Himmler's War-ARC (18 page)

Carter handed him a canteen. It contained a cheap cognac. “That’s right. They were shooting at you and they had killed some of our buddies. And don’t forget we’re in the army of a nation that’s at war with the most monstrous regime in the history of mankind. This isn’t a game, Jack. It ain’t football like you played at Michigan State. We were brought here to kill them, and that’s the plain and simple truth. If you had let them go, they would’ve set up shop and done it again and again. Look on the bright side, Bomber Morgan, Captain Jack-Off, you may have saved some lives in the future.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier to face, and I wish to hell you’d stop calling me ‘Bomber’ or that other thing. If anybody was alive in that truck, they burned to death. I can’t think of anything worse than burning to death.”

Carter sat beside him and lit a cigarette while Jack took another pull of the cognac. “Somebody once said that it isn’t that killing’s so awful, rather it’s so easy. I like to think it was Robert E. Lee because it’s such a worthwhile statement, but I don’t know.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” said Levin. “I’ve seen enough dead bodies to qualify as a wholesale funeral director. But Jack’s right, it’s different when you’re responsible for making them that way.”

Carter took a swallow. “Know what I did back at that last farmhouse? I stuck the barrel of my main gun into a basement window and fired. Anything in that house was obliterated, Jack, and I don’t give a shit who or what it was. I didn’t care if they were soldiers trying to kill me, wounded waiting to surrender, or civilians, or some nuns drinking beer and playing poker. There were Nazis in there and they were trying to kill me. Kill or be killed and fuck the rules of war, the Geneva Convention, and anybody else who thinks you can teach soldiers to play nice-nice in a game when the loser gets a decent funeral if they can find enough of him to bury.”

Jack looked at Carter and smiled. “Where’s your southern accent? You lost it again.”

“I’m bilingual” Carter said and burped. “I like to turn it on for the home folks and those officers here who think I’m just a dumb-ass cracker. When this war is over, I’m going into politics and sounding like a down home boy is just a good idea.”

“You’re deeper than I thought,” Jack said.

“Indeed I am that. And, by the way, I thought you might be lonely, so I took the liberty of giving my cousin your name and how to contact you. If you’re luckier than you deserve, she might write you a letter.”

Jack thought he’d like to hear from Jeb’s cousin. “Thanks.”

Levin grinned wickedly. “Jeb, you don’t have any Jewish cracker cousins do you?”

       * * *

Varner was exhausted. He fell asleep in the staff car that took him to the outskirts of Berlin and the laboratory of the physicist, Werner Heisenberg. He had barely landed in Berlin after flying from the Seine in a ridiculous little plane called a Fieseler Storch.

The Storch’s pilot, a complete lunatic, was in his sixties and said he’d flown with von Richthofen in the First World War. He’d insisted on flying at treetop level to avoid being seen by American planes. When Varner wondered out loud if the Americans didn’t have better things to do than attack a plane as small as the Storch, the pilot had cackled and said planes like the Storch were the only German planes flying; therefore, they were a likely target. Varner thought that the comment did not bode well for the status of the Luftwaffe.

The Storch had a rearward facing machine gun which the pilot said would be used if they were attacked from the rear. If they were attacked from the front or side, the pilot said they were fucked. He also said it was Varner’s job to fire the machine gun if an American plane tried to climb up their tail.

When he’d finally gotten to the OKW, he was informed that Werner Heisenberg wished to see him and that Rundstedt also wished him to see Heisenberg. Immediately.

Before falling asleep, Varner had a chance to read the short letters sent him by Magda, detailing their journey and safe arrival at the farm. He was distressed at her telling of the death train, not only because Margarete had to see it, but because it was happening at all. Such stupidities should not be occurring in Germany.

He was appalled to find that the two women had been conscripted to help build the Rhine fortifications. Soon, those construction sites would be bombed by the Allies, if they weren’t already. He didn’t like to do it, but he would see if he could pull some strings and get his family out of danger.

Then he had dozed off while his driver dodged fallen buildings and bomb craters. It was just another afternoon drive in Berlin.

Heisenberg greeted him effusively in his cluttered office. “I’ve heard about your journeys to the west. I trust you found our defenses capable of stopping the Americans.”

“Just barely possible,” Varner said. “However, you did not bring me here to discuss Festung Seine or the Rhine Wall. Do you have more information regarding your nuclear bomb? Is it possible?”

Heisenberg smiled tentatively. “Indeed it is possible. However there are other practical matters you must discuss with Reichsfuhrer Himmler and others.”

“Understood, but why is it now possible when a few days ago it wasn’t?”

“Because one of my brilliant assistants suggested that I had made a significant miscalculation in my estimate of the amount of uranium that would be needed. Whereas I thought we would require tons, a revisit of the research indicates we will only need a few pounds. We could never have produced tons, but several pounds is well within our capabilities.”

“Excellent, but when will the bomb be ready?”

“If all goes well, a year. Can the Reich hold out that long?”

Varner laughed harshly. “We’ll know in a year, won’t we? Now, what are the other practical matters?”

“The sheer size of the bomb that must be built. It will weigh at least several tons, which precludes it from being part of a warhead on a V2 rocket even if we wanted it to be. A V2 is an unstable platform and many have exploded while being launched. Should that happen with an armed nuclear bomb on board, the results would be catastrophic to the Reich.”

Varner winced. He’d seen films of rockets exploding while launching.

“A bomber could possibly carry it, but, again, how likely is it that a German bomber would be able to penetrate Allied airspace and drop it on an important target, like London? More likely it would be shot from the sky and then the bomb would disappear in a relatively harmless poof. Perhaps I did not mention, but the bomb must be armed before it can detonate, and that should occur only when quite near the target and it is time to be used. For the same reasons, U-boats are not practicable and neither are the few surface ships we have remaining. There is a very high probability that they all would be caught and sunk.”

“What about the idea of building small bombs, Doctor?”

“Alas, it is for the future. The mechanism needed to detonate a nuclear bomb cannot be shrunk at this time.”

“Then we must build the bomb, plant it, and wait for the enemy to come to it,” Varner said thoughtfully. “And that means it will have to be detonated in Germany. Dear God,” he said.

Varner had a thought. “Tell me, Doctor, could the bomb be moved at all?”

Heisenberg was puzzled. “Of course, Colonel. Push hard enough and anything can be moved.”

* * *

Colonel Hans Schurmer arrived at the headquarters of General Courtney Hodges blindfolded, a tradition when crossing enemy lines under a flag of truce. Both men thought it was a ridiculous custom and Hodges thought it would be nice if the German actually saw the firepower arrayed against him and the vast quantities of supplies available to the American army. However, he was overruled.

Omar Bradley’s Twelfth Army Group consisted of Hodges’ First Army, which was north of Paris, and Patton’s Third, which was to the south. How and if the Germans would defend Paris had been a source of speculation for some time as the American advance inexorably drew closer. What would the Nazis do about defending the City of Lights, the home of Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Montmartre, and so much else that the cultured world held dear? There was the more prosaic fact that the U.S. Army did not want a bloody fight in a major city, forcing them to take the place street by street and building by building. Ike, Bradley, and Hodges had all read about the horrific fighting in Stalingrad and Leningrad and did not wish to waste American lives on a gutted and burned trophy. Their choice would be to bypass the city.

Charles de Gaulle agreed up to a point. Paris would be liberated sooner or later and he preferred both sooner and that French troops be the liberators. However, if the Germans fought for the city, the French didn’t have enough men in the one undersized armored division they had in the area. Other French units were well to the south and out of reach.

Nor did de Gaulle want the city destroyed as part of its liberation. Thus, the Americans were eager to hear what Schurmer wanted to say.

Hodges spoke first. “May I presume you represent the commander of the German forces in Paris?”

“I represent Field Marshal von Manteuffel and General von Choltitz, yes.”

“And you are here to negotiate terms for the surrender of the city?”

“Ah, not quite, General. I am here to discuss the possibility of Paris not being a part of the conflict.”

Hodges leaned back in his chair. “Are you proposing that Paris be declared an open city?”

“If that is the phrase you wish, then yes. Field Marshal Von Monteuffel desires that the city be spared the ravages of war. A bloody and destructive street fight for the city would serve no one. We propose that boundaries be laid out and that neither side initiate hostilities within those boundaries. We do not want a repeat of the mistake that occurred at Chartres.”

Hodges winced. The magnificent cathedral of Chartres had been shelled by American artillery when it was believed that a German unit was fortifying it, when only a handful of wounded had taken refuge. Damage had been extensive, but it was thought the cathedral could be repaired. Fortunately, the historic and magnificent stained glass windows had already been removed for safekeeping.

“But the German army now garrisons Paris. What of them?”

“Under General von Choltitz, the garrison will remain to maintain order. As you are aware, the population of Paris is ready to rise up once your armies approach. Therefore, you must make it clear to all concerned that you will not be entering the city and that the citizens of Paris must remain calm. Von Choltitz is a reasonable and even humane man, but he will not allow his men to be attacked and killed. The French resistance movement must be held in check.”

Hodges nodded thoughtfully. He could see much merit in Schurmer’s suggestion. He could also see where any delay in liberating Paris would raise holy hell in SHAEF and with de Gaulle.

“And when will you actually evacuate Paris, Colonel?”

Schurmer smiled wryly. “In the unlikely event that your army does cross the Seine and appears to be capable of outflanking or surrounding Paris, you have my word that von Choltitz will evacuate the garrison and not harm the city.”

When Hodges said nothing, Schurmer continued. “I assume that you will have to discuss this sensitive matter with your superiors. In that case, I suggest that you either return me to my people or hold me here as a guest until decisions are made.”

Hodges agreed that Schurmer should stay. He would be fed and made comfortable and allowed to glimpse American might. Hodges liked the idea of Paris being an open city and not fought over as much as the German did. Hodges thanked Schurmer for his proposal and they parted company. The German was informed that some officers from SHAEF would like to talk with him and would he mind? Schurmer allowed that he really didn’t have a choice if he was going to accept American hospitality. Hodges nodded and left Schurmer alone.

They did not shake hands.

CHAPTER 9

THE SEINE, The Seine, thought Morgan, The beautiful Seine. Only now it was wreathed in smoke and fire and punctuated by explosions as artillery and bombs took turns trying to destroy what the Nazis had made.

The men of the 74th now took these things in stride. They’d seen how the Germans could dig in and how useless bombardments sometimes were. Still, this didn’t stop the brass from making confident announcements that the attack would be a walkover. One visiting general had said that there wouldn’t be a kraut left alive when the shelling was done. Carter had then asked the man if he would like to go in with him when the troops crossed, perhaps in Jeb’s own tank? The general had snarled and walked away. Colonel Whiteside had merely rolled his eyes and pretended he hadn’t heard the exchange.

Others were also not so sure it would be a walkover. Colonel Stoddard, for example, was not impressed by the shelling although he kept up a brave front. He couldn’t have the men see that their commanding officer was worried. By this time, Jack had seen Stoddard and Whiteside often enough to know their moods and he was certain the two men were faking their enthusiasm for the battle that was coming.

In the First World War, intense and prolonged shelling hadn’t penetrated the German bunkers and the result had been the slaughter of soldiers at the Somme, Ypres, and a host of other places close to where they were going to fight.

Nor had the intense naval bombardment destroyed the German defenses at Normandy on D-Day. Even worse, the fourteen- and fifteen-inch guns of the American and Royal navies’ battleships wouldn’t be a factor since they couldn’t make it up the Seine in the first place. Nor would they make it up the Rhine, if it came to that.

In a moment of sanity, Jack had received a warm and chatty letter from Jeb’s cousin Jessica. In response he’d dashed off and mailed a letter he now wondered might have been too much too soon. He’d found himself opening up about his fears to someone he’d never seen or met. But why not? For some reason he felt totally at home talking with her even though it was by mail. Jessica had told him of her frustrations with the refugees. He jokingly invited her for dinner at Ike’s headquarters.