgomery is forced to surrender. They are in grave danger in Australia. We keep whittling down their air power. Our ambassador in Lisbon has approached them, using the Portuguese foreign ministry as a go-between. They have been quite stubborn about this. At the moment, we could give them very favorable terms. As time goes on, we will be less generous.”

  “What is driving them?” she asked.

  “Their honor, mostly. Before the war they had concluded a string of treaties with the Poles, the Czechs, the French and the low countries. They feel bound to support those allies.”

  “But those countries do not exist anymore,” Gisela said. “That is not rational.”

  “Those countries exist in the minds of the refugees in London. And let’s be honest. Some of those refugees, like Charles De Gaulle are dangerous.”

  “Should we give those countries back?”

  “We cannot,” Schloss said. “What would we say? ‘Sorry, it was all a mistake?’ No, I do not think we can do that. Nor, do I think we should. For all his madness and megalomania Hitler had a point. Germany did not have enough territory to truly be successful and stable in Europe. The treaty of 1815 basically froze Europe’s map and really did not solve anything. The war of 1870 and the great war demonstrated that.”

  “I worry about those peoples we have overrun,” she said. “Will they not constantly attempt to rise up against us? And then we have to shoot them?”

  “There is no question we have challenges. But if we pull back now, we will be in a worse position than we were in 1918. Germany must be the preeminent power on the continent.”

  She laid down her dessert fork. “I worry about the morality of it, though. Most of those peoples did not want Germany to take them over.”

  He tilted his head to concede the point. “Very true. However, it is the situation we have been given. Trying to unravel things would result in a disaster for us. For better or worse, I think we need to work with the current situation.”

  The conversation slowed down as they worked through dessert. There was a certain comfort for Schloss just to be with Gisela.

  She finished eating her tart. “That was very nice, Hennie. Thank you for taking the time for me this evening. And I will speak with Renate and Frau Marsden about our wedding. We will take care of everything. All you will have to do is show up.”

  “Of course.” There was an edge of sarcasm in his voice that she chose to ignore. “Shall we go?”

  “Yes. I have eaten all that I am capable of.”

  “Alden,” Schloss called out to the guard, “we are ready to return home.”

  “Of course, Herr Reichschancellor. Please wait for a few moments while I line up the transportation.”

  Schloss nodded and beckoned to the waiter.

  “Yes, Herr Reichschancellor?”

  “Do you have a check for me?”

  “Here you go, Herr Reichschancellor.”

  Schloss studied the check and then scribbled his name. He closed the leather portfolio and left it on the table. He stood up and took Gisela’s hand to help her up. They began to walk down the narrow hallway to the back door where the vehicles waited. They were met about halfway back by Alden Schlempke.

  “Please go back to the dining room Herr Reichschancellor. Something is not right and I do not want to risk you and Frau Badhoff.”

  “What is happening?” Schloss asked, concerned.

  “One of the guards identified four cars that looked suspicious. I have called the local Polizei for some reinforcements. We cannot be too careful.”

  “Indeed,” Schloss said. “Come, my Dear. I think another cup of coffee would be good.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  January 6, 1942; 10:30 PM

  Reichschancellery, Berlin

  “Talk to me, Karl,” Schloss said.

  “Those suspicious cars disappeared.”

  “And you are implying they were never there in the first place?” Schloss asked.

  Rainer shook his head emphatically. “If Alden is convinced they were there, then they were there. No, Herr Reichschancellor, I am frustrated that we were not able to move quickly enough to corral whoever
it was.”

  The two men stood facing each other at one end of Schloss’s enormous office. The building was quiet at 10:30 in the evening, although it never completely slept. Karl Rainer, the head of the SS had met Schloss upon his return from the evening’s dinner.

  “I am very nervous because there are some former SS people we have not been able to locate,” Schloss said. “Sooner or later they will attempt something and we will depend upon Alden Schlempke’s quick reactions and ability to think on his feet.”

  “And I have every confidence in Alden,” Rainer said. “He is much better at providing security than I ever was. I just worry about the law of assassins.”

  “Eh? I am not familiar with that one,” Schloss said.

  “They have only to be lucky once.”

  Schloss shook his head and swore. “I really did not want to hear that tonight, Karl. I don’t mind telling you that this makes me very nervous.”

  “And I am nervous as well. I believe asking Frau Badhoff to stay in an apartment in this building was a wise decision tonight.”

  “I think it was too,” Schloss said. “Unfortunately, Frau Badhoff was not very happy about it.”

  “I tried to explain it as carefully as possible,” Rainer said quickly.

  Schloss laughed harshly. “Unfortunately, it is not you she is unhappy with. She received with great joy my wedding proposal this evening….”

  “That is wonderful news, Herr Reichschancellor. Congratulations!”

  “Thank you, but as I was saying, she was joyful until Alden called time-out.”

  “I think I understand.”

  “You are not married, Karl. You don’t understand.”

  Rainer didn’t answer, for he could think of nothing to say.

  After a few moments Schloss sighed. “Okay, Karl. I didn’t intend to take this out on you. I can assume you have devoted all available resources to this problem. And I can take some comfort, to contradict you, that whoever may be out there will only get one chance. That’s if our people are on the job.”