Improbable Nazi (Parallel Nazi Book 2)

by Ward Wagher

  Schloss nodded to acknowledge the point.

  Canaris sat with his hands folded in front of him. He raised an index finger.

  “Admiral?” Schloss said.

  “Perhaps we should ask ourselves why the Americans felt the need to inquire about purchasing arms from us. They must know this would be controversial on both sides of the Atlantic.”

  “They obviously cannot go toe to toe with the Japanese surface fleet,” Peter said. “This would buy them a way to hurt the Japanese prior to getting their surface ships in place.”

  “That is certainly a consideration,” Goering said. “But you had something else in mind Admiral?”

  “We might consider the strength of the Japanese merchant marine,” Canaris said. “The success of their navy is really built on top of the logistics capabilities of their commercial bottoms. They took a page out of the book the English wrote on mercantile development.”

  “You think the Americans want to whittle down their shipping, then?” Rainer asked.

  Canaris seemed deep in thought, and eventually answered. “I think that must be considered.”

  “This will drive us from being neutral in the conflict to a de facto alliance with the Americans,” Goering said. “Does that not militate against your strategy, Herr Schloss?”

  There seemed to be an understated gasp around the table at Goering’s apparent effrontery.

  “What strategy would that be?” Schloss asked.

  “Why, that we avoid entangling ourselves in the Pacific, of course.”

  “Of course,” Schloss said.

  It grew quiet in the room. Schloss looked around.

  “Is no one going to try to saw off the limb our Reichsmarshall has crawled out upon?”

  “Herr Reichschancellor, I believe the Reichsmarshall was profoundly disrespectful to you,” Rainer said indignantly.

  “Gently, Karl,” Schloss said. “In this room, everyone must be able to say exactly what they are thinking. I do not have a corner on the world’s knowledge, Mein Herren. I am counting on you to keep me from making mistakes.”

  “You have not made many, so far,” Ribbentrop said.

  “I have been extraordinarily lucky. No, we have been lucky. It is imperative that we examine the issues before us and come to decisions on governing the nation. And, by the way, we need to identify potential leaders and train them in decision-making. We will not be around forever.”

  “I still think we would be foolish to sell our U-Boats to the Americans,” Goering said.

  “I have a suggestion,” Schreiber said.

  “And what would that be, Peter?” Schloss asked.

  “Can we put together a working group to take a look at this? They should identify all the risks as well as the benefits to doing something like this. Meanwhile we can tell the Americans we are considering their request and will give them an answer as soon as reasonable.”

  “A very good idea,” Goering said.

  “Who would be in the group?” Ribbentrop asked.

  Schloss tilted his head as he studied the group. “Might I suggest that you each select someone from your shops who are familiar with the situation and give them a few days to come up with a recommendation?”

  “That is not a lot of time,” Rainer said.

  “I don’t believe the Americans have a lot of time,” Schloss replied. “Their situation is close to desperate.”

  “I thought you said the Japanese would not be able to conquer the American mainland,” Goering said. “If we let them deal with this by themselves, it will give us time to set our house in order.”

  “A point,” Ribbentrop said.

  Schreiber tapped the table with his index finger.

  “Peter?” Schloss said.

  “On the other hand, if we help them out of their bind, perhaps they will influence the English to come to terms with us.”

  “Also, a point,” Ribbentrop commented.

  “Come on, Joachim, you can’t have it both ways,” Goering said.

  “Okay, okay,” Ribbentrop held up his hands in a placating fashion. “It just seems to me that both sides make sense.”

  “And since the Americans want to buy a dozen boats, are you going to suggest to Herr Schloss that he sell them twenty-five, since he is obviously in favor of it?”

  “Hermann,” Schloss said softly.

  “Yes, Herr Reichschancellor?” Goering began to look a bit nervous.

  “I have not made up my mind on this. That is why we are having the discussion.”

  “I meant no disrespect.”

  “I know you didn’t.” Schloss felt a sudden pang at his lie, in spite of the patent dishonesty of the Reichsmarshall. He wondered why it bothered him.

  Never forget, he thought to himself, Goering is not your friend. He serves himself first of all.

  He looked around the table. “Very well. Please contact Willem with your selections for the working group. Either he will lead it, or will know who the leader will be. What’s the next item on the agenda?”

  “The Palestine Security project,” Kirche said.

  “Ah yes,” Schloss said. “As you know, we have had increasing problems with an Arabian group terrorizing the Jewish settlers in Palestine. For some reason, they have access to heavy weapons and the Jews cannot handle them. They asked us to intervene.”

  “That is an unsettled area,” Goering said. “We have not completely secured North Africa.”

  “Exactly,” Schloss said. “I suspect the English are slipping arms to this group. They are very good at attacking and then melting into the desert.”

  “I could perhaps spring a division loose from Rommel to go after this group of criminals,” Goering said. “It would slow down our offensive, though.”

  “And that would be a bit of a risk, I’d think,” Schreiber commented. “If we divide our forces we might open the English up to an opportunity.”

  “I have a couple of platoons of Waffen-SS that might be right for this project,” Rainer said.

  “Explain,” Schloss said.

  “I have been disbanding the armed groups in the SS as fast as possible,” Rainer said. “I am not entirely sure of the loyalty of the men in these platoons, but I thought they might be useful for foreign excursions.”

  Schloss looked at Rainer. “Foreign Excursions?”

  “Such as we are talking about, here. A small group to slip into a country, dispatch the Arabians and return to Germany.”

  “Herr Reichschancellor,” Goering interrupted, “we have the Brandenburgers. They specialize in this sort of thing. And they are loyal Germans.”

  Schloss glanced over at Canaris, who raised an eyebrow. The Brandenburgers were special forces units generally attached to military intelligence.

  Schloss drummed his fingers on the table for a few moments. “The Brandenburgers, then,” he said. “Hermann, you and Admiral Canaris and get together and decide how to manage the operation.”

  “Of course, Herr Reichschancellor,” Goering said. Canaris merely nodded.

  “Anything else, Willem?” Schloss asked.

  “No, Herr Reichschancellor.”

  “Very well, I’m sure we all have mounds of work waiting for us in our offices. Let’s consider ourselves adjourned. Karl, a word with you, please.”

  As the group pulled themselves to their feet, Goering quickly made his way to the head of the table.

  “Might I have a moment, Herr Reichschancellor?”

  “Of course,” Schloss nodded.

  They stepped to the side.

  “Herr Schloss, I wish to apologize if I was too forward in the meeting today.”

  “No apology necessary,” Schloss said. “You and I need to encourage the others to speak freely. If they see you getting in my face and lightning does not come out of heaven to consume you, they might have a little more courage.”

  Goering chuckled nervously. “I have no desire to come to that kind of ending.”

  “What I do ask of you, Herm
ann, is that you do not put down the others in the group when they are expressing an opinion.”

  “You were speaking of my comments to the foreign minister.”

  “Yes, that is it exactly. I am working to encourage him to tell me what he really thinks.”

  “The man is an idiot. All he does is suck up to you.”

  “Believe it or not,” Schloss said, “he knows he is not the world’s best diplomat. But we have an understanding… much as you and I do.”

  Goering looked to one side, and then the other as Schloss stared at him. Finally, he spoke. “I take the Reichschancellor’s point.”

  “Thank you, Herr Reichsmarshall. Have a good afternoon.”

  Rainer waited off to the side as Goering spoke with Schloss. After the rotund man left the room Rainer eased over to Schloss.

  “Are you going to have to do something about Goering?” Rainer asked.

  “I hope not. I am pretty sure our big Hermann knows where his limits are to be found. I trust you are watching him, Karl.”

  Rainer nodded. “We have a man on his guard troop, and also another in his office.”

  “Good. What was it you needed of me?”

  “The Waffen-SS troop would be a good group to send into Palestine. If they get wiped out, it’s no great loss. Most of them are criminals.”

  “True, but I have another job for them,” Schloss said. “Colonel Heisenberg has informed me that he has located a supply of raw materials for his project in the Congo. He feels it would be advantageous to secure a supply for his use.”

  Schloss had commissioned an organization under Werner Heisenberg to conduct research on possible atomic energy sources. Rainer had arranged for nuclear scientists around Germany to be assigned to the project.

  “And you want to send in the Waffen group?”

  “Your organization is much better at compartmentalizing things than the military. Goering’s security is a joke.”

  “One of those problems for another day?” Rainer asked.

  “Exactly. I would like you to talk to Heisenberg and set up an operation. Hold it close, Karl. We can’t let the Americans or the Russians know what we’re doing.”

  “Or the English,” Rainer replied.

  Schloss just looked at him.

  “Oh. Right.”

  That was interesting, Schloss thought, Karl normally doesn’t miss things like that.

  “Very well. Keep me informed on your progress. Let me know if you run into difficulties.”

  Rainer stepped to attention. “I will take action immediately.”

  “Thanks, Karl. Anything else?”

  “A couple of things, if you have a moment.”

  “Of course.”

  “First of all, have you given thought to a new leader for the party?”

  “I really haven’t had the time to give it a lot of thought,” Schloss said. “Do you have someone in mind?”

  “Sigmund Dresser.”

  Okay, the little rascal has trapped me again. I have no idea who this Dresser is, and it’s clear I should know him. This universe or world, or whatever it is, had enough differences from the one I came from that I am going to get tripped up sooner or later.

  “Tell you what, Karl. Gather the dossiers on the three top candidates and we can discuss them in our next meeting. I agree we cannot leave the position open. There are too many slimy criminals out there who would take this as a golden opportunity.”

  “I shall do so,” Rainer said.

  Rainer clearly thinks I just put him in his place, Schloss thought. That is probably not a bad thing.

  “And what was the other thing?”

  “The Gauleiter in Alsace,” he said.

  Schloss swore. “I had forgotten about him. At this point, let’s wait until we get a new Partieleiter, and let him take care of the problem.”

  “That’s cruel.”

  “Yes, it is. But I do not have the time to deal with every corrupt party official. This will afford us an early opportunity to study the performance of the new leader.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good. Let’s get out of here.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  January 16, 1942; 11 AM

  Lyons, France

  “Yvette! Yvette? Where are you?”

  Sergeant Stepan Gottlieb whipped his head around at the anguished cry. He was part of the army group tasked with managing the embarkation of the Jews for Israel. The task was made difficult because three ships were loading at the same time. And the woman crying out had apparently lost her little girl in the confusion. He shook his head and sighed deeply. His day was now measurably more complex.

  “All right, let’s everyone halt right where you are!” he bellowed.

  He marched over to the distraught woman. “Who are you missing?”

  “My little Yvette. She is five years old.”

  “Everyone, look about you for an unattached child,” he bellowed again.

  He was once again amazed at how a group as well behaved as these Jews could screw a perfectly good operation into the ground. He intellectually knew it was not their fault, but it had been a long week and he was exhausted.

  He turned to the mother again. “You will need to step out of the queue so we can search for your child.”

  “Oh, please,” she cried. “My husband is dead. She is all I have, my little Yvette.”

  Gottlieb softened. He had two small children at home and had recurring nightmares about losing them when out in public. He put his hand on her shoulder. “We will do our best. No one should lose their child. What does she look like?”

  “She is very thin and has blond hair. Her eyes are blue.”

  An Aryan Jew, he thought to himself. I am glad the madness against the Jews is over. They are just like us.

  Sergeant Gottlieb detailed a crew to begin searching for the girl. It was puzzling that she disappeared so quickly and so completely. They first began quartering the huge group of people waiting patiently to board the ships. He notified the ships’ crews so they could search in case the little girl had managed to slip aboard somehow.

  The next step was to begin searching the alleys along the port. Gottlieb was becoming more nervous since the areas around the ports were dangerous. He stepped into one alley where he found Corporal Guderian in the process of buttoning his pants and assumed the man had stepped here to answer the call of nature. Then, he saw the tiny broken body lying in the filth of the alley and nearly retched.

  “Mein Gott, Fritz! What have you done?”

  “What, Sergeant? It was just a Jew girl. They breed like rats anyway. We can hide the body and go about our business.”

  Gottlieb pulled his pistol out and pointed it at the corporal. “Just stand right there, Fritz.”

  A silver whistle hung from a lanyard around the sergeant’s neck. He placed it in his mouth and blew three sharp blasts. Two privates trotted around the corner.

  “This man is under arrest,” Gottlieb said. “Disarm him and take him to the stockade.”

  “Jawohl, Sergeant.”

  Lieutenant Gunther Salzberger walked up. “What is going on, Serge… oh, Mein Gott!” And he turned and vomited on the cobbles.

  “Lieutenant, I think we need the medics here to pick up the body. And someone is going to have to talk to the little girl’s mother.”

  Salzberger spat on the ground and turned back to the Sergeant. “I apologize, Sergeant. This took me by surprise. You are, of course, sending Corporal Guderian to the stockade?”

  “I am tempted to shoot him out of hand,” Gottlieb said. “That poor little girl.”

  “As would I,” the lieutenant said. “But we really need to run this through the Feldgendarmerie.”

  “What about the girl’s mother?” Gottlieb asked.

  The lieutenant sighed. “I guess that’s my job. I just spoke to her a few moments ago. This is going to be unpleasant.”

  § § §

  January 17, 1942; 10 AM

  Off
ice of the Reichsmarshall

  Berlin, Germany

  Goering looked up at the secretary standing before his desk. “Yes, what is it, Waldemar?”

  “General Guderian is in the office and asks for a moment of your time, Herr Reichsmarshall.”

  “What does he want?”

  “He did not say, only that the matter was urgent.”

  Goering looked around the room for a moment, then nodded at the secretary.

  “Well, if Schneller Heinz feels it is important to interrupt me, I suppose I should speak to him. There is not that much going on this morning anyway. Show him in.”

  “At once, Herr Reichsmarshall.”

  Heinz Guderian looked like a farmer, or perhaps a lorry driver, Goering thought. The mischievous smirk that Guderian always seemed to affect was at odds with one of the nation’s premier panzer generals. On the other hand, while he was not popular with his fellow generals, he was listened to. The success of the German offensive through the Low Countries and France was largely the result of his efforts.

  Goering got out of his chair and walked around the desk, holding out his hand as Guderian marched into the office.

  “How may I help the Panzer armie today, Herr General?”

  “Herr Reichsmarshall, I thank you for agreeing to see me today. What I have is a personal matter. It is a bit shameful and I wasn’t sure who to speak with.”

  “I am happy you thought of me as someone you can confide with,” Goering said. “You have given good service to the Reich and I am happy to help. Please, have a seat.”

  Goering’s secretary carefully watched the progress of the meeting. If the Reichsmarshall invited a guest to be seated, that was a signal to provide coffee and pastries. It wasn’t that Goering was particularly hospitable, but rather he looked for opportunities to have additional sweets during the day.

  Rather than returning to his chair behind the desk, Goering sat down in the chair next to the general.

  “Now, how may we help you?”

  “My nephew Fritz has gotten himself into trouble in France,” Guderian said. “I would, myself, simply allow him to suffer the consequences of his poor judgment, but he is my sister’s only child. She has twisted my arm severely.”