Three Kings (Kirov Series) (18 page)

“We are not in a position to
attack Crete at the moment.”

“That will change soon enough.
We’ll finish up in Greece in another month, and from there we can make the jump
easily with Student’s 7th Flieger Division and the 22nd Luftland Air Landing
Division. Throw in a mountain regiment by sea and that should be all it takes
to do the job.”

“Yes, yes, I have seen the plans,
but we must look at the bigger picture,
Halder
. We’ve
sent Rommel to Africa with the 5th Light Division, and I have plans to send him
at least two more divisions, five if we can find the shipping. How do you
propose that we keep them supplied?”

“You’ve been talking to Raeder?”

Keitel gave him a disparaging
look. “What has that to do with anything? I am well aware of his views
concerning the Mediterranean strategy, but at the moment this is purely a
consideration of logistics—a matter for the army. If we put men in the deserts
of Libya and Egypt, then they will have to be supplied. We have one good port
at the moment—Tripoli—and Malta sits right astride the sea lanes we must use to
get there.”

“Rommel had no trouble landing
his troops,”
Halder
put in.

“That is because the British have
yet to build up their air defenses on Malta, but you know they will, particularly
if we do begin a stronger buildup of forces in North Africa.”

Halder
folded his arms, not entirely convinced that Rommel should even be there. “You
are aware of the Führer’s plans regarding Operation Barbarossa?”

“Of course I am, but that is six
months off—perhaps even a year if I can talk some sense into the man. For my
part, I believe we would be foolish to attack Russia anytime soon, if at all.”

“You forget the oil, Keitel.
Volkov has plenty, but we need a way to get our hands on it. The fields of Ploesti
in Romania will only take us so far—and that is another reason we should take
Crete. If we leave it to the British they will build up defenses there as well,
and from Crete their bombers can reach Ploesti. Yet, if we have that island, we
can use it to bomb Alexandria.”

“Volkov?” Keitel darkened at the
mention of the man’s name. “Yes, Ivan Volkov, always whispering in the Fuhrer’s
ear with those intelligence messages he keeps sending us. If he were not
correct so often I would just as soon choke the man. There is something about
him that I do not trust.”

Both
Halder
and Keitel had met the man in a brief session in 1939 just before the war. It
was there that Volkov had asserted Germany would easily defeat the British and
French in France, and it had happened almost exactly as he said it would. He
had warned the Germans that the British would try to intervene in Norway,
picking the exact time and place, and he had been correct again. His latest
whispers had been warnings to the French concerning the British plans to attack
their fleet at Mers-el-Kebir. That intelligence had enabled Admiral Gensoul to
put to sea just before the British fleet sortied from Gibraltar. And he had
also warned about Operation Menace aimed at Dakar, and the recently concluded Operation
Compass.

“Well,” said Keitel. “Now that
you mention Volkov, I suppose you are aware of the information he has sent us
on this very question.” He reached into his uniform coat pocket and produced a
folded paper.

“Listen to this,” he said
quietly, “the latest intelligence briefing from the man they call the Prophet.
“It is quite startling, all things considered.” He looked up at
Halder
, a glint in his eye, like a man who was about to
spring a well laid trap. “Tell me, Keitel. Does he agree with your assessment?”

 “That and more,” said
Keitel. He has gone so far as to make a specific request that we do exactly
what I now propose.” He read from the paper now, eyes alight: “Take Malta no
later than the spring of 1941. If you fail to do so your operations in North
Africa will be doomed to failure. To facilitate this. I will personally make a
request to Hitler that any operation against Soviet Russia is held in abeyance
on the precondition that Malta first falls under German control, and you have
had time to build up a strong force in North Africa and to consider other
measures aimed at the Middle East.” He looked up at
Halder
now, smiling. “That is quite an endorsement of my plan.”

“He wants to postpone the
invasion of Soviet Russia?”
Halder
was very surprised.
“I find that hard to believe.”

“That is because he wants to put
his house in order before we deal with Sergei Kirov. He has trouble with the
Siberians.”

“Karpov? I thought that had been
settled at Omsk.”

“Apparently not, as we have seen.
Volkov launched his eastern offensive right after those talks, so they must
have failed to reach an accord, in spite of the news we received earlier.”
Keitel folded the briefing paper and quietly tucked it away in his pocket.

“Interesting…” said
Halder
. “Now Sergei Kirov has taken advantage of the
situation by attacking across the Don into the Caucasus.” He tapped the map
with a pencil as he spoke. “The oil, Keitel. That is what these operations are
all about.”

“Agreed,” said Keitel. “So Volkov
now has a major offensive to deal with on his southern flank, while he
squabbles with this Vladimir Karpov and his Siberians in the east.”

“Where did this man come from?”
said
Halder
, voicing the same question in Keitel’s
mind. He was a mysterious figure that had arisen in the far east, and though he
did not know why, Keitel had a strange feeling of presentiment about the man.

Chapter 15

“This
Karpov seems to have
appeared out of thin air. We have little intelligence on him. He certainly was
not involved in the early revolution. I have made inquiries and, in spite of
some considerable effort to learn more, we have found nothing substantial on
the man. In fact, we have found nothing much at all—no birth records, no
service history. It is as if the man simply fell from the sky or grew up like a
mushroom after a good rain storm.”

“No doubt there are quite a few
others like him over there,” said Keitel, “but we must not concern ourselves
with that at the moment. Let the Russians have their squabble. We have our own
fish to fry here, and the war is heading to the Mediterranean now. If our drive
into the Balkans concludes soon, then we will be right on Turkey’s doorstep at
the Bosporus. That leaves only the old remnant of the Ottoman Empire between us
and all that oil in the Caucasus. Hitler will soon have an interesting choice
to make, and he will want us to do all the planning. From Greece and Bulgaria
we can easily stage an operation against Turkey. Such a plan would take us
right to the oil we need and come to Volkov’s assistance in the Caucasus at the
same time. In fact, I intend to advise the Führer that we do exactly this. If
he must attack Soviet Russia, then he should do so on the southern flank, with
the principle effort striking through Moldavia into the Ukraine, and right into
the Crimea! That is the shortest route to a link up with Volkov’s forces.
Attacking in the north with any intention of driving on Moscow or Leningrad
will be foolish.”

“In this we find agreement,” said
Halder
. “This must be our principle operation of the war.
If we do make such a move it will encircle the British in the Middle East. Once
we have Turkey, then we can move right in to secure Iran and Iraq to link up
with the Vichy French in Syria. That takes us right to the doorstep of the Suez
from the east.”

“True,” said Keitel. “The eastern
offensive is an essential part of our overall war aims. That said, the attack
against Russia should be limited to this southern axis, and not aimed at Moscow
or Leningrad. Yet that will not be possible for six months to a year. In the
meantime what do we do, sit on our duff and twiddle our thumbs? Do we wait for
Mussolini to make another bungling attack somewhere for us to rescue him as we
have in North Africa and Greece?”

Halder
took a long breath, his eyes on the map again. He knew in his gut that Keitel
was correct. Malta should be taken—Crete as well. And he knew that unless they
decided on one course or another, the matter would eventually end up in
Hitler’s lap. Once there, the General Staff might lose control. If Hitler
decided on some cockamamie strategy, they would be forced to take the war in
that direction, even if it led them into a thicket. Yet, if they decided things
now… If they presented a united front to Hitler and kept a firm hand on the
tiller, then they might very well end this war in another long year.

“You are aware of Mussolini’s
views regarding Malta,” he said, coming back to the matter of their discussion.
“He believes his air force can finish the British with no intervention by
ground troops.”

“That is a self-serving opinion,”
said Keitel. “The man has no assault shipping worth mentioning, and no real
trained paratroopers to do the job. Look,
Halder
. We
cannot expect the Italians to do anything in this war. We had to bail them out
of trouble in Greece, and now North Africa. Look what happened to them in
Somalia! That said, we have already committed troops to the desert, the western
approach to Suez. You have approved the schedule of divisions for that
operation, and we have the Führer’s approval as well. If we do this, then we
must
have Malta.” Keitel laid his finger heavily on the map, fingering the tiny
island. “We simply must have it, and we should take it now. There is no more
than a single Brigade there, and local militias. This message we have received
of late from Ivan Volkov has given us the entire British order of battle there,
right down to battalion level, and it urges us to do exactly as I now
advise—take Malta. We must decide this,
Halder
.
Crete? Yes, in good time. But insofar as Malta is concerned, the time is now.
It will be a perfect preliminary operation for Student, and the lessons learned
will aid us in the planning for your operation against Crete.”

“The Italians already have such a
plan,” said
Halder
. “They are calling it Operation C3.”

“Yes? Well if we leave things to
them you know how they’ll turn out. No. This must be a German plan, and an
operation principally undertaken by German forces.”

“We will need the Führer’s approval,
and he will need to speak with Mussolini first. Then we must do the staff
work.”

“I have already done that,” said
Keitel quickly.

“You, Keitel? You mean to say
this is why you have been locked up in the back rooms of OKW with
Jodl
and Raeder?”

“Correct,” said Keitel. “So there
you have it. I have been talking to Raeder, and now that we have Gibraltar,
with two good battleships at Brest and Saint Nazaire, Raeder has been keen to
put them to good use.”

“Whatever for? Is he planning
another sortie into the Atlantic? Those battleships are a nuisance, Keitel.
They had a little luck with that convoy when they broke out, but mark my
words—it will be Doenitz and his U-boats that will make the difference in the
Atlantic.”

“But
Hindenburg
and
Bismarck
would make quite a difference in the Mediterranean…” Keitel let that dangle for
a moment, and
Halder
gave it some considerable
thought before he spoke.

“Raeder wants to do this?”

“He does, and he is of the
opinion that we can now decide the issue of naval supremacy in the
Mediterranean once and for all. The front door is shut tight and barricaded at
Gibraltar. Now the British have to sail 12,000 miles around the Cape of Good
Hope to reinforce their Eastern Mediterranean squadrons under Admiral
Cunningham. So I discussed this with Raeder in light of this Malta business. He
believes that, with the French Fleet at Toulon, the Italians at Taranto, and a
little backbone with the arrival of
Hindenburg
and
Bismarck
, we
will have what it takes to neutralize the one foil the British still have—the
Royal Navy. If he leaves those ships in the French Atlantic ports the British
will be bombing them night and day. They attacked again last night.”

Halder
pursed his lips, his eyes narrowed with thought. “
Jodl
agrees?”

“He does, and Goering has agreed
to provide us with any aircraft we need for the operation. Student’s
Fleigerkorps
has just been formed and it is operational
now. He is eager for an assignment, and Malta is the perfect choice. Malta now,
Halder
, with Raeder’s battleships to make certain the
Royal Navy does not pay us a visit once we get there. Malta now—Crete later,
after we finish in the Balkans and move the main army south along the Moldavian
frontier. Once that is accomplished, then the final operation of the war begins,
as we have discussed. And if we move decisively, we can finish the job before
President Roosevelt and the Americans start thinking more seriously about
intervention.”

Halder
nodded. He could see that Keitel was correct. It was all a question of proper
timing, and this next six months were a vacuum that must be filled with
something that mattered. He looked at Keitel, placing his cap firmly on his
head. “Very well,” he said with equal firmness. “You have my support.”

* * *

At
the end of 1940 Malta was
not the hard nut that it would later become by 1942. There was only a single
brigade there, with plans to double this in size that had not yet been carried
out. Another long time British holding like Gibraltar, it was the former
headquarters of the Royal Navy Mediterranean Fleet, which had since been moved
to Alexandria. Yet even if it was no longer the vital hub of the wheel of
British sea power there, it was still a strong outpost at the edge of that
power base, and the one means they had of projecting land based air power into
the Central Mediterranean. Unfortunately, there were all too few planes there
as 1940 ended. Measuring only eleven miles by nine, there simply wasn’t room to
put very much in the way of men and material on the tiny island. Before the war
the British had come to believe the island was indefensible. That said, its
principle function as an “unsinkable aircraft carrier” was well known, but ill
served at the moment.