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Authors: Robert Conroy

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BOOK: North Reich
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Now it was really getting light out.
 
“I think the Germans have long since cleared out,” Canfield said.
 
“They probably had small boats stashed along the shore and are halfway to Toronto by now.”

      
“Wouldn’t surprise me at all,” Dubinski said.
 
“Be downright dumb to hang around and wait for us to show up, and I don’t think the Nazis are dumb.”

      
No they are not, Canfield thought.
 
He froze as he heard the sound of airplane engines.
 
A few moments later, a long, ribbon of what they quickly identified as German aircraft began flying over them, all heading south.
 
Intuitively, he knew that several other streams of enemy planes were also crossing over the U.S. border and heading to their targets.
 

      
“Bastards,” Dubinski screamed, “you fucking bastards!”

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Confusion reigned at the Pentagon, even more so than normally, thought Tom Grant.
 
Everybody and his brother was screaming for information and nobody had any.
 
There were rumors galore, but very little in the way of facts.
 
Something big and bad was unfolding along the border with Ontario and nobody was quite sure what.
 
Had the Germans actually attacked a week early?
 
If so, an American enemy had again caught the United States with its pants at least half down.

      
Truscott burst into the room, followed by Eisenhower.
 
This very early morning there was no engaging grin on Ike’s face.
 
He looked like he wanted to kill.

      
“Gather around and let’s summarize,” Truscott said.
 
Grant noticed that Ike stayed in the background.
 
“To the best of anyone’s knowledge, what is happening in Detroit?”

      
Major Schuman responded.
 
“Sir, it’s becoming clear that good sized raiding parties crossed the river at several locations and have commenced blowing up industrial facilities.
 
We know that the Ford Rouge plant is burning at a number of places, along with the Willow Run plant that makes B24 bombers.
 
We believe that a trainload of German soldiers came out of the railroad tunnel under the Detroit River and simply raced up the tracks to the factory that produces tanks and are blowing it up.
 
From what we’re getting from telephone calls and short wave radio, the raids are ongoing and the Nazis haven’t pulled out.
 
It’s likely that other factories will be destroyed as well.”

      
Ike finally spoke.
 
“Then they’re stupid.
 
They can’t destroy those facilities.
 
They can only damage them, and we can repair them fairly quickly.
 
They may be down for a couple of weeks, even some months, but destroy them?
 
Hell, no!”

      
“And Patton’s on his way,” Truscott added with a smile.
 
Patton had been ordered to keep his divisions at least fifty miles away from Detroit and the river, but apparently had permitted some good sized elements to “patrol and maneuver” much closer to the city.
 
They were on their way, mad as hell and armed to the teeth.
 
Patton had a history of twisting some orders and disobeying others.

      
“What about Fredendall?” asked Colonel Downing.
 
“Is he moving men towards the river?”

      
Truscott glared at him.
 
“Apparently he’s digging in.”
 
Truscott’s expression made it clear what he thought of Fredendall’s decision.
 

Fredendall was Marshall’s fair haired boy and was supposed to be a real fire breather.
 
This night, however, he hadn’t moved.
 
Tom and Downing shared a glance.
 
Had the almost infallible General Marshall made a mistake?
 
It wouldn’t be the first time that someone with a solid peacetime record failed when the guns began firing.
 
He recalled that Fredendall had never led troops in combat and wondered if he was freezing under the reality.
 
If you didn’t count the incident on the Canadian freighter, Tom hadn’t led men in combat either, but he wasn’t in charge of an army.

      
Truscott changed the topic.
 
“Grant, what about the radar sites?”

      
“General, I can confirm that there’s been no response from them, either by phone or radio.
 
The 27th regiment has patrols out, but it looks more and more like they were all blown up by saboteurs, just like what’s happening in Detroit.
 

      
Tom wondered if Major Canfield was involved in checking the radar sites.
 
Probably, he thought.
 
The man knew the area.

      
Ike stood and paced.
 
A cigarette dangled from his mouth and it occurred to Tom that neither general had gotten much sleep this night.
 
Why, he wondered?
 
Was it possible that they suspected, even knew, that the German assault would come this Saturday and not the next?
 
He would have to ask Alicia if she’d heard anything from Camp Washington and then wondered if she’d tell him even if she knew.

      
Tom wasn’t done with the bad news.
 
“We are being further hampered by the fact that electricity is out in a number of places in upper New York State and in Michigan.”

      
“So we’re blind,” Ike said.
 
“Well, let’s do what we can.
 
First, the men we do have along the border just became human spotters.
 
Get them along that radar gap with radios and telescopes.
 
We might not stop the first attack, but we sure as hell can stop the next ones.
 
At least we’ll get a little warning.”

      
“Are we going to get planes in the air?” asked Downing.

      
Truscott laughed harshly.
 
“And send them where?
 
The German HE111 has a range of more than fourteen hundred miles, which means it can fly from Toronto to Washington and back with no problem.
 
Yeah, we’ll go on alert and have planes up to protect those areas.
 
We may be wasting our time, but we have to do something.”

      
Truscott looked at Grant who had turned aside.
 
“You don’t agree with that, major?”

      
Grant sucked in his breath.
 
It never paid for a mere major to argue with a two star general.
 
“Sir, I think there may be a pattern in their attacks.
 
Yes, I don’t think we can rule out a bombing raid on either New York or Washington, but it seems to me that they are going after industrial targets.
 
If I’m right, I really think they’ll make a big push to hit steel producing facilities at Pittsburgh, and maybe just nuisance raids on New York or Washington.”

      
“Why just nuisance raids?” asked Truscott.

      
Grant answered.
 
“General, they just don’t have that many planes and the ones they have can’t do the job.
 
We estimate there’s somewhere around a thousand German planes now in Canada and only a couple of hundred of them are their HE111 bombers.
 
Worse, the German bombers only carry a couple of tons of bombs each.
 
They might get off one raid on Washington, like Doolittle did to Tokyo, but it won’t change things in the long run.

      
“Makes sense,” said Truscott.

      
Ike thought for a moment and made the decision.
 
“I agree that the krauts won’t send many of their bombers down here without fighter protection.
 
If I recall, their bombers are very vulnerable, and the ME109 would barely make it to Washington, even with drop tanks.
 
New York, however, would be within range. That said, we will concentrate on protecting our industry and hope that the bases around D.C. and New York are alert and ready. I’m sure the Germans will attack Washington if only to show that they can.”

      
“So when do we go on the offensive?” asked Downing.

      
Ike appeared to wince before he answered.
 
“Not until the president says so.
 
He’s waffling.
 
He’s awake and being informed as quickly as we find out ourselves. General Marshall and Admiral King are with him.
 
For a man who wanted the Germans to throw the first stone, he now wants to make sure this is the real thing and not something the krauts can apologize for and then move on, like they did with that destroyer they sank.
 
He wants to make sure they’ve actually started a war and not just created a bloody incident.
 
Apparently, he’s still afraid that the politicians who are in favor of totally supporting the war against Japan and, not surprisingly, supporting those thieves in China, will rise up against him.
 
If he was to ask for a declaration of war and congress turns it down, it would be humiliating.”

      
Grant was incredulous.
 
“Sir, that’s preposterous.
 
If the reports are correct, Germans have killed hundreds of our people and their bombers may be on their way to our cities as we speak. Sir, we’ve got to strike back just as soon as we can.”

      
Ike’s face turned red and Tom thought his military career had just come to a screeching halt.
 
Ike took a deep breath and smiled tightly.
 
“Major, I will tell you I agree with everything you’ve said if you will forget I just said that.
 
Understood?”

Tom sheepishly said he did.
 
A corporal rushed in, looked around in shock at all the brass staring at him, and handed a sheet of paper to Ike who read it and smiled.
 
“Waiting may be over, gentlemen.
 
This is from Ernie King and he’s saying that Kraut subs have begun attacking our shipping.
 
On his own, he’s ordered his ships and planes to attack and kill U-boats.”

 

 

Terry Romano and the men of the
Vampire
had just begun the turn back to base when they received the message that jarred them and which they would remember for the rest of their lives.
 
They were to commence unrestricted attacks on German U-boats immediately.
 

      
The first thing Terry did was ask for confirmation, and an angry voice complied.
 
Then he asked what American subs were in the area and was assured that none were within a couple of hundred miles of his location.

      
“How much fuel we got,” he asked and was told enough for a couple of hours, maybe more if they were careful.

      
Terry ordered them back over the ocean and got a raucous cheer from his crew.
 
Finally, they were going to be doing something.
 
Well, maybe.
 
First they would have to find a German. They’d done it before, but the Germans hadn’t been at war with the U.S. and might have been letting the Americans score some phantom points just to see what the bombers could do.

      
They’d been back on the graveyard shift for several weeks and it would be light enough to see in a while.
 
After flying back over the ocean for half an hour, they were beginning to wonder if their efforts were wasted when the co-pilot, Phil Watson, spotted the flames.
 
A ship was on fire.
 
They flew low and confirmed that it was an oil tanker that had become a raging inferno.
 
The Germans had drawn first blood and that enraged them.

      
They called in the ship’s location and were informed that the Coast Guard was already on the way.
 
They could see a couple of lifeboats standing away from the dying tanker.

      
“I wonder how many made it out of that inferno?” Watson asked quietly.
 
It was all too likely that men had either been burned to death or drowned.
 
This was their first experience of war and, while they would not admit it out loud, they didn’t like it at all.

      
Another half an hour and they were beginning to have serious fuel concerns.
 
The sun was rising which made things a little easier.
 
The sea below was relatively calm and they looked hard for the tell-tale sign of a periscope or a snorkel making waves that shouldn’t be there.

      
“Got something,” said the radar operator.
 
“It’s not much, but I think we should give it a look-see.”

BOOK: North Reich
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