Origins: The Reich (23 page)

Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands.

Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island.

And this morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. As Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us.

No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.  I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us.

Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger.  With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph -- so help us God.

The Congress has declared that a state of war now exists between the United States and the Japanese empire.’

It occurred to
Gallono as his driver pulled the car up to the front door of the converted Egyptian elementary school building that this would be his first visit to a critically wounded ward.  While commanding his soldiers in North Africa he made it a point to visit the field hospitals as often as possible.  Having troops who would eventually rejoin the battlefield see their commanding officer take interest in their recovery was good for morale.

Visiting a critical ward though was generally a waste of time.  These men would never recover and would either die in the hospital, or be sent home.  It was the latter prospect that now brought Gallono to visit his General Staff Operations Officer. 

The colonel was injured in a chance-strafing run by a British fighter while driving between infantry divisions delivering orders.  The young man had no manner of luck at all, but Gallono was another matter.  Fate had delivered an opportunity to him and he did not intend to waste it.

Gallono entered the building and found himself overlooking a wide-open gymnasium with over a hundred occupied cots arranged in nice, orderly rows with men either unconscious from pain medications or barely awake and begging their nurses for more pain medications.  It was a devastatingly tragic scene that could reduce even the most stoic man to tears at the sight of such suffering.

“General Rommel, it is an honor to have you take time away from the front lines to visit us,” a doctor wearing a blood-soaked apron greeted him while running toward the front door.  He removed the soiled gloves from his hands and offered a salute.  Once Gallono returned the gesture, the good doctor continued.  “I must apologize.  Had I known you were coming I would have prepared a proper reception.”

“No need to apologize.  You have far more important work to do than wasting time prettying things up for me,” Gallono responded.

“Can I show you around?”

“Perhaps later, I am here on official business and need to speak with Colonel von Stauffenberg.  Can you please direct me to him?”

The doctor pointed down a long hallway leading away from the gymnasium.  “The colonel is in the third room on the right.  He’s conscious and by choice, is only lightly medicated for the considerable pain he must be in.”

“How soon until he’s sent back home?” Gallono asked.

“The next life flight to Berlin is not until early next week.  He should be stable enough to travel by then.”

“Thank you, Doctor, I’ll find my own way to his room and not take up any more of your valuable time.  Carry on.”

Gallono dismissed the doctor with one final salute and headed down the long, dimly lit hallway until he reached the third door on the right.  There he found a small classroom with children’s desks and chairs stacked in the corner to accommodate a medical bed and a stool set on rollers nearby.  In the bed, he saw a man with the entire left side of his face bandaged along with a stump where his right hand used to be.  His left hand was missing two fingers, but seemed almost an afterthought compared to the rest of him.  His head was turned toward the window, but a gentle knock on the door drew his attention.

“General, this is quite a surprise,” an unexpectedly cheery voice said in greeting.  He raised his right arm toward his brow in salute, but stopped mid movement when his brain processed that he no longer had a hand on that arm.  Puzzled, Colonel von Stauffenberg then looked to his left hand as a substitute, but gave up the endeavor when he saw the damage to that limb.  “I’m sorry, sir; I don’t quite know what to do anymore.”

“You go home to recover and then continue serving the Führer to the best of your ability,” Gallono answered in a mocking tone that drew surprise from Straffenberg’s lone eye.  To openly question, let alone poke fun at Hitler was a punishable offense if the Gestapo got wind of the deed.

“I suppose I can still be useful to the cause,” the colonel responded with an equally sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘cause’.  He lifted up his left hand and wiggled his remaining three fingers to say with a laugh.  “I never really knew what to do with so many fingers when I still had them all anyway.”

Gallono smiled at the jest, and at receiving a subtle confirmation that the colonel disliked Hitler and the Nazis as well; the rumors were true.  “I think we’re a lot alike you and I.  Do you mind if I join you for a while?”

A pleasant nod gave him leave to close the door behind him and take a seat next to the colonel’s bed.  “I must admit, I’m surprised to find you in such good cheer.  Is that the pain medication setting in, or are you just glad to be done with the fighting?”

“The pain is not nearly as bad as you might imagine.  Maybe I’m still in shock, or my mind knows enough to ignore those nerve endings right now.  Besides, the prospect of finally returning home to see Nina and the kids is enough to make any pain vanish.  Did you know it has been over three years since I last saw them?”

“That’s a long time,” Gallono confirmed, “How many children?”

“Four,” Stauffenberg said with both pride and regret.  “Four perfect little children whose youths I have missed because of Hitler’s wars.”

“I have a wife and son back home also,” Gallono reflected.  “We do it all for them, don’t we?  We soldiers spend a lifetime eating dirt, being shot at, and inflicting death upon the enemy and our own men so that our children may know a better Germany than the downtrodden nation we suffered during our youth.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Stauffenberg added.  “I cheered along with the rest of Germany when Austria and the Czechs joined the Reich without a shot fired.  I was proud to serve in the Summer Campaign as we took over Poland, since the territory belonged to Germany before the Great War.  It was ours by right, and we took it back.”

“I even favored the invasion of France, despite the high casualty estimates.  The French declared war on Germany for taking back what was ours,” Stauffenberg said, laughing as he continued.  “I was posted to Central Command during that invasion.  I’ll never forget the chaos you and your Ghost Division caused, not only to the enemy, but also to our leaders.  The Führer was nervous and worried incessantly about the south flank.  He must have raged and screamed half a dozen times every day that you had the entire campaign on the way to ruin by moving so fast.”

“In all honesty, at times I felt the same anxiety but by then I had no choice.  I’d already disobeyed orders.  I therefore needed to prove my defiance correct or face a firing squad.  I chose the former and I believe Germany was made the better for it,” Gallono said with a restrained level of pride.

“Circumventing the Maginot Line and conquering all of France in just over a month with so few losses?  That was brilliance, pure and simple,” the colonel had more to say, but stopped short for some reason.

“What’s on your mind, Colonel?”

Stauffenberg took a long moment looking at his deformed left hand and seemed to find a measure of comfort in the wound.  He drew a deep breath and looked Gallono square in the eyes with determination.  “Would you indulge a wounded soldier for a moment and answer a terribly imprudent question that has been on my mind for two years now?”

Gallono stiffened his posture at the question, but extended an inviting palm.  “I think you’ve earned it.”

“You proved yourself the most brilliant strategist and battlefield tactician Germany has to offer and yet you were not given a command for Operation Barbarossa.  Why?  Moscow would be ours right now; instead the Slavs pushed us back to Poland, managed to encircle the 6th Army, and captured a quarter of a million men.”

Gallono played as though he were reluctant to give an answer, but gave in.  “I’m afraid during an initial planning meeting I was far too aggressive with the Führer for my own good.  I dared question the wisdom of attacking the Soviet Union with Britain not yet conquered and a rising threat from the allies in North Africa.  I was sent here to ‘alleviate’ my concerns while Barbarossa went on without me.”

“That is my story.  Now tell me, what’s yours?” Gallono asked.  “How does an officer with a noble bloodline and distinguished service record during the Soviet invasion get banished to the sands of North Africa in the middle of that campaign?”

Colonel Stauffenberg paused to choose his next words very carefully, “I too was a little more verbose with my unpopular opinions than what was wise for my career.  In Poland and the Ukraine, I saw things.  Things I didn’t agree with, and I let my superior and fellow officers serving in the General Staff Headquarters know it.”

“What did you see, Colonel?”

“Since the Soviets did not sign the Geneva Conventions in 1929, our officers ordered them to be treated most harshly.”

“The Hunger Plan?” Gallono asked, seeking confirmation that the ordered starvation of Soviet prisoners was what offended Stauffenberg’s sense of morality.

Seeing that discussing the matter would not disclose any state secrets since Gallono was already aware, the colonel continued without reservation.  “It was more than that; it wasn’t just a lack of nourishment.  Our soldiers carried out mass executions of Russian and Ukrainian soldiers along with innocent civilians.  Men, women, young or old, even children; it didn’t matter.  They were executed by the thousands, and my Catholic upbringing couldn’t stand for it.  I had to speak out.”

“What about the Jews?” Gallono asked.  “I’ve heard rumors for months that the Jews moved out of Germany and other territories are being forced into labor camps in Poland and other locations out east.”

Upon mention of the topic, Stauffenberg averted his lone eye, unable to look at Gallono while delivering his reply.  “Based on what I saw, I believe the rumors are true.  My division passed near Auschwitz, Poland where a camp is located.  We saw hideous figures that looked like living skeletons laboring in the fields behind tall fences topped with razor wire and ringed by guard towers.”

“In the distance I saw dark, black plumes of smoke rising out of two buildings.  That smoke carried with it the unmistakable stench of charred human flesh; a smell I’ve gotten all too familiar with in recent years.  To generate that much smoke, they must have been incinerating bodies by the hundreds.”

“My God,” Gallono sighed.  Hastelloy had made him aware of the reports, but to hear it described so vividly by an eyewitness was bone chilling.  He paused for a moment until he found the will to press on with his agenda.  “What if the advancing Red Army comes upon one of these camps or a mass grave filled with their own soldiers and civilians?  They, and the rest of the world, will show no mercy on any of us if Germany falls.”

Colonel Stauffenberg’s eye looked around the room as if in search for answers.  “We both know that day is coming now that we have lost the war in the east, and the Americans and English are gearing up in the west.  Something has to happen to show the world that we Germans are not all Nazis like Hitler or Goebbels.  For Christ’s sake, we’re officers who command millions of men in the army.  There must be something we, of all people, can do to save Germany from these madmen.”

“An open rebellion within the army would never work.  Too many are loyal to the civilian government, and besides, they have their own militant arm in the SS.  It would spark a civil war that would tear Germany to shreds and leave it wide open for the Soviets or whomever to eviscerate our beloved nation,” Gallono said, his voice quiet.  “What if there was a better way?  A cleaner way to dethrone Hitler and wash away the Nazi party from government without a shot fired.”

“I’d say you are the one on medication instead of me,” Stauffenberg said half joking.  “It could never be done in so clean a manner.”

“There is a way,” Gallono countered without a hint of levity in his demeanor.  “Hitler’s paranoia may have gotten the better of him by signing an order for the Territorial Reserve Army to assume his authority if communication between Hitler and the High Command were ever severed.  It passes command of Germany over to the Reserve Army.  Not the SS, Gestapo, or the SD, power passes to the Reserve Army.”

“Operating Valkyrie,” Colonel Stauffenberg said, confirming he was familiar with the finer details of Hitler’s government continuity plan.  “It was put in place in case the allied bombings or internal uprising ever cut off Hitler’s ability to communicate with the High Command.”

“If Hitler died in an assassination blamed on the SS, that would certainly qualify as a breakdown in Hitler’s ability to communicate with High Command don’t you think?” Gallono explained.  “In that event, Valkyrie would triggered, and the Reserve Army would effectively be tricked into removing the civilian government from power under the false pretense that the SS had attempted a coup d’état.”

“The beauty of it is the rank-and-file soldiers and junior officers in the Reserve Army would be motivated to take charge based upon their false belief that it was the Nazi civilian leadership who had behaved with disloyalty and treason against the state.  They would then be required to remove them from power by order of their fallen Führer.”

“It all depends on soldiers of the Reserve Army obeying their orders so long as they came from the legitimate channel.”

“Which is either the commander of the Reserve Army or Adolf Hitler himself,” Stauffenberg interrupted.  “In your scenario Hitler will be dead, leaving General Fromm to give the order, a man Hitler handpicked from his trusted circle.  Somehow I doubt he will be willing to participate in this hypothetical venture of yours.”