Inconsequential Nazi

by Ward Wagher

  Doolittle smiled. “We have actually proven it can be done. We marked off the length of the carrier deck on the runway at the Eglin Auxiliary field so we could practice. It is interesting to watch.”

  “I’ll just bet it is,” Fletcher commented.

  “With the carrier at speed,” Doolittle continued, “we should have no problem getting everything in the air.”

  “How many aircraft will you plan on using?” Lloyd asked.

  “I think it will be about sixteen,” Doolittle replied. “The squadron is still shaking itself out and will be at Alameda within the next couple of weeks.”

  “And with sixteen bombers lashed to the deck,” Fletcher said, “we’ll be mother naked to the Japs if they happen to spot us, which they probably will.”

  “I do have some good news on that score,” Nimitz announced.

  The others looked at him expectantly.

  “Since the European war has stopped, the president and the joint chiefs have decided to begin shifting some of the Atlantic fleet over to us. Yorktown is on her way, along with whatever odds and sods they can scrape up. You should have a fairly respectable little squadron to fly your flag over, Admiral.”

  “So, Yorktown would provide the air cover?”

  “Right. She is going to head directly to San Francisco, and you will assemble your force there.”

  Fletcher had been sawing on his steak while listening. He liked his meat well done, but it did increase the effort required to cut through the steak. He picked up the piece of meat with his fork and was getting ready to put it into his mouth when he stopped and set his fork back down.

  “You know, Admiral, when I first heard about this, I thought it was the craziest thing I ever heard. I guess I still think it’s crazy. But I also think it might just be doable. And, it’s also a chance to give the Japs a black eye.”

  “You got it, Jack,” Nimitz said. “Colonel Doolittle has got to fly back up to Alameda in two days. While he is here, I want everyone to hammer out the details of the operation to my complete satisfaction.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral,” Fletcher said. “We really need to game this one out. Nobody’s ever done anything like this before. There’s no question we have to get it right the first time.”

  “The B-25 is a new airplane, too, isn’t it?” Lloyd asked.

  Doolittle nodded. “It hasn’t seen combat.”

  “I mean, it has just come into service, right?”

  “Well, yes, Norm. There have been no serious problems with the aircraft development. Since we’re limited to the continental United States, there hasn’t been an urgent need to get it into active use. This has actually worked in our favor. I think the airplane is very refined.”

  Lloyd sat, chewing his lip. Fletcher looked over at him.

  “Is there a problem, Captain?”

  Lloyd shook his head. “I guess not. I’m just trying to work all the permutations of the mission in my head. If one of the planes gets into trouble after takeoff, the crew would either have to bail out over the formation, or ditch. We may not have a lot of time to fish them out of the water.”

  “We can’t just leave them, in that case,” Doolittle spoke vigorously.

  “No, I wasn’t suggesting that,” Lloyd said. “I was just saying that we’re going to be awfully close to the Japanese home islands. We may be in a situation where we won’t have a lot of time. And a force of two carriers is awfully light for the area.”

  “I understand that, Captain,” Nimitz said. “Understand, though, that the president wants this to happen.”

  “I’m not arguing with the orders, Admiral,” Lloyd replied. “I do need to consider how to fight the ship after the bombers leave.”

  “God helping us, we won’t have to fight the ship,” Fletcher said. “I’d like to launch sometime early morning. That would allow us to withdraw while we are still under cover of darkness. We would be far enough out at daylight that it would be a stretch for the Japs to attack us.”

  “There is something to be said for being over the target at night,” Doolittle commented, “however everybody wants pictures of the raid, so it would have to be at least just before dawn.”

  “Going in at night has its advantages,” Nimitz commented. “However, this raid is as much for propaganda value as anything. We need good pictures.”

  “As long as it’s daylight when we get to the recovery airfield,” the Colonel continued.

  Fletcher grinned suddenly. “You know, I don’t believe the Japs are going to like this one bit.”

  Nimitz, who rarely smiled, now matched the grin. “And, it will be nice to have them reacting to us for a change.”

  “There is that,” Lloyd added to the conversation.

  “Is there anything else the Navy can supply, Colonel?” Nimitz asked.

  “Just so the dock workers don’t drop any of the birds in the drink when they are hoisting them on deck. I don’t think they would work very well if they had been soaked in salt water.”

  “Ha!” Fletcher barked. “That does lead me to suggest that we cover the critical pieces with tarps for the trip. This time of the year, the northern Pacific is not that calm.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Doolittle replied. “Thanks. Admiral, can you see if anything is available?”

  “Certainly,” Nimitz said. “I don’t think that will present a problem.”

  At that point, Nimitz put his hands on the arms of the chair and pushed himself to his feet.

  “Gentlemen, tomorrow will be a busy day for all of us. I think we should call it a night.”

  The other officers quickly stood up and chorused their good nights.

  CHAPTER NINE

  December 15, 1942; 10:00 AM

  Reich Chancellor’s Officers

  Reich Chancellery

  Berlin, Germany

  “It looks as though we will have Wagner’s rebellion wrapped up within the day,” the Reichsprotektor said.

  Schloss leaned back in his chair and gazed at his subordinate and friend. “And, do we expect to capture Wagner alive?”

  “The Gauleiter seems to be the type to let his henchmen fight to the death,” Rainer replied. “My people are picking up noise from their sources that Wagner is casting about for ways to slip out of Strasbourg before von Rundstedt arrives.”

  “Showing a lot of loyalty to his followers, eh?”

  Rainer’s eyebrows raised as he shrugged. “That group has always been more interested in what they can gain for themselves. There is no ideology to speak of. Even Hitler was wary of him.”

  “Can we assume that between the SS and the Army, we can catch Herr Wagner in the net, then?” Schloss asked.

  “Oh, I think you can safely say that. The question is more concerning what we should do with him when he is captured.”

  Schloss rubbed his chin. “I see. I think, Karl, that he should be remanded back to Berlin for trial.”

  “Can we afford to have a trial?”

  “Can we afford not to have a trial?” Schloss asked pointedly.

  It looks like Karl wants to shoot him and put in in an unmarked grave, Schloss thought. We have got to get away from that mindset.

  “I am concerned that a public trial will bring the Munich faction out onto the streets.”

  “Karl, we must get back into the position where we all live under the rule of law. We start with the worst offenders. If it gets some of the rest of the people up in arms, so be it. We will deal with it. Besides, it might bring some of the Munich faction out into the open.”

  “It concerns me,” Rainer said.

  “Listen, this is a direct challenge to our legitimacy. I want to show two things. First, we will not hesitate to slap down people like that. Secondly, we must educate the country to understand that everyone is subject to the law. Germany is a fairly law-abiding country, but the people have the tendency to perceive the rulers as the ones making the rules. That’s how we got Hitler.”

  “I simply worry about the risk
s, Herr Schloss.”

  “You know where we need to go,” Schloss said. “We both know the risks involved in this path. But, every other option leads to worse.”

  “Very well, Herr Reich Chancellor. I will make sure that Wagner is brought back to Berlin to stand trial.”

  “And we need to get the new Gauleiter in place and functioning as soon as possible. I want you to vet the local police and make sure they are reliable. We need the army back in the barracks.”

  “There is a lot of work to be done,” Rainer said.

  “I am not surprised. Is the town still standing?”

  “Surprisingly, yes. The local populace has been out and identifying Wagner’s people to the army.”

  “That’s interesting,” Schloss mused. “I think we need to make sure the new Gauleiter has a light touch.”

  “And there is some risk associated with that, too,” Rainer pointed out.

  “Of course, there is. Listen, Karl, somewhere in the future, I don’t know if it will be ten years, twenty or fifty, there will be a plebiscite. I want the people in Strasbourg to vote to remain a part of Germany. They need to recognize that the benefits of staying in the Reich outweigh leaving.”

  Rainer stared at Schloss. “And you have been planning for this?”

  “Of course not. At this stage, it is idle thought. We got things stopped with the English. We will spend the next several years getting the country stabilized. There are still too many radical Nazis around. But we will soon need to sit down and devise a plan to get us through the first hundred years of the Reich.”

  “Forgive me, Herr Schloss,” Rainer said, “I should have been thinking about that, as well.”

  “This is something we must think about. The United States will come out of this war with Japan as the preeminent power on the planet. And Stalin will view them as an existential threat. And we will be caught in the middle. I think the only way we can maintain our identity is for Europe to stay unified.”

  Rainer gazed into the distance as he thought. Then he looked at Schloss again. “As always, you give me a lot to think about.”

  “I will not always be sitting in this chair, Karl. We must build the institutions that will ensure the survival of a European Reich.”

  “Have you been planning this all along?”

  Schloss shook his head. “No, of course not. Oh, I knew we needed something other than a totalitarian order. But, as time goes on, I keep thinking about this. Between you, Peter and me, we need to think this through carefully. We’re on a tightrope, Karl. If we slip, millions will die, and Germany will be in ruins.”

  “If that is true, is it not safer just to make Wagner disappear?”

  “Believe me, that is tempting. But we have to start somewhere. If we are willing to put one of our own on trial for malfeasance, it will send a powerful message to our people, and also to the world. And, Karl, sometimes doing the right thing is the most difficult.”

  § § §

  December 15, 1942; 11:00 AM

  American Embassy

  Blucher Palace

  Berlin, Germany

  “You think it better to fly the airplanes over here before training the Germans?” Misty Simpson asked.

  “We can have training pilots fly many of the aircraft. Regular flight crews will bring the rest. The regular flight crews will get a ticket on a liner back to New York. The trainers will remain for six months or so to get the Germans comfortable with the aircraft,” Lane Johnson said.

  She looked across her desk at the tall, blond-haired officer. Although the man was dressed in a standard army uniform, it looked impeccable on him. The crispness of the edges matched his personality. He was very careful to say exactly what he meant. The man reminded her of her father.

  He had asked to meet with the embassy staff to arrange for someone to acclimatize the Americans who would be coming into the country. Gordon Smoke had immediately shuffled the task off to Misty. And Misty discovered that she did not mind at all meeting with Major Johnson.

  “I suppose our government is not comfortable with that many Germans running around the East Coast.”

  Johnson grinned. “I believe that was mentioned as well. It wasn’t that long ago we were nearly in a shooting war with them. I’m just as glad to have avoided that little tiff. We have enough problems in the Pacific right now.”

  She grinned. He had a disarming manner. “Are you going to be able to babysit that many people?”

  He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “I was hoping for some help along that line. Turning that many red-blooded Americans loose among the fräuleins might be traumatic for somebody.”

  “Don’t underestimate the fräuleins,” She laughed. “Some of them are pretty tough.”

  “The Colonel has tasked me with finding several captains and some military police to keep our people in line.”

  “I’m sure the Germans will appreciate that, Major.”

  Now, he laughed. “I’m sure. And call me Lane. When you say Major, I turn around to see who just walked through the door. I was a captain until just a few weeks ago.”

  “And I’m Misty. Where are you going to find the people to bring over here, anyway?”

  “Colonel Carlsen didn’t know, so he delegated it to me. I have a few contacts in the Pentagon. And, this project is important. In theory, I can have anything I ask for.”

  “The ambassador didn’t know what to do either, so he laid it on me,” she commented. “He’s actually better at what he does than you might think, but he is awfully hard to take.”

  “The Colonel can get on his high horse at times, but he’s generally not too bad to work for. He dumps most of the detail work on me, but, honestly, I’m better at it. He’s really good at breaking trail for me.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and considered the conversation. “This is a new embassy, and we’re still understaffed, but I’ve been instructed to make every effort to help you succeed. I think what we need to do is sit down and come up with all the areas where the Army will have to interface with the German government. Then I can liaise between the Army and the Government.”

  “Will they talk to you?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes. I have cultivated some very good contacts with the Germans. In fact, we are hosting a Christmas party here on the twentieth. I will put you and the colonel on the guest list. It would be a good chance to meet some of the movers and shakers here.”

  “I met the Reich Chancellor and the Reichsmarshall at the airport,” Johnson said thoughtfully.

  “That’s right. I had forgotten that. The Reichsprotektor will be at the party as well as some of the others. I think if we can develop the acquaintances, that will smooth the way considerably.”

  “I understand the competition for the license to build the B-17 over here turned into a food fight.”

  “I don’t know if I would characterize it as such,” Misty said, “but, I think the conversations became rather intense.”

  “Who is going to make that decision?” Johnson asked.

  “Technically the RLM makes the procurement decisions. This project will have Spear involved. Probably the Reichsmarshall will make the call. It could even go up to Herr Schloss.”

  “Okay. Listen, I suppose we should get busy on our tasks. Colonel Carlsen will want a report, and I want to be a good boy and turn in my homework.”

  “I think we could start after lunch.”

  “Would you object to continuing the discussion over lunch. I don’t know the best eating places here in Berlin just yet.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Why not?”

  Karl Rainer carefully placed his desk pen in its holder. He liked things orderly and his desk reflected his persona. To the left was a neatly layered stack of papers that he needed to read that day. On a corner of the desk was a wooden, stacked tray set that he used as his out-box. Four pencils, each carefully sharpened were lined up precisely along the right side of the desk blotter. The top of the cherry desk was polished
to a high sheen. An elderly Nazi party member carefully cleaned the office each night and made the desk itself impeccable. The old man had known Rainer since he was a child, and he brooked no interference in making sure the office was as correct as he could make it.

  Ever cautious, however, Rainer ensured that a party guard was in the office and observed the old man at work. Rainer made every effort to make sure nothing compromised his leadership of the SS. What he did was critical to the Fatherland. It was critical to Herr Schloss.

  And so, his frustrations occasionally boiled over. He understood Schloss’s need for a fair trial for Robert Wagner. But he worried that a public trial would reveal too many things that still needed to remain in the shadows. Wagner was an evil man. But he was no worse than many of the other Nazis. Rainer feared that the trial would put many of the other Nazis into a position where they had nothing to lose. And that would tear the country apart. It was his job to prevent that. However, he could not reconcile the contradictory needs presented to him by the Reich Chancellor.

  He stood up and walked over to the hat tree and buckled on his overcoat. After adjusting the hat on his head, he thought again how much he hated the SS uniform. It was yet another thing he was saddled with. He opened the door and stepped into his outer office.

  “Bring the car around,” he ordered. “I’m going out for lunch.”

  His secretary nodded and picked up the phone. “The Reichprotektor requires his car.” He listened for a moment and then hung up.

  “Thank you,” Rainer said as he walked toward the door.

  He realized he was being abrupt with his people and wondered why. He thought, perhaps, a weekend away from Berlin might be helpful. He was very tired. And tired people made bad decisions, he knew. He wished he could convince Misty Simpson to spend a weekend with him. He had carefully explained to her that his goal was not to get her in his bed. Rather, he wanted some uninterrupted time just to converse and relax.

  His travel guard materialized as he walked towards the front doors of the SS Headquarters. Three cars were lined up in front. Another guard waited at the center car, a 1939 Mercedes 600. He nodded as the guard opened the door.”