by Scott Palter
O’Connor’s head snapped up at this. “So the Navy’s pulling its dependents out? What about ours? We’ve got troops with family here. We’ve got retirees. Who else goes?”
“I have been forbidden an official evacuation. It is all being done word of mouth by us, RAF, Colonial Office, the usual dog’s breakfast of agencies. Out by train to Palestine and then bus across to Baghdad. Train through Syria and Turkey is deemed ‘unwise’; and I’m inclined to agree. The French authorities are being correct with us, but they will never forgive the attack on their fleet. We wouldn’t if it were reversed.
“And from Baghdad?”
“Iraq is deemed safe.” The two generals traded wry looks at that fancy. Nothing was safe at the moment this side of Nairobi or Karachi. “There’s still civilian sea traffic out from Basra to India. The prices have gone through the roof but … ” Left unsaid was that military necessity would be invoked on ship captains who proved ‘uncooperative’. No British would willingly be abandoned. What was to be done about other Empire peoples such as Sikhs and Chinese, was left unspoken. The two generals went back to arguing exact deployments, down to where to place armored-car forward scouts. They both knew they were probably arranging deck chairs on the Titanic, but one kept calm and carried on. What else was there to do?
0945 hours CET
28 August 1940
Bari, Italy
The command staff of the 25th Panzer Regiment was stuffed into a warehouse near the harbor. The port was a madhouse as thousands of troops arrived at the port in preparation for the Italian navy to escort them to Africa.
Oberst Karl Rothenburg was reading a report of timetables for when his regiment would arrive. Currently the three battalions and its 265 Panzers were on freight trains between here and Milan. 265 in theory. Many of the original AFV’s were still down for maintenance; substitutes were, supposedly, coming from hither and yon.
Movement was being done, in theory, by companies. The result was the long line of trains making its way down the Italian peninsula, plus strays listed as arriving on other trains headed for Naples. When, if ever, these would reunite with the division was yet another mystery.
Once in the port of Bari, the Panzer companies were being loaded onto ships as they arrived. What a beschissenes Schlamassel, Rothenburg thought. A delay of another two weeks would have made this much more manageable. Instead, units were arriving out of order, and they wouldn’t be able to reform the regiment until they got to Libya. Orders from Berlin were clear: speed was absolutely critical. Military Police, railroad troops, and even SS officers were rounding up stray troops and funneling them south.
It occurred to Rothenburg that the 7th Panzer Division was again living up to its nickname, ‘the Ghost Division’. During the invasion of Belgium and France, Rommel had ruthlessly pushed the men and vehicles of the division, sometimes covering up to 250 kilometers in 24 hours. Oberkommando des Heeres, the high command, often had no clue where the division was at times. The Allies were equally clueless, as several times the division overran units whose enemy officers were shocked to discover Panzers in their rear area. Their commander, General Rommel, was at heart a storm officer who relied on his own battle instincts and a belief in rapid action. Currently Rothenburg only had firm locations and arrival times for perhaps half of his regiment, and division staff was equally confused.
His Ia, the operations officer, interrupted the Oberst’s thoughts. “Major Sieckenius has arrived, Herr Oberst.”
‘Thank God!, thought Rothenburg. Sieckenius was the first of his battalion commanders to arrive. Sieckenius in his black panzer-troop uniform made his way around tables crowded by soldiers of the regimental staff.
The two Panzer officers exchanged military courtesies and then Rothenburg got to the heart of the matter. “What shape are your Panzers in?”
The fighting in France and Belgium had been hard, and the driving in many ways worse. The division had left a trail of broken-down Panzers between their end point, Cherbourg, and the jump-off point in Germany hundreds of kilometers behind. Broken-down Panzers had to be recovered, and far too many sent back to the factory for overhaul of the engines, suspensions, transmissions, or sometimes all three. By the armistice, the division was little more than a shell with so many vehicles of all kinds out of action. It was also moving in good part on ‘liberated’ trucks, often fueled by ‘liberated’ petrol.
Sieckenius shrugged helplessly at the question. “I can take you to the railyard to see for yourself. In theory my companies are at full strength … ”
“But … ”
“But … the Panzers handed off to us from other units to make good our losses really could use depot time. I am certain no one intentionally gave us bad vehicles, but after the French campaign everyone needs rest and recovery. Only replacement tanks from the factories are in top shape.”
None of this was a surprise to Rothenburg. He had detailed reports, but hearing first hand was best. He still wished that it had been possible to stay back at their temporary base along the Somme rather than be here. Maybe he could have better handled the situation. General Rommel had been racing from one brush fire to the next, Romania, Malta, and now Libya. All the time he had been constantly taking officers and men from the division to make his various Kampfgruppen function. As a result, it had forced the regiment and brigade commanders to take on more of the administrative duties.
“I do have one bit of good news; I can confirm that all of the Pz-I’s are gone. Returned to the factory to be remade into tank destroyers. It’s just the Pz-II’s, IV’s and Czech 38T’s.”
The Third Reich’s first tank for mass production, the Mark I, was little more than a training toy, armed with two machine-guns and laughable armor. They had to use the little 6-ton panzers at times against British and French tanks four times larger, and armed with real guns. Some mornings Rothenburg wondered how did the Allies manage to bungle the French campaign so completely? Back to business ... “That’s good to hear, very good. Three types of tanks will be easier to maintain than four. Someone is starting to pay attention in Berlin. How are the new men settling in?”
“Those from our home garrison are settling in well, as to be expected. I put them together with some from the other companies, to form the new fourth company. The drafts from the Panzer Troop Schools at Wünsdorf and Munster have brought us to full strength. We will have to just see how trained they really are.”
Again, no shocks or surprises here. Rothenburg wished hopelessly for more time. The Oberst had no expectation that Rommel would be any less energetic in Africa, and there would be little time to really shake down the regiment as a single entity. You fight with the tool you had, not the one you wished for. “Good report, Major. Areas have been set aside for your men and vehicles. Loading instructions will be ready shortly.”
Next stop, Libya, then Egypt, and then who knows where? Rothenburg made a note to look again for a tourist guide book on Palestine to go with the ones he had already acquired for Egypt and Cairo. He had his orderly out looking for ones on Alexandria and Suez.
1700 local time; 1000 CET
28 August 1940
Harbor, Batavia (21st century Jakarta), Java, Dutch East Indies
Sukarno rejoiced in his good fortune. He had been exiled by the Dutch to a remote town as punishment for nationalist agitation. The security services had wished to impose further punishments to crimp his activities there, most of which amounted to pin-pricks like a touring nationalist children’s theater troupe. Sukarno’s attorneys had appealed this, necessitating his temporary residence in the colonial capital of Batavia for the duration of the appeal process. The result was preordained, but Europeans took great delight in following ‘procedures’ and ‘due process’. Two interlinked sets of shadow plays on the power realities.
The Japanese squadron had arrived some hours earlier. After a brief discussion with the Dutch Governor General, the Japanese ultimatum had been accepted as the Dutch had no serious way to fight
Japan. To ‘protect the East Indies from German aggression’, the Japanese 16th Division was to be allowed to occupy key points in Java. Other units of the Japanese 14th Area Army were to do the same in Sumatra and Borneo. The Dutch and Japanese agreed to make a joint request that Australia send militia units to defend the outlying islands such as Bali, Timor, Celebes, and New Guinea. The polite words hid nothing, but allowed the Dutch and their British protectors to save face. The oil, tin, and rice would henceforth go to Japan, to be paid for in IOU’s denominated in yen. The realignment of powers following the Nazi-Soviet alliance had left Japan adrift diplomatically. This was Japan’s answer to that situation, as seen through the lens of their seemingly endless China War.
The Dutch exile government was in London. Communication was spotty, as the direct lines through the Mediterranean were interdicted by the war. The British resident minister, the representative of the real power guaranteeing the nominal Dutch empire, had counseled against resistance. Britain’s fleet had suffered reverses off Malta and was not available for a new war with Japan. Britain’s armies and air forces were even more overstretched at this stage of the war. Rape was inevitable, so best submit to minimize the damage and loss of prestige among the natives.
All of this had leaked to the nationalists. The idiot whites ignored that servants had ears, minds, memories. Sukarno resolved to appeal directly to the new masters. The power game now had new players. Full independence would not come from the inevitable Japanese economic exploitation, but even a realignment of power in the interior provinces would advance the nationalist cause. Let the Dutch rule the cities, mines, and plantations … for now. Power came from the countryside and out of the barrel of a gun. Buy time for the nationalists to acquire strongholds. Unlike most Dutch, Sukarno spoke fluent Japanese. Most people preferred to do business in their own tongue. It was a start, or the chance of a start. Now he must somehow arrange a meeting …
1020 CET
28 August 1940
Gerbini Airfield complex, Sicily
Former Major Maurice was back from Malta, even if his machine-gun battalion was not. General Jodl needed him for a new training effort. As one of the deemed heroes of Malta, Jodl had had his command expanded by Heydrich and Halder to a two-regiment, six-battalion force. It was now the Kampfgruppe Jodl Special Artillery Force. A fresh wave of SA, HJ, and Baltic Germans was being sent to man the heavier weapons that had been abandoned for the Malta operations, including the near worthless 50-mm mortars. Maurice was now a full Oberst, in command of this second regiment. The SA had found a Freikorps veteran to command the Malta regiment, which would be shipped to Libya. Maurice was being given a real training cycle for his new troops. They would catch up after the fall of Egypt and be available for the Palestine campaign, so he had one hundred days, or a bit less as most of the troops were in transit but not yet arrived. Now he was here to argue about the obvious. “General, why those 50-mm pieces of shit? Can’t you get us more of the French 60-mm? Find some other fools on garrison duty to take the 50-mm!”
Jodl agreed. He also knew the limits of his current powers. “Train on the 50-mm. For now, it was all I could do to get full battalion kit on the four weapons we had. As things develop and my relationships with General von Manstein and Deputy Chancellor Heydrich firm up, I may be able to get the equipment changed on deployment. The French are producing the 60-mm again. So is Romania.”
“Deputy Chancellor? When was this announcement?”
“No public announcement yet. It will probably be stage-managed during the victory celebrations in Berlin when the Blue Max is brought back. The eyes-only announcement came over the teletype along with a flood of post-Malta redeployment orders. Schellenberg brought a written precis for me and Keller. It had all the correct signatures and official seals, so it is real. Seems none of the other three regard it as their job to pay attention to day-to-day governance. Almost as if they see Reichsführer Heydrich as their minion. A feeling he encourages. Three men concerned with their titles and personal rewards, who simply found the day-to-day grind of ruling to be demeaning, to be beneath them. Think of it as if the Reichsführer is Chancellor in the sense Bismarck was, but instead of one Kaiser we have a committee of three as head of state. Of course only one of the three does the head of state job in public. The Army sits in the shadows, a ruler whose rulership is known only to the elect among Germany’s senior leaders. One of whom is now you, as I’m on the list being kept in the know and you are my number two. Welcome to the ruling class.” Jodl paused. This discussion had turned in a dangerous direction. His absolution from prior sin was both tentative and quite reversible. “I will try to work though the hierarchies to get the 50-mm relegated to the new border divisions we are forming in the East. Trench units, like from the second half of the Great War. Units of lesser manpower and limited mobility, suitable for holding a certain number of kilometers of trenches and blockhouses. This will free up production for the 60-mm, whose superiority we will validate on campaign.”
Oberst Maurice adjusted his new headgear, this baseball cap. A few dozen had been hastily made at Gerbini. He saluted and left to do the impossible … again. At least the cap was lighter on the head than a steel helmet. This mattered in the Sicilian sun.
1100 British Double Summer Time/ 1100 Central European Time
28 August 1940
A rundown hotel near Westminster, London
Kim Philby’s handler was furious. Kim was over 15 hours late to a meeting. Kim was too exhausted to care. He’d been up since before dawn the day before, as Britain dealt with a day without a government. Winston had resigned over removing the Fleet from Alexandria. Had done another of his British lion no-retreats tirades. Had refused to accept that the War Cabinet overruling him was not an ‘issue of confidence’. So he quit three times, and the third time they let him go and ordered the Fleet to depart. As a face-saver, the submarines and half a dozen destroyers were left to die.
It had rapidly gone downhill from there. The War Cabinet wanted Halifax. The problem was that he was Lord Halifax, and as a “matter of principle” felt the PM had to sit in Commons. Halifax used that excuse. May even have been sincere. May have just not wanted the poisoned chalice – being the PM who would inherit the mess of a war he never believed in. Much of a day had been wasted on one appeal after another to duty to King and Country, with Halifax rejecting them all. This seemed to leave Eden or perhaps Lloyd George. Labor had qualms about both, and differing Tory factions disliked each. In a large sense, the war ran on autopilot until Atlee for Labor, and the Crown through minions, banged enough heads to get a somewhat chastened Churchill to again take office, but as first among equals. His days as El Supremo were over. His next resignation would be the last.
The handler was more concerned about some thing or other involving the East Indies, of all places. Philby said he’d do some digging, but odds said that whatever had happened out there at the edge of the world had been put aside in the battles over who sat in which chair at the next cabinet meeting. Philby asked his handler why Moscow Centre gave a damn about a bunch of Dutch islands? The handler was clueless. Moscow made demands of its espionage assets. It never explained.
Chapter 2
1200 hours CET
28 August 1940
Heydrich’s office, SS HQ, Prinz-Albrecht-Straße, Berlin, Germany
Deputy Chancellor and Reichsführer SS Heydrich was curious when his chief subordinate Schellenberg requested an hour for a private liaison conference on an unspecified topic. He valued the man’s creativity and zeal. What specific project had come to fruition? A special project he had apparently done without exactly getting prior permission. Heydrich chuckled to himself. Forgiveness was often easier than permission.
Schellenberg had the intercom turned off and the door safely closed. He then went into his portfolio and spread out paper money on Heydrich’s desk. US currency in denominations of $1, $2, $5, $10, and $20. Heydrich examined them carefully. They looked genuine. They felt
genuine. The obvious questions were, how and where? “Operation Andreas? Sturmbannführer Naujocks was liquidated during the purge.” Both men knew that while the charge against Naujocks was treason, the truth was that he was disliked. There was a needed quota of sacrificial goats, and his death helped fill a predetermined allocation of traitors to be unmasked, thus allowing deserving protégés promotions in rank and titles.
Operation Andreas was a plan SS HQ launched at the start of the war, to flood the United Kingdom with counterfeit bank notes and try to disrupt the British economy. Like many plans in the Third Reich, it went through fits and starts as Hitler or one of his inner circle would change their minds. A great deal of effort had been put into the plan to exactly copy the British currency - the rag paper was custom made, with specially chemically-treated water to match water in the UK, and a unit specializing in cryptography broke the British serial-number system. Heydrich had been a key backer of the program, but as one of the rulers of the Reich he simply didn’t have the time to do anything about the project, and thought it abandoned.
“Yes, Reichsführer. While Naujocks was a “traitor”, there was no reason to dispose of his staff; so I sent them to Ravensbrück and assigned them to the forgery unit.” Both men understood this as meaning the staff had simply not been designated for liquidation before quotas had been filled. “One of the currency forgers was ambitious, and decided to make a try at US currency. That got back to me and so I ordered the currency project restored. I had the special paper and ink made to order for US currency. The unit was moved to a new camp building, separate from the general forgery shop. We’ve run these through various Swiss banks without complaint. There is, of course, the problem with the same serial numbers repeating endlessly, but I have found a solution via the Hoover agency.”