Resolute Nazi

by Wagher, Ward

  “Very well. I do not want to disturb him. Please ask General Milch to come to see me.”

  “At once, Herr Reich Chancellor. Herr Rainer is here and asking for a moment of your time.”

  “I will speak to Herr Rainer,” Schloss said. “Give me a minute to take care of the effects of the coffee.”

  A few minutes later, Schloss returned from the toilet to find Karl Rainer seated in his office. He walked over and picked up the carafe and refilled his coffee cup. He held the carafe and raised an eyebrow to Rainer.

  “No thanks, Herr Schloss. I don’t understand how you can drink so much coffee. After three or four cups, I start getting jumpy.”

  “I don’t think I could get through the day without coffee,” Schloss replied. “I wonder if it is not an addiction.”

  “That term might be a bit strong.”

  Schloss dropped back into his chair. “So how can I help the SS today, Karl?”

  “Have you given any more thought to Goering’s replacement?”

  “Not to put too fine a point to it, no. Other than Schneller Heinz, there is no one in the OKW that I trust. Milch is doing a decent job in Goering’s absence, but he did not inspire me when he filled in for Hermann before.”

  During the previous year, Schloss had forced Goering into a recuperative hospital stay to wean him off his morphine addiction. Goering had remained clean but was now fighting terminal cancer.

  “Milch is a mechanic,” Rainer commented. “He has done a fine job working with Heinkel to get the Boeing bomber into production. I don’t know if you were aware of this, but he is largely responsible for smoothing out the Me-262 production and getting so many of the jets into the air.”

  “I think Hermann views Milch as a threat,” Schloss said. “Honestly, he didn’t have anything to worry about.”

  In my world, Milch schemed against everybody. I do not think I need that in the Government Council.

  “I understand what you are saying,” Rainer said. “Milch also has some friends in the SS. I have not dropped the hammer on them because they are not doing anything treasonous. It is more along the lines of enhancing their positions in the pecking order.”

  Schloss snorted. “We will always have that. And, by the way, I just told Willem to have Milch come and see me.”

  “And this is in…”

  “I just interviewed Konrad Zuse. He is developing some computational tools that I think will ultimately be strategic for us. He is not getting the resources he needs.”

  “To be honest, Herr Schloss,” Rainer replied, “I probably wouldn’t have given him a lot of resources either. He is making some interesting toys, but I haven’t seen the practical value.”

  “I understand what you are saying, Karl. I believe we need to view Zuse’s machines as the next step beyond the IBM tabulating machines that everybody around here uses.”

  “IBM makes fine equipment,” Rainer said.

  “Indeed, and that may be a part of the problem. The current equipment works too well. I think we need to drive research in this area. I think we have just scratched the surface of what we can do with mechanical computation. It could be essential to Germany.”

  Rainer tilted his head slightly as he regarded Schloss. “This would be another one of those Herr Schloss ideas, then?”

  Schloss laughed. “Karl, you are too polite. With the war, we are short on manpower. Think of this as a workforce multiplier. If we can have one machine replace a room full of clerks, it frees them up for the factory, or maybe the army. What I have in mind is for Zuse to form a company to manufacture his machines. It would start a new industry.”

  “Once again you are looking farther ahead than I am capable of seeing,” Rainer stated. “Very well, but I would like to get back to the original topic.”

  “Hermann probably isn’t going to be around much longer,” Schloss said.

  “Yes, that is a problem.”

  “Karl, you can probably guess how many times I was sorely tempted to have you take Goering out and shoot him?”

  “Probably as many times as I was tempted to do it myself.”

  “And yet he has become an indispensable member of the government,” Schloss said. “I do not want to manage the OKW directly.”

  Hitler eventually was forced to do that and look where it got him.

  “You may have to promote Guderian,” Rainer commented.

  “Yes, I may. We’re getting ready to lose Model and his army. Can we afford to have Guderian distracted?”

  “If I may suggest this, Herr Schloss, General Guderian is already the defense minister in all but name. Over the past months, Goering has relied more and more on him as his health failed.”

  “You may be right there,” Schloss conceded. “He has managed to instill some discipline into the OKW.”

  “I would suggest that you appoint him acting defense minister when the time comes but instruct him to keep a low profile and focus on prosecuting the war. Guderian already attends most of the council meetings, anyway.”

  “That is probably good advice, Karl. Thank you.”

  Rainer stood up. “Unless there is anything else, I am sure you have much on your desk.”

  Schloss laughed. “You have no idea.”

  “Unfortunately, I think I do.”

  With that, Rainer marched out of the office. Schloss sighed and poured himself another cup of coffee. The stack of paper had not shrunk. He thought maybe he could plow through some of it before Erhard Milch arrived.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  July 1, 1943; 10 AM

  Prime Minister’s Meeting Room

  Government House

  Tokyo, Japan

  “It has been nearly two months, and I see no progress on the Hawaii problem,” Yamamoto said.

  “There had been some small reinforcements of our forces there,” Admiral Shimada replied. “We are not getting a lot of cooperation from either the Navy or the Army.”

  “Very well,” Yamamoto instructed, “tell me about the Navy first.”

  “We have several admirals who have yet to accept your position, Prime Minister,” Shimada replied.

  “Is this something you surmise, or do you have direct evidence?”

  Shimada shook his head. “For now, it is a matter of my belief. I have the investigative service looking into the matter. They are not disobeying orders, but they do not seem to be moving with alacrity.”

  Yamamoto looked over at General Homma. “And the Army has been slow in getting the troops lined up to embark, correct?”

  “To my shame, Prime Minister,” Homma replied. “In this case, I believe it to be simple incompetence. General Ciera has been supportive; however, he is not someone who engenders a lot of confidence in his abilities.”

  “You all realize that this makes our loss of the Hawaiian Islands a certainty, rather than a probability,” Yamamoto stated heatedly. “I am disappointed that you have not managed this well. Either of you.”

  Shimada and Homma both stared at the Prime Minister. He usually showed his displeasure by expressing disappointment; however, this time his anger raged behind the mask. Both men stood and bowed.

  “We have failed the Emperor,” Shimada said.

  “We are clearly at fault,” Homma added.

  Yamamoto glared at them for nearly a minute before the anger faded, and he could speak again.

  “Sit down, please, Gentlemen. I must follow my own teachings and treat this as a learning experience. I trust you will do the same.”

  Both men bowed and retook their chairs. It was very quiet in the meeting room. Yamamoto stood up and eased over to the large map mounted on the wall. Clasping his hands behind his back, he studied the map in silence, apparently deep in thought. After a while, he turned to the assembled group.

  “Are the reinforcements ready to sail?”

  Shimada and Homma answered in the affirmative.

  “I believe we should dispatch those troops to Western Australia.”

 
“But what about Hawaii?” Shimada asked.

  “Hawaii is lost.” He gave Homma a crooked smile. “This is an opportunity to practice a retreat under fire. We need to withdraw as many of our warriors as possible. We are going to need them. Badly.”

  “We just give up that territory, like that?” Homma protested. “Our men are prepared to fight to the last man.”

  “And we are honored that they are willing to give their lives for the emperor like that,” Yamamoto responded. “But the end is not in doubt. The Americans can afford to lose more men than Japan.”

  “We risk the ships that will pick up the army,” Shimada cautioned. “The Americans now unquestionably hold control of the air.”

  “So, we slip in during the night and pull the people out.” Yamamoto shook his head. “No, I leave the details to you. The Americans fool easily. Let them look the other way as you manage the withdrawal.”

  “And we send our troops to Australia?” Homma asked. “Should we not consider strengthening the home islands?”

  “A good point,” the Prime Minister replied. “But I believe our ability to support Australia directly may soon be infringed. The key to winning this war depends on holding Australia. If we have people there, we can take advantage of the resources. At some point, Australia will have to defend itself.”

  “If it comes to that, will we not already have lost the war?” Shimada asked.

  “I think we need to develop a strategy for this, but we may be able to hold Australia hostage to the Americans and the British. After what they found in Hawaii, they will be frantic to rescue Australia.”

  “The wholesale murder has stopped in Australia,” Homma said. “What remains are routine law enforcement activities. And that must continue.”

  Yamamoto nodded. “Very well. That will still be something we must answer for, eventually.”

  “I have thought on this,” Homma continued. “I have come to understand that what we have done to the people of Australia and Hawaii was terrible. It makes me ashamed to have been a part of something like that, however indirectly.”

  “You are wise, General,” Yamamoto said. “And you realize duty lies heavy on those who accept the truth.”

  “It does, Prime Minister. And it complicates our effort to end this war.”

  Yamamoto turned and studied the map further. The west coast of North America was still an attractive target.

  “Could we consider another strike against San Diego or perhaps Seattle as a way to draw the Americans off of Hawaii?” Homma asked.

  “We have two new-build carriers ready to sail,” Shimada said, “along with three or four light carriers. I do not think that is a heavy enough weight of metal to sail in those waters. The Americans are now vigilant.”

  Yamamoto turned to the map again. “I somehow think our best opportunities are to the southeast. We do not have the carrier decks to stand up to the Americans at Hawaii, and the American west coast is too risky.”

  “Putting another fleet into the Bay of Bengal would be counter-intuitive,” Shimada stated. “But that makes it attractive.”

  “How soon can we assemble a task force to sail to Singapore?” Yamamoto asked.

  “We were assembling it for Hawaii,” Shimada said. “It could sail within a week at most.”

  Yamamoto studied the maps once more and then turned back to the men gathered in the room.

  “Send the order, Admiral,” he said. “Let’s get the task force to Singapore. While they are on the way, we will develop the plans. And send a warning to our forces in Western Australia. I somehow think the British and the Americans are going to attempt a landing there.”

  “Surely not!” Homma exclaimed.

  “We did not expect them to land on Hawaii,” Shimada stated.

  “True, but we know they do not have a lot of sealift out of Trincomalee.”

  “I believe that is where the threat lies,” Yamamoto said. “It will take six months to a year for the Americans to get settled enough in Hawaii to consider further activities. Besides, that is a long way to support a strike in our areas. If the British somehow manage to effect a landing in Perth or somewhere on the west coast of Australia, our lives will be increasingly complicated.”

  “Are you thinking a raid on Trincomalee?” Homma asked.

  “That is one option. We need to think and discuss this more. Meanwhile, General Homma, I would like you to begin reinforcing our coastal defenses. I believe the Americans will have a pretty good idea of our available forces. If they become aware that we have most of our remaining carriers in Singapore, they may be tempted to strike the home islands.”

  “I have been working on that since the previous raid,” Homma stated. “The shortage of aviation fuel has made patrolling difficult.”

  Yamamoto looked at Shimada. “Are we starting to get oil from Borneo?”

  “Yes, Prime Minister. In the short term, we should be able to restore our stocks in the home islands quickly.”

  “Very well,” Yamamoto said. “I believe we all have our instructions.”

  § § §

  July 2, 1943; 5 PM

  United States Embassy

  Blucher Palace

  Berlin Germany

  Howard Simpson looked around the small apartment after following Misty in. She expected a reaction from him and was not disappointed.

  “You could certainly afford something better than this, Misty,” he growled. “The money from your grandfather’s estate accumulates faster than you can spend it, anyway.”

  The stocky middle-aged man turned and leaned his umbrella against the wall beside the door and turned back to face his daughter.

  “I know I could, Daddy, but this is much more convenient. Plus, I don’t have to worry about break-ins here, and I can eat in the cafeteria whenever I please.”

  He grunted. “There’s something to be said for convenience, I suppose. Is the food in the cafeteria edible?”

  She giggled. “What do you think? I usually go out somewhere. But it is there when I need it.”

  “I have a suite at the Adlon. Why don’t you stay there with me over the weekend? It would be more convenient for both of us.”

  “Thanks, Daddy. That’s a good idea. Besides, if I stray around here, Smoke will likely try to find something for me to do.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  “He’s an ass. But he is surprisingly successful. He says the most ridiculous things, but always lands on his feet.”

  “Native cunning, eh?” he said.

  “I suppose that would be the best way to describe him.”

  “And you get along with him, I suppose?” her father asked.

  “Not in the least,” she replied. “I have to keep him pruned back all the time, and he finds that painful.”

  Howard laughed. “That’s my girl. I somehow suspect Ambassador Smoke is not that much of a challenge for you.”

  “Not at all. But he is annoying.”

  “If you would like to pack a bag, Misty, we can drop it off at the hotel before we go to dinner.”

  “Give me just a minute.” And she disappeared into her bedroom.

  He heard drawers open and close as he wandered around the small sitting room. Misty had never been a particularly neat girl, and the stacks of books and empty cups littering the room demonstrated that. She needed a place with a small staff to pick up after her. He wasn’t sure she would tolerate that, though. She had always been comfortable in herself and didn’t need people to be around her all the time.

  While Howard felt that Misty had inherited his drive and ability to lead, she had also favored her mother’s desire for solitude. He supposed that was a good characteristic for someone working on the sharp edge of William Donovan’s spear.

  She walked out of the bedroom carrying her suitcase.

  “Let me carry that for you, Darling.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  They walked through the embassy and out the front door. Howard paid attention to
how the marine guards reacted. It was interesting. One of them had stepped out to the street and hailed a cab for them. That meant they regarded her as one of their own. If she was respected that much by the marine ranks, she had been very successful at the embassy.

  He looked out of the cab as the cityscape streamed past. Berlin seemed very much alive compared to London. And then there were Misty’s cryptic references in her letters to people she wanted him to meet. It was clear she was not referring to the Ambassador.

  “Thoughtful of you to arrange dinner tonight,” he murmured.

  She stared out her window for a few moments before turning to him.

  “I suppose I need your advice, Daddy. I am seeing a man who has captured my interest, and I am not sure how to respond.”

  “Considering the short way you had with the boys at Columbia,” he said with a smile, “it must be serious if you have not told him to shove off.”

  “I just am not sure what to do,” she said.

  He grinned at her. “In other words, you have it bad.”

  She looked quickly ahead. The cab driver was pulling up to the Adlon.

  “Should I hold the cab?” Howard asked.

  “Dinner is at 8 o’clock,” she replied.

  “Fine.”

  He pulled a roll of Reichsmarks from his pocket and peeled several off for the driver. The driver quickly trotted around to the trunk to retrieve Misty’s suitcase. She complimented him in German and thanked him.

  “You speak German like a native,” he said as they walked towards the doors of the hotel.

  “I have been working on it,” she replied. “The people here are much easier to deal with if you speak the language.”

  “And you don’t do anything by half-measures,” he laughed.

  At 8 PM they were shown to their table at the restaurant. Karl Rainer was already there and stood up as they approached.

  “Daddy, I would like you to meet Karl Rainer,” she said. He noted a slight quaver in her voice.

  “Howard Simpson,” he said, reaching out to shake hands with Rainer.

  “An honor to meet you, Sir. Misty has told me a lot of good things about you.”