by Ward Wagher
“I like the Italians,” Chase said. “Their army is no great shakes, but I’ve heard their Navy is decent. Plus, they are nice people.”
Gorber stretched his arms over his head. “I guess that’s neither here nor there. Make the call, Vince. Whenever we can turn the well site over to the company, we’ll give the boys a vacation. Then we start on the next well.”
“I’ll see to it, Boss.”
Gorber walked over to the tiny office he used and sat down. This had been a very satisfying operation for him. The first well came in and was putting out decent quantities of oil. The Germans were happy with things. This gave them another oil field that was under their direct control. This field probably would not generate anything nearly like some of the fields in the Persian Gulf, but the Germans had learned first-hand how fickle the governments there could be. He guessed that sooner or later, Ribbentrop would figure out a way to regain a presence in Baghdad.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
March 9, 1943; 9 AM
Chartwell
Westerham, Kent
United Kingdom
“So good of you to come see me, Mister Morton,” Winston Churchill said.
“My boss at the Institute told me my primary responsibility was to make myself available to you, Sir,” Desmond Morton said. “Your desires seem to match up well with the mission of the Institute, anyway. And, I was happy to come.”
“I believe we have another trip to Europe in your future,” the former prime minister said. “I assume you saw the memo from Six about the labor unrest in Germany.”
“Yes, I did. It’s a little unusual for classified material like that to come into my possession, even if I do have the clearance.”
Churchill nodded. “The report came to me by a slightly irregular method. I requested that they also route a copy to you. Did you find it useful?”
“Oh yes I did, Sir. What would you wish of me?”
“I would like you to plan another trip to the continent. After you have arrived someone will deliver to you the names and addresses of several of the more outstanding labor leaders in Germany. Our desire is to fund their activities. Along with the names and addresses, you will also receive some cash.”
“Will it not be risky?” Morton asked.
Churchill waved a hand. “There is always a certain amount of risk associated with these activities. But what you will be doing is not in and of itself illegal either here or in Germany. I would suggest you have the Institute prepare some pamphlets on the importance of education to the workers. If your activities come to the attention of Herr Rainer, we believe the worst case is that they will escort you out of the country.”
“This is going rather far afield from my defense research work,” Morton commented.
“No, no,” Churchill stated. “We have selected union leaders from areas where Germany has their defense industries. You will go about your routine business of visiting the various companies. Where you go for dinner in the evenings is, of course, up to you. But that may be a good opportunity to meet with some of these people. It would give you a good cover — you would simply call it a chance meeting.”
Morton looked nervous. “I do not mind confessing to you, Sir, that this makes me a bit nervous. What are we trying to achieve in this operation?”
“I would like to encourage the current union protests enough to slow down the German economy. It is currently growing faster than ours. It is important to maintain a balance of power in favor of the British Empire.”
Morton rolled his tongue around inside his cheek as he thought. “I believe I understand. Who do I need to contact at the Institute?”
“Oh, your boss is one of us. There is a group of us who are using… somewhat irregular means to support the government and the country. This allows us to accomplish some things but still give the Prime Minister and the Queen deniability. That is very important. And, perhaps, I have spoken too much.”
“That is actually very useful to me. I have a much better idea of what we’re trying to achieve. My main concern is that I have no training as a spy.”
“You are not a spy,” Churchill laughed. “You have a legitimate reason to visit Germany, and they have in fact encouraged it. We are just adding a little bit of what I would call on the side activity. It is nothing you should worry over much about.”
“Very well, I shall endeavor to fulfill your desires. Now, is there anything else that I may do for you, Sir?”
“You have already done so. By helping me you are serving the nation, and that is very important to me.”
“If there is nothing further, then, I think I can just catch the next train back to London.”
Churchill stood, and laid his cigar in the ashtray. He clasped both his hands on Morton’s right-hand and gave him a warm smile.
“Britain owes you a great debt,” Churchill said.
Morton looked into Churchill’s eyes and decided he would willingly follow the man into hell if that was what it took to preserve the country. He decided that not only was the Queen guilty of making poor decisions, but she had also greatly wronged Winston Churchill. Morton looked forward to the day when all these things could be set to right.
He felt almost liberated as he walked away from the front door to Chartwell and climbed into his hired car. For the first time since his dismissal from the Prime Minister’s offices, he understood why he was doing the things he was. He had a mission, and he was excited about it.
Churchill watched Morton Drive off, and then returned to his office. He felt some guilt about what he had done. There was indeed a greater degree of risk then he had confided to Morton. But that was why one had foot soldiers in the war. If he was perchance arrested passing out money to the union leaders, the blowback would at worst land on Morton’s boss. But it would stop there. The men in his group understood the overarching importance of insulating themselves from Churchill. He was the king in this chess game and had to be protected at all costs.
Churchill sat down at his desk and opened the ledger book for his estate. The group of men who supported him were able to move in the shadows and were able to siphon cash from various agencies, primarily MI6. Unfortunately, he did not think it would be enough to retain Chartwell in the long run. There were limits to what they could slip out of the treasury unnoticed, and there were limits to what he could funnel into his accounts without the tax man getting suspicious.
He thought about this a bit and pondered the idea that had come to him during the night. Perhaps he could arrange to give talks to some of the right-thinking clubs and associations. He could pass the hat for donations to directly support his upkeep. This would be legal and above board. Some of his friends could contribute fairly significant amounts of cash in this manner, and it would be untraceable.
He lit up his cigar again and continued thinking about it. He had recently learned not to fall in love with his ideas and get in a hurry. The major failures in his life were the result of that type of thinking, and he tried very hard to learn from it. But for him, the bottom line was to preserve the Empire and preserve the Crown. He would cheerfully sacrifice himself to achieve those ends, but he really didn’t plan to be caught.
§ § §
March 10, 1943; 2 PM
Imperial Naval headquarters
Tokyo, Japan
Prime Minister Yamamoto stood looking at the map displayed on the large table. Surrounding the table were the senior officers of the Army and Navy, as well as the recently appointed members of the General Staff. The map displayed the entire Pacific region from the Japanese home islands to Australia and the East Indies.
Yamamoto spoke. “We now have confirmed our initial intelligence that the British fleet has arrived in Trincomalee, and there are unconfirmed reports that it has been reinforced by elements of the American Atlantic fleet. Does anyone have anything further to add to this assessment?”
“Do we have information on the composition of the fleet?” one of the admirals asked.
“The bulk of the force seems to be represented by heavy cruisers,” the senior Naval Intelligence analyst answered. “We think that there are four aircraft carriers in the mix, as well as several battleships. We can guess that there will be the usual collection of escorts and submarines. An interesting point we received from the London dockyards is that there is an unusually heavy representation of fleet replenishment vessels.”
“Hmmm,” Yamamoto pondered. “We can infer that the British are preparing for extended operations in the southern Indian Ocean. The question before us today, gentlemen, is what will they do with this weapon they have forged?”
“This appears to be a Navy problem,” one of the generals said. “What are we even doing here, today?”
“Perhaps I may answer the question, Prime Minister,” said the Grand Admiral who was the chairman of the general staff.
Yamamoto nodded, giving his permission.
“The British and the Americans very likely have stripped their Atlantic fleets bare to support this operation. If that is the case, then they will be able to achieve local superiority wherever they happen to press their offensive. They could very well manage to put troops on the ground somewhere. If that were to be the case, what would you do, General?” The chairman into the question in a shout.
The general blustered. “Why, why we would push them back into the sea immediately. They would not be able to stand against our troops. No one can. To even consider otherwise is defeatism and foolish on the face of it!”
“And were you able to shoot down the American airplanes that bombed Tokyo two months ago?” one of the admirals asked quietly.
“You have no business even discussing that issue,” the General shouted. “That is Army business and not the business of the Navy.”
The chairman now spoke quietly and firmly. “That is neither Army nor Navy business. It is the business of the Armed Forces of Imperial Japan. You will consider your attitude, and whether you can serve the nation rather than merely your service branch.”
“I refuse to submit my judgment to the Navy! That is not the way we do things. I appeal to the Emperor.”
“The Emperor has made his wishes abundantly clear,” Yamamoto murmured. “I represent the Emperor.”
“I do not accept that!” The General again shouted. “The Army will make its wishes very clear.”
“Then you are dismissed,” the chairman said. “You will instruct your second-in-command to report to me. You are now retired.”
“I will not allow that,” the General shouted.
He began clawing at the snap on the holster of his service revolver. He suddenly found his arms pinned by the guards who had been standing by the door. His face went white.
The other men in the room avoided looking at the general. They stared at the chairman and the Prime Minister. Yamamoto looked at the chairman and nodded.
“You are guilty of mutiny,” the chairman said. “You have brought shame upon your family, upon your unit, upon the Army, and upon the nation. You will now be given the opportunity to expiate that sin.”
One of the guards pulled the general’s hand away from the holster and pulled his service revolver out and laid it on the table. They then turned and frog-marched the general from the room. It grew very quiet. Finally, the chairman spoke.
“Does anyone wish to join the general in his rebellion?”
Everyone stared at the chairman, but no one spoke.
“I thought not. Let us continue with our discussion. The question of the day is where will the English strike? They will obviously strike somewhere. To allow everyone to discuss this freely I will call on the lowest ranking member to offer his views first.”
The conversation picked up as the officers debated whether the English fleet would attack Singapore or Australia. Opinion was divided, but Yamamoto looked on in approval as the Army and the Navy officers debated the options. And, it was a tough question. The Prime Minister wondered if the British themselves had not made up their minds. To his thinking, Singapore would be the primary strategic objective of the British. If they could take and hold it, they would have their bridgehead to Australia. If they tried to take Australia first, they would not have the resources to interdict Japanese shipping and would, therefore, have great difficulty in pushing the Japanese army off of the subcontinent.
He nodded as the chairman skillfully guided the debate. He regretted the actions of the general, but one man’s life would easily pay for the discipline of the military general staff. If Japan had any hope of winning this war, their service arms had to quit fighting one another. He was under no illusions that all would be sweetness and light among the general officers, but he was very much aware that the process had to start at the top.
Emperor Hirohito had agreed and supported each of Yamamoto’s decisions regarding the Armed Forces. The American raid that had killed Tojo had served as a wake-up call to the Emperor. Yamamoto felt that he was now in a position to organize a workable defense against what was sure to be the oncoming onslaught.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
March 10, 1943; 2 PM
Blohm & Voss Shipyard
Hamburg, Germany
The long, lean, low shape lying in the harbor next to the dock resembled nothing so much as a deep-gray colored shark, Schloss thought as he looked at the first of the new generation of U-boats to be commissioned. The breeze off the North Sea was bitterly cold, in spite of the signs of spring they saw as they traveled to the commissioning ceremony.
Gisela stood next to him, as she held his hand. He had spoken briefly at the ceremony and congratulated the representatives of the Navy as well as those from the manufacturer for getting the U-boat into production so quickly. Blohm and Voss had tooled up, expecting a major commitment from the government for the U-boats, but now that the war was over, the urgency was missing.
Schloss and Goering had debated recently on the size of the order that would be necessary for this model of U-boat. Goering wanted to order one hundred of the warships and retire the entire fleet of wartime boats. Schloss understood the reasoning and was privately amazed at Goering’s efforts to support the Navy, but he wondered if it might not be wise to build maybe twenty-five of the model XXIII boats, and also quickly work on a totally new generation of U-boat. The workup of the new boat proved without a doubt that the XXIII was a vast improvement over the wartime boats. But the builders had accepted a lot of compromises to get the thing built quickly. He wanted to see what the Kriegsmarine and the boat yards could do with a clean sheet of paper.
Besides, the next threat was not of a blockade by a foreign Navy, but an assault over the plains of Eastern Europe. Guderian and Goering were furiously hammering together a new generation of armor and aircraft to preserve the Fatherland against an expected Soviet invasion. The U-boats would be merely an incidental item, except possibly as a means of raising foreign exchange. The Americans had signaled that they wished to buy the new U-boats, and this had sparked intense debate within the government Council.
Ribbentrop favored selling the new U-boats to the Americans, albeit with a hefty markup. Goering refused to transfer Germany’s latest U-boat know-how for fear the Americans would quickly transfer these secrets to the English. Sooner or later the government needed to reach a consensus on the proposed sale. Schloss was inclined to let the sale go through if Germany was allowed to build things. He knew they badly needed the foreign exchange.
The ceremony was over with, and Schloss remained for a while to greet the dignitaries. Everyone was very pleased with themselves and for good reason. Schloss turned to Admiral Raeder.
“I am very pleased to see the first of these new boats ready to go to sea, Admiral” Schloss said.
“This is the finest quality we have ever seen for a new class of warship,” Admiral Raeder said. “I am not able to often compliment the builders, however, I will in this case. They have done themselves proud.”
One of the Blohm and Voss representatives was standing
within earshot, and he beamed as he swelled with pride. Normally the Navy was hesitant to praise the builders, for fear the builders would take advantage of the situation.
“I believe we also set a new record for getting a new class of boat into service.”
The Admiral nodded happily. “They have also paid a lot of attention to ease of manufacture. We should be able to build hundreds of these. I think that will increase the respect for Germany around the world.”
Schloss nodded, as though in agreement. If the Admiral was not aware of his thoughts of limiting the size of this class of boat, he certainly wasn’t going to tell him today. In his other world, where he was a history professor, and Berlin was divided, he knew that Raeder was a warmonger, and obsessed with maintaining the budget for a surface fleet. There was no need for Germany to go down that road, but this was not the day to debate that.
Schloss shook hands with Admiral Karl Doenitz, who was also beaming. In his world, Schloss mused, Doenitz eventually had replaced Raeder. In this reality where he now lived, that event had not happened. Schloss wondered if he would eventually have to ask for Raeder’s resignation. He really could not afford to fire everyone who was potentially incompetent. Besides, the Navy was not that important at the moment.
Goering had been mingling with some of the workers who represented the builder on this day. He then wandered over to where the enlisted crew of the new U-boat was assigned seating for the ceremony. He spent time shaking hands and slapping backs and making jokes with men, who were beaming at the attention given by a key member of the government. Schloss thought to himself, once again, that Goering did this extremely well. The flamboyant Reichsmarshall now made his way to where Schloss and Gisela stood.
“This is a great day, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Goering shouted. “I am amazed at how quickly and how well our people got this U-boat together. I am very pleased.”
