John Ringo: Watch on the Rhine

“There is one more bit of news, quite possibly bad,” observed Prael with an evil grin. “They are sending us an advisor. Well, two of them actually. One is a man, just back from the Planet Diess, an Oberst[12] “Highest.” Colonel. Kiel. He’ll be along in a few weeks at most. The other is — ”

The vault door opened. In, stiffly and commandingly, stepped a tall, slender man, dressed in Bundeswehr gray under black leather, and sporting the insignia for a lieutenant general of Panzertruppen . But the officer seemed much too young to be…

“… Gentlemen, I am pleased to introduce to you Generalleutnant Walter Mühlenkampf, late of the Reichswehr , the Freikorps , la Armada de Espaňa , the Wehrmacht , and the Waffen SS. Now he slurps at the Bundeswehr trough. I see you found your own way, Herr General .”

The Kanzler had not yet come. It seemed impossible that he should be lost in this, his city.

As much as an Indowy could fume, Rinteel fumed. A complete lunar cycle of this people’s time I have sought a private conversation with the ruler of these Germans. How many will die for that lack of time? How much more is the cause, are the causes, imperiled?

His human… guards? Yes, they were obviously guards. Even so they treated him with indifference. Strangely, this made the solid little, green furred, bat-faced form more comfortable, rather than less. Nothing on this world was better guaranteed to send an Indowy, even a brave one — and Rinteel was regarded among his people as preternaturally bold, into a panic as the sight of those bared carnivore fangs the locals used as a sign of pleasure.

Fortunately, the humans of the BND never smiled. Thus, the Indowy had only to deal with their single-mindedness, their barely suppressed innate violence. This was quite job enough.

In the presence of these barbarian carnivores, Rinteel could not even work out his frustrations with pacing. He could only wait patiently for the Chancellor to arrive.

In this out of the way Kaserne , home at different times to elite units ranging from German Schützstaffeln to American Special Forces, Hans Brasche looked skeptically over ranks of recently arrived, rabbit-frightened recruits shuffling forward in lines to be assigned to their quarters and their training units.

They look bigger and healthier than my generation did. But then I suppose they have eaten better than we did. No Depression for them, no lingering effects of the long British Blockade. The Wirtschaftwunder [13] Economic Miracle; the recovery of Germany after World War II did them well.

Yet their eyes seem watery, the complexions sallow. There is no toughness in them, no hardness. Too much fat. How are we to make bricks without straw?

Hans glanced away from his charges and looked around the Kaserne. The Americans kept the old home up well. It has not changed much, thought he. Not since I was here as a boy of twenty.

“Und so, you wish to become officers of the Waffen SS, do you?” demanded the harsh looking Oberscharfsführer of the stiffly standing ranks of Junkerschule [14] Officer Candidate School for the Waffen, or armed, SS. hopefuls.

I want nothing , thought Hans Brasche, carefully silent . Nothing except that my father not beat my mother for my failings that he attributes to her. He would have me here, not I. But for her sake, here I must be.

“To become worthy to lead the men of the SS,” continued the noncom, “you must become harder than Krupp’s steel, more pitiless than an iceberg, immovable like the mountains that surround us.” The NCO gestured grandly at the Bavarian Alps clutching at every side.

“There is no room in the SS for divided loyalties. So all among you who have not yet left the church stand forward.”

Hans, along with rather more than half his class, obediently stepped forward. From behind the Senior NCO marched forward a number of juniors — beefy men, every one of them.

Hans never saw the fist that laid him out.

That won’t work here, he thought, coming back to the present for a time. These kids hardly know of the concept of a God. Unless, perhaps, it resides between their girlfriends’ legs… or is to be seen on the television. They have no innocence… no naiveté. They have no symbols. They seem to have neither hope nor faith. Not in anything.

Bricks without straw.

Perhaps the general will have an answer. We have a few days yet.

“I have the answers you have sought, Herr Bundeskanzler ,” Rinteel said, simply.

Long, long had the Indowy waited. Long had he been forced to push away and conceal his terror at the near presence of so many vicious carnivores. When the chancellor had finally — in secret — arrived, the Indowy was filled with relief. Here , at least was one barbarian who did not completely tower over him. Though the white-haired “politician’s” smile was even more fearful than the blank stares of his guardians.

“What answers, Indowy Rinteel? What answers when I do not have even the questions?”

Rinteel forced his eyes to the chancellor’s face, no mean feat for one of his people. His face twisted into the mode, Honesty in Word and Deed, automatically, though he knew the human could not recognize or understand it.

“Then let me offer the questions, Herr Bundeskanzler . Why, when faced with an invasion nearly certain to exterminate your people, does your political opposition resist every attempt to improve your chances of survival? Why, when the Posleen will extinguish most of your world and pollute the rest with alien life forms, do those most concerned with maintaining the ecological purity of your world do all in their power to undermine your defenses? Why, when the coming enemy is so powerful, are even your military leaders — some of them — so slow to push the rearmament, so almost incredibly incompetent in its execution? Why do those most in love with the notion of state control of your economy, high taxes and centralized planning, resist using these very means to assist your people’s survival?”

The BND guards’ faces assumed a somber and even angry mien. To this the Indowy was immune. At least they are not baring those flesh-rending fangs.

“I have considered these things,” admitted the chancellor.

“Then consider these as answers,” said Rinteel, handing over a human-compatible computer disk. “And consider that you should trust no one. This disk contains less than all of the information. There is someone, perhaps close to you, whose words we could not decipher.”

“I understand,” said the chancellor, though in truth he did not, not fully.

“I hope you do,” Rinteel answered. “For, if you do not, you will have little time in which to do so.”

“And how long will you be here with us, Herr General ?”

Mühlenkampf answered, “A few days at most, this time. And I shall return from time to time. I am, of course, always available for consultation, should I be needed. I have been studying up on modern systems ever since I came out of rejuvenation.”

“Very good,” returned Prael. “And added to your vast combat experience, we expect to produce something quite remarkable. Would you like to meet the rest of the team?”