Improbable Nazi (Parallel Nazi Book 2)

by Ward Wagher

  Heydrich had also been pondering other ideas recently. He had always considered himself a man of action, but the enforced idleness in the safe houses around the country had driven him to think about his situation. While there was a good-sized group of disaffected Nazis who supported him, sooner or later Rainer’s people would catch him. Heydrich was enough of a realist to understand this. While his life, in and of itself, was not that important to Hitler’s Reich, there was no one else he was aware of with the leadership potential needed to lead the entire country.

  He was coming to the conclusion that he would be wise to fade into the deeper shadows and guide his efforts through the work of people who were at several levels removed from him. Although it would be inefficient, it would allow him to plan for the long term. Hitler had criticized him, a couple of times to his face, about being impetuous. Heydrich now realized the Fuhrer was right. It was now critically important to teach himself to think first before committing to action. He hoped that Hitler looked down from Walhalla and smiled upon his efforts.

  This still left the problem of Schloss. If the Reichschancellor was swept from the board, the ensuing chaos would leave an opportunity to move some of the more orthodox Nazis back into leadership positions. He considered the possibilities and decided that even if that were the case, it would still not be the right time for him to move back into the open. That being so, he could not move directly even now. Heydrich picked up the telephone to call one of his lieutenants and then issued instructions.

  § § §

  March 22, 1942; 8PM

  Alehouse Joachim

  Leipzig, Germany

  Schloss felt guilty about his insistence on eating at the small restaurant across the street from the hotel. His sudden arrival in Leipzig had put the local SS contingent into a panic. They were suddenly responsible for the safety of the Reichschancellor in their city and there had been no warning and no time to prepare.

  The hotel was quiet and comfortable. It was probably as safe as the SS could make it. But Schloss felt the need to get out for some reason. If the restaurant staff did not recognize him, they were indeed convinced they had an important guest, judging from the size of the entourage. The owner spent the time wringing his hands at the inadequacy of the menu.

  “Mein Herr, if only I had some advance warning, I could have prepared.”

  Schloss smiled at him. “All I wanted… all we wanted were some sausage and potatoes and some of your lager.”

  He glanced over at Gisela, but she simply stared at the table. Too much had happened and she was probably in shock, he thought.

  “I will be happy to provide that,” the owner said. “I hope it will be satisfactory.”

  “I think it will be fine.”

  They had been ushered into a small private dining room and two guards stood at the door.

  “He doesn’t know who you are, Hennie,” she said.

  “Are you all right, Gisela?” he asked. “I was getting concerned.”

  “No, I am not all right. Between the shootings and the bombings, and now having almost been shot out of the sky, I do not know which way to turn. I am frightened, and I think we are descending into a never-ending nightmare.”

  “I have enemies,” he said. “You understood that.”

  “And I did understand that,” she said. “But it seems we cannot turn around without something horrible happening.”

  One of the serving maids brought in the lager, and set the mugs on the table. He picked his up and took a sip. It was… not bad. He set it down again.

  “We are changing the world,” he said. “I wonder if there is some force, or something that resists change. Something that wants the world to snap things back to the way they were.”

  She stared at him. “I am not sure, Hennie, that it helps for you to get mystical like that. It sounds too much like Hitler’s insistence on destiny.”

  He looked down, then picked up the mug and had another sip.

  “I am sorry, Hennie,” she said suddenly, “I did not mean to belittle you.”

  “No, you did not disparage me. You made me think. There are so much of our actions that are bound up in this weird mysticism that the Nazis have surrounded themselves with. I wonder if we will not be entirely successful in our efforts until we can figure out a way to lay that philosophy to rest.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I am not sure,” he replied. “I have tried to analyze the insanity that gripped our people. How could an entire nation buy into the things Hitler represented? Precious, they were planning to murder every Jew on the continent they could find. Himmler was getting ready to build the factories to carry out the edict. And it seems the bulk of the party was enthusiastically bent on carrying it out.”

  “And when you stopped it, those people tried to lash back at you,” she said. “I don’t think there is anything mystical about that. You took away the focus of their hate and some of them are so bent that they want to turn it back on you.”

  He looked up as the server brought their dinners. The aroma was certainly enticing. He picked up his knife and fork and sliced a piece of the sausage. It was also not bad. He was happy to get out of the hotel.

  He looked up as a man in a Wehrmacht uniform came to the door. He spoke to the guards, who apparently tried to turn him away. He became insistent, his voice carrying into the dining room.

  “I must see the Reichschancellor. His life is in danger.”

  One of the guards stationed in the dining room itself immediately walked over to the door.

  “Disarm him, and bring him to the table, please,” Schloss called.

  “It’s happening again,” Gisela moaned.

  Two guards marched the officer to the table.

  “Sit down, Herr General.”

  General Heinz Guderian pulled a chair out and dropped into it. Schloss looked up at the guards.

  “Stay here, please.”

  He looked at the general. “Now, Herr General, suppose you tell me what is so urgent.”

  “I received a phone call this evening telling me you were in Leipzig and that I should find you. The caller said I would know what to do.”

  “And how would you know what to do?” Schloss asked. “And what does that mean?”

  “Herr Reichschancellor...” Guderian hesitated and shook his head. “I received several messages that told me my nephew was safe, and that eventually he would be released without charges.”

  “And?”

  “Well, you know that this is my desire. I couldn’t bear to see him executed for murder. But, what he did was very bad. You were right. He murdered a little girl. It wasn’t a prostitute like he explained to me.”

  “So?”

  “These messages left no instructions, simply that when the time came, I would know what to do. That the new leadership would see to the release of my nephew.”

  “And how did you respond to that?” Schloss asked.

  “I was not given an opportunity to respond. It was like they assumed I would know what to do.”

  “And do you know what they wanted?”

  Guderian nodded soberly. “Yes, Herr Reichschancellor. I believe they wanted me to kill you.”

  Schloss heard Gisela’s intake of breath as he stared at Guderian.

  “And what did you plan to do about that?” he asked softly.

  “Sir, Herr Reichschancellor, I could not do something like that. I swore an oath to the nation. I am a loyal soldier. Besides, I believe… Sir, I believe you have saved our nation.”

  Schloss studied the general for several moments. He frowned and shook his head.

  “Herr General, I thank you for coming forward with this. I admire your courage. I believe that since you did not fulfill the wishes of whoever contacted you, you are in great danger.”

  He snorted. “I have been under fire before. It does not frighten me.”

  “Yes, but you wouldn’t see this coming,” Schloss said. He looked up at the guards. “I w
ant him placed in protective custody. Make sure he is treated well, and guarded well.”

  He looked back at Guderian. “The Reichsprotektor and I will decide how to handle this. But please consider yourself commended for your loyalty and courage.”

  After the guards led the general from the dining room Schloss looked over at his wife. “Now, my Dear, that was interesting.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  March 23, 1942; 1PM

  Reichschancellery

  Berlin, Germany

  “We have a lot of things to cover this afternoon,” Schloss said as he settled himself into the chair at the head of the table in the council meeting room.

  “Let me say, Herr Reichschancellor, that we are all overjoyed that you have returned safely after the events during your trip to Italy,” Ribbentrop said.

  Peter Schreiber glanced over at the foreign minister with a raised eyebrow. He looked at Schloss.

  “It is good to have you back,” he said simply.

  “Thank you,” Schloss said.

  He gazed around the table. Besides Peter and Ribbentrop, Canaris was present as was Erhard Milch, Goering’s deputy, and Karl Rainer. Willem Kirche took notes, as usual. He looked at Peter.

  “When are you and Joachim leaving for Rome?”

  “We plan to leave in the morning,” Schreiber said. “The weather is supposed to be better tomorrow, and there is ample time before Mussolini’s funeral.”

  “That must have been frightening for you when Il Duce was killed,” Canaris said.

  “They came within a hair’s breadth of getting me, too.”

  “I understand you killed the last of the attackers yourself, Herr Reichschancellor,” Milch said.

  “Understand,” Schloss said, “Il Duce exchanged fire with the attackers before he was murdered. He saved the lives of Gisela and me. A courageous man.”

  “And what of the Italian government?” Rainer asked.

  “King Victor Emmanuel appointed Foreign Minister Ciano as the acting head of state,” Ribbentrop said. “There is some turmoil in Rome. Apparently, there is not universal consensus on the Italian succession.”

  “And what should be Germany’s position on this?” Schloss asked.

  “Ciano has not been completely friendly with us,” Ribbentrop said.

  “Us?” Schloss asked.

  “Well, he opposed Italy’s entry into the war in 1939.”

  Schloss toyed with his pencil, as he often did when he wanted to think. “What has his attitude been since December 12?”

  “Certainly, more cordial,” Ribbentrop admitted. “He has been complimentary of you, Sir.”

  “What do you think, Admiral?” he asked, looking at Canaris.

  The head of the Abwehr shrugged. “The Italians will do whatever they will do. In the final analysis, it will not affect us.”

  “That is a bit simplistic, is it not, Herr Admiral?” Schreiber asked.

  “Perhaps so,” he replied, “but we have helped them out any number of times when their incompetent military got them into trouble. Let’s be honest here, they are a client state, regardless of what the treaties say. I am not saying we should be anything but deferential to them, but they will ultimately follow our wishes.”

  “Cynical, but true,” Ribbentrop said with a one-sided smile.

  “I have met the count,” Schloss said. “He recognizes we are trying to get things under control. Karl, did you have further thoughts?”

  “What is the old saying?” Rainer said. “Better the devil you know.”

  Schreiber nodded. “There is definitely something to that. And Ciano provides some continuity. And it seems to me that he is somewhat smarter than Signore Mussolini, and I think he has the well-wishes of the nation. Not to mention that they are generally horrified at what happened at Riva del Garda.”

  Schloss looked down the table at Goering’s deputy. “Any thoughts, Herr Field Marshall?”

  Milch blushed. “I must apologize for my general ignorance of Italian politics. If you will permit, Herr Reichschancellor, I will listen and attempt to increase my knowledge.”

  Schloss laughed. “I appreciate your honesty, Herr Milch. And in response to your request, I would say to listen carefully and do not hesitate to ask questions.”

  “Thank you, Herr Reichschancellor.”

  “Very well, Joachim, please prepare a statement expressing our support for Count Ciano during this difficult time. While you are in Rome, be prepared to grant the Italians any reasonable assistance they may request.”

  Ribbentrop nodded. “I will have a draft for you before the end of business today.”

  “Thank you, Herr Foreign Minister,” Schloss said. “And now, tell me what we know about the attacks in Riva del Garda and La Spezia.”

  Canaris cleared his throat and opened his folder. “The Riva del Garda attack was definitely the work of the Communists. Our guess is that a fairly large band was in the area and concluded they had the superior force, at least locally. They decided to make the hit. Your presence, Herr Reichschancellor, was probably considered a bonus. Our contacts in the Italian Navy are expressing doubt that the explosion in the harbor of La Spezia was the work of the partisans. We had provided additional training to their guard force and sneaking anything on to the base was unlikely.”

  “So where did that one come from?” Schloss asked.

  “The only reasonable answer is that whoever did it came in from sea,” Canaris said.

  Canaris paused and Schloss also tried to collect his thoughts.

  “The English, then,” Rainer said suddenly. “They are the only ones with that kind of capability.”

  “Pretty far from home for them, though,” Milch said.

  “How would we find out?” Schloss asked.

  “A good question,” Rainer said. “We do have a source in the Italian partisans. They readily took credit for the Riva del Garda massacre. They have been silent about the other.”

  “The English would have good reason to stay silent, if it were them,” Schreiber said.

  “Indeed,” Ribbentrop said. “I can imagine how the Americans would respond to an act of cold blooded murder on the part of their English friends. Perhaps I could trail that in the water for Herr Smoke.”

  Schloss began tapping the eraser of his pencil on the table. “I don’t know, Joachim. If the English were indeed responsible it would provide us a magnificent opportunity. But it could also backfire on us if we got too enthusiastic about it. The Americans are not fools, Herr Smoke notwithstanding.”

  Rainer snorted. “It is hard to believe someone so fundamentally stupid could have advanced as far as he has.”

  “He has an instinctive feel for diplomatic work, I think,” Schreiber said. “It seems to go a long way towards offsetting his intellectual limitations. That was my impression when I met with him in Lisbon. It’s funny really. I would almost convince myself that he knew what he was doing when he would say something surpassingly idiotic. But he does know how to drive through to his goals.”

  “May I suggest, then, that we wait until we have something concrete to take to the Americans?” Schloss said. “For the time being it is convenient to blame the Communists. The Americans may stumble over the source on their own.”

  Canaris smiled. “It is always good to not appear too anxious.”

  Schloss consulted the typed agenda. “Next item. Any further information on the Panama Canal?”

  “Closed at both ends,” Canaris said. “The Americans told our military attaché in Washington that while they will get the western locks in operation in a couple of weeks, the damage on the eastern side will take months, if not the better part of a year.”

  “I am not clear on what happened.” Schloss said.

  “An ammunition ship blew up and took out the upper locks on both the eastern and western lanes. The resulting rush of water took out the locks on both sides all the way down to Limon Bay. Plus, Gatun Lake has mostly drained.”

  “Was
the ammunition ship an act of sabotage?” Ribbentrop asked.

  “No one will probably ever know,” Canaris replied. “The blast took out everything for nearly a mile around. However, the timing was convenient for the Japanese. So, the Americans are working from the premise that somebody on the crew was compromised.”

  Schloss shook his head. “The Americans are in a terrible bind. Their major navy yards are on the east coast.”

  “Worse yet,” Rainer added, “the Japanese have managed to land on Australia.”

  “And the cupboard is bare in terms of the Australians or English having anything to stop them,” Canaris said. “We are likely going to capture Montgomery’s entire army in Africa.”

  Schloss began tapping his pencil again. He looked up at the ornate ceiling, and then around to the windows.

  “I know that look, Hennie,” Schreiber laughed. “What do you have in mind?”

  He continued tapping his pencil as he thought. The others looked at him curiously.

  He looked up at them again. “Suppose we send a message to the English through our facilities in Lisbon that if they want to pull their troops out of North Africa via the horn, all we would require is their parole that they not be used against us in this war. It would be logical for them to land the troops in Australia.”

  “But we cannot trust the English to keep their word,” Canaris snapped. “We have been able to keep the English from regrouping. We will have them out of Egypt in a matter of weeks. I think we need to destroy them. We let them get away from us at Dunkirk.”

  Schloss tilted his head. “The admiral makes a good point. I agree with him that it would be very bad tactically to let the English get away from us again.”

  Canaris smiled. “It seems to me you are getting ready to make a point, Herr Reichschancellor.”