These Fragile Regimes, page 2
part #10 of Parallel Nazi Series
“Herr Reich Chancellor, we are honored to be a part of the defense of the Reich. It is always sobering to be at the leading edge of new developments, but we have something that no one else can touch in terms of performance.”
“For how long, Herr General?” Schloss asked.
Stumpf immediately responded. “We think it will be five years before the Russians could mount an effective defense. The aircraft itself should be an effective platform for fifteen to twenty years.”
“Can it be effective if the Russians, for example, can shoot it down in five years?”
“You present some imponderables, Herr Reich Chancellor. But for the moment, our tactics will require us to fly high and fast. We think we can modify tactics to address new threats. But based upon our experience with developing new aircraft, it will take at least five years before the Russians, or anyone else, can match the 540.”
“That’s assuming they don’t have something coming out of the factory at the moment,” Schloss said.
“That is always possible,” Stumpf replied. “But the current Russian jet aircraft demonstrate that they have not mastered the aerodynamics of high-speed planes. We have learned about the strange things that can happen with the airflow over the wings and fuselage as speeds approach that of sound. Those things are hard to learn and harder to work around.
“And their engines are copies of our first-generation Jumo plants, although we have picked up indications that they have managed to steal several examples of newer engines from the Americans.”
“I have not heard that,” Schloss said. “Can you send me that report? I would like to read it.”
“Of course, Herr Reich Chancellor.” Stumpf seemed surprised.
“You would find it interesting to hear about the things the Reich Chancellor likes to read,” Guderian chuckled. “He has surprised us any number of times.”
“Just so,” Stumpf responded. “I think I prefer my surprises coming from the Reich Chancellor rather than from the Russians.”
“As do I,” Schloss said. “Surprises from the Russians tend to be unpleasant. Now, what can you tell me about these aircraft?”
“These six planes you see in front of you represent the ‘A’ model of the Boeing 540. The aircraft on the assembly line are all ‘B’ models. Those incorporate the improvements from our testing. The engines are improved, as are the fueling systems. There are changes to the aerodynamics and control surfaces to make the plane much more forgiving and controllable.”
“Does that mean we will have to scrap these six here?” Schloss asked.
“No. The first operational squadron will consist of the ‘B’ model. We will eventually arrange for the ‘A’ models to be upgraded to ‘B.’”
“These aircraft represent a large investment for the Reich,” Schloss said. “I am gratified to see you being careful with the funds.”
“Thank you, Herr Reich Chancellor. We try.”
One of the Luftwaffe colonels then led them on a walk around the aircraft so Schloss could inspect them more closely. The mechanics rolled a set of maintenance stairs up to one of the Boeings to allow Schloss to walk up and view the cockpit. One of the pilots stood next to him and explained the various controls and his experiences in flying the beast.
Schloss had always been interested in the aviation industry. In his previous life as a history professor in the 1980s West Berlin, he had spent hours in the library avidly reading aviation journals and studying the warcraft produced by the nations of that world. Here in an alternate world, he was fascinated by the subtle differences in the Boeing bomber developed in this world compared to the pictures he saw of the aircraft built for the United States Air Force. After five years in this world, his memories had faded somewhat, but it seemed to him that Boeing and Heinkel had built a substantially better plane here in Germany.
The Reich Chancellor ruminated on the events that brought him to this place. He had arrived at Tempelhof Airport in West Berlin on a spring day in 1982 to pick up his wife and mother-in-law, who were arriving on a flight from London. The day suddenly turned to the somber tones of brown worn by many of the visitors to the airport as he saw a Junkers JU52 crash in flames. The man next to him turned and cried out, “Herr Parteileiter, that was the Führer’s plane. What shall we do now?” And Heinrich Schloss’s life and world had changed irretrievably.
Schloss noticed the pilot giving him a strange look and shook himself back to the present.
“Sorry, mein Herr, you caught me wool-gathering.”
“Of course, Herr Reich Chancellor.”
Schloss was embarrassed to be caught out again like that. Fortunately, the flashbacks were less frequent now. The Reich Chancellor had a much more satisfactory life in this alternate world. He had a woman he loved and who loved him. He had three lovely children. He had friends who were closer than anything he experienced in that other place. And he had accomplished something worthwhile here. There were times he still wondered about the world he left behind. And he sometimes wondered about the Alter-Schloss he had replaced here.
He descended the stairs to meet Guderian and Stumpf.
“I would love to remain here all day to talk about airplanes with you,” he said, “but I must return to my work in Berlin.”
“You are welcome to remain here all day, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Stumpf replied.
“Be careful what you ask for,” Guderian laughed. “I suspect Herr Schloss would not need much encouragement to stay.”
“And the Field Marshall would not welcome my meddling,” Schloss commented to the laughter of the others.
Schloss still smiled as he climbed aboard the Junkers 290 for the trip back to Berlin.
§ § §
January 4, 1946, 10 PM
Rue Gaillard
Vichy, France
Paul Reynaud and Pierre Laval were not friends. They had served together in several French governments before and during the war. As common in French politics, they were allies on some issues and opponents on others. Tonight, they discussed France’s future and tried to divine what that would involve.
Laval lit yet another cigarette and blew the smoke towards the ceiling, where it swirled around the dim lightbulb in the kitchen of the small home.
“Pétain will not last forever,” Laval said. “He grows more feeble
“While I agree on the advisability of preparing for the future, post-Pétain,” Reynaud responded, “He has always acted like an old man. I do not see him departing anytime soon.”
“So how should we prepare for such an occurrence? Can we even prepare?”
“Come, Paul, you have always been the optimistic one. You certainly have proven it in your management of the economy. You brought us prosperity.”
“That seems to have a hint of irony,” Reynaud answered. “Coming from a Socialist, my economic liberalism must seem anathema.”
Laval shook his head. “No, not at all. I have long since had that knocked out of me. I have seen the failure of socialist experiments everywhere. I no longer want to subject France to that sort of punishment.”
Reynaud snorted. “I cannot gainsay your honesty. But I think we need to honestly consider the chances of success in this endeavor.”
“But we must try. We cannot allow the Boche to continue dictating our policies.”
“This coming from the man who thought Germany was the future of mankind.”
Laval tapped his index finger on the scarred pine tabletop. “Listen, my friend, I did and said what I thought would be the best strategy to preserve France. Who could have predicted what happened since? Hitler is dead, and Schloss is a very different sort. Where we had people collaborating with the Nazis to survive, they now collaborate to improve their living. If times are good, will our people forget their heritage?”
“What? A revival of the Carolingian court? Don’t be absurd. We are talking about a pragmatic operation to preserve our land. Let’s not get mystical.”
Laval grinned. “You never did have a sense of humor, Paul.”
Reynaud stood. “This is pointless. I did not come here to toss jokes back and forth. What is it that you really want? I might as well leave.”
Laval leaned back. “Relax. I have plenty of opportunities to insult and torment people, and that was not my objective tonight. Forgive me.”
Renaud nodded and resumed his chair. “What would you suggest?”
“In the event of Monsieur Pétain’s sad demise, we must prepare to assume control of the government.”
“And deal with the risks associated with that.”
“You are the prime minister,” Laval said. “You could declare that by fiat.”
“But it is one thing to say it and another to enforce it. I need your support.”
“And how many in the cabinet have you spoken with about this matter?”
“Several. My desire is for each to think I have spoken to them alone. There is something about the French psyche that loves a conspiracy.”
“And you want me to be your co-conspirator, then?”
Laval smiled. “But, of course. But you have been prime minister before, and you carry influence.”
“Would you support me for Pétain’s position and retain the premiership?”
“In a word, no. But if something like that happened, I would not fight it. You and I share similar aims, I believe. We need a free and independent France. But we need, also, to reach some accommodation with Schloss.”
“We have what amounts to home rule,” Reynaud commented.
“And do you find that satisfactory?”
“No, of course not. But things are far better than they could have been. Hitler was bleeding us badly to support his wars. Under Schloss, our people are better off than even the Germans. The people would not look kindly on us diminishing their living, regardless of how patriotic they may be.”
Laval grinned. “It seems as though we are faced with a multitude of contradictions. I suggest that we aim to retain the Head of State and Premiership between us and be satisfied with whichever role falls to us individually. To be honest, I am not sure we have other viable candidates.”
“And what of de Gaulle?”
Laval waved a hand. “Nobody takes de Gaulle seriously. The British tolerate him because it makes Schloss uncomfortable, but they don’t provide support. de Gaulle has a power base among the expatriate Frenchmen but almost nothing from here on the continent.”
“Very well, Pierre,” Reynaud said. “I will agree to support you. But you must also support me.”
“Agreed.”
CHAPTER THREE
January 7, 1946; 7 AM
Reich Chancellor’s Private Dining Room
Reich Chancellery
Berlin Germany
“So, where do we go from here, Herr Reich Chancellor?” Konrad Adenauer asked.
“The only direction we can go is forward,” Heinrich Schloss responded.
“That does not tell me a lot,” Adenauer replied sourly. “After the leadership of the Zentrum so thoroughly soiled themselves, Germany is left without a centrist organization, and I am left without a home. And what happened to your office?”
The two men had gathered for their usual early morning meeting, but most of Schloss’s office furniture was now in the private dining room.
Schloss grinned wryly. “Gisela decided the time was right to remodel my office into something more befitting to a head of state.”
“I must say the change is long overdue. Whatever one can say about our dear departed Führer’s faults, and they were legion, his architectural and artistic tastes confirmed his character.”
“How can we argue against those who say his death was a tragedy?” Schloss asked.
Adenauer chuckled. “I must say you are a master of mordant humor.”
“Sometimes the only possible reaction is humor, whatever the type.”
“Back to the topic at hand….”
“Right,” Schloss agreed. “I have given this some thought over the Yuletide week, as I am sure you have. There are two options before us, I believe. One would be to recreate a party of the center. The other would be to move the Nazi party to the center. Either presents challenges.”
“I agree. I think the safe course is to rebuild the center. But the Zentrum is not yet aware that it is dead. It will take several years before the body decays. I believe I can create a new party, but the result will be a split among the centrist voters. And your other option would likely split the Nazi party, and I don’t think the result would be attractive.”
“I know that a significant portion of the Nazi Party does not really like me,” Schloss commented. “And there is a radical fringe that views me as a betrayer of the party ethos, and they are correct.”
“You are certainly honest about it,” Adenauer said. “Although, I believe your strength as the Parteileiter comes from your unflinching honesty.”
“Not my ruthlessness?” Schloss grinned.
“Well, that too. But your ruthlessness is not in service of Nazi thuggery but for the Reich.”
“For the Fatherland,” Schloss corrected. “You have heard my goals.”
“Yes, I have observed your efforts to inculcate those goals into the party. How would you judge your success in that?”
“Only modest at this point,” Schloss replied. “I have much work ahead of me.”
“Do you see any risks of that element of the party trying to force their views on the nation?”
“As in a Putsch? No, I don’t think so. The people are solidly with the government, and the fringe knows that. We may have to keep those people in the wilderness for a generation, but there you are.”
“I feel rather lost, myself,” Adenauer said. “I tried for years to teach the same things you espouse to the Zentrum and thought I was successful.”
“Oh, I think you were. The leadership was looking out for its own interests, but the rank and file listened. If you go ahead and declare a new party, call it the Democratic Center or something, the people will flock to you. The leadership will sit in the corner with their toys, and no one will come to play with them. It will get lonely.”
Adenauer laughed. “As always, Herr Schloss, your turn of phrase is delightful. And not to risk giving you the big head, but I think you are better at giving a speech than even the Führer. He held the people in thrall with an almost Luciferian power. You hold them with your calm, sensible conversation that has them eating out of your hand.”
“Yes, well,” Schloss replied, looking embarrassed. “Moving on to the next item. Giving due recognition of your discomfort, you are already effective as a member of the government. The Department of Central Administration is already functioning well. One thing I have not done, though, is to assign you a title.”
“I thought I was the Director of Central Administration.”
“That sounds a little antiseptic, don’t you think?”
Adenauer raised his eyebrows slightly. “That is as it should be.”
“I think I would like to appoint you as the Minister without Portfolio.”
“No. Let’s call it Minister of Administration. It is more accurate, and it defines my new power base.”
Schloss rolled his tongue in his cheek. “You are always thinking, Konrad. Minister of Administration it shall be.”
Adenauer nodded and then looked sober. “And what shall we do about the Zentrum leadership?”
“That is in the hands of the judge, I think,” Schloss replied.
“Those men have forfeited their leadership.”
“What do you mean, then?”
“How will the Zentrum select new leadership?”
“We keep coming back to that, Konrad, don’t we?” Schloss asked. “I know the Zentrum is like your child. You helped birth it. But may I suggest, with all possible respect, that it is no longer your problem. You resigned from your position. You are no longer a part of it. The Zentrum will do whatever it does. You will make your decisions for the Fatherland.”
“Thank you for that reminder, Herr Schloss. I look at myself as being pragmatic, but as you said, the Zentrum is my child. One hates to lose a child.”
§ § §
January 7, 1946; 10 AM
Reich Chancellor’s Private Dining Room
Reich Chancellery
Berlin Germany
“Can you get any work done here?” Gerhard Wicklein asked as he entered the room for his meeting with Schloss.
“I am productive,” Schloss replied. “Since this room faces the courtyard of the Chancellery, I am no longer prompted to run to the window every time I hear a loud noise in the street below.”
“Don’t you miss seeing the firetrucks?”
“Don’t start, Gerhard,” Schloss growled.
“I’m just making sure I understand you, Herr Reich Chancellor.”
“I’m sure. Our meeting today is about our insurrectionists, correct.”
“That is correct,” Wicklein replied. “As you know, each has been formally charged with treason. The judge instructed them to find representation. He scheduled a formal arraignment and then released them on general recognizance. He will set the trial date at the arraignment.”
“And what are they doing right now?”
“I believe they are shaking the trees for money and support without notable success.”
“I have noticed no supporters in the streets agitating for the conspirators,” Schloss commented.
“I would not gainsay your situational awareness,” Wicklein added. “It appears the rank and file of the Zentrum was horrified at what their leaders did.”
“Just like everyone else, I believe. I have not decided personally whether their actions were the result of hubris or desperation.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Wicklein stated.
“Adenauer thinks they were terrified of losing the election next fall and tried to preempt things. I’m not sure I would credit them with that much intelligence.”
“In other words, you think they were convinced of their own rectitude.”
“Correct,” Schloss said. “They thought they could march in here and take over the government without me or anyone else lifting a finger to stop them.”
