Hitler's gamble - An alternative German Strategy

- Ah, Martin, good to see you. Please, sit down! - The editor greeted Martin in his office.

- Thank you, sir. What do I owe the pleasure of being summoned?

- You probably heard about the unrest in Spain, didn't you? Well, the situation has reached the boiling point yesterday, and civil war has erupted. I'm sending you to Burgos to be a representative of the Völkischer Beobachter. Your task will be to send reports on the latest events every now and then, and if you can, an interview or two with some of the more prominent figures in the new government would be nice. You will be able to reach us via a telephone line provided by the Ministry of Propaganda. You can find the details of your travel on your desk.

- But sir... - gasped Martin.

- What, you are still here? I'm a busy man, make it quick!

- Yes, sir, I was only wondering, if... - babbled the young reporter - You know... Couldn't you send someone else? I mean isn't this dangerous?

- Of course it is dangerous, it is a bloody war! And no, I can't send someone else. Remember that man from the Ministry of Propaganda three months ago? He said that you will have a chance to prove yourself. Here's your chance. Now get out of my office and get to work!

- Yes, sir... - Martin felt destroyed as he left the office.



- Sir! I request permission to speak, sir! - Wilhelm was standing in the office of Major General Grün.

- At ease. Permission granted, what do you want?

- Sir! I want to volunteer for the Condor Legion, sir!

- You do? You are a lucky man, you know that, don't you? You were too young during the Great War. And now you are way too eager to get into a fight. Tell me, why do you want to go?

- To serve my country, sir!

- Serve your country? By fighting the wars of others, in a different country at the end of the continent? How would that serve your country?

- With all due respect, sir, I believe that getting combat experience would be beneficial for my carrier, sir. By fighting in a real war, if I come back, I would be more able to lead my men in case Germany gets into a war himself.

- 'If'? Didn't you mean 'when'?

- No, sir. Soldiers die in war, I have no illusions about that.

- And don't you think the Fatherland could use your services better as a living soldier here with no experience than a dead one somewhere else with some experience?

- If I were to die in battle, that could just as easily happen here, while defending the Fatherland. By learning the ways of war first hand in a war not directly concerning my homeland, it would be less of a risk. Should I fail, there will be no harm done here Should I win, that will surely give courage to our people. There's nothing to lose, but everything to gain.

- Well, Lieutenant von Walsrode, I believe those Spaniards could use a lot more men like you. Dismissed.

- Thank you, sir!



It was a cold evening in Munich. Clear and cold. Martin Lederer was standing in a phone booth, speaking with Hans Grübermann.

- Where are you going? - Hans couldn't believe his ears.

- Spain. - Martin's voice was getting weaker.

- What?! Why are you going to Spain?! There's a war there! You'll get yourself killed!

- I know! I mean, no, I won't get myself killed. Or at least I don't intend to... You know how things are... Sometimes things don't turn out as you plan, but...

- Then don't go! Why do you want to go in the first place?!

- Because my editor told me to.

- You are smarter than to go into your death because some stupid editor told you to... If I told you to...

- Alright, that's not the only reason. Do you remember when we met in January? You asked if I really worked for Goebbels, and I told you not yet.

- No, I don't really remember you saying that... I thought you worked for a newspaper...

- Yes, I work for a newspaper and yes, I told you I'm not yet working for Goebbels. But there's this man from the Ministry of Propaganda. I met him in the office of my editor. He told me that they were observing my works, and that I may be a nice addition to the Ministry if I were to prove myself.

- And does this have anything to do with a war in Spain?

- It has everything to do with a war in Spain! My editor told me that this was my chance to prove myself. I must go to Spain.

- To get yourself killed. You will be a great martyr, Martin...

- No, I won't get myself killed! Please, have a little faith in me, will you? Come on! How stupid do you think I am?

- I don't think you are stupid, but in wars people tend to die, you know. Horribly.

- Look, it's not up to debate. I will go. Period. The plane I'll go with is departing in twenty minutes. I'm only asking you to tell the others that I won't be back for some time. But I'll keep in touch through the newspaper reports I'll be sending back! So you will all know I'm still alive!

- Alright... But why don't you tell them yourself?

- I don't know... - Actually, he knew exactly why. They would have convinced him not to go. Erhard may even try to convince him to go, but fight for the Republicans... That poor bastard will get himself into some really big trouble someday...

- And please, keep an eye on Erhard!

- Alright, I will. But you keep an eye on yourself!

- Okay. Now I have to go! Farewell!

- Farewell! And good luck... - Hans put down the telephone, and almost forgot to get back to his appartment.



Hans and Joachim were sitting silently in the dining room of Hans' apartment when Erhard arrived. He had the latest edition of the Völkischer Beobachter in his hand. As usual. And he was pissed about it. As usual.

- Did you read Martin's latest article? About those showcase trials in Berlin? Of some thirty so called spies from different countries, and their public hanging? Where do we live?! I mean, come on, public hanging? Is this the Medieval Age or what? And some of these countries are on the other side of the globe. What would a Bhutanese spy doing in Germany? Get real... Where did he get this bullshit? What?...

- Martin is gone.

- What do you mean gone? Where?

- Spain.

- What is he doing in Spain?

- Reporting on the civil war there.

- WHAT?! And you let him go?!

- It wasn't me, it was Hans...

- Wait, that's not fair! What should I have done? Strap him into a chair or something? And he didn't even come here to tell me the news, he called the janitor of the house and he called me to the phone. There was nothing I could do...

- And when will he come back?

- I don't know. I guess when the war is over. But I have no idea how long that will take... - said Joachim, turning his head away from Erhard so he can't see his face...


Index

- I honestly don't understand. It has been almost two months since the war in Spain ended, still no word from Martin. - Joachim was standing out on the balcony of the townshall building with Hans and Erhard. Herr Gross, Erhard's old literature teacher had some connections in the local council and managed to get the council chamber of the mayor for this class-reunion. Erhard's class was always his favourite (although not Erhard specifically, as he hated literature almost as much as geometry), and he took it to his heart to get the best possible location for this first meeting of his pupils after four long years. A lot of things happened in those four years.

- But we called his editor, and he told us that Martin is already on his way - Hans was trying to calm Joachim, but maybe even more, himself. - Spain is a long way from here.

- But not that long! - said Erhard, mimicking Hans' accentuation - He could have come home on foot by now. Something must have happened... For example, they tried to get home through France, and they got arrested. The French got pretty annoyed when our army entered the Rheinland in full force back in April...

- That would have caused an international incident. Arresting a German reporter? Do you think Herr Führer would have kept such a thing to himself? And even if something did happen, we couldn't do anything anyway. And that's what makes me so angry! This helplessness!

- Or maybe somehow they linked him to that illegal newspaper business in April.


- I don't think so. All three involved had a public trial, so we would have known. And he still wrote articles for the Völkischer Beobachter up until the Republican victory in October, and those agitators were executed in May. Although the articles started to get smaller and smaller since May, when the Condor Legion was recalled.

- Now that you mention it - said Erhard, scratching his head - the articles started to be less like him after May... Less informed, less direct, more propaganda oriented... I usually don't like what Martin has to say, but at least he believes in what he says. His work could be briliant, if only he was writing the right things. Those articles felt more... Fabricated. But then why was he sent there in the first place?

- Propaganda needs some basis. I believe he was sent to Spain to provide that basis, even if the details were distorted to fit state policies better. We can assume that by May, the articles were probably written by somebody else.

- But who? - asked Hans in shock.

- That's not the point - said Erhard - the point is that it was not Martin anymore. Maybe they didn't even come from Spain. If the Condor Legion returned, then who would have remained behind to send the reports?

- Definitely not Martin. He may be almost as passionate as you, Erhard, but not as stupid. He won't fight a losing fight unless he believes in it.

- Exactly! Wait... Hey!

- Still, all we know is that he didn't write the articles after May, but he didn't return with our volunteers either. - summed up Hans - But then where is he? Maybe he died and they didn't want to tell us, and they replaced him with someone else using his name instead!

- I don't think so. What would be the point? He wasn't that famous... I think he did survive, and continued to send the reports, but maybe less frequently or they were less detailed. Still, we know practically nothing, and we couldn't do anything, even if we did.

- Well, then we should go home.



Hans and Joachim were talking on their way home, mostly about the recent completeion of the new industrial district of Dortmund and Kassel.

- And aside from that huge investment in Kassel, the Luftwaffe also started improving their air base near the city. I was offered a new job on that construction, but I turned it down.

- Fascinating, Joachim.

- And can you guess what these new factories will produce?

- Rubber ducks maybe?

- No. Steel for passenger ships!

- Fascinating, Joachim.

- And... Did you leave the lights on when we left?

- No... Someone is there! Up in my appartment! Oh no, what should we do?

- Go up there and check it out.

- I'm not sure if we should...

- Why, do you have anything urgent to do? We were going home anyway. Come on!

They entered the building and went up to the second floor, and found the door closed. Hans reached for his keys and gave them to Joachim:

- You open it!

Joachim slowly opened the door (while Hans got behind him), and entered the hallway. He got hold of a sturdy looking umbrealla, while slowly, sneaking towards the kitchen door. After a second of hesitation, he quickly forced the door open while holding the umbrella up ready to strike down the interloper only to find Martin sitting at the dining table over a can of beans.

- Martin?! - cried out Joachim.

- Oh, hi! I didn't mean to startle you. - said Martin defensively holding up his hands and droping his fork - I didn't hear you come in! Why are you sneaking in Hans' appartment?

- Martin! Where the hell have you been? Are you alright? - Hans was forcing himself into the kitchen past the surprised Joachim still standing in the door. - How did you get in?

- One question at a time, alright? The janitor let me in. But he didn't really trust me that much, so he locked the door on me when he left.

- And he wasn't too far from the truth - said Joachim, pointing at the can of beans with the umbrella.

- Oh, that? I hope you don't mind. But I was starving! I didn't have anything to eat since Zürich.

- Zürich? But that's in Switzerland! What were you doing there?

- Hans means he doesn't mind. But his point is valid. How did you get to Switzerland?

- Don't you want me to start at the beginning instead? It will be very complicated if I start from the end and go backwards! Jokes are not the same if you start with the punch line, you know... Or I could even jump back and forth in time, if you want more excitement!

- No, starting from the beginning will be just fine. - said Joachim, while sitting down along with Hans.

- Well - started Martin - last time we spoke was in March, when I left for Spain. I went there to report on the civil war for my newspaper. I was scared, obviously, but actually everything went just fine for the first two months. The situation was rather hectic, but I was far behind the front lines. Those front lines weren't exactly solid ones, but I was still out of harm's way.


- Anyway, the war started out pretty well for the Falangists (except for those poor souls in Southern Spain, cut off from reinforcements and supplies), with their forces mostly concentrated, while the government had their troops scattered all over the country. This initial chaos was almost enough to take Madrid, although then the whole conflict would have ended before it even started, and where's the drama in that?... But that was not to happen. You probably remember my briliant articles about these months of valiant fighting near Madrid and La Coruna, how the army was repelled time after time and held from taking the capital, and how the courageous defenders of La Coruna managed to hold the port in the north in turn.


- Then in May, things got worse. While the loyalist troops in the South were completely enihilated and the Condor Legion retreated to La Coruna, General Franco Bahamonde started a bold maneuver to encircle Madrid.

- Wait! What was that? - The monologue was interrupted by Hans. He was almost mesmerized by Martin's well-crafted story, but at this point, he got confused.

- General Franco Bahamonde - repeated Martin slowly - started a bold maneuver to encircle Madrid. You know, that Spanish guy with the stupid mustache...

- Not that part! Before that, about the Condor Legion!

- Our brave soldiers? They retreated to La Coruna in May.

- No. They returned home, after cutting off Barcelona and Bilbao from the government, Hitler decided that they have done enough, and if the Spanish can't finish the job, they don't deserve the help anyway. They returned home victorious!


- Were you there? Because I didn't see you, and I was there! No, they didn't return home victorious. They retreated to La Coruna, and took me with them, fortunately. Unfortunately, we got cut off again. But we still got transmissions from the general Headquarters, so I was able to continue sending my reports through them.


- That explains a lot! - said Joachim suddenly.

- What do you mean?

- Well, I guess you didn't get the chance to read your articles in print, did you? They started to get less 'your style' in late May. They started to get more "propaganda-ish", if you get my meaning. That coincides with the supposed victorious return of the Condor Legion, and Franco's bold maneuver. Here, it was sold as plain stupid, but only a week after the Legion's "return".

- Please, keep your conspiration theories to yourself, would you? I'm in the middle of the exciting story and grand adventures of my return, if you don't mind!

- Alright, I'm sorry! Please, continue!

- So. As I was saying, I managed to talk myself into this truck full of German soldiers, when the Soviet planes started to bomb Burgos.

- Soviet planes?! - said Hans and Joachim simultaniously in utter surprise. This tiny little bit of information didn't find its way into the newspapers.

- Do you want me to tell the rest of the story, or you don't? Because I won't say another word unless you keep quiet and don't interupt me at every turn!

- Alright alright, sorry...

- Where was I? Yes, the truck. So I managed to get on this truck full of soldiers because there was this guy, their leader, and I knew the sister of his childhood best friend's older sister's nanny's cousin from school. Actually, I made up the story, but we came from the same general area, so it might as well be true! Now, with them, I got to La Coruna, where I went to the local headquarters to get in touch with either home, or at least with the general headquarters. The former didn't work, the later did. They told me to stay with these soldiers, and don't get in the way... They actually gave me a rifle and a uniform! Thank heavens, this lieutenant, Wilhelm von Walsrode was a nice enough fellow, and kept me out of danger. By July, things got better for a short time, when the resistance in the North was crushed, but Franco's push didn't work as expected. HQ told me that I may get back to Burgos in whatever way I can, or I may stay put, but they can't afford to send me any form of transport. So I stayed put.


- Wilhelm told me that things are looking up, Barcelona is cut of from the main forces, we are linked with the capital, and with the Northern parts secured, the forces fighting there can be redeployed to the front and start to fight for real. He probably didn't count on one thing: the Spanish people. The Falangists were defending the people, but the poeple didn't understand that, and fought back.

- Thank God, Erhard's not here...

- Joachim! Stop interupting me! Where was... Oh, yes. The chance for a quick victory they would have needed to win this war was lost with Franco's failed push (which, ironically enough, was pushed back), and they were not ready for a prolonged war. They didn't have the infrastructure nor the administration for that. They always relied on the people making them their tools of war, but now the poeple was building those tools for the government instead. By the end of the summer, we were cut off again, and on the retreat. The unit I stayed with was forced towards the Portugese border, where we finally got shelter. The regime there offered us safe passage, but no other support. Fortunately, this Wilhelm guy was much smarter than I thought at first, and realized that the war was lost. So, we headed for Lisbon in late August.

- But that was four months ago! What took you so long? - Joachim remained silent, but Hans couldn't.

- I will forgive you for this interuption because of your can of beans. Now we are even. A small misunderstanding took me so long. We arrived in Lisbon in two days, and booked a passage for Wilhelmshaven, but someone messed up something (it wasn't me, honest!), and we ended up on the Azores instead! It was a nice place to be, I admit, but still. We only spent a month or two there, then we gathered enough finances to get to Palermo, from where we walked to Messina, then by train to Naples, again by foot to Rome, by train to Genova, by foot to Milan, then by train to Zürich. There, we split up with Wilhelm and his unit, because they were going to Baden. From there, I came by train again, but I had to bilk, because I had no more money left. So, I don't have anywhere to stay until tomorrow, when I will go to the Völkischer Beobachter and then get things sorted out at my apartment to which I unfortunately misplaced the keys. So, can I stay here for the night?


Index

June 15th, 1937, Munich. Erhard's graduation ceremony was over a few hours ago, and he already made his excuse to leave the party thrown by his classmates, now colleges, too. Joachim mentioned something about some Irish whiskey he aquired recently. That should be most interesting! Definitely preferable over the regular beer he would get in the beer hall where the others were going. You can get beer any day. But this is a special occasion. You only get a degree once in your life! Well, alright, some smartasses get multiple degrees, but that's beside the point. It is going to be great! When he arrived to Hans' house, he was all fired up. He rang and the janitor let him in. He climbed up to the second floor and knocked on the door.

- Who is it? - said a particularly happy vocice from behind the door.

- It's me! - replied Erhard, rather annoyed. Who else could it be anyway?

- What's the secret password? - asked the happy voice.

- What? What password? Who is this? - now Erhard was really annoyed...

- I'm sorry, boy, I can't let you in if you don't know the secret password! - the happy voice was seemingly getting even happier.

- Come on, there's no secret password! - said Erhard furiously.

- That's right! You can come in now.

- Argh!!! - Hans opened the door, with a smile that almost ran off his face. A living proof for the existence of the aformentioned Irish whiskey. - I see you are quite enjoying yourself.

- And you will be, too! Come in, I'll get you a drink!

Erhard put down his bag and stepped into the living room. After the Anschluss of Austria in late February, Frau Liebigstein moved back to his family in Wien, and left the management of the shop to Hans, who, with the increased salary could now afford some nice furniture, a radio and his very own telephone.


- Erhard! Congratulations! - Joachim greeted his friend with a warm hand-shake. - Achieving top marks in the University of Munich is quite a deed!

All the others were there too, gathered for the occasion: Hans, proud owner of the flat, which was the meeting ground for these five in the last one and a half year; Martin, previously a reporter for the Völkischer Beobachter, but since January, an employee of the Ministry of Education and Propaganda; Wilhelm, promoted to the rank of Captain after returning from Spain in December; Joachim, who just recently secured a job for himself with the Deutsche Werke, a major German shipbuilding company; all here to congratulate Erhard, the young man, fresh out of University, hopefully with a glorious life ahead of him in sience, education or whatever that catches his fancy!

- Did Hans cook? - asked Erhard from Joachim, while taking a nice glass and pouring some of Joachim's whiskey into it. - I hope not... He's not bad usually, but I guess he had a bit too much of this stuff already. - he tasted the contents of his glass - Which is pretty good, by the way! Worthy of such an occasion!

- Don't worry, he didn't cook. I managed to convince Frau Oldenburg, the wife of the janitor to help us out. I think it turned out quite well, if I may say so myself. She is a wonderfull cook, but you will see for yourself.

They took their places at the table and the evening continued in a great mood. Even Wilhelm, who was usually a lot more modest, opened up after a few drinks. They talked about their great adventures in the past, and later on, the discussion stirred towards the future.

- And what are your plans with this degree? - asked Wihlelm. He was still not too fond of the passionate young graduate.

- I'm not yet sure. I know, I should have plans for my entire life already, but I just don't know...

- Well, there are plenty of oportunities for a young mathematician like you right now - started Joachim. - For example, at the Deutsche Werke, the keels of five Light Carriers were just laid down in Kiel. I was told that they are only experimental vessels, which means there will be more to come later, and they most likely will need some serious redesigning by the October of next year, which is the intended date of commissioning of these five.


- I'm sure that would sound quite fascinating, if I knew what a 'Light Carrier' even was... And I'm a mathematician anyway, not an engineer.

- You could quickly learn into it, I'm sure. - replied Martin - But if you don't want that, I can also think of a few things someone good with numbers can help with in the Ministry. Accounting for example.

- Aw, the exciting life of an accountant. -said Erhard with a slight hint of irony in his voice - Thanks, but no thanks. I'm sure you could get me a teacher's job somewhere too, but that would be also boring as all hell.

- I could use someone to count the... - started Hans, but Erhard's "Oh, just shut up!" yell silenced him quickly.

- I would suggest a job in Logistics, but I very much doubt that you would want to join the Heer. - said Wilhelm. He and Erhard had an argument or two about how heroic or how pointless it is to serve in the armed forces. Then, they just agreed to disagree. Sort of.

- And you would be right. I would rather go work for Hans.

- You would? Great, you can start...

- It was only a figure of speech, alright?! - all laughed about it for a while.

- But seriously - said Martin - There are a few research projects you might actually be interested in. For example, there's this RADAR thingy, some lab guys have been working on for more than a year now, with no noteworthy results. I'm pretty sure I could get you some job there, with your credentials!

- Now that's more like it! I've read about the concept of RADAR during last year, and it is awesome!

- But that was only one possibility. There are also very interesting and highly rewarding projects at the Department of Agriculture! - The conversation took another turn, this time towards silly pictures with Erhard in jeans and a straw hat, shoveling horse dung in Luisenburg...


Index