Schubert couldn’t help himself. He had to look around to see if anyone from the SS or Gestapo was listening in on them. No one was, of course. The only thing he could see in the fading light was the large numbers of craters left by countless bombs and shells. It was a stark and ugly moonscape, just like the pictures he’d seen on science fiction novels, only worse. Novels don’t smell of burned and exploded flesh along with gasoline and anything else that would burn. They were thankful that the darkness did not allow them to clearly see the debris around them.
“We’ll have to wait for an opportunity to give ourselves up.” Schubert said.
“If we wait too long,” Hummel said sadly, “we’ll all be dead.”
* * *
President Harry Truman looked at the report, shook his head glumly, and put it down on the table. “I thought we had won this war,” he said. “Yet this rump part of Nazi Germany continues to hold out and sends thousands of our boys to either the hospital or the graveyard. And I don’t care what some generals like to think, it was a defeat. General Marshall, about how much ground did we take?”
As usual, the Army’s chief of staff was expressionless. “On average we gained about half a mile.”
“Three divisions of infantry, reinforced by an armored division and an infantry division, tried to bull their way through the pass and made only half a mile. That might have been a major gain in the First War, but not this one. At this rate, Devers’ armies will meet up with Clark’s somewhere around summer of 1948. This first attack on the Brenner was not a victory, was not even a draw. We got our asses kicked.”
Marshall did not disagree. The two men were in a small office adjacent to the Oval Office in the West Wing. Truman had recently decided that he liked to use it for small groups. A movie screen had been set up on one wall and a very nervous Army captain had just shown them the latest unedited films from Germany.
“What we have just watched should not be made public for at least fifty years.” Truman said.
The debacle at the head of the Brenner had been filmed in glorious Technicolor. The flames were brilliant and bright, and the scenes showing the Shermans being blown up were dramatic and awful. Brave cameramen had gone in with the infantry and the graphic death scenes of American soldiers had shaken Truman to his core.
Marshall was not done. “I have other films for you to see, Mister President. They are from the last war and show the Austrians and the Italians in battle in the Alpine snows. It will give you some idea what we will face if the situation is not resolved before the next snows roll in.”
“I will see them, General, just not today. I have other problems. In just a few weeks I am supposed to meet Stalin and whoever will be prime minister of Great Britain in Potsdam, Germany. We will discuss the future of Europe. How the hell can we discuss that while this Alpine Redoubt still exists and while this asinine creation called Germanica thumbs its nose at us?”
“Are you having second thoughts about using the atomic bomb in Germany, sir?”
“I can’t begin to think about using something that hasn’t even worked yet, and God help us if the remote possibility that the Nazis have their own is true. Even if it does work and we use the damn thing to blast a path through the Brenner, it’s now very likely that residual radiation won’t let us use that path. Damn it to hell. Now it looks even more than likely that Churchill will be replaced by that dullard, Attlee. God help us, but the situation in Europe looks bleak.”
“And we still have Japan to defeat,” added Marshall. He was glad that the perpetually angry and volatile Admiral Ernest King was not present. He would have taken the last comment as an insult to his navy and exploded.
“But just like the Germans,” Truman said, “the Japanese have been defeated but just won’t admit it. The Nazi hierarchy knows that they will hang or be put in front of a firing squad if there isn’t a diplomatic solution that will allow them to escape punishment. The same holds true with the Japanese. The Japanese ruling council is a bunch of sadistic war criminals and Hirohito is the worst. I know that we might have to give in and let the four-eyed bastard remain on his damn throne, but I don’t have to like it. But there is no way that Josef Goebbels and his cohorts are going to escape punishment. Goebbels in particular is going to hang.”
“You know that the Russians are willing to help us,” said Marshall.
“Of course they will help us. I may have just become president, but I know that Stalin is a grasping, lying son of a bitch. We will likely need him to invade Manchuria and elsewhere in the Pacific to help finish off the Japs, but I do not want him to attack this Germanica and take any more of Europe then he now has. I’m catching hell from the Republicans in Congress because he’s now squatting in Poland and other countries and isn’t very likely to leave anytime this century.”
“Well sir, what do you suggest?”
Truman sagged. “Unless you or one of General Groves’ scientists comes up with a miracle, we can drop an atomic bomb or two on Japan, but not in Germany. There we’ll still have to slug it out with the Nazis.”
Or, the president thought, we might have to deal with the Nazis.
* * *
“You look as bad as I did,” Winnie said softly. She was smiling, but there was deep sadness in her eyes.
He started to rise, but she pushed him back and stroked his hair. “I leave you alone for just a little while and you manage to get into such trouble. When are you going to grow up?”
He had to admit that she looked lovely, radiant. The bruises were almost all gone, or at least covered by makeup. She had been shocked and saddened by his appearance after Sam Valenti had let her into his quarters the first time and this second time wasn’t much better.
“I didn’t know you cared. I hoped you did.”
Winnie smiled. “Of course I care. You’re like a puppy that needs lots of training.”
“I was hoping for more than that.”
“Oh yes, you stink. When was the last time you took a shower or did anything to clean yourself?”
“I believe it was the morning before I got my butt kicked by those two Nazis. Is it that bad?”
“Worse. I am now going to help you get out of bed and go down the hallway to the showers. You will clean up and you will put on fresh clothing. Then maybe we will go out in the sunshine.”
“Will you shower with me?”
“Not in this lifetime,” she said with a disarming smile that seemed to indicate that perhaps she didn’t totally mean it. “I may pretend I’m a nurse and assist you but nothing more is going to happen. And I won’t be shocked by what I see. I did have a brother. Actually, I’m afraid I might be disappointed.”
“That hurts.”
Winnie helped him to his feet. He was wearing GI boxer shorts and a T-shirt. She found clean clothing and helped him to the shower where he managed to undress himself. She did not leave as the hot water cascaded down his body. “You could change your mind and join me,” he said.
“Not a chance. Sam might come in, and a couple of Dulles’ guys are still staying here. Anybody could come in at any time. I like my privacy, thank you. Now, if you can manage to wash up without hurting yourself, I’ll go and find you some clean sheets.”
“Will you wash my back? I can’t quite twist my arm around. It hurts too much.”
She sighed. “That’s the most original excuse I’ve ever heard.” She took the washcloth and soap and leaned over far enough so she could do his back and the back of his legs without getting herself wet. He had a nice hard butt, which didn’t surprise her. She realized that something else was getting hard.
“I see you’re beginning to feel a whole lot better, so I’ll leave you to your own devices.”
“Wait just one minute,” he said. He faced her and handed her the washcloth. “It won’t take long.”