by Ward Wagher
“We would have to use Italian bottoms,” Goering said. “I am sure the Regia Marina could provide some limited escort. Our intelligence on Allied activity in the Persian Gulf is limited.”
Kirche had brought a world atlas to the meeting, and Schloss paged through it. “I think we would have to land in Kuwait, which is yet another sovereign state.”
“And one that is not too appreciative of Ambassador Grobba,” Ribbentrop said.
Schloss leaned back and rubbed his mouth with his hand. He had forgotten to bring a pencil to the meeting and tapped the tabletop with his fingernails.
“Meine Herren, there appear to be no good solutions,” he said, looking around the room.
It grew quiet as the group considered the discussion.
Schloss finally snorted. “I assume everyone thinks I just stated the obvious.”
There was a quiet chuckle around the table as the group decided to interpret his comment as a slight bit of levity.
“I have a thought,” Ribbentrop said. “Perhaps more on the order of a suggestion.”
Schloss looked at the foreign minister. “You have the floor, Joachim.”
“Actually, two suggestions. First of all, in this part of the world, they seem to change governments about as often as they change underwear.”
“Once every two years, you mean?” Goering asked.
The laughter was genuine, this time.
“Exactly,” Ribbentrop answered with a grin. “In the case of the Iraqis, let me suggest we not pursue things further at the moment. Eventually, someone will realize the revenue they are missing from the railroad and the oil fields. They will kick Muhammod out and put Ghazi back in. Then we slide enough force into Baghdad quietly that we can keep things stable.”
“That’s a very pragmatic approach,” Schloss commented. “And, I think that may be the approach we are forced to adopt. But, it does not solve our immediate problem.”
“And for my second suggestion,” Ribbentrop continued, “I would like your permission to approach the Americans about buying oil from them.”
It grew very quiet again in the room as everyone looked at Schloss to see his reaction. He continued tapping his fingernails on the tabletop as he considered what Ribbentrop had said. Finally, he spoke.
“I think I like it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
August 4, 1942; 9 AM
Reich Chancellor’s Office
Reich Chancellery
Berlin, Germany
“What do we do about Canaris?” Rainer asked.
Schloss put down his coffee cup and considered the question. He looked around the office and idly wondered if it would be possible to redecorate the place in a less heroic meme. The Nazis had seemed intent on creating their own mythology, and with Speer’s help, had designed some very grotesque monuments to their ego. He was now having to deal with what his histories would call the good Germans.
“It is a bit of a stretch to call his activities treasonous,” Schloss said. “When Morell brought this nonsense to him, he started a quiet investigation. It is not clear to me he was actively plotting against the government. Following Himmler’s death, he seemed to be on our side.”
“Canaris was not your friend,” Rainer argued. “You could tell over the past several weeks he was increasingly at odds with you.”
“Yes, and I don’t understand that. He and I had the same goals. It’s like this came out of the clear blue.”
“As long as he is alive, he is dangerous.”
Schloss took another sip of coffee to give himself time to think. “Let me ask you this, Karl; if Morell had brought this to you, what would you have done?”
“I would have quietly taken care of it. To actually consider something as preposterous as this… well, I don’t know what Canaris was thinking.”
I think Karl may be more ruthless than I. Schloss thought. We must get ourselves back to the rule of law in this country, or we are all in trouble.
“Where is Canaris now?” Schloss asked.
“He is under house arrest at his home.”
“Let us do this, then. He is to consider himself retired from military and government service. He will get his pension. Warn him that he is not to speak or write of these things and that he is not to associate with either Morell or Brandt. He can enjoy a quiet retirement, and we won’t bother him.”
“Are you sure that is not being too generous?” Rainer asked. “He could cause great trouble for you.”
“No, I am not sure. But if you take him to the basement of the SS headquarters and put a bullet in his head, it will make us no better than those butchers we replaced last December.”
“What about Morell and Brandt?”
“Same thing. You need to keep an eye on all of them, Karl. After what Brandt did to the psychiatric patients in this country, he deserves a rope.”
Dr. Brandt had supervised the liquidation of a large portion of the mental patients in Germany.
“The problem with Brandt is that most of the shrinks in the country agree with him,” Rainer said.
“Precisely. And that is another problem we will have to deal with sooner or later. Let’s get this problem settled down, and move on to the next one.”
“Very well, Herr Schloss. Next item.”
Schloss raised a hand. “Very well. Go ahead.”
“That team we sent to the Congo has acquired a shipment of uranium ore. They are preparing to ship it back here.”
“That’s good news.”
“The interesting thing is that they ran into an American team doing the same thing.”
“That is definitely interesting,” Schloss said. “So, it appears Herr Doctor Heisenberg has some competition.”
“So, it would seem.”
“It would be helpful if we could get somebody inside the American project, so we could stay abreast of their progress.”
“I am working on that.”
“It may be Canaris’ spectacular fall was a blessing in disguise. He had not been able to get anybody significant into the American government… or anywhere else over there, for that matter.”
“True, but I haven’t succeeded yet, either.”
“I’ll give you another week, Karl.”
Rainer looked back with a crooked grin. “Your confidence in my abilities is heartening.”
“Thank you. Next item,” Schloss continued. “We haven’t talked about this for a while. How are things going in your work to track down the renegade Nazis?”
“I have started calling them The Munich Faction because their activities seem to be centered there. They have a printing press sequestered somewhere. We have been unable to track it down.”
“Any ideas on who the leadership is?”
“No. Whoever it is has been very smart. Tactically, he seems to be much better than Heydrich. They are active, but keep a very low profile.”
“That bothers me just a little bit,” Schloss commented.
“It frustrates me,” Rainer replied. “It is too slippery for me to get my hands around. I am hopeful that someone will make a mistake and allow us to roll up their network.”
“I guess all we can do is wait and watch. Or send the American girl down there, again.”
Schloss watched for Rainer’s reaction.
“She nearly got killed last time,” Rainer exclaimed. “In fact, if she hadn’t been thinking quickly, they would have gotten her.”
“Are you still seeing her?” Schloss asked.
“We have a lunch and a dinner about once per week,” he replied. “I would like things to go farther, but as you know, there are complications.”
“Don’t let her get away from you, Karl. I don’t know what I would do without Gisela.”
“That’s another problem I have not gotten my arms around.”
“Literally,” Schloss said.
“Well, yes.”
“I cannot pretend to give you advice on your love life. For me, it just sort of happened.�
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“And everyone is very happy for you,” Rainer said. “Now, are you ready for our other problem children?”
“The English?” Schloss asked.
“Things have been very quiet across the channel. The queen is putting a lot of pressure on Churchill to settle the war. It seems she made some very pointed comments during her last weekly meeting with the prime minister, and someone in her group leaked it to the press. We wonder if some of the cracks are beginning to show in the parliament.”
“Do you think Peter’s propaganda work is having an effect?”
“It hard to say. I suspect the English do not pay a lot of attention to what we say. In the past, our material was pretty ridiculous anyway. Peter has been working hard to improve the credibility of our news people, but that process can take years, so he says.”
“He has a tough job.”
“I’m glad I don’t have that job,” Rainer said. “Dealing with criminal lowlife is much more tangible.”
“And when we emptied the camps, I was surprised we didn’t have more trouble from the common criminals who were mixed in with everyone else.”
“That surprised me, too. There has been some trouble, of course, but I think because the unemployment has dropped off, they are finding it more profitable to work.”
“One would hope so,” Schloss sighed. “But, back to the English. Hermann is agitating for us to take out the Forth bridge in retaliation for Müngsten.”
“I would hesitate to do something at this point. We came out of the Lisbon conference looking very good around the world. There was some blowback on Churchill after the Müngsten raid. I think we need to have a couple of very attractive targets picked out, and forces primed in case the English try something else.”
“That was my thinking. We got a little sloppy on that one.”
“What if we cannot bring the English to the table?” Rainer asked.
“That’s one of the items that keeps me up at night,” Schloss replied. “The obvious answer is that we would have to go in and beat them. I’m not sure we have that ability. They have a moat around their island, and it’s guarded by the Royal Navy.”
“What about our new generation of weapons?”
“I have to assume the English are busy developing their next generation of weapons, too. I fear the stalemate will just continue at a higher level.” Schloss shook his head. “I think we must remain patient. Churchill will eventually leave office, and whoever replaces him will be much more amenable to negotiation. I hope.”
“Queen Margaret is our best ally over there.”
“Yes. Yes, she is.”
§ § §
August 5, 1942; 1 PM
Lechfield Airbase
near Augsburg, Germany
Heinrich Schloss climbed down the steps from the Condor and shook hands, first with Hermann Goering, and then Major Werner Thierfelder, the base commander.
“It seems you have come up in the world since my last visit, Major,” Schloss said as he shook the man’s hand.
The major looked flattered. “I am honored the Reich Chancellor remembered. Your last visit was...”
He trailed off, not knowing what to say.
“Frightening,” Schloss supplied the word.
During Schloss's previous trip to the airfield, Rainer had arranged for him to travel by automobile during the final stretch of the trip and sent his airplane ahead. It was shot down by Reinhard Heydrich during the final approach to the airfield. While this had resulted in the death of Heydrich and the capture of several of his partisans, it was a frightening time for Schloss.
“Yes, Herr Reich Chancellor. But, we honored to have you visit us again.”
They walked over to the Horch 901 open staff car, driven by a Luftwaffe corporal. Two other cars stood ready for Schloss's guards. They drove over to the flight line where two rows of Messerschmitt Me-262 Swallow jet fighters stood. Standing at attention in front of each aircraft was the pilot and mechanic. Leaving the cars, Schloss, Thierfelder, and Goering walked the line. Schloss carefully shook the hand of each pilot and mechanic. He worked at giving more than a proforma greeting to each man. They then moved to the reviewing stand.
The group of pilots fired up their engines, and took off, one by one from the airfield. A few minutes later, with a roar, they flew across the airfield at two-hundred meters in formation. They then flew over singly and in pairs. Finally, the group landed in an organized fashion, returning to their original parking spaces.
“That was very impressive,” Schloss commented. “One forgets how loud those jet engines are. It seems you are doing a fine job of training the pilots as well as developing the aircraft.”
“This has been a difficult challenge, and the Major has done well,” Goering commented.
“Thank you, Herr Reich Chancellor and Herr Reichsmarshall,” Thierfelder said. “I am honored with the confidence you have placed in me.”
“Have you lost any pilots, so far?” Schloss asked.
“We have lost two,” the major replied. “We lost a pilot early in the program. He suffered a double flame-out and tried to glide back to the airfield.”
“I gather he did not make it.”
“No, Sir. This is a wonderful airplane, but it glides about as well as a brick. We now instruct our pilots to get out under those circumstances. It is easier to replace the airplane than the pilot.”
Schloss nodded. “I appreciate your sentiment. I want our pilots to live to a ripe old age. What happened in the second accident?”
“That is more mysterious. The pilot was conducting dive tests, and the aircraft disintegrated in the air. We have found that the controls tend to freeze at ultra-high speeds. The dive brakes can usually pull the aircraft back to controllability.”
So, they are already experiencing the problems of sonic flight, Schloss thought. And, I cannot help them in any meaningful way.
“While we have to exercise care with the engines,” Goering commented, “the airframe seems very reliable. With some caveats, I believe the aircraft is combat ready.”
Schloss looked around. “I am very proud of the efforts everyone has made with this project. The governing council will soon discuss our mission with these fine aircraft.”
“And we have one other item to show you, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Goering said with a beaming smile.
Schloss looked at the major and the Reichsmarshall with a smile. “And what would that be?”
“We will travel over to that hangar there.”
They climbed back into the staff cars and drove a half kilometer across the airfield to an isolated hangar. When they halted, the hangar doors began sliding open. Schloss stared at the grey-painted beast crouched alone inside. Four jet engines were spaced across the wings.
“That looks like one of the Arado bombers,” he said. “But it is different.”
“Correct, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Goering said with a smug look. “We are using it as a testbed for the Junkers Jumo engines. The BMW engines are performing satisfactorily, and the Junkers people have put a lot of effort into the Jumos over the past year. They claim the engines will perform well.”
Schloss walked into the hangar for a closer look and stood with his hands on his hips. Goering and Thierfelder followed.
“What is the reason for spacing the engines on the wings like this?” Schloss asked.
“Part of it is for testing different configurations,” Goering said. “Also, I think a major engine failure would not then affect the others.”
“Has it flown?”
“No. We have done static testing and taxi testing. The Junkers people would like to remove the engines for inspection at this stage. So, we will soon replace the engines and then we will have the flight tests.”
“I’m impressed,” Schloss said. “I didn’t realize the Arado program was this far along.”
“The airframe has been ready for a year, Sir,” Thierfelder said. “And, since the entire BMW output is needed for the
Swallow, we had to wait until Junkers felt like they were ready.”
Schloss looked at Goering. “What is your opinion, Hermann? Are these engines ready to fly?”
Goering raised an eyebrow and gave Schloss a sheepish smile. “I suppose we won’t really know until the flight testing really gets going. The ground tests were encouraging.”
Schloss turned to the two men with him. “Herr Reichsmarshall, Herr Major, you have given us some good news today. Thank you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
August 4, 1942; 11 PM
Near Peenemünde, Germany
Misty Simpson got out of the 1938 Opel Kadett and looked at the flat tire at the left front of the car. She swore under her breath, remembering her mother’s dictum that ladies were not to be uncouth. However, she was sure her mother had not conceived of her being in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night with a flat tire. Worse yet, it was beginning to rain.
She was angry at the situation but mostly was angry with Gordon Smoke, the American Chargé d'affaires for refusing her the use of the consulate’s 1940 Buick Roadmaster for this trip. He claimed that he had an appointment in Berlin this same evening, and the Opel would be fine for her needs.
She had heard that the Germans were conducting some interesting military experiments in the Peenemünde area, and she wanted to learn more about it. It was certainly something Director Donovan would be interested in knowing about. She had been unable to get photographs or even more details of the activity from the small string of contacts she had, so there was nothing for it, but to investigate on her own.
She looked both ways down the darkened road and decided she was going to have to change the tire herself. She had done it before, but she would get filthy in the process and probably blow any chances of seeing whatever the Germans were doing here. Coming prepared, she had a flashlight, in addition to her camera. And she had thought to bring a raincoat, which would not hurt things at all, given the circumstances.
She walked to the rear of the little car and wrenched the trunk open. The spare tire was mounted on the outside of the trunk lid, and she expected to find a jack and wrench in the trunk. After pointing the flashlight in every nook and corner of the trunk she concluded there were no tools here. She thought of a few more bad words she had overheard from her father.
