Josef Goebbels caught her looking at the sky. “A few more days at the most and we’ll be safe.”
“The Americans will still bomb us.”
“Where we are going will be too close to the Swiss border. The Americans won’t chance it. Both sides need Switzerland’s neutrality.”
* * *
Assistant Secretary of State Dean Acheson flew to London to visit the U.S. ambassador to Great Britain, John G. Winant. A Republican, Winant had replaced the rich and controversial Joe Kennedy several years earlier, after Kennedy’s pro-appeasement stance had offended so many in England.
The meeting with Winant was brief. It was intended to be. Nobody would think it in any way significant that an assistant secretary and an ambassador had met and talked. The media didn’t bother to cover it.
Thus, no one noticed when the DC3 chartered to the State Department turned south towards France instead of flying directly back to the U.S. The plane landed at a military field near Reims and Acheson was driven to a private home that had been taken over by the Army just so that he and Eisenhower could meet in private. General Marshall had informed Ike that Acheson was going to arrive and that Acheson had his full support.
After the amenities and a bite to eat, the two men sat across from each other at a table. Acheson opened up his briefcase and took out some photographs. Wordlessly, he slid them over to Ike.
“Dear God,” Eisenhower said in shock. “I had no idea he was in such bad shape. These are almost the photos of a dead man.”
The pictures were among the latest taken of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. They showed a man who was frail, shrunken, and gaunt. The photos were in color and Roosevelt’s skin color was a sickly, deathly gray. Ike shook his head. “He looks like a refugee, or someone who has just been liberated from a concentration camp.” He sat back and returned the pictures to Acheson who put them away. “We’ve all known that he is exhausted, but what these show is well beyond that.”
“And that is the point of my showing them to you, General. FDR just began his fourth term. He very strongly felt that, for better or worse, he was the only man who could navigate the U.S. through the end of this war. Now it looks like he won’t make it and that his conceit will likely kill him. Certainly, it is extremely unlikely that he will complete the three plus years remaining in his term. It is, therefore, very likely that he will either die or be forced to resign and Vice President Harry Truman will become President of the United States. FDR does not appear to have much faith in the man. Of course, he never had any use for his previous vice presidents.”
“Truman? I don’t believe I’ve even met the man. I know he was a senator from Missouri and hadn’t been involved in any scandals, or anything else for that matter. But if he is going to be the next president, why in God’s name did FDR choose him?”
Acheson shrugged. “Who knows? Franklin has always treated his vice presidents with contempt. But it gets worse. It is strongly believed that there will be elections in England and that Churchill will lose. The Brits are sick and tired of years of austerity and war and they want a chance at a better life. In particular, they want one without bombs, and without telegrams saying that a loved one has perished. And they do want sufficient food for their children. England is a land that is significantly malnourished. Churchill was, is, a fine war leader and a marvelous symbol of British tenacity, but the consensus is that he would be a miserable peacetime leader. If there is an election, Clement Atlee would then become prime minister.”
Ike recalled Atlee as a colorless and dour man. Would this be the leader of what remained of the British Empire? Relationships with Churchill were often difficult, but at least the man wanted to fight the Nazis.
“There’s nothing we can do about Churchill, is there?”
“Not a thing,” said Acheson. “It is very likely that we will have to deal with Attlee. We don’t know what his stand on the war will be, although we suspect he will want it ended as soon as possible. We hope that doesn’t mean compromises, but who knows?”
“There are other problems,” Ike said as he digested that pronouncement. “I presume you’re aware of my difficulties with the French? Generals Leclerc and de Lattre won’t even speak to each other much less take orders. De Gaulle has threatened several times to pull his army from my command. Only when I threaten to cut off his supplies does he relent and do roughly what we want. Even then his army very liberally interprets our orders to satisfy his needs. I doubt very much that the French will be willing to have their army climb the Alps.”
An aide brought coffee. Acheson sipped and smiled. “This is excellent. Yes, General Marshall is well aware of how difficult the French can be and that leaves the Russians, doesn’t it? Not so long ago, FDR said that Stalin was a man he could deal with. Now the Soviets are stealing everything that isn’t nailed down. They are raping, murdering and plundering their way through Germany and forcibly occupying countries as they go. There will be a big stink about their seizure of Poland, especially from FDR’s Republican opposition, but there’s nothing anybody can do. The Red Army occupies Poland and we cannot push them out unless we wish to start a new war. However, the consensus is that the Reds will actually stop at the Elbe, the demarcation line agreed on at Yalta, and not move beyond. It is further believed that they are even more exhausted militarily and economically than England and France. Only Germany itself may be in worse shape.”
Ike lit a cigarette and drew slowly. It gave him a moment to think. “And now you’re wondering just what I can do to speed up the demise of Nazi Germany. In particular, can it be done in time for us to assist in the invasion of Japan?”
“Precisely. General Marshall wanted me to remind you that invading Japan will require much of your army and will also need to divert supplies to the Pacific theater. The invasion of the home island of Kyushu is scheduled for October of this year and is called Operation Olympic. Operation Coronet, the invasion of Honshu and the attack on Tokyo, is planned for about six months later. The army is scraping the bottom of the barrel and drafting men who were rejected just a few months ago. We cannot sustain your army as well as the large force that will be needed to invade Japan.”
“Mr. Acheson, are you aware that Herr Goebbels is en route to this Alpine Redoubt?”
The normally poised Acheson showed his surprise. “No. Are you certain?”
Ike’s normally cheerful face showed his anger. “Our intelligence intercepted a message saying that he was not going to hold a conference at Berchtesgaden because it would be too dangerous. He was right. We would have bombed the place back to the Dark Ages and the days of Barbarossa. Instead, he said he was going to go directly to the Redoubt. A new Nazi Germany would then arise from the ashes of the Third Reich. I don’t want that. I want Nazi Germany destroyed!”
“General, everyone wishes that. The only question is how in God’s name do we do it?”
* * *
Major Alfonse Hahn smiled coldly. The thin and pale boy standing before him and staring at him was perhaps fourteen. He had either lied his way into the Wehrmacht, or the army was so desperate that it was now taking little children. Sadly, he thought the latter. He was so young that his face was covered with pimples. The boy had not been one of the rabble inducted into the Volkssturm. He had been enlisted in the regular army, which meant he had received at least minimal training. That and his eagerness to serve the Reich would suffice.
“Private Gruber, what do you see before you?”
The boy giggled. “A piece of shit, sir.”