Guisan, a small, prim-looking man with a thin mustache was, in time of crisis, the commander of all Switzerland. Intensely patriotic and a firm believer in doing everything to keep his country neutral, he had threatened to destroy the tunnels and bridges and move his people into the mountains if the Germans had attacked. The Nazis decided that conquering Switzerland was doable, but would not be worth the time and effort.
But times were now different. Major units of the Swiss Army were arrayed within a few miles the border with Germany. Now they were confident that it would be a fairer fight than it would have been a few years earlier. Back when World War II started, the Germans were strong in the air and had superb artillery and armor. Now they had neither and the Swiss army was larger than the rump German army across the border. Guisan had felt comfortable that his beloved nation would survive the carnage around it.
That is, until he heard what Dulles had to say.
“Let there be no doubt about it, General Guisan, my president strongly feels that the war with Germany must be brought to a swift and relatively bloodless conclusion. The Germans must either be destroyed or capitulate before winter closes down military activities. Therefore, we are giving you notice that our bombers will soon have free rein to bomb any and all targets in the Germanica rump state. These will include the crossing points where trains and columns of trucks are bringing into Germanica what are called humanitarian supplies. If necessary, we propose to starve the Germans. I am well aware that high-level bombing is notoriously inaccurate; therefore I urge you to evacuate areas close to the border, such as this lovely town of Arbon.”
Guisan’s face was turning red. “That is monstrous. We have done nothing to deserve this.”
Dulles shrugged. “Who has, General? You might ask the same question of the Poles, the French and the citizens of just about every nation in Europe. As a great American once said, war is hell. We will not commence bombing immediately. When we are prepared, we will give you twenty-four hours’ notice before we start.”
“We do not have an air force, but we do have guns and we will shoot down your planes.”
“If you do that, the planes escorting the bombers will have orders to attack those guns, wherever they might be situated. Your unique position has spared you the agonies of war, but that time has passed.”
“We will move to our own mountain forts and fight you from there.”
“We don’t care what you do, General. We will not be invading, so you can retreat to the mountains and sit there for all eternity and starve.”
Dulles thought he could see Guisan’s mind churning. “If you will do your best, we will do ours,” he finally admitted.
“Excellent. There are a few other factors to consider. While neither of us has a navy in the area, we will be launching armed gunboats onto Lake Constance. They will not come within three miles of Swiss soil while they bombard German targets. There may also be, ah, other activities on the lake.”
“One can only imagine,” Guisan said drily.
“And when the war is finally over, there will be the issue of Nazi money now on deposit in Swiss banks. These will be turned over to the Allies as part of German reparations. We are particularly interested in retrieving the money and other valuables stolen from Jews and deposited in your vaults.”
“Our bankers will never agree to that.”
“Yes they will. It might take a little while, but they will realize that they have no real choice. If they don’t, Switzerland will be isolated even more than she is now and trivialized. Financial centers will open elsewhere and all you will have left of your economy is skiing, good watches, and excellent chocolates. If your bankers accept our proposal, you will soon recover from any inconveniences you might suffer. If you play it right, you will come out on the side of the angels and the saints and the world will respect you.”
Guisan smiled tightly. “I have never thought of myself as either an angel or a saint, but I do see your point. I will discuss matters with my superiors and will get back to you.”
“Excellent. Just don’t take too long and don’t forget that close-in bombing will commence in a very short while.”
“If some of the higher-ranking Nazis want to leave Germany via Switzerland, what will be your stance?”
Now it was Dulles’ turn to smile and shrug. “You can do whatever you want with Goebbels and his ilk. As the saying goes, they can run but they can’t hide. They will ultimately be tracked to the ends of the earth if necessary. I would also appreciate it if you did not hamper our diplomatic operations in Switzerland while these matters sort themselves out.”
The two men shook hands and General Guisan smiled, this time with humor. “It has occurred to me, Mr. Dulles, that your new president is quite a bastard.”
“Sir, I will gladly convey your compliment.”
CHAPTER 16
Tanner was with the lead column from the 105th as it was driven slowly down the road to Innsbruck. There had been no shooting. The war had taken a holiday. The only thing to disturb the relative tranquility was the steady stream of Russians heading to internment prior to a trip to Argentina.
Sergeant Hill was driving, which gave Tanner a chance to think. Doc Hagerman was up to his ears giving surrendered Russians a cursory physical. Each one of them, he’d said, harbored an enormous colony of fleas and other crawly things. “I don’t think some of them have ever bathed in their lives. And as to sending them to Argentina, it would be a cruel thing to do to Argentina. So many of them don’t have any idea what or where Argentina is. All they know is that they hate Stalin and want to be many miles away from his clutches.”
Translations were being done from Russian to German to English, which had led to a number of misunderstandings. Fortunately, none had been serious and the Russians even had a sense of humor. As long as they weren’t going to visit Stalin, they could laugh.
They passed a sign. It said Innsbruck in six kilometers. The sign had been shot to pieces and was barely readable. “Think we’ll find anybody in the town, Captain?”
“There’s always somebody,” he said.
Before the war, Innsbruck had a population of more than sixty thousand. As the end of the Nazi nightmare drew near, the population had swollen to more than a hundred thousand. This had attracted American fighters and bombers who’d plastered what had once been a lovely city and a center of the winter tourist trade. There had even been talk of Innsbruck hosting the winter Olympics, which wasn’t likely given the city’s Nazi past.
As they drove they could see the totality of the devastation. What had been lovely chalets were charred piles of rubble. To no one’s surprise, there were people still living in the ruins. There weren’t many, but at least they had survived, and some of them even waved at the Yanks. As with most Germans in the summer of 1945, they were in rags and looked like they hadn’t eaten in weeks.
Hill chortled. “I sure do like what Hitler did with Germany, sir. I’d like to ask some of these idiot people if this is what they imagined their lives would be after fighting all those countries.”
“You’re cruel, Sergeant, but it is appropriate. The Seventh Army says we should treat the Austrians gently since they weren’t Germans but were taken over by Germany.”
“With profoundest respects to the brass, didn’t the Austrians vote to connect with Germany?”
“Ah, but they say the election was rigged and they were without blame.”
Hill snorted. “All elections are rigged, especially where I come from. People don’t die; they live on forever as voters and it doesn’t matter what dates they have on their tombstones.” He looked again at the ruins. “We sure did bomb the crap out of this place.”