by Ward Wagher
# # #
December 10, 1941; 11 AM
Nazi Party Headquarters, Berlin
Heinrich Schloss was at his desk struggling the never-ending mass of paperwork that seemed designed to strangle any personal initiative he might have discovered that Wednesday morning. He had been in a sour mood since spending all of Sunday in the office without hearing any news from the Far East. The Japanese had not struck Pearl Harbor that Sunday morning. The best intelligence from Ambassador Ott in Tokyo was that the Japanese fleet was at sea. As to whether the Japanese had heeded his warning, or some other event intervened, Schloss did not know.
Waiting for the Japanese to do whatever they were planning was wearing on Schloss. If the attack happened, how would the Americans respond? Could he keep Germany out of a wider and more disastrous war? He was sure the people in his office were wondering if he was losing his mind. Schloss wondered the same thing.
Kirke tapped on the door and slipped in to place a German Armed Forces bulletin on his desk. These bulletins were written whenever something significant happened that the people in the government needed to know about. Schloss picked up the bulletin and began reading.
A few minutes later he laid the paper down and shouted. “Kirke!”
“Yes, Herr Partieleiter?”
“See if you can get the Reichsmarshall on the phone.”
“At once, Herr Partieleiter.”
When his phone rang, Schloss picked it up.
“I assume you have just read the military bulletin,” Goering chuckled.
“Yes, and what happened, Hermann?” Schloss asked.
“We are still trying to determine exactly what happened, Herr Schloss. As you know we had a raid planned for the docks at Gravesend. The weather was particularly messy overnight and we had one bomber group got separated. We are reviewing the mission with him now. It appears to our best estimates that he bombed the rail yards of Bletchley, which is north of London.”
“Never heard of it,” Schloss said.
“Neither had I. Judging from the English reaction, we seemed to have been extraordinarily lucky.”
“What did we hit?”
“We do not know. We may never know. But it certainly lit up the English radio networks. They were screaming for assets to go after the bombers, and in the clear too. I would say that whatever we hit, we certainly rattled our English cousins.”
“And that is not something that happens often,” Schloss said.
“Indeed,” Goering chuckled again. “I have asked our intelligence arm to try to discover what it was we hit. We had no idea anything of significance was in Bletchley.”
“A good hiding place, in other words.”
“Exactly.”
Schloss nodded. “If you find out anything else, Herr Reichsmarshall...”
“Of course, Herr Partieleiter. I will telephone you immediately.”
Schloss put the phone down and went back to the paperwork. He smiled. Bletchley Park was the center for English computational and scientific code breaking activities. It sounded like they had just lost a significant part of their intelligence establishment. He was willing to accept these occasional pieces of luck that came his way. He thought, perhaps, it would be at least a year before he needed to worry about the English decoding the German signal traffic.
His mood somewhat improved, he got out of his chair and opened the door.
“Kirke, tell the guards I want to eat out this noon.”
“Of course, Herr Partieleiter.”
He noticed Rainer sitting at one of the desks, apparently catching up on the clerical work associated with running a guard force. He walked over to the other man.
“How's it going, Karl?”
Rainer looked up. The immobile shoulder and pain-etched face told him Rainer was far from recovered. But the man was determined to work.
“The paperwork is just a mess, Herr Partieleiter.”
“It looks like you are making an honest effort at straightening things out, then,” he said. “I was wondering if you would care to join me for lunch. It would be a chance to get caught up on things.”
“Of course, Herr Partieleiter. I would be delighted.”
“Schlempke has been outstanding while you were incapacitated.”
“Thank you, Sir. He has impressed me as well.”
# # #
December 10, 1941; 9 PM
Schleswig Theatre, Berlin
Not being superstitious, Schloss never worried about deju vu as he sat back stage of the auditorium in Berlin once again as he watched Hess give a speech. The difference was in Hess's stagecraft. At that first speech the Deputy Fuhrer was almost tentative. Now he exuded confidence as he grasped the podium on the sides and delivered his oration.
He could not see the audience from his position, but the people were responding readily to the points Hess made in his speech. He had adroitly turned attention from domestic issues and painting the British Lion as a man-eater, ferociously tearing the flesh of God-fearing Germans wherever they were encountered. His condemnation of the English massacre of the Jews at Haifa brought the audience to its feet in anger in a way Schloss would never have believed. Hess painted the Jews as less fortunate little brothers under the protection of the Germans. Providing them a homeland was now the sacred trust of the German nation.
Even though Schloss and Rainer had written the speech, Hess turned the pastels they created into the bold vibrant colors of German nationalism. He was offering verbal candy to the audience, and they were eagerly taking from his hand and consuming the new mission of the German folk. Schloss was once again amazed at the towering gift of speech Hess demonstrated. He found himself praying he could continue to manage Hess. Here was the key to turning Germany around.
Schloss then worked to rein in his emotions. He now understood why the people wanted to make him their new Fuhrer. He wanted to make Hess the new Fuhrer, even if he was a sock puppet. It was critical to make Hess understand whose foot was in that sock puppet. Schloss remembered visiting an ancient wood worker when he was a boy. He was examining a shaping knife when the old man eased it out of his grasp. He explained how the sharpest tools were not only the most effective, but also the most dangerous. And Hess was dangerous indeed.
Hess skillfully built the audience up until he was able to show them the vista of the thousand year Reich and the wondrous hope of that future. Not only was the crowd on its feet, but the people began stamping their feet and crying out Heil Hess! Heil Hess! Heil Hess!
Suddenly the praise from the audience turned into a thunderous roar. The shouts now turned to Nein! Nein! Nein! And the reaction was furious anger. What was happening?
Schloss jumped to his feet and walked towards the curtain where he could see. A pair of Gestapo thugs had stepped up on to the stage and were attempting to take Hess into custody. When the crowd began yelling louder, two more Gestapo agents stepped on to the stage. One of them pulled out his aluminum disk and held it up to the crowd along with his hand. He began shouting something, but the crowd redoubled in noise.
Schloss felt hands on his arm and looked over to see Schlempke. “We must leave, Herr Partieleiter. The crowd is getting out of control.”
“We must get Hess out of here,” Schloss said.
Schlempke shook his head. “There is no way. Come. Quickly.”
The guard led Schloss out the back door of the auditorium where his car waited, the engine running and the lights on. He quickly climbed in the back seat, and Schlempke climbed in the other door.
“Back to the Party Headquarters,” Schloss said. “Things are going to spin out of control if we don't get on top of this.”
“It may be too late,” the Schlempke said. “Everybody in the audience saw the Gestapo arrest Hess. That is too many people to hush things up.”
Ten minutes later Schloss walked into the outer office of his suite. Rainer was at work, and pulled himself to his feet with a groan.
“Karl, you don't need to rise
for me.”
“We need to speak, Herr Partieleiter,” he said.
“Very well. Come in to my office. Alden, see if you can find some coffee.”
Schloss tossed his overcoat across the credenza and dropped into his chair. Rainer gingerly eased himself into the chair across from Schloss's desk.
“I don't know why you thought you needed to be working tonight. You have not fully recovered.”
“One of the guards called me when things started coming apart at the theater.”
“Okay, things were starting to get out of control,” Schloss said. “Schlempke decided I needed to be elsewhere.”
“Herr Schloss,” Rainer said, “Heinrich. Hess is dead.”
“What?” Schloss stood up quickly. “What did you say?”
“There was a riot in the auditorium. The audience mobbed the stage – trying to rescue Hess, I think. The Gestapo started shooting. One of them turned and jammed his gun in Hess's mouth and pulled the trigger.”
“How... how do you know this?”
“There were quite a few of our people in the audience. In fact, one of our guards was at the back and saw everything. He called me.”
Schloss sat back down with a sigh. He stared at the desk and tried to think. It seemed his worst fears were materializing.
“Herr Partieleiter?”
“Just a moment, Karl. I need to think.”
Schlempke tapped on the door and opened it. “Herr Partieleiter, the Reichsmarshall is on the telephone for you.”
“Now what?” Schloss said as he picked up the instrument.
“Hess is dead,” Goering said without preamble.
“You had people in the auditorium as well?” Schloss asked.
There was a pause. “Of course, Herr Partieleiter. I should have realized you would have the building covered as well. What happened?”
“I was back stage,” Schloss said. “Hess had just delivered probably the most powerful speech I have ever heard. The audience was going berserk. You know they were ready to crown him by acclamation.”
“I understand what you are saying.”
“Well, a couple of Gestapo clowns walked up on stage and tried to arrest him.”
“Mein Gott!” Goering said. “What was Himmler thinking?”
“Right. And the audience began climbing on stage to rescue Hess. The clowns pulled out their guns and started shooting. One of the turned and shot Hess. It was not accidental, Hermann. We had probably better get everybody together first thing tomorrow morning, because things are, no doubt, rapidly sliding out of control.”
“Mein Gott,” Goering said again, it seemed to himself. “Very well, Herr Partieleiter. I will notify everyone.” He paused. “Heinrich, this is a very dangerous time,” he said quietly.
“Things are balanced on a knife edge.”
“I believe I shall ask some Luftwaffe officers I trust to provide some extra security. Is there anything I can provide to you?”
“I think I am adequately covered for security,” Schloss said. “I will see you tomorrow, Hermann.”
“There was one other thing, Herr Partieleiter.”
“Go on.”
“Our people monitoring broadcasts from the BBC picked up something interesting. The Japanese have attacked the American naval base in Hawaii.”
Schloss felt his heart skip a beat and the strength drain out of his legs.
“You know how to make my day complete, Herr Reichsmarshall.”
“I know you were interested in the Far East. I assume this was what you were watching for.”
“I am not sure I would phrase it in that manner,” Schloss said. “But thank you for the news.”
“Have a good evening,” Goering said with heavy irony.
Whatever one can say about Hermann's shortcomings, and they are legion, Schloss thought, the man is rock steady under fire. I keep forgetting he is a hero of last war. He has courage.
Schloss set down the telephone and yelled, “Schlempke!”
The guard opened the door and stepped into the office. “Yes, Herr Partieleiter?”
“Have you seen to the security around this building?”
“I have done so, Herr Partieleiter. The building is secure.”
“Then you'd better get the key people in here. We have a lot to do before the government meets tomorrow.”
“At once, Herr Partieleiter.”
Schloss looked over at Rainer. “Okay, Karl. Since you were foolish enough to come into the office tonight, you and I are going to have to make some plans for tomorrow.”
Rainer cocked his head. “Of course, Herr Partieleiter. I am here to serve.”
“Sooner or later you will regret making statements like that.”
“Every day, Sir.”
Schloss just shook his head.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
December 11, 1941; 3 AM
Schloss residence, Charlottenburg, Berlin
Schloss quietly eased through the front door of his house, and made his way up the stairs. Once in his bedroom he closed the door softly and turned on a lamp. He heard a gasp, and turned quickly, pulling out his gun. Gisela was sitting up in his bed, looking as surprised as he felt.
“What are you doing here?” he whispered.
“Frau Marsden telephoned me last evening and suggested I come over here. She thought it would be safer.”
“What did she tell you?”
“Only that things were unsettled,” she replied. “Heinrich, what is going on?”
“Hess gave a speech at the auditorium tonight… last night. The Gestapo tried to arrest him and the crowd rioted. Hess is dead.”
She slid out of the bed, donned her robe, and walked over to Schloss.
“Darling, I am frightened.”
“That is a very reasonable reaction, I think,” he said. “Things are very dangerous right now.”
“But, what are we going to do?”
“I do not know,” he said. “At the moment I am making things up as I go along, and I don’t need to tell you the risks.”
Schloss turned at the sound of tapping on the door. He took one step to the door and pulled it open.
“I did not know you would be home tonight, Herr Schloss,” Frau Marsden said. “Frau Badhoff, you may come sleep in my room.”
“I am just home to shower and change. I need to get back to the office soon.”
“But, it is not proper for your two to be in here together.”
“Frau Marsden, this is not the time to start issuing orders…” He stopped when Gisela placed her hand on his arm.
“I will go downstairs, Frau Marsden.” She turned to him. “I will see you before you leave again.”
Gisela pulled the door open wider to slip past Frau Marsden, and stopped when she saw Renate standing in the hall.
“So we are having family time now?” Schloss asked.
“Tell me what is happening,” Renate whispered.
“Herr Schloss needs to change clothes and return to the office,” Frau Marsden said to Renate.
“Patience, Frau Marsden,” Schloss said. He looked at Renate. “The Gestapo tried to arrest Hess at his speech last night. There was a riot and Hess was killed. Things are unsettled.”
She looked at Schloss for a few moments; then visibly shook herself. “Please be quick about your shower, Hennie. I will get ready and ride to the office with you.”
“Fine. Perhaps you should get Peter up. I’m surprised Ribbentrop hasn’t called him in.”
“Peter went to the Foreign Ministry at about ten last night.”
“Oh. Good. I don’t think Von Ribbentrop can visit the toilet unassisted, lest he accidentally drown.”
Frau Marsden snorted. “Herr Schloss. Go ahead and take your shower. I will lay out your clothes for you.”
Schloss smiled. “I believe I have received my instructions.”
“Some of the people in this house would not know what to do without instruction,” she grumped.
> “I believe that effectively answers you, Brother mine,” Renate said with a smile.
“I will try not to drown myself in the bath,” Schloss said.
“And I will take myself downstairs,” Gisela said.
“Herr Schloss,” Frau Marsden said, “I am very sorry you had to come home and find someone using your bed. I am embarrassed.”
“You did exactly the right thing,” he said. “I am going to assign a couple of guards to her. Please do not let her leave the house in the morning without them.”
“I understand, and I think that is wise. Can you tell me, how did Herr Hess come to grief?”
He looked at her as he made up his mind. “During the riot, one of the Gestapo agents jammed his gun in Hess's mouth and pulled the trigger.”
The news did not seem to shock her. “At least the poor man did not suffer.”
“There is that, I suppose. He probably had a moment of disbelief; a brief one.”
“I know Herr Hess was a weak man,” she said. “But this greatly complicates things for you.”
“It seems everything is coming unraveled.”
She put her hand on his shoulder. “I am confident you will find the courage and strength to do whatever is necessary today.”
“You're more confident than I am,” he said. “Now I'd better get that shower so I do not keep my sister waiting.”
Later Schloss softly eased down the staircase to the foyer. Renate waited near the door.
“Wait here,” he said as he turned and walked into the kitchen.
Frau Marsden stood in the kitchen, her back to the kitchen counter and facing him.
“You knew I would be coming to see you,” he said quietly.
She nodded.
“I need to know,” he said.
“I am here to serve your family and you, of course.” She was curiously subdued.
“You knew all this would happen, didn't you?”
She shrugged. “Some events are clear. Others, not so much. It has been clear the Nazis would eventually destroy themselves. Such evil cannot be stable for long. The question became one of whether or not they would destroy the country along with themselves.”
