by Ward Wagher
“I'm not sure I follow,” Goering said.
“I'm thinking if we can shadow the English bombers with our airplanes, we can guide the fighters to them.”
“Ahh. I believe I understand, Herr Partieleiter. That is a clever idea. We did have an English bomber land in France back in June and we recovered an intact device from it.”
He began scribbling notes on the pad on his desk. “I will get our engineers to look at this. They said something about the Englanders using a different frequency. But, we have been working to duplicate their efforts.”
Schloss tossed his head to the side. “It is nothing. An idea that just occurred to me. If our English friends persist in their night attacks, we must convince them the Luftwaffe rules the night.”
“Rules the Night,” Goering repeated. “That's very good. “I must talk to Goebbels about a poster with that phrase. It would help morale.”
Schloss looked around the office. Goering had decorated it with paintings and statuary. He wondered how much of it Goering had looted from the Jews. The man was a kleptomaniac and Schloss also wondered how much he had stolen from the Reich.
“And how goes the jet engine development, Herr Reichsmarshall?”
“As you know, I raised the priority of this program at your suggestion,” Goering said. “It is too soon to see the results of that change, but we now have over one-hundred engineers in the program. Messerschmidt expects to fly the prototype next spring.”
“I thought you told me it would be soon.”
Goering looked embarrassed. “I did, and I apologize. The engineers have run into one thing after another. They did not tell me of the delay until I specifically asked them.”
“When did you find out?” Schloss asked.
“Just earlier this morning, Herr Partieleiter.”
“Can we make things happen more quickly?”
“Please, Herr Partieleiter, the impossible takes a little longer,” Goering laughed. “The problem is not with the airframe, but with the engines.”
Schloss chuckled. “The difficult we accomplish immediately?”
“Exactly. We are developing an entirely new kind of engine. I am not even sure they are practical.”
“What do you need?”
Goering picked up a pencil on his desk and used it to dig in his ear. Schloss decided it was revolting.
“The engineers tell me there are several critical materials that are in short supply in Germany.”
“Who has them?”
“The Americans, naturally. The Russians have some. I believe there are some in Norway.”
“Okay, Norway we can handle,” Schloss said. “You probably should have Ribbentrop put together a trade delegation to see if we can convince Stalin to sell us more.”
“There is always the problem of what Stalin wants in return,” Goering said. “We extracted considerable benefit from the agreement we concluded with them this past January.”
“I don't think that matters.”
“What do you mean?”
Goering scraped the tip of the pencil off along the edge of his desk. Schloss was very careful not to wince, although it was not easy.
“I don't think the Russian economic model will hold up in the long run,” Shloss said. “It will eventually come crashing down upon them. Any time Stalin trades us raw materials for manufactured goods, it only helps us. It keeps our factories running and our workers in jobs. It keeps them from investing in the very things that will help them advance.”
“That's very interesting, Herr Partieleiter. As usual you bring a unique perspective to things. Is that why you were so adamant in your opposition to Barbarossa?”
“In part,” Schloss said. “An attack would unite them, and bring out their patriotism. If we leave them alone, they will eventually turn against their leaders. The way they are right now, they are more like our colony. They are always preaching about the exploitation of labor by capitalism. Well, I would like to do a lot of exploiting.”
Goering laughed again. “That's very good.”
“Let me get to the purpose of this meeting then,” Schloss said.
“Of course, Herr Partieleiter. However, we have already covered a lot of business.”
“True. We need to discuss our U-Boat dispositions. We have the Americans talking to us, for a change. I do not want to do anything to disturb that happy state of affairs.”
“I have already sent the order not to attack merchant ships in the north Atlantic.”
“I would like to shift a major portion to the Mediterranean. What are the implications?”
“We have basing rights in Italy – in La Spezia. We would probably need to upgrade the port, and perhaps add others. Admiral Doenitz does not like the Mediterranean for U-Boat operations. The water is shallow in spots and is clear enough airplanes can see the U-boats at great depth.”
“Is he likely to give you problems over this?” Schloss asked.
Goering pulled one side of his mouth back in a frown. “I don't know. Not in the long run, anyway. But we do need to consider the risks. How many U-Boats do you have in mind?”
“We still have to protect our interests in the Atlantic. Say, one-hundred?”
“One-hundred?”
“As a start. We have an army in North Africa that has been difficult to supply.”
“Malta.” Goering stated flatly.
“Correct. It has been a rather massive thorn in our sides.”
Goering nodded. “The English have managed to make complete nuisances of themselves there.”
“Then we interdict. Let them wither on the vine.”
“That is not so easily done,” Goering said. “The English Navy usually manages to get convoys through. U-Boat operations are a challenge there.”
“But the geography favors us, does it not?”
“One would think so. The English control Gibraltar, Egypt and the Levant. We have everything else.”
“And the Commonwealth armies in North Africa,” Schloss said.
“Correct, but they are supplied out of Egypt.”
“And we need to get in a position to take Palestine and Iraq,” Schloss said.
“You know the Russians have claimed the Persian Gulf area as their sphere of influence.”
Schloss stopped to think. Let's see, I think this was the proposal from the Russians naming their price for joining the Axis.
“I have forgotten, Herr Goering. Did we respond to that proposal?”
“As far as I know, we did not,” he replied.
“We must talk about this in one of our general meetings.”
“What do you have in mind?”
Schloss rubbed his hand across his mouth. “Just speculation, you understand, but what if we proposed to divide the area between us and the Russians. We would give them Persia and we would take Iraq and Palestine. There's a lot of worthless desert, but I think maybe there's a lot of oil under the sands.”
“That bears thinking about, Herr Partieleiter.”
Schloss looked over at Rainer, who was sitting at the side of the room taking notes. “Did you get that, Karl?”
“Yes, Herr Partieleiter.”
He looked back at Goering. “So, the first order of business is to clean the Royal Navy from the Mediterranean. Can we do that?”
“Absolutely,” Goering affirmed.
Schloss stared at the Reichsmarshall. “I am not the Fuhrer, Hermann. I need an honest answer. If we cannot do this, I want to know about now so we can make other plans. I do not want to be sitting here six months from now with no U-Boats left in the Med and the English running rampant.”
Goering blanched. “I can assure you, Herr Partieleiter I am telling you the truth as I know it!”
“Do you believe everything your people tell you?”
“My staff is quite competent.”
And this idiot lost the Battle of Britain for Hitler when he didn't need to.
Schloss took a deep breath. “We have a little time,
Herr Reichsmarshall. I would appreciate your using some of it to probe deeper into our capabilities. Talk to the Kriegsmarine. Get their unvarnished assessment of what is required to operate down there.”
“Of course, Herr Partieleiter.”
“Now, what are our petroleum supplies look like if we commit to sustained air operations?” Schloss asked.
“Quite good, actually,” the portly man answered. “We had built up stocks in anticipation of Barbarossa. Plus, we have the air wings back from the east.”
“And we can reinforce around the Mediterranean.”
“Correct.”
“What else was there?” Schloss asked.
“I believe our luncheon is prepared,” Goering said.
“Very well.”
Goering rose from his desk and led the way through a side door in the office into an elaborate meeting room. Two places had been set at one end of the table. Schloss crooked an eyebrow at Rainer, then slipped into the chair indicated by Goering. After the Reichsmarshall was seated, the white-jacketed stewards began serving the meal.
The portions were enormous, and Goering seemed not to be intimidated by the amount of food. Rainer sat at a chair two spaces down from the two men and continued taking notes.
“Himmler is talking about going ahead with the Final Solution,” Goering said.
“Is that so?”
“Surely you have heard, Herr Partieleiter. I know that you are not in favor of Himmler's plans.”
“Who told you that?” Schloss asked.
Goering had just shoved an enormous fork-load of potatoes into his mouth. He quickly chewed, then took a sip of water. Schloss was faintly repulsed, but glad the other had not tried to talk with his mouth full of food.
“You seem intent on securing Palestine. I just assumed you desired to move the Jews there.”
Schloss stared at Goering until the large man blushed. “I apologize, Herr Partieleiter. I meant no harm.”
Schloss waited thirty seconds longer before speaking. “And what is your opinion of this, Herr Reichsmarshall?” he asked quietly.
Rainre had stopped writing and now watched Goering.
“I... I support you, of course. What Himmler is talking about is very bad.”
“Suppose you were now talking to Bormann. What would you say.”
Goering's hands were now shaking. “Please, Herr Partieleiter. Sometimes one has to say and do unpleasant things simply to survive.”
And I wonder how our beloved Reichsmarshall would react if I vomited all over his table. I cannot eat another bite in this room.
Schloss stood up. “What price survival, Herr Goering? That SS Swine is getting ready to murder millions of human beings and you are talking about protecting your fat ass! You really are a poor excuse for a human being, you know that?”
“Herr Partieleiter, I am supporting you. I want you to succeed. I am very frightened.”
Schloss stared at him for a few moments. “Very well. You will support me, or I will kill you. If you betray me to Himmler, I will kill you. Do we have an understanding?”
“Jawohl, Herr Partieleiter!” Goering's double chins quivered as he spoke. “I will do whatever you say.”
“Come, Karl. Let us leave before I throw up all over Herr Goering's magnificent lunch.”
Schloss turned and quickly marched out of Goering's meeting room. Rainer had to scramble out of his chair and walk quickly to catch up. Schloss clattered down the marble stairs of the Air Ministry and out to the street. His car was waiting. Schloss stopped, and looked up the street.
“Walk with me, Karl.”
“Of course, Herr Partieleiter.”
Schloss began walking north on Wilhelmstrasse and Rainer walked alongside him. Behind them, his driver made a quick U-turn and followed discretely.
“I am running out of adjectives to describe these people we must work with, Karl.”
“I can probably give you some suggestions,” Rainer said.
Schloss laughed. “And I apologize for that insufferable Boor. I was amazed to walk into his meeting room and find only two places set.”
“That is no problem, Herr Partieleiter,” Rainer replied quickly.
“It is a problem. To a lot of these people, no one else is quite real. Goering would be capable of feeding you to the furnace along with the Jews without a qualm in order to save his putrefying carcass.”
“I don't know what to say.”
Schloss smiled at Rainer, but it was not a friendly smile. Rainer shivered in spite of the summer heat. “Sometimes, Karl, when you don't know what to say, it's best to say nothing.”
“Of course, Herr Partieleiter.”
The Nazi Party Leader turned into a small restaurant. “Come, you and I will share a meal. You are much more pleasant company than that porcine slob in the Air Ministry.”
“If you will pardon me for saying so, Herr Partieleiter, sometimes you have to work with the slime.”
“Of course I will pardon you, Karl. But, you don't have to remind me. To be honest, I believe Goering's problems are not his morals. It's his lack of courage. We will use him, Karl. But we must always remember he is an imperfect tool.”
Karl Rainer shivered again as he followed Schloss into the restaurant.
CHAPTER TWENTY
July 24, 1941 – 10 PM
Hannover, Germany
Rudolf Hess was amazed. With the help of some of Goebbels' minions, he had put together a speech and then delivered it at the Party Hall in Hannover. He had brought the crowd to their feet in enthusiasm. Although he had always been popular with the people, his previous speeches had been politely received. This was something new in his experience. After years of being put down by other senior members of the party, there was a real appreciative reaction from the audience.
Perhaps, he thought to himself, he was finally coming into his own. He was fulfilling a critical role in Germany after the death of the Fuhrer. Hess had become somewhat disenchanted with the Nazis in general and the Fuhrer in particular. They did not realize, in his thinking, the dangers they were courting in planning to invade Russia. Like him, Heinrich Schloss saw things clearly. The two of them could do great things for the Fatherland.
“Herr Deputy-Fuhrer, we have prepared a little supper for you just the way you like it.” The hotel manager was properly obsequious towards Hess and well he should be.
“Thank you, Herr Detweiler. You are giving very good service as usual.”
Hess walked into the hotel dining room where the maître d’ showed him to his favorite table. Almost immediately a parade of waiters marched out to his table carrying the platters of food he liked most. No meat, of course. Hess was a vegetarian. He also neither smoked nor drank. In this he was much like Hitler.
Could it be that I would be the natural heir to the Fuhrer? he asked himself. The crowds do not react nearly as enthusiastically to any of the other party speakers.
The waiter set a glass of water on the table. “Will there be anything else, Herr Deputy-Fuhrer?”
Hess shook his head. “No. Thank you. This looks very good.”
During the enjoyable meal, Hess looked up to see one of the local party members pull out a chair and sit down across from him. Hess disliked being interrupted during his meal, however Lyrius Hannover, II had been a friend for years.
“A fine speech, Herr Deputy-Fuhrer,” he said.
“Thank you, Lyrius. It seemed to go well from my perspective.”
“I had never realized how good you are at this sort of thing,” he continued. “The people were quite impressed.”
“To be very honest, Lyrius, I had a lot of help putting the speech together.”
“That may be true,” the other man countered, “but who in a position like yours has time to write his own speeches. It is clear to me that the speech reflected your true beliefs.”
“Of course,” Hess said. “We do have a tough job ahead without the Fuhrer.”
“Such a tragic, useless acciden
t,” Hannover said. “Is it true the aeroplane was sabotaged by the Jews?”
Hess gave him an old-fashioned look. “Come on, Lyrius, what do you think? It wouldn't do to blame the accident on shoddy maintenance in the Luftwaffe.”
“I understand. But I still cannot believe he is gone.”
“But life goes on,” Hess said. “The government is settling down again, and we are getting our arms around the challenges.”
“Please do not take offense,” Hannover said, “but I wondered if you might not be appointed the new Fuhrer.”
“None taken. No, we have a consensus government at this time. I can represent Germany to the world, but I do not have final authority.”
“Is that so? Then you are not running things.”
“No,” Hess said. “The two Heinrichs hold the balance of power between them.”
“That would be Himmler and...”
“Schloss,” Hess answered. “He is the party leader – he replaced Bormann. He is extremely competent.”
“I have not met him,” Hannover said. “What is he like?”
“He is very no-nonsense. He is absolutely dedicated to Germany. He truly thinks in terms of what will safeguard the thousand-year Reich.”
“But what does Himmler think?”
“Himmler hates him and doesn't trust him.”
“So what else is new?” Hannover asked.
Hess shook his head as smiled at his friend. “I largely share your opinion, but you would be wise not to share that widely.”
“And I don't,” Hannover said. “I did have another thing I wanted to bring before you.”
Hess decided his dinner was already ruined, so he motioned the other man to proceed.
“We need a new Gauleiter here in Hannover. I'm a member of the party in good standing, plus I get along well with the people here.”
“And you think you're the best candidate for the Gauleiter position,” Hess said.
“I am not going to attempt to act humble, Herr Deputy-Fuhrer. I think I am a very good candidate for the position.”
“I do not necessarily disagree. However, the Partieleiter is the one who makes those decisions.”
“I thought perhaps you might have some influence with him,” Hannover said.
