Robert Conroy - Germanica

Guisan nearly jumped out of his chair but caught himself in time. “What! That’s preposterous.”

“Yes, General. If you had cooperated more fully with us and opened your border to German soldiers who wished to surrender instead of turning them back to the SS, it is entirely possible that the Nazi government would have collapsed. In fact, I urge you to do that now. Announce that you will give sanctuary to any German soldier who crosses over and perhaps there won’t be any German soldiers left when the real fighting begins. Wouldn’t you like to see Herr Goebbels walking around Bregenz alone and confused and the world at peace again?”

Guisan’s expression softened. “I’ll admit the vision has some merit. I will further admit that what happened was indeed an accident. I am, however, required to protest vehemently, but I know that you know that as well.”

“Then let me make another suggestion. At some point in the fighting, when the moment is appropriate, send the Swiss army across the border to attack the rear of the German forces. This could be done unilaterally by Switzerland without signing any formal alliance with the United States. This would preserve your position of neutrality. You could simply state that it was necessary to protect Swiss lives and property. It would also assure you of the good will of the United States by shortening the war and saving American lives. And perhaps it would save Swiss civilians from further accidents as the fighting gets closer.”

“You have incredible gall.”

Dulles checked his watch with dramatic flourish. “Time is short, General. Please think about it. You would not want to find out that your precious neutrality is a fiction.”

* * *

Cullen grabbed Tanner’s arm. “I think you should come outside with me.”

Tanner did as he was told. It was evening and the first thing he noticed was a distinct chill in the air. It was further evidence that the days of warm weather were drawing to a close. The mountaintops were often hidden by mists. They formed a cover that did not always disappear the next day. In only a few more weeks, serious snowfalls would begin, making campaigning in the Alps a virtual impossibility.

Cullen again grabbed Tanner. “Quit gawking at the scenery and come with me.”

“Yes, Mother.”

They came to the tent that housed Father Shanahan’s Catholic chapel. Cullen pushed Tanner inside and closed the flap, leaving him alone. It took a couple of seconds for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he saw Lena standing by the makeshift altar. She was crying and had an envelope in her hand.

He ran to her and held her while Cullen tactfully disappeared. “Is something wrong?” he asked and realized it was a terribly dumb question to ask. Of course something was wrong. She handed him the envelope. “It’s a letter that Father Shanahan got. It’s from my father. He’s alive,” she laughed and added, “obviously.”

“That’s great. How is he?”

“He says he’s in good health and has been looking for me. Even more amazing, he’s in New York .”

Tanner laughed. “How on earth did he get there?”

“He says it’s a long story and he’ll tell me when we’re together. He’s working in a pharmacy and trying to get his doctor’s license back. He says that isn’t going to be difficult once his English improves. He wants me to come to New York as well.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Of course it is, Tanner thought. There would be nothing for her in Czechoslovakia.

“Yes, but I’m not going anywhere without you. The army will give me a glowing recommendation to expedite my status as an immigrant. But you have to come with me. You do love me, don’t you?”

“You wouldn’t believe how much,” he said and they hugged again.

Lena stroked his cheek. “Once upon a time, you told me that you could get a medical discharge because of your problems with trench foot and pneumonia. Why don’t you do that, and we can get married and go to America.”

Tanner took a deep breath. “That sounds like the greatest idea I’ve heard in a long, long time. However, I don’t think we’re going anywhere until this war is over or at least this battle has ended. Not only would the army shoot down any request of mine right now, despite what Hagerman says, but I don’t think I could leave without doing my part.”

“I understand. However, that means you have to do one more thing for me. You have to promise me that you will do everything in your power to stay alive.”

Sure, he thought as he made the promise. Words are easy. But how would it be on a landing craft headed for the coast of Lake Constance and the German capital of Bregenz? Survival had always been his number one priority, and it was even more important now that he’d met Lena.

Rather than thinking dark thoughts, they both thought it was best if they spent these precious few minutes holding each other and wishing they had more than a few minutes.

* * *

Another betrayal, thought Josef Goebbels as he contemplated the message he’d just been handed. What remained of his intelligence service said that the Swiss were moving large numbers of troops towards the border. This was coming on the heels of their surprising announcement that any deserters from the German army would be welcomed with open arms by the Swiss government and not returned to Germany against their will. Obviously the Swiss had succumbed to pressure from the Americans. Air drops of leaflets proclaiming this had inundated the German lines. So far there had not been a mass exodus towards Switzerland, but he could only wonder when it would happen. More than ever he needed the strong and harsh efforts of his loyal SS.

That assumed, of course, that they remained loyal. How many would emulate Hahn and try to disappear? How many had false papers and money hidden away, waiting for just the right moment to disappear? Probably most of them, he thought wryly-after all, he did.

And now the Americans were also littering the place with pamphlets promising death and destruction on a level never seen before if the Wehrmacht did not surrender. The pamphlets hinted broadly at the expanded use of napalm, of an atomic bomb, and, perhaps most terribly, poison gas. Even the dumbest or most fanatic German soldier could tell that the Thousand Year Reich was in its death spasms. A thousand years? Goebbels laughed harshly. It had not lasted two decades. Hitler was dead and Germany was in ruins. Any idea Goebbels had of dying as a noble martyr had long since passed. When the time came, he would do as Hahn and so many others had done. He would cross the border and use the chain of safe houses that had been established for just such a contingency. He had the necessary false papers and the money to get away safely. It was a shame that he was so recognizable. He walked with a limp and his face and nose were not easily forgotten. Perhaps he could disguise himself as a woman, or have a doctor put a fake cast on his leg?

The sirens went off again. He swore. It was another damn raid by the Americans. What would it be this time, more pamphlets or napalm? He’d just gotten word that the Yanks had taken Lindau, only a few miles up the coast. The Yanks were exerting steady pressure against Vietinghoff’s units to the east. No major frontal attacks, just a constant nibbling from positions of power.

* * *

Napalm. The woods were burning. Hummel and Pfister could smell the stench of burning woodland as well as cooking flesh, much of it human.

Pfister was near his breaking point and wide-eyed with fear. “Do you think there will be a forest fire?” he asked. The thought of a wave of flames overcoming them and scorching them was terrifying.

“It’s too wet,” said Schubert and both Hummel and Pfister stared. Their shell-shocked companion had been responding to questions more and more lucidly. Maybe he really was on the road to recovery.