“What does this offer entail?” I asked. I was caught off guard by what was previously said.
Himmler cleared his throat, making me question the sincerity of the offer. “First, I want to ask you a question. Do you have an interest in my organization, the Waffen Schutzstaffel?”
I thought over the question for a handful of seconds, half my brain thinking that what was being asked was one of Himmler’s notorious trick questions. “Yes, I have keenly followed the Waffen Schutzstaffel, and have commanded men from the organization. They are the bravest men that I’ve seen in combat and deserve every credit that is given,” I finished by adding a reaffirming smile at the end.
He nodded, returning the smile. “I read the after action report,” he bluntly said. “How a Heer general commandeers a weapon he is not authorized to command or operate. I am sure you are aware of the consequences by unlawful action,” he said before stopping for a moment, causing me to gulp. “However, these are under normal circumstances Herr General, which again I am sure you are aware of, the Führer and I have talked over this situation for an hour and have decided your fate.”
I was half intrigued to keep listening to what was being offered; and resisted the urge to raise the Luger and bring a resolution to this awkward conversation. I continued my stare at Himmler’s face, and continued to calculate the situation. I had a good feeling on what the offer was; though knowing that Hitler was involved didn’t help me confirm my suspicions of the offer. The Führer’s knowledge of the situation in any theater was absurdly wrong. A memorandum had recently been circulated directing the armies pushing the Allies out of southern France, to drive across the Pyrenees and reach Madrid no later than the first of August. All involved in the offensive knew Madrid as an unrealistic target, until at the earliest perhaps late September. A more realistic date, given the dramatic shortage of men across the fronts, was August 1945, more than a full year away, if ever.
“General Schnack, the Führer and I believe that for the betterment of the Reich, that a general such of your experience, history and attitude be a great benefit within the elite organization that I run,” Himmler said with great emphasis on the fact that he runs the organization.
I was a bit shocked by the development and my faced showed it. I had not entirely calculated this opportunity. Nerve pulses were racing down my spine causing a tingling feeling, I…this offer would open up new possibilities for my commitment; my duty to what I feel is my obligation to the Reich. “What are the conditions of this offer?”
Himmler smiled; I think he knew he had me where he wanted; though for all the wrong reasons. “Well, this condition is that you will be heading the Waffen Schutzstaffel army group in the western theatre. In addition, to better benefit you, a promotion is in order. Your new rank would be SS-Gruppenführer,” he said lighting up my face.
SS-Gruppenführer Tristan Schnack, and the new collar insignia.
“I…I accept,” I said, overriding the last vestiges of morality that surfaced. My morality had made its presence known several times; and had been repressed every time. I was brought up to respect my elders, superiors and leaders. I, like millions of others had taken the allegiance not to the Reich but to Adolf Hitler personally. I remember two weeks after the death of President Hindenburg, who I had so admired when I was a boy-soldier, that my unit was ordered into the town square to pledge allegiance. I vividly remember that day, I still a month into being Captain, and I led the men into the square and began the pledge:
"I swear by God this sacred oath that I shall render unconditional obedience to Adolf Hitler, the Führer of the German Reich, supreme commander of the armed forces, and that I shall at all times be prepared, as a brave soldier, to give my life for this oath,” we said with a magnificent thunder, all in unison.
I had broken that pledge on countless occasions. I could easily name a handful of conspirators, and people who had knowledge of the conspiracy but did not do anything. The list of people with knowledge is relatively short, but it is a who’s who list: Heinz Guderian, Julius Ringel, and Erwin Rommel just to name some important names of generals. There were other generals, serving on the Eastern Front who I heard about but their names escape me.
Himmler reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folder that I noticed had a picture of my face and name on it. He slowly opened the folder and shuffled through the documents before finding the paper he wanted. He pulled the paper out and presented it to me. “Congratulations,” he casually began, “the decision and necessary arrangements have already been confirmed. As of this moment, you are a member of the Waffen Schutzstaffel,” he said reaching his hand out to perform a handshake.
I returned the action and smiled, staring into Himmler’s eyes. “Thank you, sir,” I said as tightening the handshake before releasing a second later.
“What will your first order be as a newly commissioned general?” He had taken a few steps from me, but remained near the car.
I grinned, I was going to enjoy this moment. “Well, I am going to put this bluntly. I am not who you think I am. I am dedicated to defending the Reich against enemies; however I view the rise of National Socialism as the primary enemy of the state. For the past several years, since my promotion to Colonel in December 1942, I have been engaged in plans to overthrow the Führer.” The look on Himmler’s face was that of pure shock, he did not react, he stood there speechless.
Approximately thirty seconds passed before Himmler overcame the temporarily paralysis. He began to motion towards his belt, where his Luger previously was. “Aren’t you forgetting something Herr Himmler?” I said as I brought his pistol to view, ready to fire. “I guess you could say, you willingly handed your pistol to an enemy of the state; which if I’m not mistaken, makes you a co-conspirator; which is punishable by death. Is it not Herr Himmler?”
He had stopped fidgeting trying to find anything to attempt to return the status quo into his favor. “Yes,” he quietly said.
I had a huge grin on my face, even though I knew the simple confession had been forced, it was still delightful. “To warn you, Herr Himmler, you can beg and plead all you like, I am aware that you will only betray me. I wish I could extend your suffering like you have to countless others. I am forced to make this simple,” while speaking I raised the Luger to be on level with his head. I paused for a brief second, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. Gently pulling the trigger, a shot emerged from the barrel and penetrated its target in the forehead, just left of dead center between the eyes.
Himmler lurched forward in his last moments before the momentum forced his body to give way as he landed on his back. I have always viewed the name Himmler’s first name, Heinrich as a stain. Great-grandfather had been named Heinrich. I think he would be proud that a person who done tremendous harm to the reputation of thousands of others also named Heinrich had paid the ultimate price.