General Franco in Spain wants Gibraltar.
Argentina would possibly take the opportunity to occupy the Falkland Islands.
To sum up, Major, if Hitler remained in control of Germany, we would be looking at a second World War.”
Silence greeted this remark.
Rommel now looked at Brooke. “Please do not think I am talking out of turn or divulging too much. I have been authorised by our Military Council to use my discretion in imparting any information that may ultimately lead to a better understanding between our two countries.
Furthermore, I am able to assure you that any request from Great Britain for intelligence sharing on the Italian and Japanese situations, will be looked at sympathetically.”
Brooke listened in amazement. This morning Britain and Germany had been at war – still were at war officially – now he was being given an almost explicit undertaking of future military co-operation by one of Germany’s leading Generals. What a day of surprises! One day he would write about this in his memoirs.
The General could not wait to get back to London and start planning. The whole of the British and Empire defence strategy needed to be drastically overhauled.
LONDON
Churchill delivered his statement to a joint sitting of both Houses of Parliament.
On announcing the news of Hitler’s death, it took a second or two to sink in and then the hundreds of members spontaneously jumped to their feet and gave the Prime Minister a standing ovation.
And so it went on as he made one startling disclosure after another. Parliament had never experienced a day like this in all their long history. Everyone was ecstatic!
When it came time to vote, the terms of the peace agreement were overwhelmingly approved. There was only one dissenting vote. This was from one of the oldest members, with a history strange voting. He pleaded that if the country stood firm against ‘the Kaiser’ it would all be over by Christmas.
His short speech had caused great mirth among many of the members. Embarrassment or pity among others.
After the close of business, shortly after one o’clock in the morning, many of the MPs felt the need for a celebratory drink and repaired to the Members Bar. The Prime Minister was among them. He had never been so popular in all his years as a Member of Parliament.
Sometime later, and perhaps slightly inebriated, he thought it was time to leave. As he made his way to the exit, he inadvertently bumped into a rather large woman, Mrs Bessie Braddock, the newly appointed Labour Member of Parliament for Liverpool. A staunch socialist, a virulent anti-tory, and a very outspoken lady. Mrs Braddock was not noted for her good looks - to put it mildly.
She looked at Churchill sternly. “Mr Churchill you are drunk, and what’s more, you are disgustingly drunk.”
Churchill was understandably in good humour. He looked at her and mischievously replied with a quote that would become famous and be repeated forever in his biographies.
“My dear, you are ugly, and what’s more, you are disgustingly ugly. But tomorrow, I shall be sober, whereas you will still be disgustingly ugly.”
He left behind him a bar rocked by gales of helpless laughter. One elderly gentleman was laughing so hard he wet himself. Another had a mild stroke and had to be taken to hospital. Even the good Mrs Braddock found it hilariously funny.
Good old Winston!
LISBON
The British and German delegates breakfasted together in the summer house in a relaxed atmosphere. It was a sign of the extraordinary rapidity of improvement in relations in only twenty four hours.
The final draft of the peace treaty had been signed late the previous evening. Each side was taking home a precious original.
Goodbyes were said, and both parties made their way separately to the airport. The Portuguese again provided a heavy escort.
Lord Halifax considered that he had established as warm a rapport as was possible with the reserved Baron von Altendorf. The military men believed they had gone further and that they now had a reasonably good working relationship with their opposite numbers, or as close as current circumstances permitted.
By late afternoon that day they back in their respective offices in London ready to attend debriefings. The fun was over.
BRITAIN
Before the defeat of the British army at the Battle for Dunkirk, the British public had been largely unaware of any impending disaster. After the disaster of Dunkirk, there was considerable unease at the way the war was developing. It was inevitable that the fear of a German invasion would be in everyone’s mind.
The news of peace with Germany and the death of Adolf Hitler was greeted with deliriously happy crowds surging onto the streets of every city, town and village in Britain. Many pubs throughout the country were drunk dry! In London, an immense throng gathered in front of Buckingham Palace joyously singing and dancing. They were greeted from the balcony of the palace by the Royal Family accompanied by the Prime Minister.
It was Winston Churchill’s finest hour.
BERLIN
The Military Council had debated endlessly on the subject of when to release the news of Hitler’s death. They had to tread very carefully.
The standing of the Fuhrer was unbelievably high in the estimation of the majority of the German public. To them he was the architect of German stability and prosperity following the chaos after the Great War, and then the misery of the depression caused by the Wall Street crash.
The enlargement of Germany by the absorption of Austria and Czechoslovakia had greatly enhanced his prestige. The lightning and incredibly successful campaigns by the German Army against Poland, Denmark, Norway, Holland and Belgium were hailed as further evidence of his genius.
Even though he was already dead before the large allied army had surrendered at Dunkirk, this victory was also attributed to his unerring direction of the war.
The man was revered throughout Germany.
The dilemma that now faced the Military Council was that it was they themselves - the German Armed Forces to be more precise - that had assassinated him.
From the beginning, Hitler and the Nazi Party had been looked upon with suspicion by the German Military. They were nothing but a gang of rabble-rousers and political opportunists, in their opinion.
Although the antipathy towards the Nazis diminished somewhat in later years as the economy improved and the country re-armed under Hitler’s leadership, the Fuhrer’s military adventurism had created a deep-seated feeling of unease among senior officers. Where would it end? Where was it taking them?
It did not take long before a secret anti-Hitler opposition emerged. This became stronger after the invasion of Poland. Rumours of atrocities against the Jews and Poles, resulted in this opposition group starting to look at contingency plans for the elimination of Hitler and his clique. After considering all the alternatives they had concluded that this was the only way to protect Germany from ultimate disaster.
Immediately after the invasion of Denmark and Norway, The Army Commander-in-Chief, General von Brauchitsch, had been called to Hitler’s headquarters for consultations on the final plans for the invasion of the Low Countries and France. It was here that Hitler informed him in confidence that he was going to ask for plans to be drawn up for the invasion of the Soviet Union. He had already named it Operation Barbarossa. He anticipated launching this later in the year.
Von Brauchitsch was shocked. What madness is this! When he expressed his grave misgivings, Hitler was not interested in the least. He knew what was best for Germany. He frostily informed his General that he was disappointed in him.
Walther von Brauchitsch was fifty nine years old. He had been born into an aristocratic military family, and had now served in the army for thirty five years, having fought extensively in the Great War. His good manners and dignified bearing had been learnt in his early years at the Kaiser’s imperial court. He personally disliked Nazism, and was the uncle of two prominent members of the German resistance against Hitler.
From the moment Hitler disclosed his plans for Russia, the conspirators were imbued with a sense of urgency. Various plans were considered, and discarded. They were getting desperate! But the security around Hitler was tighter than a duck’s arse!
Then help came from a most unexpected direction.
In early May, a day before the invasion of the Low Countries, Von Brauchitsch received a visit from the second most powerful man in Germany, Field Marshall Hermann Goering. He had asked for a personal meeting of just the two of them.
The General had no great liking for the flamboyant and overweight Minister of Aviation, whom he knew to have some sort of drug dependency. Goering had been a distinguished pilot in the Great War. He had also been one of Hitler’s earliest supporters, but nevertheless was generally considered to be something of a political moderate. A closely guarded secret was that his younger brother, Albert, despised the Nazis and was in active resistance to their regime.
Over coffee the two men discussed various aspects of the impending military operation. Von Brauchitsch wondered where this was going? This had already been done. Several times!
Finally Goering got to the point.
“Walther, the real reason I am here is that there is a grave matter I must discuss with you. A delicate matter.”
The General looked at him and waited.
“This latest idea of the Fuhrer’s to invade Russia fills me with foreboding. I have tried my best to dissuade him from it, but he is adamant. He tolerates no opposition to his schemes. He accepts no advice. He even threatened to dismiss me from all my offices if I did not accept his dictates and obey orders without question.”
He leaned forward and in a low voice said, “Between the two of us I am uneasy about his state of mind. Success seems to have gone to his head. He is not the same man that he was a year ago. Leaders who brook no dissent are doomed to be surrounded by sycophants. That is not a recipe for success.”
Such talk was treasonous. If this reached Hitler’s ears, his retribution would be swift and merciless. Von Brauchitsch said nothing, just continued to look at Goering, who was now sweating like a pig.
He continued. “I came here to warn you that the ‘chicken farmer’” – a derogatory term for Heinrich Himmler, the feared head of the Gestapo, the secret police – “has some idea that there may be an underground movement opposed to Hitler. And that it may be centred around the army and air force.”
Himmler at some earlier stage of his life had tried his hand at chicken farming – without success. Hence the nickname.
Goering now seemed to be searching for the right words. He paused for a moment.
“A private source of mine has intimated that I should talk with you, Walther.”
He continued. “Himmler and his gang want to amass all of the power into their own hands. They want to be Hitler’s favourites and confidantes. To do this they have to eliminate all potential opposition, particularly in the military. This includes you and me.”
Von Brauchitsch had always considered Himmler dangerous. The secret plan was that he would be dealt with immediately after the Fuhrer. There was no way the man could be allowed to live. He was thinking furiously. How much did Goering know? What, if anything, did Himmler suspect? More importantly, what action should be taken?
Goering hesitated no longer. He took the plunge. “For Germany’s sake we have to act.” He held the General with a steady gaze. “Are we together in this?” He mopped the sweat from his brow with an embroidered silk handkerchief.
Von Brauchitsch hesitated a moment longer, and then committed himself. He gave an imperceptible nod to Goering. They were now co-conspirators. Their lives were now in each other’s hands.
Goering was immensely relieved. While he was reasonably sure of his facts, and the General’s opposition to Hitler, he had taken an immense risk so far. Now he could disclose his plan.
“While it pains me to say this, I think it would be an act of foolishness to allow Hitler to live.” He paused, “My thoughts are that his death must be made to look like an attempted coup by Himmler and his cronies. The Nazi hierarchy should then be immediately rounded up and dealt with. The public would accept this.”
Von Brauchitsch answered. “We have planned something similar to this. Selected army units will arrest the ‘Nazi plotters’ before any of them realise what has happened. They will be tried, found guilty, and executed.” His face was grim. “We, the army, have no love for the summary justice methods of the Nazis, but in these particular circumstances we can see no practical alternative, however distasteful the whole thing is.”
“Good. I am glad to see we are of the same mind. Obviously the biggest single problem we face is taking out Hitler. We are both aware that his security is second to none.”
Goering let a few moments go by. He wanted to surprise this dour General. “There is something you don’t know.”
The General waited.
“Hitler has a double.” That had the General interested!
“For the past year it was found on occasions, that it was expedient for the Fuhrer to be in two different places at the same time. An impersonator was found. He was also used where there was a risk of an attempt on the Fuhrer’s life. The resemblance between the two is amazing, and Baum, that is his name, Max Baum, has perfected Hitler’s voice and mannerisms to the point where their own mothers would not be able to tell them apart.”
Von Brauchitsch was astonished. He remained silent.
“There is something else you don’t know. On the twenty seventh of this month, the Swiss Finance Minister is making a secret visit to Germany to discuss a loan that has been requested by Germany. The Minister will be staying at my country estate, Carinhall. The evening before the discussions on the loan, I have arranged a banquet in the Minister’s honour. The Fuhrer has requested to be at the banquet.”
Now things were getting really interesting!
Over the next half hour Goering explained the workings of his plan. He had an answer for all von Brauchtisch’s queries and criticisms.
It seemed that Goering’s mansion outside Berlin, Carinhall, contained a network of secret passages, basically known only to Goering who had had them incorporated into the design for his home for his own perverse reasons. One of these passages allowed access to the bedroom that had always been used by Hitler on his previous visits.
The plan was for two of Goering’s personal bodyguards, both big strong men, absolutely devoted and loyal to him, to sneak into the bedroom while Hitler slept, and simply suffocate him with a pillow. They would then spirit his body away, again by secret passage, into the basement room in which was housed the large furnace that heated the huge mansion in the winter months. There the body would be burnt until it was reduced to ash.
Max Baum, now impersonating Hitler, would take his place in bed.
So far, so good.
Early the next morning Goering would arrive outside the ‘Fuhrer’s’ bedroom to accompany him to a light breakfast before Hitler was due to leave on his return journey to Berlin. The two SS guards guarding the bedroom, and the two additional air force guards supplied by Goering, would allow him to enter. The bedroom had been guarded constantly by them throughout the night.
A dishevelled Baum would still be in bed. He would tell Goering that he was feeling most unwell. Goering would immediately call in the SS guards, and in front of the fake Hitler, inform the guards that their Fuhrer was sick and that they were to arrange for Hitler’s personal physician, Doctor Theodor Morell, to be brought to Carinhall from Berlin. Immediately! Goering would remind the SS guards of their oath of loyalty to Hitler, and warn them to keep their mouths shut!
Doctor Morell was known by Goering to be something of a charlatan and quack. A man obsessed with unconventional treatments. Using dubious methods he had been lucky enough to cure Hitler of some minor but troubling ailments in the past, and by doing so, had gained Hitler’s confidence. He was an opportunist more concerned with money and stat
us than providing medical assistance to people in need. He had an interest in a company that made a strange medicine called Mormutflor. One of the main ingredients of this was extracted from the faecal matter of a Bulgarian peasant. Morell prescribed this on a regular basis to Hitler for some digestive problems. It will never be known if the good doctor knew he was making Hitler eat shit.
Hitler also suffered from chronic flatulence. In his early forties he frequently had violent attacks of farting. By the mid-1930s he was the ruler of Germany and was still farting like a sick sumo wrestler. He wanted to control the whole world but could not control his own arse. Desperate not to become known as Farty Adolf, he accepted another quack prescription from Doctor Morell, called Doctor Koester’s Anti Gas Pills. They didn’t help much. Their promised relief was just so much ‘hot air’.
The German Peace Page 6
