Patton and the Desert Fox stood on the hotel balcony overlooking the valley of the Elbe River, which twisted into the distance to the right and left below them. The steeple of an ancient church jutted incongruously upward from a mass of rubble, dozens of square blocks that had been bombed to oblivion. Beyond, a stretch of green pine trees marked a park that had been miraculously spared during the aerial bombing campaign. There, the snow had melted off the ground, and the evergreens stood out in stark relief against the gray and brown of the surrounding ruin.
Rommel had returned to an officer’s uniform, but one devoid of insignia of any sort, a plain suit and cap in Wehrmacht feldgrau. His blind eye was covered with a black patch. “Still no insignia, Rommel?” Patton asked. Sanger, standing to the side, translated.
The Desert Fox shook his head. “No. Not at the present, at least.”
“Then how the hell do you expect people to know you’re a field marshal?”
Rommel smiled slightly and looked Patton straight in the eyes. “They’ll know when they see people obeying my orders. How do they know you’re a general? Because of
that?
” He gestured at Patton’s splendor: silver helmet with three stars, jodhpurs, ivory-handled pistols.
Patton laughed in return. “Point taken. I guess not. They know when they see people following my orders.” Rommel nodded in satisfaction.
An orderly came out onto the balcony. “General Patton, sir? I have General Eisenhower on the phone. If you’ll follow me, sir—”
Patton was already moving, and the orderly hastened to lead him through the lobby and into the manager’s office, with Rommel and Sanger following close on his heels. The field marshal and the liaison officer halted outside the office, until the American general waved them in while he took the receiver of the phone. The orderly quickly departed and pulled the door shut behind him.
“George, Ike here.”
Patton grimaced unconsciously, hoping that the gamble he and Rommel were taking would pay off. “Yes, General,” he said, surprising even himself when he referred to SHAEF by rank instead of his ubiquitous nickname.
“Well, you’re going to be a very happy man,” said the Supreme Commander in his matter-of-fact Midwestern tone. “I’ve just spoken to none other than
the president himself. He sends his congratulations, by the way, and his best wishes.” There was an agonizing pause. “And, Georgie … ?”
“Hot damn—it’s Berlin, right?” Patton’s voice rose in excitement, and he saw Rommel nod in satisfaction—the field marshal didn’t need a translator to understand the topic of the conversation.
“Yes, George—he thinks that all bets are off, as far as the Russians go. They’re back in this thing whole hog, and this time we’re not treating them as allies. You need to get there ahead of them, and in enough strength not to be pushed out. How soon can you get your vanguard across the Elbe?”
Patton looked out the office window. There were many bridges in this medieval city, and several of them were visible from here. All of them were choked with eastbound traffic, mostly columns of Shermans and American trucks, though one span had been dedicated to the German Republican Army, and was dotted with panzer Mark IVs and a few Panther tanks. On the far bank, the columns were winding through the outskirts of the city, the leading elements already vanishing into the countryside beyond.
Some details, Patton thought with a wicked grin, didn’t need to be shared with the high command.
“Well, Ike, it’ll take some time to get an entire army moving, but I think we can get started pretty quickly,” he promised, crossing his fingers behind his back.
“Good,” said the Supreme Commander. “Then, Godspeed to you, Georgie—the eyes of the world are going to be watching for the winner of this race.”
“Ike, this is the sprint I’ve been waiting for all my life—you can bet your ass we’re going to finish first!” He put his hand over the mouthpiece, whispered to Rommel: “The word is ‘Go.’”
Eisenhower continued speaking. “But listen: We don’t want a shooting war with the Russians—I can’t stress that point strongly enough. I’ve seen the figures—they have ten times as many men as we do, and an even greater advantage in tanks. So this is a race, but it’s not a war—understand? Get to Berlin first, you stay there, and keep them out. But if anything goes wrong, Berlin is theirs, at least for a while, got it? No matter what, you stop when you get to the Russian lines. We’ll let the situation develop from there.”
“Yes, Ike—I understand.” Patton was certain Ike’s figures about Soviet strength were exaggerated—hell, the Supreme Commander probably bought into that same commie propaganda that fooled everyone else—but he was also certain it wasn’t going to be an issue. This
was
in fact a race, and there was no faster army on earth than his own Third.
“What’s the latest word on where the damned Russkis are right now?”
“They’re pulling up to the Oder along a front that’s a hundred miles or more wide. They’re closer to Berlin than you are—within fifty miles at Küstrin,
whereas it looks like you have a good hundred or more to go. But they have that river in front of them, and it looks like the Waffen-SS is going to do us a favor for once, and try to hold them there.”
“All right, Ike—we’re off! And give my compliments back to the president when you see him, will you?”
“Certainly, Georgie. Give ’em hell!”
“You know I will, General.” Patton hung up the receiver. “We got permission to go!” He crowed.
Rommel laughed. “I see that you have the same healthy respect for orders and the chain of command that I do.”
“It’s easier to get forgiveness than permission,” Patton replied, grinning.
The three men made their way through the lobby and back upstairs. When they emerged onto the balcony again, it seemed that the day was brighter and warmer than any since they had crossed into Germany. The sun was shining and there was actually a promise of spring in the air.
Patton gestured to the three huge columns that were still rumbling across the bridges, through the far side of Dessau, and onward toward Berlin. “We have Fourth Armored on the right, Panzer Lehr in the middle, and Nineteenth Armored on the left. Pretty damn good spearhead, if I say so myself.”
“Yes,” Rommel agreed, through Sanger. “They’ll be able to handle anything Himmler’s SS remnants try to do. As to the Russians, how many more divisions ready to cross as soon as the bridges are opened up for more traffic?”
“I have three more—two infantry and another armor—waiting outside the city for the columns to clear out. They can be across by tomorrow, I think, and I want my whole army on the other side of the Elbe by the end of the week. We can set up a bulletproof ring around Berlin—no commie bastard will get within twenty miles of the place! And you have, what, another panzer division and an infantry division ready?”
The Desert Fox nodded. “At least that. As Armeegruppe H makes the transition to the DDR side, that should give us at least another two mobile divisions within the week. Perhaps I should send some of them around to the north, make our front a little more broad?”
“Good idea,” Patton agreed. He looked across the river, toward the three tank-heavy formations at the heart of the drive. “But the key to this thing will be those boys, right there. As Ike said, this is a race—and one we can’t afford to lose.”
“Good evening. This is your führer, speaking to you tonight from Broadcast House in Berlin. I am addressing you this evening about a matter of great importance, to set the record straight about the conduct of your government, your party, and your fatherland.
“You may have heard some shocking allegations regarding concentration camps where the enemies of our nation have been imprisoned. Those allegations are false, misleading, and libelous propaganda aimed at weakening the bonds between People and State. Tonight, I will tell you the truth.” Himmler took a deep breath, drinking primly from a glass of water. He pursed his lips, annoyed to see that his hand was shaking. With great concentration he inhaled through his nostrils, slowly exhaled, and leaned in toward the microphone again.
“Germany has been attacked viciously, both inside and out, by those who wish to see the Aryan race subjugated to the mongrel peoples of the world. In particular, the Elders of Zion, the international cartel of bankers they control, and their agents the Communists, see in our proud people the primary challenge to their goal of world domination.
“We have been forced to defend ourselves and to gain for the people of Germany what history and justice demand—room for our people and freedom from that domination. We have waged war only in self-defense, only to provide us with the freedom that is our birthright, only to give us a chance at survival.” He was feeling more confidence now, and allowed himself the glimmer of a smile. His speechwriter had done a good job—in truth, who needed Goebbels, anyway? The man had always been overrated.
“To that end, we have arrested the enemies of the Third Reich, and imprisoned them—as all nations of the world imprison criminals and traitors. Have we treated them unfairly or harshly? No, no, a thousand times no! They have been placed in prisons where they have been receiving good food each day, a place to sleep, and appropriate care. Even when our own people have been called upon to make sacrifices, we have paid working prisoners in a currency called lagergeld, with which they can purchase the luxuries of life. We have done so because we are a humane people.
“But what of these accusations of barbaric living conditions? Those, dear countrymen, were created by the prisoners themselves! We furnished them clean barracks and they chose to live in squalor. They have fought among themselves, lived like filthy pigs, prostituted themselves to each other, and in spite of all our care and attention, have chosen to reveal themselves as they truly are. Our hands are clean and our conscience is pure.
“With other prisoners, alien to our race and foreign to our people, such as Jews and Gypsies, we have, at great cost, found them room to resettle and build their own lives, free from outside interference. But the Soviet Bolsheviks have attacked them, killed their women and children, and brutalized the survivors. The Mongol horde returns across the steppes, and with it comes brutality such as the civilized world has never seen.
“The proof of this you will have shortly, for I predict you will hear the Soviets claim in their propaganda that there are death camps in the territories
they have captured. Indeed, there are death camps, but they are not German death camps. They are the creation of the Soviets themselves, in their own mission to rid the world of those whom they find inimical to their Slavic temperament.
“Those who set themselves up as our enemies have been motivated by envy—envy of our character, of our purity, of our strength. In spite of all our enemies may do, the Third Reich will never crumble, never falter, never die. As Führer of the Third Reich, I call upon all of you to continue your unwavering support of your fatherland, and resist with all your might, and we will yet prevail!
“Thank you and good night.”
Heinrich Himmler knew full well that he was not the orator that Adolf Hitler had been. Speaking, even on the radio, was exhausting to him, calling on all his reserves of emotional energy. His face beaded with sweat, he moved into the dark control room, where an aide waited with a towel and another glass of water. He wiped his face and quickly drank the water.
“A masterful performance,” the radio engineer said. “It will inspire the people.” Himmler nodded his thanks, too tired even to reply.
He walked down the single flight of steps to his waiting limousine. The SS driver opened the door, saluting smartly at his approach. Himmler slid into the backseat, where his ADC awaited. “You have a visitor at the chancellery, mein Führer,” he said.
“Who is it?”
“Rommel’s envoy, von Reinhardt.”
Von Reinhardt was waiting at the new chancellery when Himmler arrived. The aristocratic officer was seated in a chair in the outer office, and rose to his feet with visible effort, bracing himself on both arms, as the führer walked past.
“I’m rather surprised to see you,” Himmler said coldly. “I would have thought your master would be far too shocked by political reality to continue our dialogue.” He walked to the bar in his office to fix himself a drink. He did not offer one to his visitor, who merely turned to follow the führer with his eyes.
“You’re right,” replied von Reinhardt. “The deal with the Desert Fox is, as you no doubt realize, completely cancelled by the reality of Buchenwald. I daresay if he were here now, he would strangle you with his bare hands.”
“Let us stick to practical matters.” Himmler waved away the idle threat. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“A deal that can lead to escape for you is still possible—if you are prepared to negotiate with me.”
Himmler stopped, his drink nearly to his mouth. “You? Have you gone
freelance, then?” His eyes blinked behind the small, wire-rimmed glasses.
“Yes. I still think the outlines of the deal we reached together are in the best interests of the Fatherland. Rommel, an idealist, feels that bringing you to justice is the most important thing of all.”
“And you don’t? Funny. I would have thought you, too, would have that mystical reverence for justice.” The führer gulped from his glass. He was not a frequent drinker, but now the burn of the fine cognac was soothing to his stomach, and helped to clear his mind.
“Justice is a matter for the gods to sort out. Whether or not you receive justice will have no benefit to a single victim of the camps. This is a fact of ‘political reality,’ as you yourself might be inclined to observe.”
Himmler smiled. “I’m glad you understand that. Our party has written large upon the face of history, and nothing can undo what we have written.”
“That’s correct. The world will never be the same because of the Third Reich’s rise … and fall. So it is silly to worry about the past. Only the future can be affected by our actions in the present.”
“And you an historian.” Himmler took a sip, sat down in his chair. “I am beginning to see where you would take the long view. Please, continue.”
“Being interested in history does not automatically make one a hopeless idealist, you know.” The colonel walked slowly over to the bar. “May I?” he asked, leaning against the rail. Himmler gestured with his hand, and von Reinhardt dropped a few ice cubes in a glass, poured himself a drink from the same decanter the führer had used.
“How very interesting you are, von Reinhardt. It’s a shame you aren’t still on my side.”
“I’m on Germany’s side, if that means anything to you.”
“It depends, I suppose, on what you mean by ‘Germany.’ I am still the lawful leader of this nation, you will remember. My power is not to be scorned, nor treated lightly.”
“I intend no scorn. I simply mean that having you depart peacefully and quickly is in everyone’s best interest. Even Rommel, though I don’t think he’ll be able to understand that harsh truth. For a pragmatic man, our Desert Fox does have that surprisingly deep streak of idealism.”
“So, you’re willing to help the poor, beleaguered Nazi high command escape, are you?”
“Yes.” Von Reinhardt slowly raised his glass to his lips, sighed deeply, then added: “For a price.”
Himmler took another sip of his drink. “Am I now to believe that you are for sale to the highest bidder? Is this how you show your interest in the Fatherland? Or do you have such a low opinion of my insight and intelligence that you expect to fool me by pretending to be dishonest? Come now, von Reinhardt.”
“I’m not for sale. But there is a price to pay.”
“Money? Women? Art? What do you want?”
“Money.”
Himmler shook his head and smiled. “No, no, von Reinhardt. You cannot convince me that what you want is money.”
“Not money for me.” Von Reinhardt moved slowly back to his chair, used his free hand to brace his arm, and slowly lowered himself back to the seat.
“For whom, then?” Himmler was intrigued. He went to his huge black desk and sat down, facing his visitor expectantly.
“For the victims of the camps.”
“Ahh.” Himmler put his fingers together as a steeple. “For the victims of the camps. How much money?”
“Twenty million marks. Gold, I should think. Yes, gold is the only way it would work. I am certain that you have a lot of it stashed around, here and there—you know, just in case … .”
“Gold. Of course you would want it in gold. Very practical.” Himmler laughed. It was a brittle sound. “Keep talking. I find this conversation quite entertaining.” He took another long drink, vaguely annoyed when the glass was empty. Yet he felt relaxed, and masterful.
“You have the Soviets approaching Berlin on one side and the Western Allies approaching on the other. Within a week they will be bickering over the bones of your capital—surely you realize that. The skies above you are dominated by your enemies, and the troops on the ground are so numerous that you will never reach either the Eagle’s Nest or Switzerland or any other place of refuge without help. You might escape as a single man in disguise, but that will hardly meet your needs. First, your face is too well known, and the risk of accidental discovery high. Second, it would not suffice you to escape if you cannot bring with you wealth sufficient to reestablish yourself and the key members of government and Party and hope to rebuild. Shall I continue?”
“Go on.” Himmler waved his hand languorously.
“You will have to escape by car or truck. To do it the right way you would need a convoy. Yourself, a small bodyguard, communications equipment, and all the gold you have here in Berlin. I imagine there’s still a fairly tidy sum available to you. You would head south for a while and then go either toward Berchtesgarten or Switzerland, unless there’s another place available for you to hide. Simultaneously, you would send out of Berlin all the other key officials in small groups and in civilian clothing, so they could make their own way to your rendezvous point. From there, you would bribe and maneuver your way to a safe haven. South America seems like a good bet, I would think. Perhaps the only place on earth where you might have a chance to live as a free—not to mention, very wealthy—man.”
“Amusing. And how would this convoy avoid contact with my enemies? As you mentioned, the Allied armies are thick across the ground.”
“I’m still an intelligence officer with appropriate security clearance. I would provide you with detailed maps and troop movements, and could see that operational orders are issued to keep the enemy out of your way while giving the illusion that the front was still well protected. Of course, you will need to move quickly, but there are still opportunities for you. Neither your eastern nor your western enemies have yet approached Czechoslovakia. From there, you will have a clear road to the Alps. I’d suggest you prerecord some more radio addresses and have them broadcast to conceal the moment of your departure.”
Himmler began drumming his fingers on the tabletop. Should he consider this offer seriously, or not? He looked at von Reinhardt. As usual, the man was the picture of equanimity. He couldn’t read him, and that fact was not to Himmler’s liking. “Let us discuss—quite hypothetically, of course—the possibility that you are planning some sort of double-cross. Naturally, I cannot simply leave my payment with you, and trust you to carry out your part of the bargain.”
“It’s always wise to consider the option of a double-cross, Reichsführer. With all respect, I consider that possibility in reverse, as well. I think it should be possible to create a set of consequences that would make it in neither one of our interests to double-cross the other. We will need to place the twenty million marks in one location and keep a hostage in another, so that your complete and successful escape releases both the money and the hostage.”
Himmler looked at von Reinhardt with more seriousness. “Would you be the hostage?”
Von Reinhardt paused, took a sip of his cognac, and smiled at Himmler. “Yes. It would not be my first choice of roles, but if it’s a necessity, yes, I would agree to be your hostage.”
“Twenty million marks for my freedom and a chance to start over. I must think on it. For now, I want you to stay the night. My guards will see that you have a comfortable room—one with a stout lock on the outside of the door, of course. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Very well, Reichsführer. But you must know that time is of the essence.”