W. IV - Honor Bound 05 - The Honor of Spies

"My God!"

"I told him things were going along according to plan, and he gave me a look that made me think he knew about the Froggers, et cetera. But then he said, 'I'm going to send for Canaris. He's reliable, he knows Argentina, and I don't think he's playing an active enough role in Operation Phoenix.'"

Canaris did not respond.

"And then he left. I thought I should tell you before you go in there. We're going to have to be very careful, Canaris."

"I understand. Thank you."

"You better get in there. I know he's waiting for you."

Canaris nodded, then walked to the door and pulled it open.

"Shall I announce you, Herr Admiral?" the hauptsturmfuhrer at the door of what Canaris thought of as "the map room" asked.

"That won't be necessary. The Fuhrer sent for me."

The hauptsturmfuhrer pulled open the door. Canaris, with von und zu Waching and Gehlen on his heels, walked in.

Adolf Hitler--surprising Canaris not at all--was bent over a large, map-covered table. He was wearing rather ugly eyeglasses. His military staff, headed by Generalfeldmarschall Wilhelm Keitel, plus all the people Canaris expected to be there, including Himmler and Goebbels, were standing in a rough half-circle at the table. Behind them, against the wall, were lesser lights, among them Generalleutnant von Wachtstein and Luftwaffe General Kurt Student.

Canaris had expected to see von Wachtstein, but he wondered what Student was doing here; an advocate of "vertical envelopment," Student had lost favor with Hitler after his Fallschirmjager troops not only hadn't easily captured Crete when they had parachuted onto it, but had suffered severe casualties.

The only ones who acknowledged Canaris, and that with a just-perceptible nod, were Keitel and Grand Admiral Karl Donitz, the commander in chief of the navy. The others looked at him as if they had never seen him before.

After perhaps thirty seconds, Hitler looked up at Canaris, who rendered another sloppy salute and said, "My Fuhrer."

Von und zu Waching and Gehlen stood to attention.

Hitler pointed at Gehlen.

"Who is this officer?"

"Oberstleutnant Gehlen, Reinhard, my Fuhrer," Canaris said. "The senior intelligence officer of the OKH."

"And the oberstleutnant is here why?"

"I thought you might wish to receive him, my Fuhrer. He returned from Russia only last night."

Hitler started to walk around the table.

"Very thoughtful of you, Admiral," he said. "But unnecessary. Bad news travels very fast. I have already learned of the daily disaster there. And the daily disaster here in Germany."

He was now standing in front of Gehlen.

"Colonel, how good of you to come," he said, putting out his hand and oozing charm. "I am always delighted to meet a fighting soldier; one doesn't see many of them around here."

He patted Gehlen's arm, then turned to Canaris.

"What I hoped the admiral could tell me is the present location of Benito Mussolini. But before we get into that, I want to hear the admiral's sage evaluation of the death of General Jeschonnek."

"My Fuhrer, I was very saddened to hear of General Jeschonnek's death."

"I asked, Admiral, for your evaluation of the effect of his death on Germany, not its effect on you."

Canaris suddenly realized that Hermann Goring, head of the Luftwaffe, was not in the room.

I should have seen that sooner.

"My Fuhrer, as I understand the situation--and I don't know much; it only happened last midnight--General Jeschonnek took his life because he was in a state of depression and temporarily bereft of his senses. Apparently he felt that he had failed--the Luftwaffe had failed--to adequately protect Germany from Allied air raids."

"As it has," Hitler said. "But this 'failure,' as you so delicately put it, has not caused Reichsmarschall Goring to become depressed--to blow his brains out--and I would say, Admiral, wouldn't you, that the reichsmarschall is at least as responsible for the Luftwaffe's failure as was General Jeschonnek?"

"My Fuhrer, I don't pretend to understand suicide. My feeling is that men have different breaking points. I can suggest only that General Jeschonnek reached his when he realized what had happened."

"Germany cannot afford to have its generals blowing their brains out every time they suffer a temporary setback," Hitler said bitterly.

Hitler glared at him for a long moment, during which Canaris had decided it was his time to be on the receiving end of one of Hitler's tyrannical rages.

"Dr. Goebbels suggests that we report that General Jeschonnek met his end, quote, test-flying a new fighter plane, end quote," Hitler said, "and that he be buried, with all the attendant publicity, with full military honors. I have mixed feelings. I wonder if Jeschonnek didn't take the coward's way out."

He looked at Canaris, waiting for him to reply.

"My Fuhrer, I am wholly unqualified to offer an opinion about anything Dr. Goebbels says vis-a-vis a delicate situation like this one."

Hitler stared at him with icy eyes.

Here it comes. I am about to be dressed down by the Austrian corporal in front of the leadership--less Goring, of course--of the Thousand-Year Reich.

It didn't.

"Where, in your opinion, Admiral, is Benito Mussolini?" Hitler asked.

My God, where did that question come from?

On 25 July, Italian king Victor Emmanuel had stripped Italian fascist dictator Benito Mussolini of his power and arrested him. Nine days later, a representative of Marshal Badoglio, who had replaced Mussolini, secretly surrendered Italy unconditionally to a representative of General Dwight D. Eisenhower, the Supreme Allied Commander. The surrender would not be made public for weeks, on 8 September 1943.

"On the island of Ponza, my Fuhrer."

"Where?"

"On the island of Ponza, my Fuhrer," Canaris repeated. He pointed at the map-strewn table. "May I?"

"Please do," Hitler said.

Canaris went to the table, found the map he needed, and pointed his index finger at a cluster of islands in the Tyrrhenian Sea off the west coast of Italy.

"On Ponza, the larger island, my Fuhrer," Canaris said.

"Himmler, would you take a look at this, please?" Hitler asked.

Heinrich Himmler walked quickly to the table.

"That is where Admiral Canaris tells me Mussolini is," Hitler said. "It is not where you told me he is. I wonder which of you is right."

Himmler said firmly: "Captain Skorzeny reported within the last forty-eight hours, my Fuhrer, that Il Duce is being held in the Campo Imperatore Hotel in Abruzzi, in the Apennine Mountains."

"Admiral?" Hitler asked very softly.

"I have a man in the Italian marines who are guarding Il Duce, my Fuhrer," Canaris said. "In his daily report--as of four this morning, Mussolini is on Ponza."

"Your man sends you a daily report on Il Duce's whereabouts?" Hitler asked.

"Yes, my Fuhrer. He has previously reported that Mussolini will be taken--as soon as safe travel can be arranged--to the Campo Imperatore Hotel."

"Tell the admiral, Himmler, who Hauptmann Skorzeny is," Hitler said softly.

"SS-Hauptmann Otto Skorzeny is something of a legend within the Waffen-SS, Canaris. I assigned him--as the best man for the job available to me--to track Il Duce when the Italians betrayed us and Mussolini was arrested. I can't believe he made a mistake like this."

"I can," Hitler said. "Which leaves us with something of an administrative problem." He fixed his eyes on Canaris. "You will learn, Admiral, if you already haven't, that the reward for someone who doesn't make mistakes is that other onerous chores are soon added to what chores he is already bearing by those who do make mistakes."

Canaris thought: Someone like yourself, you mean? Who is incapable of making a mistake, and is thus doomed to correct the errors of others?