And then America! Westward the star of Nazi propaganda was taking its way. America was a much younger country than Britain, more crude, more chaotic. America meant a swarm of profiteers, blinded by a frenzy of greed, the chance to make money by the billions where formerly they had made it by the millions. Anyone who tried to stand against this torrent was branded as a public enemy. Lanny described one by one the heroic men with whom he had discussed the situation: Senator Reynolds and Congressman Fish, Henry Ford and Father Coughlin, and above all, the publisher William Randolph Hearst, who had come to visit the Führer and had made such an excellent business deal. “There is my idea of a real American!” exclaimed the Führer, and the Führer’s friend replied: “Ja, wirklich!” He went on to tell of the colossal influence the Hearst newspapers exerted in America—always, of course, against Roosevelt’s devilish maneuvers to involve us in the war.
“Have you met That Man?” inquired the Führer, and Lanny, always cautious, replied: “Only casually. The man has wild eyes and is subject to brainstorms; the kindest thing anybody can say about him is that his judgment is as feeble as his legs.”
X
That led up to the “junta” plot; and of course Lanny was under no obligation to limit himself to the exact truth about it. He made it more widespread than it was, connecting it with all the country-club gentlemen, and with the crackpots up and down the land who were raving in public meetings and organizing groups with shirts of white and silver and gold and all other colors which Nazis and Fascists and Falangists had not pre-empted.
Never in his many interviews with the Führer had Lanny brought any news which gave his host such delight. Adi began to slap his thighs, which was one of his tricks when he was aroused; than he popped up from his seat and began to pace the room and orate. “So ist’s! What I have been predicting from the beginning! Put that scoundrel out of the way once for all!”
He came back to his chair, and leaning toward his guest demanded: “When is this going to happen, Herr Budd?”
“Leider, mein Führer, that is something I cannot guess. The men who plan such a drastic move will surely not talk about it freely. They have to wait for the psychological moment, sometime when the man has made a particularly obvious blunder.”
“They should not wait too long! It is a calamity for the world that such a man is kept in power and allowed to prolong this cruel conflict. You must know that it would have been over long ago but for the encouragement your country has given the stubborn Churchill, and the planes they have sent, to be used in killing not merely our soldiers but our women and children in their beds.”
“Indeed, Herr Reichskanzler, you don’t have to point that out to me. I am bowed with shame, and I hesitated to enter Germany this time, to face all my old friends here.”
“Listen, Herr Budd.” The Führer leaned even closer, and lowered his voice, as though, like everybody else in Germany, he feared the omnipresent Gestapo. “Is there not something we can do at once, without waiting for officials and captains of industry to make up their minds?”
“What do you have in mind, mein Führer?”
“Could we not find some way to get rid of that malignant man ourselves? I could find ten thousand young heroes, any one of whom would gladly give his life to save the Fatherland from the sufferings it now has to endure.”
Lanny gazed into those deadly blue eyes, and he thought: “This is the real madman, and I have to be careful now.” Aloud, he said: “It would be very difficult for a German to get anywhere near the White House now, Exzellenz.”
“I could find one who has lived in America, one who speaks without any trace of accent.”
“I doubt that very much,” replied Lanny gravely. “One syllable wrong would cost him his life, and the lives of all those who helped him. But even supposing it were so, the President is very carefully guarded—that has been the task of what is called the Secret Service, and it is done with especial thoroughness now, in what they consider for all practical purposes to be wartime.”
“That goes without saying,” replied the Führer. “But there is always a weak spot to be found, a chink in every armor. And if we could get those two men, Roosevelt and Churchill, we should save the world from an unending horror.” Lanny noted this extreme language, several times repeated, and realized that the war which Adolf Hitler had started was becoming too much for his nerves. A boob like Heinrich Jung could rejoice over a year and a half of marching and conquering, but Adi had a General Staff to warn him how dangerously he was extending his lines and exposing his flanks—one over the Balkans and the other away down in North Africa! Adi Schicklgruber was beginning to weaken!
XI
A student of National-Socialist affairs shouldn’t have been too much surprised by a proposal of murder. Lanny knew that Adolf Hitler had caused the killing of whole populations which stood in his way, and that two leading statesmen had been assassinated at his orders—a King of Yugoslavia, and a Premier of Austria. Premier Barthou of France was supposed to have been killed by Mussolini’s crowd, but Adi had undoubtedly sanctioned it. Even so, it was startling to have this technique of statecraft brought directly home to a peaceable art expert.
Realizing that he would have to step with caution, even as the bearer of such a secret, Lanny inquired: “Just what do you have in mind for me to do, mein Führer?”
“It is my idea that you might assist me, at least with information as to how such an agent should proceed. You know so many important persons in your country, surely you could get access to the White House.”
“That is a very difficult thing to do under the circumstances existing, and especially for one who is known as the son of Robert Budd.”
“You mean that your father is not in favor now, in view of what he is doing for the government?”
“My father has been one of the most aggressive of old-line Republicans; he has contributed or raised millions of dollars in the effort to defeat the New Deal; and Roosevelt is known to be an extremely vindictive man—he cherishes grudges like an elephant. So far as concerns the present, the Administration sees very little to be pleased with in my father’s achievements. Government agents are snooping about the plant trying to find out why the plane has given so little satisfaction to the British, and why the new model is so unaccountably delayed. I won’t say that my father is deliberately ‘stalling’—he wouldn’t admit that even to his son; when I asked him questions his reply was: ‘The time will come when this government of dreamers will be glad that we kept some of our military secrets to ourselves.’ I trust that you, Herr Reichskanzler, will consider this strictly between us, and not share it with even your most trusted advisers.”
“Oh, surely, surely, Herr Budd. But it is most unfortunate that you cannot make any suggestions.”
“I haven’t meant to say quite that, Exzellenz. It is an extremely delicate matter, and one that I would have to think over with the utmost care.”
“That is better! Will you let me have whatever ideas may occur to you?”
“That I will do. But I am afraid I should have to go to New York and Washington and sound out a number of persons. I would say that I was hoping to get some sort of government post, and wished to know what influence I could command. I should listen to a number of people talking about Roosevelt, in order to find someone who might be counted upon. It is a difficult matter getting into Germany, so I suggest that you give me some secret way of getting word to you.”
That was what the duelists call a riposte. That was taking the burden that Adi had placed upon Lanny’s shoulders and putting it back where it had come from. The Führer didn’t dare meet his guest’s eyes for fear of betraying the doubts in his soul. To cover the awkward moment, the guest went on, quickly: “Assign me a code name that I could use in case I have something important to suggest.”
“Excellent idea,” replied the other. “Will you choose a name?”
“It might be better if you would assign one, because you know the sort of na
me you employ.”
“They are chosen quite at random. Who is your favorite German?” This was a point at which Lanny could venture a smile. “You know chat without asking, mein Führer.”
The great man smiled in return—who could have helped it? “I mean, among those of the past,” he said.
“I suppose I would say Wagner,” replied the tactful guest—choosing Adi’s favorite among music masters.
“That unfortunately, is too common a name. I have several in my service. We might choose one of his characters. Would you care to be Siegfried?”
“I wouldn’t mind slaying the dragon,” replied Lanny, “but I wouldn’t relish the stab in the back, or the funeral pyre.” He said it with a twinkle in his eyes.
“We are going to revise that legend, Herr Budd. Our young Nordic hero has been forewarned, and this time he will keep his face to the foe.”
“Herrlich, mein Führer! And to whom shall I send the information if I get it?”
Once more the pains of doubt and uncertainty were apparent in the Führer’s face. It was one thing to listen to the gossip of a plausible playboy from an enemy country, and another to entrust to him a vitally important secret of the Liaison Staff—or would it be Personnel Department B? Of course Hitler might give the name of some agent in Portugal or Spain, where he had hundreds, and where the American government couldn’t get at them; but that would mean delays, and perhaps secret censorship—the Führer knew it was not safe to assume that foreign governments were too stupid, and it was hard for him to believe that the Americans would permit airmail letters to go to Portugal and Spain without being examined on the way.
Nothing venture, nothing have—and Adi Schicklgruber was one of those who were determined to have. Said he: “It happens that a personal friend of mine, Herr Hans Heffelfinger, is at present connected with our Embassy in Washington, and if you have anything to write me you can send it in his care. Put it in an inside envelope, and mark the inner one ‘Personal to the Führer.’ That way it will come to me at once. You will remember the name?”
“It is engraved on the tablets of my memory, Exzellenz; and be sure that I will do my best, and as quickly as possible. One thing more: in case you should have a message to send me through Herr Heffelfinger, it might be well for you, too, to have a code name, so that I may be sure it is the real thing. Will you permit me to assign one to you?”
“Mit Vergnügen, Herr Budd.”
“Very well: you are Wotan, highest of the gods! You will remember the name?” Even in this august and irritable presence, a playboy could not entirely forget the habits of a lifetime!
XII
One other matter of importance had to be cleared up before Lanny offered to depart. He said: “Mein Führer, I explained to Rudi the importance of my being able to tell people your views and wishes as of the present hour. Wherever, in any land, I mention that I have talked with you, people crowd about and ask: ‘What does he really mean? What does he want?’”
“I have told them with the utmost plainness in my speeches, Herr Budd.”
“You have reminded me of that in the past; but in the so-called democratic world—which is really Jewish-plutocratic—nobody believes what any statesman says; they take it for granted that it is just so much hogwash. But when a man talks to a friend in private, that is a different matter. They assume that so busy a man as yourself wouldn’t give time to a visiting art expert unless he was really a friend.”
“In that, at least, they are correct, Herr Budd. Just what is the uncertainty that troubles their minds?”
“The question of your intentions toward their own countries. The British statesmen are intensely concerned to know your attitude toward their Empire. As for America, I do not go so much among the statesmen, for they are mostly low-grade politicians, or fanatics of the Roosevelt cabal; but I meet the really important industrialists, and one and all they ask: ‘What does the Führer mean to do when he has conquered Russia?’”
“Ach, so? They think that I am going to conquer Russia for them?”
“To put it plainly, Exzellenz, they think you are going to conquer, Russia for oil. I have not met anyone who has doubt on that point, and they consider me fatuous if I suggest otherwise.”
“You might point out to them that I have developed several processes for making petrol from coal.”
“Yes, of course; but those plants are exposed to long-distance bombers, and you have told us in a speech what wonders you could work if you had the oil and the minerals of the Ukraine. That is one of your communications that nobody has forgotten.”
“And they think that I can conquer Russia?”
“On that, too, these is general agreement. All the military men with whom my father talks believe that you can achieve your purpose in six weeks—about twice as long as it took with Poland.”
“And when do they expect sue to oblige them, Herr Budd?”
“They agree that you intend to move in the latter part of June or early in July. They figure that you must allow yourself a greater margin of safety than you did in 1939.”
“It is really remarkable, Herr Budd, how precisely they have laid out my program for me. It might occur to such shrewd gentlemen to doubt whether I would be so eager to meet their wishes.”
“Understand, mein Führer, I am not telling my ideas, but theirs. Apparently their view is that the Reds are nearer to you, and therefore a greater menace. The reports are that the Russians are doing everything in their power to thwart your wishes in Bulgaria, and now in Yugoslavia.”
“That is true enough, Herr Budd. They are vermin, the scum of the earth; mad dogs who have been turned loose on our eastern border, to the delight of our foes and the dismay of all decent people!”
The conversation was detoured for a time, while Adi called the Bolsheviks all the bad names he could think of. He worried himself into one of his furies of eloquence; he slapped his thighs, and got up and paced the room, shouting as if he had all Germany for an audience. He declared that the Red leaders, the brains of the conspiracy, were Jewish swine, and he cited Marx and Lassalle and Kautsky and Liebknecht and Luxemburg and Trotsky to prove it. Then he raved about the Jews for a while: “Germany’s misfortune,” in the Nazi phrase.
Then, in the strange fashion which Lanny had noted on other occasions, the Führer suddenly turned off his rage as if with a spigot. “Enough of that, Herr Budd, I must be boring you. I have to keep myself reminded that I have other enemies besides Jewish-Bolshevism.”
XIII
So then, quite calmly and cunningly, Adolf Hitler proceeded to discuss what he wanted his friend and secret agent to do. “Let us assume, Herr Budd, that I intend to take upon myself the burden of slaying this dragon. Are those British aristocrats and plutocrats to go on trying to strangle and starve me, and shooting their poisoned arrows into my back?”
“My efforts, Exzellenz, have been devoted to making them realize this situation, and bringing an end to this fratricidal strife. But it is impossible to bring two sides together when neither will take a step. The British ask: ‘What will the Führer do?’ and the Führer asks: ‘What will the British do?’ and I cannot answer either. When I left you in Paris and resumed my travels, everybody wanted to know: ‘Does he mean to go after Russia?’ and I had to reply: ‘I don’t know; he didn’t tell me.’ Now everybody has become assured that you are going after Russia—even the Russians know it, I am told. What people ask now—hundreds of them, all the way from Vichy to Hollywood—is: ‘When he has got Russia, is he going to be satisfied? Or is he going to use the resources of Russia to turn upon us?’”
“You must tell them, Herr Budd, that it depends entirely upon their attitude toward me. If they are bombing my cities, of course I shall bomb theirs.”
“It is a deadlock—and who is going to make the first move to break it? You and Britain are tied up in a net of mutual fears and suspicions, and they want to get out of it just as much as you do. I, an American, want to help, before that madm
an in the White House has managed to draw us in. I expect to travel to London by way of Lisbon. I shall be at Wickthorpe Castle for a couple of weeks because my little daughter, Irma’s child, is there. I shall meet Gerald Albany and others of the Foreign Office. There will be several of those noble lords who have been your devoted friends. They will come, the moment the word spreads that there is a chap who has talked with the Führer face to face. You can’t imagine what an impression that produces—people won’t let me go to bed at night; they ask to go with me even when I take a walk. And right now is the critical time; the country is sick of the bloodshed, the food is growing scarce, the ships are going to the bottom, several of them every night—”
“They are beginning to feel the pinch, then!”
“They are in a desperate plight; and everywhere the governing classes are asking: ‘Why, why do we have to fight this man who ought to be our friend? Why can’t we have a truce, and let him go after the real enemy of our civilization?’ Honestly, I do not exaggerate when I say, it might be the turning point—it might be just enough to cause the Conservative party leaders to get together and send you a secret emissary.”
“You want me to say that I’ll be satisfied with what I can get in Russia, and that I have no designs upon the British Empire, now or at any time?”
“I don’t want you to say anything, mein Führer; that is not the correct way to put the matter. It would be preposterous for me to make suggestions to a master of diplomacy like yourself. What I am doing as an act of friendship is to lay a set of facts before you. It is for you to examine them and make your own decision, and tell me what I am to say.”
“Ja, ja, Herr Budd. You may quote me as having said what I have just spoken, and say that I am ready to deal with any Englishman, anywhere, on that basis.”
“You won’t change your mind, lieber Freund? I mean, when your agents in Britain report to you that I have been saying this in London drawing-rooms, you won’t feel that I have been betraying a confidence or committing a presumption?”
A World to Win Page 36
