Winds of War (79 page)

“Things Hitler has done!” Jagow sighed, his eyes heavy and sad. “Let me tell you something that may amaze you, Captain. When we took Poland,
it was we Germans who stopped the Poles from murdering the Jews
. They took our arrival as a signal to let loose. It was like open season on Jews! The atrocities were unbelievable. Yes, our Wehrmacht had to step in and shield the Jews from the Poles.” The general coughed hard. “I am not pretending we love the Jews. I don’t claim they should love us. I actually understand the Morgenthaus. But they’re tragically wrong. The United States must not allow a war to the death between England and Germany. We are all one civilization. We are the West. If we fight it out among ourselves we’ll go down before Asiatic Bolshevism. There will be barbaric darkness for a thousand years.”

Jagow fell silent, his hollow, somewhat feverish eyes boring at Pug. Then he put out a long stiff finger.

“If there were only a few strong advisers to give your President this viewpoint. But those advisers who aren’t Jewish are of British descent. It’s a damnable situation. We’ll beat the British, Captain Henry. We have the power. We never intended to fight them. The Führer could have built a thousand submarines and strangled England in three months. He never emphasized U-boats, you know that. What do we gain by such a victory? We only crush our finest natural ally.”

“Well, General, you attacked Poland when she was England’s ally. You made the deal with Stalin. Those things are done.”

“They were forced on us.” Behind a gloved hand, Jagow coughed long and genteelly. “We are a strange people, Captain Henry, hard for others to understand. We are very serious, very naïve. Always we are reaching for the stars. To others we seem insensitive and arrogant. Our English cousins are every bit as arrogant, I assure you. Ah, but what a manner they cultivated. They despise their Jews. They keep them out of the clubs where power is concentrated, and the banks, and all vital positions. But they act politely to them. We admitted the Jews to all our very highest circles, until they swarmed in and threatened to take over entirely. But we showed our feelings. That’s the difference. The German is all feeling, all Faustian striving. Appeal to his honor, and he will march or fly or sail to his death with a happy song. That is our naïveté, yes, our primitivism. But it is a healthy thing. America too has its naïveté, the primitive realism of the frontier, the cowboys.

“What does it all add up to? We need friends in the United States to explain that there are two sides to this war, and that the only solution is peace in the West, unity in the West, an alliance in the West that can control the world. - Ah, look there. The British marksmanship is rather hard on the French livestock, but that’s about all.”

On a distant hill, huge inverted pyramids of dirt splashed high in the air amid flame and smoke, and cows galloped clumsily around. The general glanced at his watch. “I have a little conference at headquarters. If you can stay for dinner, there is a very pleasant restaurant in Lille –”

“I have to return to Berlin, General. I can’t express my gratitude, but -”

Up went the glove. “Please. To talk to an American, a professional military man, who shows some understanding of our situation, is literally good for my health.”

Messerschmitts were landing in the rain when Jagow turned Victor Henry over to his lieutenant at the entrance to the headquarters building.

“If we can be of further service in the matter of Flight Lieutenant Gallard, let us know,” Jagow said, stripping off a glove to offer a damp cold hand. “
Auf Wiedersehen
, Captain Henry. If I have been of any small service, all I ask is this. Wherever duty takes you, remember there are two sides to the war, and that on both sides there are men of honor.”

* * *

The ornately molded and carved ceilings in Wolf Stöller’s bank seemed forty feet high. A few clerks worked silently behind the grilles. The footsteps of the two men on the red marble floor echoed and re-echoed under the high vault, like the tramp of a platoon. “It is a little gloomy here now,” said Stöller, “but very private. This way, Victor.”

They passed through a sizable conference room into a small richly furnished office, with a blaze of paintings crowding the walls; little though he knew, Henry recognized two Picassos and a Renoir.

“So, you go so soon,” Stöller said, gesturing to a heavy maroon-leather couch, “Did you expect this?”

“Well, I thought my relief would be along in a couple of weeks. But when I got back from Lille, here he was, waiting.”

“Of course you are anxious to be reunited with your very beautiful wife.”

Victor Henry said, with a glance at the larger Picasso, a gruesomely distorted woman in flaring colors, “I thought modern art was frowned on in the Third Reich.”

Stöller smiled. “It has not gone down in value. The field marshal has one of the great collections of the world. He is a very civilized man. He knows these things will change.”

“They will?”

“Most assuredly, once the war is over. We are a nation under siege, Victor. Nerves get frayed, a mood of extremism prevails. That will die away. Europe will be a wonderful place to live. Germany will be the pleasantest place of all. What do you say to a glass of sherry?”

“That’ll be fine. Thanks.”

Stöller poured from a heavy crystal decanter. “What do we drink to? I daresay you won’t drink to the victory of Germany.”

With a tart grin Pug said, “We’re neutral, you know.”

“Ah, yes. Ah, Victor, if only you were! How gladly we would settle for that. Well, to an honorable peace?”

“Sure. To an honorable peace.”

They drank.

“Passable?”

“Fine. I’m no expert on wines.”

“It’s supposed to be the best sherry in Europe.”

“It’s certainly very good.”

The banker settled in an armchair and lit a long cigar. In the light of the floor lamp his scalp glistened pink through his thin flat hair. “Your little trip to Lille was a success, hm?”

“Yes, I’m obliged to you and the general.”

“Please. By the ordinary rules, such a thing would be not only unusual but utterly impossible. Among men of honor, there are special rules.” Stöller heaved an audible sigh. “Well, Victor, I didn’t ask you to give me some time just to offer you sherry.”

“I didn’t suppose so.”

“You’re a military man. There are special conversations that sometimes have to be forgotten, obliterated without a trace. In German we have a special phrase for these most delicate matters. ‘Under four eyes.’”

“I’ve heard the phrase.”

“What transpires next is under four eyes.”

Victor Henry, intensely curious at this point, felt there was nothing to do but let the banker talk on. What might be coming next, he could not imagine; his best guess was a wispy peace feeler at second hand from Göring, to convey to the President.

“You had a conversation with Gregor Jagow about the course of the war. About the tragic absurdity of this fratricidal conflict between Germany and England.”

Pug nodded.

“Did his ideas make sense to you?”

“Frankly, we don’t study geopolitics in the Navy. At least we don’t call it that. So I’m not up on Spengler and so forth.”

“You’re an American pragmatist,” said Stöller with a smile.

“I’m a gunnery expert misplaced in diplomacy, and hoping the hell to get out of it.”

“I believe you. The man of honor wants to serve in the field.”

“I’d like to do what I’m trained for.”

“You do agree that American help, and expectation of far greater help, is what is keeping England in the war?”

“Partly. They just don’t feel like quitting. They think they’ll win.”

“With American help.”

“Well, they think they’ll get it.”

“Then what stands between the whole Western world and an honorable peace - which you and I just drank to - is Churchill’s reliance on help from Roosevelt.”

Pug took a few moments to answer. “Maybe, but what’s an honorable peace? Churchill would want to depose Hitler. Hitler would want to depose Churchill. Both those gentlemen are equally firmly in the saddle, and both really represent the national will. So there you are.”

“You are going back to serve as naval aide to President Roosevelt.” Stöller said this with a slight interrogative note.

Pug’s face registered no surprise. “I’m going back to the Bureau of Personnel for reassignment.”

The banker’s smile was tolerant and assured. “Well, our intelligence usually gets these things right. Now, Victor, let me have my say, and don’t break in until I’ve finished. That’s all I ask. All right?”

“All right.”

The banker puffed twice at his cigar. “Men of honor talk among themselves, Victor, in a special language. I’m addressing you now in that vocabulary. These are matters of incredible delicacy. In the end, beneath the words there must be a spiritual kinship. With you, Gregor Jagow and I have felt that kinship. You have been impeccably correct, but unlike so many people at the American embassy, you don’t regard Germans as cannibals. You have treated us as human beings like yourself. So did your delightful and beautiful wife. It has been noticed, I assure you. That you sympathize with England is only natural. I do myself. I love England. I spent two years at Oxford.

“Now, you heard what Gregor said about the Jewish influence around your President. I know you have to deny it, but it is a very serious fact of this war. We must live with it and do what we can about it.”

Pug tried to speak. Stöller held up a rigid palm. “You said you would hear me out, Victor. In the circumstances, we need friends in Washington. Not to use undue influence, as the Jews do so shamelessly. Simply to present the other side. Roosevelt is a man of very broad vision. He can be made to see that American interest requires a swift honorable peace in the West. For one thing, only such a development can free him to handle Japan. Do you suppose we give a damn about Japan? That new pact is all comedy to keep the Russians worried and quiet.

“Now, Victor - and remember this is under four eyes - we do have such friends. Not many. A few. Patriotic Americans, who see the realities of the war instead of the propaganda of the Jews - and of Churchill who is just an adventurous megalomaniac and has never been anything else. We hope you’ll be another such friend.”

Victor Henry regretted that he had drunk up the glass sherry rather fast. The conversation was taking a turn which needed sharp handling. He leaned forward.

“Let me go on,” said the banker, waving the cigar at him. “You know of my connection with Hermann Göring. To me he is a great figure of European history. His practical grasp of affairs and his energy still astound me. The Führer – well, the Führer is different, he operates on a plane above all of us, a plane of prophecy, of grand dreams. The engineer at the throttle is Göring. Nothing in Germany escapes him. Nothing happens that he does not approve and know about. You Americans with your Puritan bias think him a bit of a sultan. But we Germans love opera and opulence. It’s a weakness. The field marshal knows that and plays to it. Of course, he thoroughly enjoys himself too. Why not? His zest for life is Faustian, Rabelaisian.

“Victor, Hermann Göring has established in Switzerland some anonymous, untraceable bank accounts. His resources are enormous. These bank accounts, after the war, will be rewards of Germany’s honorable friends, who have said the right word in the right place for her when it mattered. It is nothing like espionage, where you pay some sneaking wretch for papers or information he hands over. This is simple gratitude among men of honor, a sharing of benefits in the day of victory. If our friends want the accounts, they will be there. If they don’t -” Stöller shrugged and sat back. “I’ve said my piece, Victor. And after you’ve said yours, this conversation will be as if it never existed.”

It was one of the few occasions in Victor Henry’s life when he was taken totally by surprise.

“That’s interesting,” he said. “Extremely interesting.” After a measurable pause he went on, “Well! First, please tell me, if you can, what made you, or General Jagow, or Field Marshal Göring, think that I might be receptive to this approach. That’s highly important to me, and to this whole matter, I assure you.”

My dear chap, the Washington picture is vital, and you’re en route to Washington. The day American supplies to England are shut off, we’ve won the war. We’ve got it won now, really, but England is just hanging on, hoping for she doesn’t know what. She’ll be flat broke in three or four months, and if your Neutrality Act holds, that’s the end. Now Victor, the field marshal remembers your interesting visit with the banker Gianelli. His purpose now is exactly what Roosevelt’s was then, to avoid further useless bloodshed. He thinks you can help, and General Jagow is confident that you will.” Stöller gave Pug his most ingratiating smile, crinkling his eyes almost shut. “As for me, I know your exquisite wife is a very sympathetic and friendly woman. My guess is that she has always reflected your real feelings, more than your correct words. I trust I’m right.”

Victor Henry nodded. “I see. That’s a clear answer, Herr Stöller. Here’s mine, under four eyes. Please tell Field Marshal Göring, for me, to stick his Swiss bank account up his fat ass.”

Blue smoke wreathed around Stöller’s shocked face. His eyes went wide and glassy, his face became dark red from his striped collar to his hair, and his scalp reddened too. His teeth showed in an ugly smile. “I remind you, Captain Henry,” he said in a new slow singsong tone, “that you have not left the Third Reich yet. You are still in Berlin. Field Marshal Hermann Göring is second here only to the Führer.”

“I’m an officer in the United States Navy. Unless I misunderstood you, or you want to withdraw it” – Victor Henry’s voice hardened almost to a bark – “you’ve asked me, in his name, to commit treason for money.”

The banker’s nasty smile faded. In a placating tone, with a soft look, spreading out his hands, he said, “My dear Victor, how
can
you take it in that way? I beg you, think! The highest officers in the American armed forces blatantly and openly advocate help for England all the time. What I asked of you was just to present both sides, when the occasion arose, for the sake of American security and for peace.”