Improbable Nazi (Parallel Nazi Book 2)

by Ward Wagher

  It was 7:15AM and tracers from the anti-aircraft nests began arcing into the air. The ME110s swung to fire like moths to the summer lanterns. A group of 25 ME110s and 50 JU88s swung slightly to the right to target RAF Grimsetter, the airbase on the islands. Their specific task was to prevent any fighters from launching. As they came across the field into a thicket of anti-aircraft machine gun fire, a Hawker Hurricane was swinging from the taxiway on the runway and throttling up. No one knew at the time if this was a normal patrol flight, or someone was alert enough to get moving.

  Frantically running men streamed across the airfield to the revetments. Blue smoke coughed from the exhaust stacks of dozens of Rolls-Royce Merlin engines as the defending pilots struggled to get the engines started and their steeds into the air. The lead ME110 tumbled in a ball of flame as a stream of fire from one of the machine guns found it. The next aircraft directed its guns to the Hurricane on the runway. It rolled off the runway and slid to a stop. Fire began pouring from the engine and wings.

  Other ME110s strafed the revetments and the RAF personnel struggling to catch up with events. Ten of the JU88s lined up to lay their bombs across the length of the runways. If they could sufficiently crater the runway, the airfield would be out of operation, regardless of whether or not they succeeded in destroying the aircraft on the ground. The other JU88s began targeting revetments and the base infrastructure. Ground fire found the bomb bay of one JU88 and it exploded in mid-air, raining debris upon the Operations center for the base, destroying it. Two more JU88s crashed to the ground, one skidding through a couple of revetments, adding to the carnage.

  The main raid crested the low-lying islands and came into view of the British fleet at rest. The decks of the ships in the harbor were covered with sailors running frantically to their guns. It seemed to Maltese that they had indeed achieved surprise. He lined up on one of the large ships, an English aircraft carrier and opened the bomb bay doors. Here is where they would find out if Herr Schloss’s experiment would work. The bombardier in the nose of the plane watched carefully and then released the two five-hundred pound bombs. Maltese felt the airplane lurch when the bombs dropped. He pulled back on the control column and took the Dornier into a climb and to the left. The two bombs skipped across the water several times and into the side of HMS Furious. The first wave of bombers had an uninterrupted opportunity, and the anti-air from the ships only started firing as the second wave came in.

  Maltese climbed to five thousand feet and orbited the anchorage to observe. The skip bombing had worked far beyond what he expected. Ships all around the harbor were burning. He watched as the flight of Dornier 17s, otherwise known as the flying pencils roared in over the harbor and began dropping torpedoes. The English gunners were now finding their aim, and he saw Dornier after Dornier splashing into the water. Still, it looked like quite a few of the torpedoes had succeeded in their purpose. Gouts of water shot into the air where the weapons found their targets. Another DO217 flew over the base at three-thousand meters taking pictures. This time the Germans would know the results of their raid.

  Now able to break radio silence, Maltese keyed his mic. “All albatross flight form up on me.” He nodded to the crew, and the gunner fired a red flare. The other bombers began to form up for their flight eastward back to Norway. A group of twenty ME110s with drop tanks had taken off a half hour after they had, and now formed up with the raid to provide some cover for the trip home.

  Maltese glanced over at the copilot. “Well, Klaus, I guess our Reichschancellor knew what he was talking about.”

  Klaus nodded. “We lost too many airplanes, Colonel. But I think this will be judged a successful day.”

  “Very well. Let’s focus on getting our chicks back to the nest.”

  § § §

  April 10, 1942; 10AM

  Tempelhof Airport

  Berlin, Germany

  Heinrich Schloss climbed out of the armored Mercedes and walked over to Goering. The party guards were very much in evidence. The previous efforts to assassinate him were very much in mind.

  “Thank you very much for coming, Herr Reichschancellor,” Goering said. “It means a lot to people when you do this.”

  Schloss had been complaining to himself about taking time away from the office to come to these circuses that Goering liked to arrange. He reminded himself that getting out and greeting the people was as important as anything awaiting in the office.

  “It’s my pleasure, Herr Reichsmarshall,” he replied as he shook Goering’s hand. “I look forward to these meetings.”

  The Luftwaffe people clustered around Goering beamed at Schloss’s flattery. He noted their excitement and chastised himself for his lack of enthusiasm. The people here were really glad to see him, and he needed to show some consideration in return. He swung around.

  “Are you giving the Reichsmarshall all the help he needs?” he called out.

  There was a chorus of jawohls along with a smattering of cheers and applause.

  “As you know, he needs all the help you can give him.”

  This was followed by laughter and more applause. Now Goering beamed and laughed. The rotund Nazi had never complained about being the object of humor. In fact, he seemed to relish it.

  “Ach so,” he said. “You are completely correct, Herr Reichschancellor. I could not do it without these fine people.”

  Schloss nodded as he smiled broadly at the people in the group. “I understand you have a demonstration for me this morning.”

  Goering stepped forward. “Yes, we do. I would like to introduce you to Henrich Focke.”

  A balding, bespectacled middle-aged man stepped forward.

  “Ah, Herr Focke,” Schloss said. “An honor to meet you.”

  Focke looked at him curiously. “But, Herr Reichschancellor, we have already met.”

  Schloss swore to himself. The one day when I forget to check my personality notebook. I wonder how well I am supposed to know this man. Careful, Hennie.

  Schloss had no problem blushing in embarrassment. “Forgive me, Herr Focke, for my slip of the tongue. It is good to see you again.”

  They shook hands and Focke looked at him strangely.

  He thinks I have lost my mind. I obviously know him better than just casually. And I always knew that I could be tripped up by situations such as this.

  Goering had missed the subliminal interchange. “I have arranged a demonstration of the Fa223 Dragon helicopter. We are ready to put it into series production.”

  Schloss looked over the heads of the personnel at the ungainly looking craft perched on the airfield. It had the fuselage of a glider, but instead of wings, a framework projecting from each side of the craft held large horizontal propellers.

  A Luftwaffe major and a lieutenant in flight suits marched out to the helicopter. The small crowd moved away from the aircraft, anticipating the flight. Goering sidled up to Schloss.

  “The Scapa Flow raid was a success,” he said. “I hope to have details for you in a couple of hours.”

  Schloss nodded and studied the helicopter. The Nazis had taken the Focke-Wulf company away from Henrich in 1936 and had turned it into a public company, apparently to finance the growth of its production capability. Focke had turned to the development of the helicopter, and received encouragement from the Reich Air Ministry to continue. The Fa223, while experimental, performed well and was relatively reliable.

  With a cough and a bark, the 1,000 horsepower Bramo radial engine started, and the rotors began turning. Engine roaring, the aircraft rose from the ground into a hover, then tilted forward to begin moving. It climbed up out of Tempelhof and circled the airfield.

  “An impressive aircraft,” Goering said, as he stood next to Schloss.

  “But what is its purpose?” Schloss asked. “I mean this is a great technical achievement.”

  I have got to get him thinking long term, Schloss thought. This is the beginning of an entirely new industry and Germany needs to be the leader.
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  “Herr Reichschancellor!” Goering said. “The ability to take off vertically and hover is a unique capability.”

  “I know that, Hermann. But what are we hoping to achieve with this contraption.”

  “It is not a contraption. It will give us the ability to drop troops into tight locations, or mountains. There are lots of possibilities for civilian use.”

  “That’s what I mean,” Schloss said. “I just wanted to make sure you had thought through the possibilities. Do you not think this is the beginning of a new industry?”

  Goering looked at him with a quizzical expression. “But, that is what I was trying to say, Herr Schloss.”

  “Good, good,” Schloss said with a smile, and patted Goering on the shoulder.

  “Sometimes I just do not understand you,” Goering sniffed.

  “I assume Focke has follow-on design on the drafting table.”

  “Yes, and he is asking for more funding.”

  “And you are trying to balance his needs with other priorities.”

  “Exactly,” Goering said. “We are fighting a war, and there is precious little extra funding to go around. And I need to talk to you about Von Braun and his projects.”

  And that’s another thing I should be paying attention to, Schloss thought.

  “I need to return to the office,” Schloss said. “When you have the details of the raid, please contact my office. Kirche will set up a meeting so we can talk about these items.”

  The helicopter swooped in to land in front of the group and the pilots shut down the engine.

  “Are you going to greet the pilots?” Goering asked.

  “Yes, I need to do that, don’t I?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  April 13, 1942; 4PM

  Office of the Reichschancellor

  Reichschancellery

  Berlin, Germany

  “Come in, Gentlemen,” Schloss said, as he led his guests to the conversation nook in the office. Although to him, the word nook was not very descriptive in an office he considered the size of a barn. The two men who accompanied Hermann Goering looked around in curiosity. One was a Major-General and the other a civilian.

  “Sit, sit,” he commanded.

  The four of them gathered around the coffee table, sitting on the comfortable sofas. Kirche carried in a tray of refreshments and served them each coffee. Schloss studied them as they sipped the coffee. Then he spoke.

  “The Reichsmarshall gave me a report on your progress with the Vengeance weapons. I must say you are doing well under difficult circumstances.”

  Major-General Walter Dornberger cleared his throat before he spoke. “Yes, well, thank you, Herr Reichschancellor. I believe we have done well, considering the challenges.”

  “Could you describe the challenges, please?” Schloss asked.

  Goering nodded at them with an encouraging smile.

  “Yes, Sir,” Wernher Von Braun said. “While the theory behind what we are developing is well known, the actual mechanics of building something that works… well has been very hard. We gained a great understanding from Robert Goddard, the American. But we are scaling up our rocket far beyond what Goddard had tried. We had to invent the turbo pumps and the entire fuel system for the rocket. Plus, Goddard’s rockets fired for ten to twelve seconds. Our A4 will fire for nearly a minute. We had to develop ways to keep the heat from destroying the combustion chamber.”

  “And have you been successful?” Schloss asked.

  “So far...” von Braun wiggled his hand to indicate uncertainty.

  “You understand, of course, that we are committing a great deal of our national treasure to support this project?” Schloss said sharply. “I want you to succeed, but you also must be courageous enough to know when to abandon that which does not work and will not work.”

  “We plan to begin test flights of the rocket this fall,” von Braun said. “The nature of this business is to expect failures as well as successes. There are many problems we will not even encounter until we fly this rocket.”

  “I understand that,” Schloss said. “But, I want to be certain of your confidence in ultimate success.”

  “I am very confident of ultimate success,” von Braun said.

  Schloss looked at him with a smile. “And how do you define ultimate success?”

  “To put men into space,” he replied immediately. “Oh, I understand the Reich needs these rockets as weapons. But I also think Germany’s long-term success requires us to put men into space, even on the moon.”

  Goering looked horrified. Dornberger also looked uncomfortable.

  This Wernher von Braun is not so very different from the man in the world I came from, Schloss thought. He is a dreamer, but also a doer.

  “Fine,” Schloss said. “Give me a usable weapon, and then we will see about space travel. I think you are right.”

  Now Goering looked surprised. He said nothing, though.

  “Let’s talk about the use of this A4 as a weapon. What are your plans?”

  Dornberger cleared his throat again. “Herr Reichschancellor, we are using Amatol 60/40, and the warhead weighs about 975 kilograms. It will have a contact detonator. When the rocket motor shuts down, the weapon will become ballistic. It will tip over and land nose first at the target.”

  “So, the warhead will bury itself before it explodes?”

  “That is correct,” Dornberger responded.

  “Will that not limit the damage?” Schloss asked.

  “Yes, but...”

  “So why can you not fuse this for some kind of airburst? I mean, you should be able to cause extensive damage if the warhead explodes, say, thirty meters from the ground.”

  “The rocket will be coming in very fast, Herr Reichschancellor,” Dornberger quickly explained. “A proximity fuse would not have time to arm itself.”

  Schloss folded his hands and stared at Dornberger. The general once again grew uncomfortable.

  “Is that so?” Schloss commented. “And what does the A4 cost?”

  Dornberger looked uncomfortable. “Perhaps RM 100,000. Probably less once we get into series production.”

  “General, we are spending a great deal of money on these weapons. There are limits to what Germany can afford. A single rocket costs more than a Focke-Wulf Condor, for example. You have talked about raining thousands of rockets down upon our enemies. But we could build thousands of bombers for the same money, and we could use them more than once. Do you see my dilemma?”

  “Yes, Herr Reichschancellor,” Dornberger said. “I am concerned, however, that if we divert resources to a redesign of the warhead, we will blow through our overall schedule.”

  “I think you are a good project manager, General.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Tell me what you need for a team to start investigating a proximity fuse. You will complete the original project. The new warhead will have to come later. You men are going to spend the rest of your lives perfecting these rockets, do you know that?”

  “Yes, Herr Reichschancellor,” the two men chorused.

  I don’t want to get into the other shortcomings of this rocket. These people already wonder about me. Time to change the subject, Hennie.

  “Pardon me for digging so deeply into your work,” Schloss said. “What you are doing fascinates me.”

  Dornberger nodded graciously. Von Braun looked confused.

  “So,” Schloss continued, “tell me about the V1 weapon.”

  “I surprised General Dornberger when I showed him the drawing you made, Herr Reichschancellor,” Goering said.

  “It bore an amazing resemblance to the design of our V1,” Dornberger said. “We wondered how you had gotten a look beforehand.”

  That’s a leading question, Walter, Schloss thought, and one I am not prepared to answer. But, he does deserve some kind of response.

  “I think the simple answer must be that form follows function,” Schloss said. “What can you tell me about it?”
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  “First of all, we hope to begin test flights, perhaps, in December. Fiesler is the prime contractor, but Argus, Siemens and Askania are also involved. The airframe is very simple, but as they say, the Devil is in the details.”

  “I can well understand that,” Schloss said. “Nothing is ever easy the first time.”

  “Indeed,” Dornberger said. “But this project is actually much easier than the A4 project.”

  “And what is the cost of these weapons?” Schloss asked.

  “Certainly, less than 10,000 Reichsmarks. Possibly as little as 5,000.”

  “Is that so?” Schloss commented. “That is attractive compared to the A4?”

  “Very true,” Dornberger said. “However, there is essentially no defense against the A4.”

  “So, you are telling me that our enemies could shoot down the V1?”

  “Not easily.”

  “What is the biggest challenge, then?”

  “Perhaps the autopilot mechanism,” Dornberger said. “It uses a couple of gyroscopes powered by compressed air. A simple device, but we hope it will be adequate.”

  “Is it capable of randomly changing altitude or course?” Schloss asked.

  “I am not sure I understand what you are asking?” Dornberger said.

  “If the V1 flies straight and level, no matter the speed, sooner or later the enemy will figure out a way to shoot it down. I would not want to make it any easier for them.”

  “We shall think on that,” the general said. “You have some very good ideas.”

  Schloss made a throwing-away motion. “I just try to think of all the possibilities. Anyway, please keep me posted, Gentlemen.”

  And Schloss stood up. The meeting was over.

  Goering lingered behind after the other two men left the office. “A moment of your time, Herr Reichschancellor?”

  “Sure, Hermann. What can I do for you?”

  Goering watched as Kirche pulled the door closed, and then turned back to Schloss.

  “You continue to amaze me with your understanding of our military inventions.”