Improbable Nazi

by Ward Wagher

  “I suppose I would like to know whether you feel these efforts are worth the effort. They require a frightening amount of money and resources, as you might guess.”

  “You are right to question me on this,” Schloss said. “You are correct. This program is very expensive. If the V1 proves out, and I think it will, we will have a very cost-effective weapon. If we can make them accurate enough to attack the English airfields, we can damage their war-fighting capability at a very modest cost. An added benefit is that we will not be spending lives to little effect.”

  “But our soldiers are willing to die for the Fatherland,” Goering said. “Should we take that into account?”

  Okay, fat Hermann has set me up beautifully for this retort, and I must use it.

  “Herr Reichsmarshall,” Schloss said, “our job is not to make our soldiers die for our country. Our job is to make the English die for their country.”

  Goering choked. “I never considered things that way.”

  And I, of course, cannot tell him I just quoted an American general.

  “Listen, Hermann, if things had gone according to the desires of Herr Hitler, we would have spent a generation of young men’s lives on the battlefield. Think about how that would have affected the national culture after the war. I want our men to be alive and victorious.”

  Goering stared at Schloss. “As usual, you have given me much to think about.”

  “Sit down, Hermann” Schloss said.

  Goering made his way back to the conversation nook and Schloss sat down across from him. He stared at the Reichsmarshall until he began to grow uncomfortable.

  “How long have you been out of the hospital?” Schloss asked.

  “A couple of weeks, or so.”

  “And have you rid yourself of your morphine habit?”

  Goering nodded, so rapidly his jowls quivered. “Ja, ja! I am clean. I must say it has been years since I have felt this good.”

  “I need you, Herr Reichsmarshall,” Schloss said. “I cannot afford to have you floating around as though airborne from the drug.”

  “I can assure, Herr Reichschancellor, I have completely eliminated the problem. I am fully able to serve the Fatherland.”

  “I cannot afford to replace you,” Schloss said. “Or at least easily. You are important to the Reich.”

  “Thank you, Herr Reichchancellor, I try to do my best.”

  “I’m am not finished yet, Hermann.”

  Goering straightened in his chair and looked sharply at Schloss. “My apologies.”

  “As I was saying,” Schloss continued, “I badly need you for your skills and for continuity of the government. You are also popular with the people. But, if I find out you are sticking a needle in your arm again, I will have you shot! I will tell the people your health suddenly failed. It would be sad, Hermann.”

  Goering was speechless. He stared at Schloss with a face turned pale.

  “Just so we understand each other, Herr Reichsmarshall. We do understand each other?”

  Goering continued staring at Schloss and swallowed convulsively. “Of course, Herr Reichschancellor, I am here to serve. I can assure you I have surmounted my problems.”

  “Gisela and I are fond of Emmy and your daughter,” Schloss continued. “It would be a sad thing for them if something happened to you.”

  “Do you now threaten me, Herr Schloss?” Goering asked. He had his color back and was beginning to look angry.

  “No, I am simply telling you what will happen to you if you get careless again. We have a lot of important things to accomplish and I need your help. We must hold ourselves to a higher standard.”

  “Of course, of course,” Goering subsided. “Do you have any specific instructions about Dornberger’s team?”

  “I believe the V1 is going to be a significant weapon. We need not only to get it into production, but also continue to develop it.”

  “And the A4?”

  “I am of two minds on the A4,” Schloss said. “It has an enormous potential, but I do not think it will be realized with the current warheads. It needs something much more powerful. And also, if we can get this war out of the way, I would like to put men into space within the next ten years. But, right now, the A4 is simply not a cost-effective weapon.”

  “Once again, Herr Schloss, you amaze me with your grasp of the nature of warfare.”

  “As I said, I read a lot. Now, tell me about the Me262.”

  “We have completed enough airframes to form a test squadron. The commander wants time to develop procedures for managing the aircraft as well as develop tactics.”

  “When could they enter combat?”

  “At a guess, I would suggest sometime after the first of next year. This will not only allow us to get some numbers built, but also to gain some expertise.”

  “Very well. Thank you for coming today.”

  Recognizing he had been dismissed, Goering stood up and clicked his heals together. “As always, Herr Reichschancellor, the honor is mine.”

  I wonder if you would still be thinking that if I had to put a bullet in your head, Schloss thought.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  April 23, 1942; 9AM

  Office of the First Secretary

  United States Consulate

  Berlin, Germany

  “Miss Simpson, I really believe we should talk,” said H. Gordon Smoke, the Consul General.

  “Sit down, Gordie. What’s on your mind?” Misty Simpson asked.

  “I believe I would prefer to stand. I am rather bothered.”

  “Maybe you could tell me what is bothering you, then,” she said.

  He looked around the room except at her. Finally, he spoke.

  “I am concerned about all the time you are spending with Herr Rainer,” he said. “There is serious risk you may compromise your usefulness to the United States if you are known to be overly friendly with a Nazi.”

  She stared at him for a few moments before speaking. “Okay, I understand what you are saying. You are concerned my judgment might be compromised if I were too friendly with Herr Rainer.”

  “Not your judgment, necessarily,” he said. “But, I think you could blunt your usefulness to the United States. Appearances matter.”

  “And you worry about what I do in public?” she asked. “That’s rich. Look at the way you put your foot in your mouth in public, Gordie. I think I would worry about that.”

  He continued as though he had not heard her. “And it opens you up to the possibility of blackmail. I worry particularly about that.”

  “Plus, Cordell Hull told you that if you were a good boy and avoided embarrassments to the United States, you might have a real shot at being the American ambassador to the Reich.”

  The look on his face told her that the shot had gone home. He now looked flustered. “Really, Misty, this is for your own good. I worry about you running around in this town by yourself.”

  She gave him a patronizing look. “I can take care of myself, Gordie. And I am careful in my conversations with the Reichsprotektor.”

  “The Reichsprotektor?” he said. He leaned over and tapped his finger on Misty’s desk calendar. “Then, what is this? Lunch with Karl?”

  For the first time, he had her speechless. She stared at him with her eyes flashing. She jumped to her feet and pointed at the door.

  “You can just get out of my office, Gordie! Director Donovan reads my reports, and I have detailed my relationship to Rainer to him. He is satisfied with the job I am doing, so you do not have to worry about it. God, I hate nosy, officious bumblers. And you are among the worst. Now get out!”

  He retreated with a smile on his face. He was pleased to finally break through her self-assurance, but he really was worried that she might be getting too close to the Nazis. Playing political games with the OSS was one thing, but giving the Germans a possible source inside the consulate was frightening. Smoke personally liked the Germans, and was proud of engineering a rapprochement between the Un
ited States and Germany. But, he was under no illusions about them. They were as committed to their national ideals as he was, or the British were. It would serve no one’s purpose to have Nazis hiding in the closets around the consulate. Simpson clearly did not understand what she was playing with here. He decided this needed to be the topic in his next report to the Secretary of State.

  Misty Simpson trembled as she sat back down. She was embarrassed at having lost her composure with Smoke. He was a nasty little man, and she normally delighted in twitting him. She forced herself to consider what he had said, though. As she had sat in her bath tub the previous evening, she had given serious consideration to her feelings about Karl Rainer. Not only was he thoroughly charming as well as kind, but, he also had a solid core of honor within him that was as unyielding as iron.

  She wondered once again if he was trailing a false flag and he was really the same kind of monster as was Himmler. But, she didn’t think so. She had seen him in odd moments where his true colors came through, and those colors were as bright and unmixed as his personality.

  Her other concern was that she was dangerously attracted to the man. This was something new in her experience. The young men she had hung around with at New York’s Columbia University had always seemed shallow and immature. No one she met there seemed to have any thoughts beyond the next weekend. Karl Rainer seemed to be thinking a hundred years ahead. And he had explained to her that the Reichschancellor was thinking a thousand years ahead. It was a little scary, but also admirable.

  Complicating an already complicated situation were Rainer’s obvious feelings for her. She wondered how he was going to deal with his own government if this relationship proceeded. And what would happen if she allowed herself to fall in love with him? Perhaps the wise thing to do would be to just break it off. That would potentially save them both a lot of trouble. She then wondered if she was capable of doing that. If things had advanced to that point, there was nothing for it, but to break off the relationship during lunch.

  § § §

  April 23, 1942; 12:30PM

  Danish Restaurant

  Berlin, Germany

  “You seem pensive today,” Rainer said.

  Misty looked down at her plate, where she stirred around what was really an excellent meal. She looked up at him and forced a smile.

  “I’m sorry, Karl, but I have been distracted of late.”

  “Is it something you can talk about, or does it concern business?”

  “You are very considerate,” she said. “I do appreciate your kindnesses to me…”

  “And so…” he prompted.

  “Gordie Smoke raised the question this morning that I have been avoiding for several weeks,” she said. “I told him to shove off, of course. It was really none of his business.”

  “You usually do not beat around the bush like this,” Rainer said with a smile.

  “I am afraid that if I spend too much time with you, I will compromise my effectiveness in the State Department.”

  He nodded as in thought. “I wondered if that might be your concern.” He hesitated and then spoke quickly. “I find myself very attracted to you, Misty. I have enjoyed these times we have had together.” He chuckled. “I have never met anyone quite like you.”

  “Oh, Karl.” She blushed. “Now, I don’t know what to say. I can’t seem to stay away from you and I don’t know what to do.”

  “I do not have quite the same problem as you,” he said. “I know my agents keep an eye on me, and I instruct them to. There is one here in the restaurant, in fact. But I enjoy Herr Schloss’s complete confidence. In fact, he and I are of one mind on almost everything.”

  “Unfortunately, I do not have that luxury,” she said. “I think it would be wise if we maintained our distance. I do not know if I could stretch the secretary’s confidence in me that far.”

  “I thought you worked for Director Donovan,” he replied.

  “Who?”

  “William Donovan, the Director of the American OSS.”

  Rainer thought her laugh sounded natural.

  “I couldn’t imagine being a spy. I would not be very good at it.”

  “To the contrary, Misty, I think you make a marvelous spy. You are very, very good.”

  This was twice in one day she had been nonplussed. She could think of nothing to say.

  “I apologize,” Rainer said. “That was cruel of me. I should not have put you in such a position.”

  “I am the first secretary of the American consulate. That is all. And I think it is time to leave.”

  She gathered her purse and stood up. Rainer quickly stood up. He threw several bank notes on the table and followed her out of the restaurant.

  “Was everything okay, Herr Reichsprotektor?” the owner asked as Rainer approached the doors.

  “Fine,” Rainer snapped. “A very nice meal.”

  The owner looked at them with concern as they left. Neither had eaten much of the meal. Rainer’s Opel was at the curb when they walked out of the restaurant. The driver held the door for them as they climbed in. Rainer looked over at her as they rode across Berlin.

  “I apologize for being inconsiderate,” he said after a while.

  “Oh, you were not inconsiderate, Karl,” she said. “You simply brought into focus that which I have tried to ignore for weeks. I cannot maintain my position at the embassy and at the same time be a good friend of yours… or something more. And I have discovered that I care for you very much.”

  He smiled as he looked down at his hands in his lap. “We cannot rewind the past,” he murmured. “One can only move forward. I learned that over and over again from Herr Schloss.”

  “But what can I do?” The pleading was evident in her voice.

  He reached across and took her hands. “Marry me. I, myself, realized that I cannot live without you, Misty. I love you.”

  “But I would have to resign my position. And what if Germany and the United States went to war with each other? What would I do? What would you do?’

  “Things will work out. I can make them work out. Her Schloss had told us that we need to avoid war with the United States at all costs. It won’t happen.”

  “Oh, Karl!” She jerked her hands away and folded them in her lap. She trembled as she wept.

  “I am sorry if I have upset you,” he said. “I would not ever hurt you.”

  She did not answer, but rather just shook her head. The car eased to a stop in front of the American Consulate. Before the driver could get out to open her door, she pushed it open and jumped out. She trotted to the front door of the consulate and one of the marine guards pulled open the door for her. Rainer watched her go.

  “Back to the office,” he said to the driver.

  “At once, Sir,” the driver said as he pulled away from the curb.

  “I obviously did not handle that well,” he said.

  The driver looked in the mirror at him. “Sir?”

  “I seem to have upset the lady,” he said shaking his head.

  “It often happens in spite of our best efforts, Sir,” the driver said. “There are times when anything you say will be the wrong thing.”

  “Well, I definitely accomplished that today.”

  “Time is often the salve that heals hearts.”

  “Are you a poet, Lieutenant?” Rainer asked.

  “No, of course not. I heard that from my grossmutter.”

  “It is certainly poetic, although I wonder if your grandmother was right.”

  Upon his return to the office, Rainer shut the door and sat down. He stood up again and walked over to a sideboard where a carafe of coffee waited on a warmer. He poured himself a cup and returned to his desk. Sitting in his chair, he gazed around the expansive office. While it lacked the grandeur of Schloss’s palatial spread, it gave up little in opulence. And it seemed unimportant in comparison to Misty. He picked up a pen to sign a document on the desk, then flung the pen across the room.

  He then laughed
. “You are acting like a child, Karl. Pull yourself together.”

  His secretary opened the door and looked in. “Something I can help you with Herr Reichsprotektor?”

  He chuckled as he walked across the room to retrieve the pen. “No, just practicing my temper tantrums for the government council meetings.”

  “Of course, Sir.” The secretary looked at him curiously as he walked back to his desk.

  The office staff had watched with interest as Rainer became friendly with the American woman. His life had seemed empty to them before he met Misty Simpson. There was now even a betting pool as to when the couple would become affianced. On the whole, they were very happy for the couple. No one seemed to consider the diplomatic consequences of the romance. Currently, Karl Rainer was very much considering those consequences on this afternoon. It was clear Misty was as well. He wondered what would happen eventually.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  April 25, 1942; 12PM

  Executive Dining Room

  United States Department of State

  Washington, D.C., United States

  “Kind of you to invite me to lunch, Mr. Secretary,” William Donovan said.

  The white-haired and patrician looking Cordell Hull smiled at his guest. “I should have done this sooner, Colonel. One gets busy and then one forgets one’s friends.”

  Donovan, who was the Director of the Office of Strategic Services, had never considered himself a friend of the Secretary of State. He wondered what the old geezer was up to. While Hull competently managed the foreign policy for the country as well as kept the denizens of Foggy Bottom in line, there was real question as to whether he or President Wallace ultimately called the shots. Of course, Donovan had yet to quite settle in his mind as to whether he set the strategies for the OSS or Wallace pulled the puppet strings. Either Wallace was oblivious or he manipulated the key players with a subtlety that completely eclipsed the maneuverings of Franklin Roosevelt.

  “Indeed,” Donovan said. He glanced at the menu. “What is good here?”