by Ward Wagher
“You got that, Jolly?” Carper said to Rogers. The executive officer had materialized behind them holding the Is-Was.
“If everything hangs in there, Skipper, we can launch from this bearing in five minutes.”
Carper nodded thoughtfully. “Very well, Jolly. Let’s get this locked in. You will launch in five minutes. Following the launch, we will turn starboard ninety and accelerate the flank speed as we dive to 400.”
Rogers nodded. “Aye, Skipper. Launch and five. Steer starboard ninety, take us to flank speed and dive to 400.”
“Acknowledged,” Carper replied.
The tension ratcheted up as they waited to launch the torpedoes. The Hessian was barely making turns for steerage and was very quiet. Carper could just barely begin to hear the noise of the destroyer through the hull when Rogers gave the order to shoot. The gurgling, snorting sound of the water ram echoed through the boat as the torpedoes were pushed into the sea. The scream of their steam driven turbines was clearly audible.
Rogers gave the orders for the course and speed changes and started a stopwatch on his clipboard. He clicked the watch again at the point when the torpedoes should have arrived on target, and then started the countdown afresh. Ten seconds before the sound of the explosion was due to arrive, he reached out and tapped the hydrophone operator’s shoulder. The ratings slipped the headphones off so that the sound of the explosion would not damage his eardrums. The ten seconds came and passed, and they heard no sound.
“And… That’s a miss,” Carper said. “What’s the target doing?”
The rating put the headphones back on quickly and turned the knobs, tuning his device. “No change in the target, sir.”
Carper looked at Rogers. “Are they asleep up there? Those torpedoes make enough noise to wake the dead.”
Rogers shrugged. “I guess everyone is allowed one mistake, sir.”
“No, they’re not.” He turned to the hydrophone operator. “Is there anything else up there?”
“Just our one friend, Skipper. There’s nothing else out there that I can hear.”
“Sheesh!” Carper said. He thought for a few moments. “Okay, Jolly. Let’s reverse course and come to the surface.”
“Skipper, you’re not going to be able to catch him.”
“I know that. We need to get the batteries charged, and I don’t want him sneaking up our backside. Please see to the torpedo tube reloads.”
“Torpedoes in the water!” The hydrophone operator sang out.
Carper spun around and stepped over to the operator. “Talk to me, sailor.”
“Okay, sir. I think Lentz has fired on that destroyer.
“It’s ahead of us, moving port to starboard. Sir, that’s gotta be Lentz.”
“What’s target one doing?”
“Just motoring along, Sir.”
“That guy must be an idiot,” Rogers commented. “How can you not hear a torpedo run?”
A few minutes later a deep rumbling swept over the boat.
“I’d call that a hit,” Rogers commented.
“Take us to periscope depth,” Carper commanded. “Make turns for two knots.”
“Periscope depth, and turns for two knots, aye, aye, Sir.”
Carper looked at the wreckage of the Japanese destroyer as it slowly slipped beneath the waves. We got one anyway, he thought to himself.
“Come to our original course,” he ordered. “We’ll stay submerged for a bit, and then surface to get the batteries topped off before daybreak.”
“Aye, aye, Sir,” Rogers replied.
CHAPTER THIRTY
February 23, 1943; 12:15 PM
Opel Werke
Russelsheim, Germany
Wilfrid Vogel looked across the polished tile floor at the prim-looking man eating his lunch in corner of the room. He turned back to the older man sitting across the table from him.
“You can ignore Verlin Schechter, Anton. The Nazis don’t seem to be paying attention to the German Labor Front anymore. It’s time we do something about the miserly wages that Opel pays us.”
“But the labor front and the KdF have taken good care of us,” Anton Keller protested. “They have provided this cafeteria and our wonderful vacations. Of course, the pay is not too good, but it seems to me that the other benefits from the government offset that.”
“But you can’t eat a summer vacation, Anton. The cruise ship to Norway won’t pay for your apartment. And none of us could dream of even purchasing an automobile. We are doing all the work, and the capitalists are reaping the rewards. We should be receiving some of it. It is our right!”
Keller laid his hand on Vogel’s arm. “Not so loud, Wilfrid. I don’t want Schechter to hear us. He could still make trouble for us. This is the best job I’ve ever had.”
Vogel lowered his voice. “Listen, Anton,” he hissed. “We’ve rented the Wehrmacht Retirees Hall for a meeting this evening. Why don’t you come? There are some people there I think you would like to hear.”
“What so we can go out into the streets and have the Polizei break our heads? I have four children at home. If I got caught in a workers’ riot, I would lose my job. My children and Odetta would be out on the street.”
“Nothing is going to go wrong, Anton. Besides, it won’t cost you anything to come and listen. It will be educational.”
“And if I end up in a jail cell for being disorderly, that will be an education, too. Thank you just the same, Wilfrid.”
That evening Anton sat next to his friend Wilfrid in a meeting along with about 100 Opel employees. They watched as another fellow worker, Klaus Freime, climbed onto the platform in front of the room.
“My friends,” he began, “thank you all for coming here tonight. We have a very special visitor who would like to speak to you. Please welcome Comrade Aurick.”
The group politely applauded as a tall, blonde, thickly-hewn man stepped up on the platform. Keller leaned over to whisper to Vogel.
“What have you done, Wilfrid?” Keller whispered loudly. “You brought a communist in here to speak to us?”
Vogel put a finger over his lips. “Ssshhh… ssshhh. Quietly, Anton,” he whispered. “Just listen to the man.”
“We are all crazy,” he whispered back. “We will all be in trouble. I cannot believe you, Wilfrid.”
“Just relax, Anton. Everything will be okay.”
Keller folded his arms in disgust. He had had serious doubts about attending this meeting anyway, not to mention having a communist as a speaker… Although things were much more relaxed under the new Reich Chancellor, the Nazis were still death on communism. He hoped he would get home to Odetta and the kids tonight.
“My friends,” Comrade Aurick said, opening his arms wide in a welcoming gesture, “thank you for inviting me to speak tonight. This is, indeed, a great honor. I would like to talk about the great oppression experienced by the German workers. There is hope for a new day, where you will all be paid a fair wage and have a much better life.”
Keller started to tune out the speaker but then decided that since he was here, he might as well pay attention. But he was more than ever convinced that Wilfrid Vogel was crazy.
Aurick spoke for forty-five minutes and explained how the German government through the German labor front, had defrauded the workers of millions of Reich marks. A new day would soon dawn for the German workers.
Keller thought about what the man was saying. It was true that things were currently difficult. He always ran out of money before he ran out of things that needed to be purchased. However, he also remembered the decade previously when 6 million Germans were on the streets during the depression. He had spent several years, as a young man, in a fruitless search for work. He never wanted to go through that again, so he was satisfied with the way things were now.
The meeting ended, and Keller stood up to leave. Vogel grabbed his arm.
“Come on, let’s go meet Comrade Aurick.”
“No, Wilfrid, you go. I am going
home.”
“Did you not find the speech interesting?”
“I found it very interesting. Now, I need to go home.”
Vogel shook his head as Keller marched out of the hall. Anton was so terrified of being on the street again that he did not want to raise his head for the slightest risk. Apparently, it required sterner stuff to get Germany ready for the new dawn. Vogel turned and made his way to the front of the small auditorium where he could introduce himself to Comrade Aurick.
Humbert Simon also stood up at the end of the speech and gazed carefully around the room. He had worked for Karl Rainer for four years and was delighted the SS was no longer sending dissenters to the camps. However, the organization did pay careful attention to what was going on among the populace. Simon assumed it was a desire on the part of the government not to be surprised.
He was known to the people in the hall as an assembly line worker at Opel Werke. He felt comfortable around these people, so he moved into the group and mingled. Besides, he liked them. He worked also for Karl Rainer because he did not want to see his fellow workers fooled by the likes of someone like Comrade Aurick. He would go home later and write up his report on the evening, and it would soon be on Rainer’s desk.
§ § §
February 26, 1943; 9 AM
10 Downing Street
London, England, UK
“So good of you to meet me, Prime Minister,” Anthony Eden said.
“You may not think it so good after we finish this meeting, Anthony,” Clement Attlee said.
Eden, the Foreign Minister, raised an eyebrow. “What have the Americans done now?”
Attlee chuckled. “No, the cousins are behaving themselves for the moment. They did, however, notify me that they would be sending Harold Stark over to liaise with us — between our two navies, anyway.”
“That is interesting,” Eden replied, “I thought Stark was their Chief of Naval Operations.”
“He was until the beginning of this week. President Truman is finally convinced that they need to communicate better with us. The first Lord of the Admiralty knows him and thinks highly of him. On balance it should be of great benefit.”
“Good for the Americans, then.”
“Right,” Attlee agreed. “The reason for our meeting today is that the Queen has instructed me to develop better relationships with the Germans.”
Eden crossed his legs and clasped his hands together as he tried to think. He looked up at the Prime Minister.
“Has our sovereign…”
Attlee interrupted him. “Her Majesty is still involving herself in the particulars of the government, Anthony. This is a directive she has given me. I do not feel that the timing is right to risk a constitutional crisis over it.”
“But, Clement, she has created the constitutional crisis herself, by involving herself in the overall direction of the government.”
Attlee shook his head. “No, Anthony. Winston caused the constitutional crisis. Our monarch has assumed the role of the janitor and is cleaning up the mess we made of things. She is as aware of the risks as you or I. Furthermore, she recognizes the risks to the House of Windsor if the Commons gets the bit in their teeth. I trust you are keeping your department under control.”
“I assure you I am keeping a lid on things at the Foreign Ministry,” Eden replied. “I am hearing more grumbling from the house, though.”
“From the Tory MPs?”
“Yes, among others.”
Attlee leaned forward in his chair and tapped the top of the desk with his index finger. “You are the head of the party now, Anthony. You’re going to have to get with the whip and sit on these people. I can assure you that I am doing the same thing on the Labor side of the aisle. There are some people in the house who simply do not understand how fragile things are right now. If I need to drop the hammer of God on somebody, regardless of which party, the Queen will back me up. And you will support me also. But surely you understand why we can’t let that happen.”
Eden stared at the Prime Minister for a long time. Finally, he spoke quietly.
“And she given any indication of when she will turn the reins back over to you, Clement?”
“No, but she knows she must do this sooner or later. Beyond that, she will not commit.”
“This bothers me a great deal,” Eden said.
1Attlee laughed harshly. “Do not fool yourself, Anthony. This bothers all of us a great deal.”
Eden sat and pondered the conversation for several moments.
“Very well, Clement,” he said with a sigh. “What is it that you want me to do?”
“I want you to go see the German Foreign Minister. The Queen wants us to negotiate a trade treaty with Germany. She did not dictate the details, however, she said that she thinks the only way to avoid another war in twenty years is to bind us together so tightly in a trade relationship that we would not even consider it.”
“She’s right,” Eden said. “We start trading with them, we start intermarrying with them again, and twenty years from now we will be best friends.” His face suddenly twisted up in a look of anguish. “But how can we morally stand aside and sweep under the rug what we allowed Hitler to do to the European continent. Bad enough that we abandon our allies to end the war, but now we are going to sup with the devil.”
“I cannot argue with anything you have said,” Attlee said. “But the world has changed. We have to consider whether or not we are willing to change with it.”
“Are you suggesting I resign?” Eden asked.
“No, I am not, Minister. If you cannot do this, then yes you should resign. However, the Queen’s expectation is that you will do your job, and she will shoulder the responsibility. She is prepared to sacrifice everything she holds dear for the sake of the country. For her sake, I believe we need to stand behind her and make this thing work. Do you understand what I am telling you?”
Eden stood up. Attlee was briefly frightened that the Foreign Minister was getting ready to resign.
“I understand, Clement. When you put it that way, I suppose I have no choice but to do the best I can to make things work. You have my support, however concerned I am about the ultimate outcome.”
“The phrase for Queen and Country has come to be significant, has it not it?”
Eden shook his head sadly. “If we can do everything necessary to help Margaret get us through this rough patch, she will go down as the greatest queen in our history. And, deservedly so.”
“And if we do not, she will be the greatest villain.”
The foreign minister sighed. “We have our work cut out for us, Clement. Rest assured I will be rowing with you.”
Attlee stood up and reached to shake hands with Eden. “That is all any of us can do right now. Thank you.”
“Fine, Eden said. “How do you want me to approach this?”
The Prime Minister grinned and threw his arms in the air. “I don’t know. But I am confident you will find the best way to follow the directive. I have always admired your deft diplomacy. If it weren’t for some of your unfortunate domestic policy positions, I would wish you would join me in Labour.”
Anthony Eden laughed loudly. “God help us all if I joined you in the Labour Party. Now, that would be a constitutional crisis.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
February 26, 1943; 5 PM
American Embassy
Blucher Palace
Berlin, Germany
It was the end of business hours in the embassy, and Misty Simpson carefully removed all the work items from her desk and locked them away. While she would normally work at least half a day Saturdays, and sometimes the entire day, she was conscientious about operational security. It wouldn’t do to have someone from the embassy staff to wander in and see sensitive material on her desk, or if, God help us, that person Gordon Smoke spotted something. He would never let Misty forget it if something like that happened.
At that moment, Smoke actually bounced into her office. S
he briefly wondered if the man could read minds. While he normally worked with his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his tie pulled down from the collar, he was now wearing his suit jacket and was the picture of sartorial excellence.
“Going a meeting somewhere, Gordie?” she asked with saccharine sweetness.
“Yes, yes, I am meeting with the Portuguese ambassador for drinks and dinner. I suppose you will be dining with one of your boyfriends.”
“Boyfriends, Gordie?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I have a couple of gentlemen friends. And yes, I shall be seeing one of them tonight.”
“I would think you would be careful about being seen in public with Major what’s-his-name. Something like that cannot help your mission to get closer to the German government, specifically Karl Rainer.”
“And I had thought you were beginning to learn to mind your own business,” she responded icily.
“If word got back to director Donovan, I’m sure he would have something to say about it. He might just pull you out of here, girlie.”
“Assuming there’s anything that director Donovan needs to know, you can be sure I would tell him,” she flared.
Smoke folded his arms as he leaned against the door jam. “I am concerned that you would not.”
She jumped to her feet. “What you are saying is that you would go running to Mommy and tell on me? Why don’t you just get out of my office and let me do my job?”
He turned and sauntered away with a smirk. They both knew he had won that volley, and it pleased him. She continued putting documents in the desk drawers and slamming the drawers shut. She was furious at Smoke for his insinuations, and she was furious with herself for letting it bother her. She decided that since it had been so quiet for the past month or so, they were both itching for a fight.
There was a tap at the door, and she looked up quickly to see Lane Johnson standing in the opening.
“Oh,” she exclaimed. “Hi.”
“Hi. I was just in to see the military attaché and realized it was quitting time. Are you free to take dinner with me tonight?”
