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Authors: Christopher Nuttall

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It’s all there
, he reassured himself, and carefully hid the cache again. If Hitler came to Britain, Davall would be able to hit a few of the Nazis before the Grey Wolves were hunted down like dogs. He strode away from the cache, found a path leading back down towards the village, and became an ordinary walker again. There was nothing to show that he had just been looking at enough weapons to fight a small war.

 

He checked his watch as he moved. He would have time to eat dinner with Kate and James before meeting the other Grey Wolves and discussing plans for the future. Somehow, deep inside, he was sure that this was the time – or else all of their preparations would be for naught.

 

***

 

“I never liked the sea,” Captain Harry Jackson confessed, as he stood next to Sergeant Henry Wilt, staring out to sea. He’d been born inland and had only seen the sea as a child on a visit to relatives in Poole, where he’d visited a beach and almost drowned. “What’s the point of us being here?”

 

Wilt gave him a mischievous look. “Because the Home Guard is supposed to be a countrywide organisation and Felixstowe cannot be left out of any preparations for defence,” he said, carefully. “If something should happen here, the army will expect us to serve as the first respondents to the crisis and deal with it.”

 

Jackson looked at him sharply. “And just what might happen here?”

 

“There was a major riot two years ago,” Wilt said, as they walked back towards the barracks. “There was a strike protesting something, and a boss sent in a group of hired thugs and…well, dockyard workers are tough, so they beat hell out of the thugs and then rioted. I think it required an army battalion to put an end to the rioting and a lot of people got hurt.”

 

Jackson looked around the dockyard complex. It was massive, with several large slips for massive freighters and a small MTB and destroyer base down the coast, providing a small base for the Royal Navy. Inland of the slips there were hundreds of warehouses and an entire rail line dedicated to moving cargo out of the dockyards and into Britain; behind that, he could see the town of Felixstowe, shimmering slightly in the early morning mist.  But the workers themselves looked thin and scrawny, the result of rations that were somehow never enough to keep themselves going.  And, as they were in a protected occupation, they couldn't even find work elsewhere.

 

“I can see why they rioted,” he said, as they passed by a massive freighter which was unloading a massive pile of crates, dockyard workers coming up to transport them away from the ship and towards the railway station. A set of trucks drove past and they moved out of the way, heading towards the gate; the entire dockyard was surrounded by a fence and a guarded gatepost. “Are there any security problems here?”

 

Wilt nodded towards a line of pubs,
inside
the fence. “We get German crewmen coming here and sometimes they get into fights,” he said. “There’s quite a lot of Polish workers here, people whose families fled Poland before the Germans invaded, and they don’t get on too well with the Germans. More seriously, we have had some spying incidents out here, although the Home Guard hasn’t actually done much apart from providing manpower if it’s needed.”

 

They passed through the gates and began walking towards the Home Guard barracks. They were smaller than a regular army barracks; according to Home Guard regulations, one Company was supposed to be ready for anything, and a second Company was supposed to be in reserve, but the other part-time soldiers were permitted to get on with their lives in-between serving their time on guard duty. There was a great deal to guard at the barracks: apart from providing sleeping space and offices for the senior officers of the unit, it also stored the unit’s weapons and equipment.

 

He grimaced. Junior officers in the Home Guard had been pressing for the soldiers to be allowed to take their weapons home with them so that they could be ready at any moment, if there was a problem. It hadn’t been considered politically possible, not with so much economic turmoil sweeping over the country, and it meant that the Home Guard had to report to their barracks before getting their weapons. If something did happen, they should have plenty of time to respond, but it worried him.

 

“Ah, Captain Jackson,” Colonel Felton-Smith said, as Jackson entered his office. “What did you make of the docks?”

 

“I think we really need more patrols round there,” Jackson said, honestly. “If there are security issues we need to tighten security and ensure that no one comes in or out of the docks unless we know who they are.”

 

“You think that the Germans will slip some spies into Britain,” Colonel Felton-Smith said, thoughtfully. “I have just received this information from the War Office; a message from General Slim himself.”

 

Jackson nodded as he read through the note. General Slim, an expert in fighting in the Far East and the Middle East, had recently been appointed the commanding officer of the Home Guard, second only to the Minister of Defence and the Prime Minister. It was a role he was suited for. He was tasked with organising the Home Guard around the issues that plagued part-time soldiers who also needed to work or take in the harvest when they were wanted to serve in the Home Guard. It was one of the reasons why only two companies of the Home Guard were serving at the barracks; the other soldiers had regular jobs and employment.

 

“He thinks that we should come to full readiness.” he said, puzzled. “Does that mean we should declare a full mobilisation and bring the Guard up to alert?”

 

“No,” Colonel Felton-Smith said. There was a bitter tone in his voice, one that surprised Jackson. “For reasons they haven’t bothered to explain to me, they want us to merely come to alert, but not to mobilise the full force.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Jackson said. He could understand reluctance to mobilise – it would cost a lot of money and cause considerable inconvenience to everyone involved – but if there was some reason to be worried, why not start the mobilisation anyway? “What do they mean by that?”

 

“Off the record, I got some whispers down the chain that suggested that there are some reasons to be worried about the Germans,” Colonel Felton-Smith said. He sounded irritated and Jackson didn’t blame him; the warning was so vague as to be almost useless. “They want us to take what precautions we can to make sure that if someone does declare a full mobilisation, the Home Guard can be raised to its full complement as soon as possible.”

 

Jackson ran through it in his head. There were, in theory, two thousand Home Guardsmen in the area. He privately suspected that it would take at least a week to get all of them concentrated, particularly if they weren't allowed to inform them ahead of time that they might be called up to serve. That sort of delay could be disastrous. They might manage to get a quarter of their established force up quickly, but even that would be tricky…

 

“It’s not going to be easy,” he said, thinking about the other units. Half of them were still out on exercise; they’d all have to be recalled, quickly. The others had returned to their civilian lives and it wouldn’t be easy to recall them all. “There’s no way that we can call them all up quietly?”

 

“No, it’s not going to be easy,” Colonel Felton-Smith said. Jackson remembered, suddenly, that the Colonel had fought in France during the Battle of France and left the country at Dunkirk. “Still, we’d better get on with it, hadn’t we? There’s no way of knowing how long we have before the balloon goes up.”

Chapter Se
ven

 

Berlin, Germany

 

Hitler was in a good mood, Himmler noted, as he entered the
Führer’s
war room. His leader’s face was split into a smile. The
Fuehrer
hadn’t been in such a good mood since the first reports had come back from the Russian Front, when his nerves about launching Operation Barbarossa had been swept away by the awesome successes of his army. Now, instead of a massive and inaccurate map of Russia, a scale map of Britain was hung prominently on the wall. A second set of maps was placed on the table. Himmler was no skilled map reader, but even he could tell how the massive fighting force that Hitler’s generals had assembled was straining at the leash, preparing to jump forward and attack the British.

 

“This is a day that will live for a thousand years,” Hitler said, as soon as the doors were closed. “On this day, the glorious forces of our Thousand Year
Reich
will finally put an end to the nation of shopkeepers and Jews that remains the one thorn in our side. Today…”

 

Himmler tuned him out. Hitler was capable of speaking for hours on a subject that interested him or one that he knew a great deal about, but he often ended up repeating himself. He might not be shouting at anyone, but if there was a defeat, even a tiny one, he would explode into a fury that would only be ended by his body failing.

 

It didn’t seem fair, somehow; Hitler was the most important person in the
Reich
, and still he was fading under their eyes. There had been hundreds of experiments conducted on concentration camp victims to try to find a way of prolonging the Führer’s
life, and even with some of the new techniques, Hitler’s lifespan was likely to be no longer than a handful of years, degenerating all the way. That particular secret had been kept from the German people, but what would happen when Hitler died? Who would become
Fuhrer
then?

 

His gaze met the gaze of Speer, and then Kesselring. Only one person could wield absolute power within Germany, and only Himmler himself could ensure that the
Reich
gave birth to the Aryan society that would dominate the world for the rest of time. He knew that he must win the power struggle that was sure to follow Hitler’s death or collapse. Britain would be a battleground in more ways than one; Himmler’s agents would have to ensure that the SS came out of the affair looking as if they’d borne sole responsibility for keeping the peace. There was a Waffen-SS
unit earmarked for duty in the invasion, but only one of them; there could only be one reason for that. Kesselring didn’t want the SS to be able to claim credit for the early victories.

 

“That leaves us with one question,” the
Fuhrer
concluded, after nearly half an hour. “Do we still have the advantage of surprise?”

 

All eyes turned to Canaris. “The British have been engaged in a low-level alert for the past week,” he said, after a moment. “I do not believe that they are aware of the full scope of our plans, but they are certainly suspicious that we are up to something, even to the point of trying to send recon planes over France. We shot two of them down and refrained from making a formal protest; we don’t want them to think that we have something to hide.”

 

Hitler laughed and, after a moment, the others joined in. “Overall, however, the British seem not to have declared a full mobilisation,” Canaris continued. “We don’t know what they’re thinking, but without a complete alert, they are likely to be caught by surprise, at least on a tactical level.”

 

Himmler interjected a comment. “Through certain sources, I have established that there are elements within the British Government that suspect that we are planning something,” he said, revelling in his position of power. The military intelligence machine had been demanding to know about his sources for years, but Himmler had no intention of admitting that the SS was using socialists as a source of intelligence; that would have been seen as a sign of ideological weakness. “Churchill, Admiral Cunningham and others have been pressing for an increased alert status…”

 

“That dog,” Hitler burst out, furiously. Himmler nodded in agreement; Churchill was the one national leader who had defied the
Fuhrer
and gotten away with it. Stalin had crawled on his belly before the
Fuhrer
, after which he had been taken away and executed; Tito had killed himself the night before he had been scheduled to meet with the SS death squad. “The British should have exiled him from the country!”

 

“It is quite likely that the operation directed against London itself will succeed in killing him as well,” Himmler said. The SS’s Black Book on British citizens who were to be rounded up included much of the former British government and almost all of the British aristocracy. As natural leaders – or so Hitler saw them – they would end their days working in one of the slave camps or simply receiving a bullet in the back of the head.

 

Himmler pushed his advantage. “Regardless, if Churchill is unable to convince the British that they need to come to alert, then there is no need to worry,” he said. “Even if the British come to their senses now, they will have almost no time to bring their forces up to readiness and strike at us first.”

 

Hitler calmed himself with obvious effort. “Yes, you’re right,” he said, absently boosting Himmler’s position in the coming power struggle. “What is their state of readiness?”

 

Canaris touched the map. “Their main units have been running through drills, but we believe that around a third of their soldiers are not on station, even in the Dover region,” he said. “If they had a day’s warning, they could recall their soldiers and airmen and prepare to engage the leading assault forces, but in the event they will only have hours and the confusion cannot help but benefit us. Their Home Fleet, in particular, just finished a set of drills and the crewmen will be exhausted; an ideal time to hit them.”

 

“Good,” Hitler said, reassured. “And now…our status?”

 

Kesselring, by common agreement, spoke first. “The airborne units are prepared for their missions,” he said. “The leading assault units for Scapa Flow are already running through their final checks and will be taking off within hours. Units with targets of importance will be take off in a coordinated effort so that they all enter British radar coverage at the same time. Those units have been given specific targets, although only a few of them are of vital importance.”

 

His fingers touched the map. “
Luftwaffe 3
will be handling the most important section of the mission,” he continued. “They will launch a series of precision strikes against road and rail communications between the Dover region and the landing site, in Felixstowe. In addition, they will also drop two thousand parachutists into the area, with orders to carry out attacks against British troop formations, roads, rail lines, and other means of communication. Once the night comes to an end, the troops will withdraw back towards Felixstowe, where they will be reassigned and given other tasks as part of a general personnel pool.

 


Luftwaffe 1
will launch heavy strikes against the ports, army units, airbases, and heavy fortifications of the Dover region.” he said. “They will also be dropping fake parachutists into the area, hopefully confusing the British defenders and convincing them that the main assault will be landing in Dover. Army units on the far side of the Channel will be simulating preparations for a landing for the first week of the campaign, whereupon they will be moved to join the invasion or held back, as the situation warrants.”

 

He nodded at the
Fuhrer
. “Overall, the
Luftwaffe
is prepared for its mission.” he concluded. “We should have no difficulty in making a mark on the British and winning air supremacy.”

 

The
Fuhrer
, remembering Goring’s failure in 1940 – and his later failure with the flying wing project – looked doubtful, but clearly decided not to push the issue. He looked over at Manstein, who straightened to attention and faced the
Fuhrer
with a firm gaze. Manstein knew just how much he could get away with, Himmler reflected. He was someone who it was best to keep a careful eye on just in case he developed ambitions of his own. The General Staff were supposed to be free of ambition, or at least political ambition, but Himmler didn’t believe it.  Everyone, in his experience, wanted power.

 

“The army stands ready to do its part,” he said, after a moment. “We have the
Hans Bader
already on its way towards Felixstowe; it will land just at twilight, whereupon it should hopefully avoid inspection long enough for the troops to deploy. If not, the commandos will assault anyway and take the port as quickly as possible, capturing the docking slips and the port’s supplies – as well as putting the Royal Navy units there out of action – and then they will hold it until the first heavy transport arrives.”

 

His bearing tightened slightly. “We were able to load enough supplies for the commandos to hold the port for hours, if there is a major delay, but we anticipate getting the first heavy transport into the dock within an hour, maybe less, as they will have sailed only an hour ago. Admiral?”

 

Generaladmiral
Erich Raeder looked over at the
Fuhrer
. “The main invasion convoys are already being loaded and will be escorted by the vast majority of our warships,” he said. “The flotilla will make a high-speed run to Felixstowe, whereupon they will unload and return at once for additional units. French and Dutch ports have already been prepared for rapidly reloading the ships. Other ships, including smaller freighters and barges, have already been marked for seizure and deployment into a transport force. As long as we can keep the sea lanes open, we can keep reinforcing the beachhead.

 

He hesitated. “The danger remains that the British Home Fleet may be able to come out to engage our force,” he concluded. “If Home Fleet remains at its current strength, we will probably lose, despite the more modern nature of our battleships and the carrier tactics we practised with our yellow friends. If Home Fleet is crippled, we should be able to dominate the Channel until the battle on the land is concluded.”

 

Himmler kept his face blank with extreme care. The Japanese had taught the
Reich
much about carriers and carrier operations – three of the
Reich’s
carriers were based on Japanese designs – but it wasn't something that could be acknowledged in public. Officially, the designs had all been invented by the
Kriegsmarine
, which had developed them on its own. The truth was not something that could be shared with the world – it threw the ‘master race’ theory into doubt.

 

Manstein nodded his thanks. “To a certain degree, Field Marshal Rommel will have to improvise during the first few weeks of the war,” he admitted. “The reinforcement situation is the most critical part of the invasion; as long as the supply lines remain open, the British will lose in the end. We have better training, better equipment, and better soldiers. As long as we can keep the supplies flowing, we will win.”

 

“There does remain the question of the American angle,” Canaris said. Himmler felt the ripples of opinion running around the room and glowered inwardly. Canaris, he felt, overestimated the Americans, even if they were the only power left that could give the
Reich
a run for its money. “Churchill is surprisingly popular on the other side of the Atlantic and might well be trying to convince the Americans that we represent a danger to them as well. Do we have any way of defeating them if they decide to get involved?”

 

Himmler smiled. “The current mode in America is isolationist,” he said, recalling what one of his other unknowing spies had reported. “Certainly, they do have pressure groups, mainly Jews and a few others, pushing for a more vigorous response to the
Reich
.”

 

He shrugged. Hitler’s plans had grown larger and larger as his victories grew larger; he’d spoken before of one day carrying the war to the American continent. His delusions about the rest of the world were strange – he literally believed that New Zealanders lived in trees and had tails – but when matched with his mind, skilled at finding an opponent’s weaknesses, he was a formidable opponent. One day, Himmler was certain, the Americans would discover just what sort of nation Nazi Germany was, the day when the
Reich
would crush the American republic like a bug.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel said. He was known as ‘lackey’ within the General Staff; Hitler used him as a mouthpiece, rather than as a serious officer. “If the Americans send everything they have now to Britain it will not alter the balance of power significantly, even assuming that their navy makes it across the Atlantic without being sunk by the horde of U-boats we have been launching into the waters. Upon a signal, they will all attack the American fleet and the Americans will be completely unprepared for their existence.”

BOOK: The Invasion of 1950
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