John Schettler - Grand Alliance

“Not so fast, Paulus,” he said. “I must tell you that I have been having second thoughts about this business in North Africa. Greece has fallen, and we have the Balkans in our possession now. I have troops sitting right on the Turkish frontier at this very moment. One good push and we can take Istanbul and seize the Bosporus.”

“It will do us no good as long as the Soviets still control the Black Sea,” Paulus warned.

“That was why I allowed Raeder to move my battleships into the Mediterranean!” Hitler’s cheeks reddened as he said that, his tone just beneath the level of a shout. “Now look what he has done with them! I am told that Hindenburg and Bismarck will both need repairs, and Raeder is asking me to send the steel to Toulon. Where did the British get these new rocket weapons? Why is it we knew nothing of this development until they were firing them at our ships? Now I am told the British have tanks that are impervious to our finest guns. This is an outrage!”

“I agree, my Fuhrer, and I am certain we will quickly catch up with them. I have also seen the prototypes of our own new rocket designs, and they look very promising.”

“Yes? Well they will look much more promising to me when I hear they are firing at British ships.” Now Hitler leaned over the map table again, a sullen expression on his pallid features.

“I did not get here by chance, Paulus,” he said, a strange tone in his voice. “I was meant to be here. Yes, we will pour everything we have into research on these new weapons. And we will get newer and better tanks as well. The proposals are already on my desk, and we will soon show the British that two can play at this game. But now I must decide about the Russians. What you say is true. As long as the Soviets control the Black Sea, then we will be unable to ship the oil through from Orenburg. So that will now be my number one priority. Understand? We will build up strength here,” he pointed at the borders near Moldavia and the Ukraine.

“I will smash through and take the Crimea-take the bases the Soviet Black Sea fleet must use if they are to impede those oil shipments. Once I have the Bosporus, and the Crimea, then no further occupation of Turkish territory will be necessary. So why should I send more troops to North Africa when I can put them to good use here?” His fist came down hard on the Turkish frontier, but Paulus held his composure, waiting for the storm to abate.

“A wise strategy,” he said. “Unless the British reinforce Turkey, as you know they will as long as they remain a strong and viable force in the Middle East. If we do not support Rommel now, what will they do with all the troops they pull from East Africa? I can read a map as well, my Fuhrer. First they will put down this rebellion in Iraq that poses a threat to their own oil production. Then they will chase the Vichy French out of Syria, and after that, you will see British troops in Turkey and possibly even Iran to open a front against the southern borders of Volkov’s key oil production centers in the Caspian. There is only one way to prevent that-by keeping the British well occupied with a credible threat to Egypt. You must keep the pressure on them and force them to send troops into the Western Desert. Starve Rommel and he will just sit there swatting flies. Feed him and there is a chance we can push east again. This is a man you can rely on, in spite of recent setbacks. And there is another axis of attack that we can open against Egypt as well-Crete.”

“Crete?”

“Of course, my Fuhrer. Again you correctly point out that it must be taken to prevent the British from establishing strong air bases there. Now is the time for that-and this should be done before the Bosporus operation, and certainly before you contemplate any move on the Crimea. That means war with Soviet Russia, and do not think it can be confined to the southern region. The front will extend all the way to the Baltic, and once that begins it will suck in every division we have like a maelstrom. No. First Crete, then we have those bases to threaten Alexandria and the Suez, instead of British bombers over the oil fields of Ploesti. After Crete, we have the option of strongly reinforcing Syria, and stopping the British plan to support Turkey while also posing a direct threat to Palestine.”

“Syria? Palestine? And how do you propose I get the troops there with Hindenburg and Bismarck laid up in the repair yards at Toulon? The Italians took a sound beating and have withdrawn their navy to La Spezia. I cannot send troops to the Levant by sea with the British fleet still at Alexandria. Must I rely on the French Navy?”

“I have spoken to Raeder on this,” said Paulus quickly. “Yes, these new naval rockets the enemy uses have become a real problem, but he has ideas on how to deal with that. The British fleet also took heavy losses in the recent engagement, and we did prove one thing that Goering will certainly agree with-air power trumps naval power, particularly in narrow, confined waters like those of the Aegean and Mediterranean Sea. This is why we took Malta-to prevent the British from using air power to interdict our naval supply lines to North Africa. Now that we have that in hand, we can build up a strong force behind Rommel, and the British will have to answer that. They are scraping up every division they can find-Indians, Australians, South Africans. Yet here we sit with 150 divisions twiddling their thumbs when a decisive move now in the Middle East could secure your right flank for the planned drive against the Crimea. Everything you have planned is correct, my Fuhrer, entirely sound. But to succeed we must make certain the British cannot interfere as I have described, and the time to do that is now, before we open the war against the Soviets.”

“Yes, yes, I have heard all of this from Halder and Keitel. They have been talking to Raeder as well, and now they both believe Crete should be the next operation, but I am not so sure.”

“It is not a question of either or,” said Paulus. “Crete was always a target of your overall strategy.” He continued to present everything as Hitler’s own personal plan. “Goering says he has over 1100 planes in Greece. The British have fewer than fifty on Crete. Now is the time to strike there, while our superiority in air power is overwhelming. You saw how Student’s Fallschirmjagers took Malta. They were able to do so because the British did not have time to build up defenses there. But you know they will on Crete-particularly if we do not keep the pressure on them in North Africa. Attack Crete now and it may fall easily. Then we can contemplate a move against Cyprus and Palestine-by air, my Fuhrer. We can use our overwhelming air power to land troops by air. Once there, the Vichy French in Syria can help supply them. It is either that or the British will take the whole region in time. You know this as well as I do.”

Hitler narrowed his eyes, thinking deeply, remembering those terrible battles against the dogged British army in the last war. Paulus was correct. The British were a rock that would sit stubbornly on his flank if it was not smashed and destroyed… or buried…”

“Very well,” he said slowly, standing upright and nodding his head. “Get Rommel the troops and supplies he needs. Use any forces that seem practical. But get rid of the British, Paulus. Understand? I will give you until Summer. After that…”

He said nothing more.

The time had finally come for Fedorov to return to the ship, and the KA-40 lifted off in a whirl of blowing dust. He looked out as they gained altitude, seeing the elements of Kinlan’s brigade in company sized positions on the desert below. He knew it would not be long before the Germans were over-flying them as well. Kinlan had only so many air defense missiles in train.