Charles Jackson - England Expects

The reports he poured over that evening were to do with armaments production, forwarded personally to him at his request by Armaments Minister Albert Speer. It wasn’t technically an area the Reichsmarschall had jurisdiction over but the pair had developed a close working relationship over the last few years. Speer — originally Hitler’s architect — had replaced Fritz Todt as Minister for Armaments at Reuters’ specific request and the man had proven himself an unorthodox ‘natural’ at the post. Armaments were something in which Reuters was keenly interested: the historical lessons of the failures in Germany’s production base — learned in hindsight — were clear and vitally important in the man’s mind.

Germany was a nation that had never fully geared up for war until it was far too late. Chaotic lack of standardisation and a lack of unity in general between the army, Luftwaffe , Kriegsmarine and Waffen-SS , along with the attendant political infighting, power squabbles and back-biting, had contributed significantly to Germany losing a world war. As a direct result of that, his homeland had suffered devastation and deprivation at the hands of brutal and uncaring enemies and there was no way Reuters would allow that to happen again. He and his personal staff had worked for years to ensure the technical and numerical superiority of the Wehrmacht , and with the power at Reuters’ command he was able to make sure many potential problems were nipped in the bud before they could take root and flourish.

This time, he thought darkly as he considered the issue , the fate of Grossdeutschland will be very different !

There was a knock at the door, followed quickly by the entry of his personal assistant and close personal friend, Generalleutnant Albert Schiller. Possessed of a keen eye, sharp wit and a fine, analytical mind, the forty-five year old had worked by Reuters’ side for more than twenty years.

“Good evening, Albert…” Reuters acknowledged genially, looking up with a smile as the other man approached “…just back from Berlin?”

“Touched down about an hour ago,” Schiller replied with a faint smirk. “Decided to pick up something to eat at the mess before I came to see you — didn’t want my glorious leader to think I was wasting away…”

“As long as you’re bitching about something , I’ll know you’re fine,” Reuters countered with a grin, taking the humour in the manner it was meant. “That bloody goulash and black bread again?” He winced honestly as his friend nodded in grim confirmation. “I think it’s about time we had a word to the catering corps about getting some decent chefs in here!” It was always the little things, Reuters added silently as Schiller nodded again, this time fervently, and drew up a high-backed wooden chair to sit opposite his commander,… always the little things that took the longest to organise .

“How’s production going?” Schiller inquired, noting the reports Reuters was studying. “…Speer getting everything up to speed?”

“Well enough, under the circumstances,” Reuters answered with a shrug that was mostly non-committal. “…Far better than Todt ever managed, to be certain, but when can a soldier ever be happy about how many weapons his factories give him?” He gave an ironic smile as he considered the massive changes moving to a full war footing had wrought upon German industry. “At least we’re seeing some real war production in the factories for a change…enough to see us starting to run short on some raw materials like nickel and tungsten now, although we’ve enough of a stockpile to see us through our plans in the West.” He paused and sighed softly, more concern showing on his face now as he considered exactly how short they actually were on some of those strategic materials, adding, mostly to himself… “It’d better be enough…!” He roused himself once more and coaxed a more optimistic expression back to his features. “…The first of our Panther divisions should be fully equipped and trained up by the middle of next month — the 3 rdSS will have that honour in deference to keeping the esteemed Reichsführer happy - and sturmgewehr production is twenty percent above predictions, which is excellent. There should be enough new rifles and machine pistols to equip the whole theatre by the end of July — so long as they can get enough of the new bloody rifle ammunition out, we’ll be fine…”

“The Graf Zeppelin …?”

“Going through final sea trials now, and Raeder assures me she’ll be ready for combat duty by the end of August. The attack squadrons are already operational and there’s just the helicopter groups still to go through carrier conversion training. Seydlitz , Hindenburg and ‘Strasser are also ahead of schedule and should be operational by mid-September, which would be an added bonus. The battleships Rheinland and Westfalen are also nearing completion, and Von der Tann and Derrflinger should be finishing sea trials and joining Bismarck and Tirpitz in service shortly.”

He sifted through some of the loose papers before him on the table. “There are also another three ‘Type-Tens’ coming off the slipways at Kiel and Wilhelmshaven this month, making twenty-two launched to date and fourteen actually in service. Not anywhere near as many as I or Dönitz would like, but we may not need the U-boat service all that desperately now, and we must have our capital ships if we want to project any power into the Atlantic…”

Reuters raised a finger as a thought occurred to him. “Oh, and as a matter of interest I’ve kicked your recommendation for Kohl’s Ritterkreuz ‘upstairs’…” meaning he’d forwarded the application for a decoration to the Führer for approval.

“ U-1004 wasn’t it — the ‘boat that torpedoed Rodney ?” Schiller nodded in agreement. “…Why not, indeed…? Prien got one for sinking Royal Oak , so why not hand one out for any Tommi battleship?” The younger man paused for a moment, his eyes suddenly alight with a rare intensity as the reality of it all momentarily took his breath away. “We’re really going to do it, aren’t we, Kurt! No matter how many times I tell myself, it’s still just so incredible !” Normally a pessimistic and cynical man beneath the façade of his caustic wit, Albert Schiller couldn’t help but be caught up by the older man’s zeal and drive when in the presence of a commander he looked up to almost as a father figure for more than two decades.

“I spoke with the Führer personally again today on that subject…” Reuters informed softly, nodding at Schiller’s remarks. “He’s going to officially issue ‘Directive-17’ this week. Although he’s still loathe to invade Britain, I’ve convinced him ‘Sealion’ is vital: the Reich must be secure in the west and there’ll be no backing away from that this time!”

“‘ We shall fight them on the beaches… ’!” Schiller almost laughed at the thought. “I can’t believe the old bastard still made that bloody speech after the thrashing we gave them at Dunkirk! The whole of the BEF stranded and encircled by Guderian’s panzers, and we sent Furious and two cruisers to the bottom of the Channel as well!”

“We shan’t need to worry about the Royal Air Force this time, either ,” Reuters murmured, his eyes glazing slightly as he cast his mind back over his own life. Five years of pre-planning and another seven years of preparation in the field were now coming to fruition, and with that would come the erasure of decades of national humiliation — humiliation that would now not only be redressed: it would in fact never have existed. “With the surprises and the overwhelming numbers we’ll be meeting the RAF with over the next few months, they won’t know what’s hit them!”