Truman sipped his bourbon. Unlike Molotov’s vodka, it was the best. “We have it on good authority that many of Vlasov’s soldiers are shot the moment they are taken by the Red Army. That does not sound like justice to me.”
“It is our justice. You may think it is rough, but you have to remember the massive wars and upheavals that my country has endured in the last few decades. Any hint of rebellion must be crushed.”
“Minister, at Yalta your country promised free and fair elections. We even sent members of the exiled Polish government that had been in London to Moscow after you promised that no harm would come to them. We now understand that they are all dead, executed by your secret police. We are willing to negotiate the return of those who wish to go back to Russia, but we will not force anyone to return to Stalin’s clutches.”
Molotov winced at the insult to Stalin. He looked around, half expecting to be arrested for simply being in the room where such comments were made. The arm of the NKVD, the Soviet secret police, was long.
Molotov switched topics. “Stalin is concerned that your actions regarding the traitors presages the possibility of the United States negotiating a separate peace with the Nazis, in particular, the vermin holed up in the Alps.”
“You can tell Premier Stalin that he has nothing to worry about on that score. We will not negotiate a separate peace with those people you so accurately refer to as vermin. We might negotiate where and when they will lay down their arms, but lay them down they will. Josef Goebbels is deluding himself if he thinks we can be deterred by the mountains and winter and anything else that might stand in our way. If he survives, Goebbels will go on trial with all the other Nazi sons of bitches we hold.”
Molotov seemed satisfied, even smiled. “Premier Stalin will be pleased. You might inform the government of Argentina that the Soviet Union will be watching them and how they try to assimilate the Russian traitors. As I said, the NKVD has a very long arm.”
“I’m sure the Argentines can take care of themselves. Now, and along the lines with Poland, when are your troops going to end their illegal occupation of Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Estonia, Lithuania, and Latvia?”
Molotov smiled grimly. “There is nothing illegal about our forces being in those countries just as there is nothing illegal about your soldiers being in Germany. We require buffer nations to protect us from future German aggression and our troops will leave those nations when we are confident that they are stable. There will doubtless be mutual defense treaties between those nations and the Soviet Union that will guarantee that peace.”
The Russian took another sip of the vodka and grimaced. “Did I not hear a rumor that the U.S. was contemplating breaking up Germany into little nations much like it was less than a hundred years ago?”
“That was never seriously discussed,” said Truman. “Treasury Secretary Henry Morgenthau proposed it, but it will not occur.” With that, Molotov and Truman thanked each other for their courtesy and Molotov departed.
Truman made himself another drink. Son of a bitch, he thought. The Russians are going to be a real pain in the ass. And how could Roosevelt have thought he could get along with Uncle Joe Stalin? Roosevelt must have been a lot sicker than he and everyone else had thought.
* * *
Winnie sat on a folding chair she’d brought so she could watch the front of the Goebbels compound. With rumors that the war would encompass the area around Arbon, people were moving out and she’d picked up the chair for pennies. Once more, Magda and the children were moving, this time for the greater security of Zurich. After that it was rumored that the group would somehow get to Portugal where they would take a ship to Brazil. Their ultimate destination was presumed to be Argentina. Both she and Ernie had wondered just how many Nazis and former Nazis, their families and their sympathizers Argentina could handle before exploding.
She decided she didn’t care. What she wanted now was for all the Nazis in Arbon to disappear, and if the earth swallowed them up she didn’t care if that happened either. She saw Helga walking towards her with a very uncomfortable guard behind her.
“We’re leaving again,” a grim-faced Helga said. “And once again it’s all your fault. My father says you are going to bomb everything so we have to leave to be safe. Why do you have to do that?”
“Maybe it’ll end the war.”
“Why don’t you leave us in peace?”
Winnie decided to be blunt. “I would be happy to leave you and your brothers and sisters in peace, but not your parents. They have to answer for the crimes they’ve committed, especially your father.”
Helga’s eyes glistened. “But he’s done nothing except try to help and protect Germany and the German people from the Jews and other enemies.”
Winnie decided it was pointless to argue. “I think we have to let other people decide that. I do hope you find safety and peace,” she said, surprising herself by meaning it.
Helga smiled winsomely. “I hope the same for you and the man who’s watching us. Too bad you’re not lovers yet. You are a very nice lady, even if you are an American. Oh, you’re not Jewish are you?”
“Would it matter if I was?”
Helga thought for a moment. “No, I don’t suppose it would, at least not under the current circumstances.” She surprised Winnie by leaning over and giving her a hug. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”
“May I take your picture?” Winnie asked. Helga thought for a moment, smiled and nodded yes. Winnie took her camera, a very expensive Leica she’d bought in Zurich with her father’s money when she’d arrived in Switzerland. She even had color film in it. Helga smiled again and posed herself. It dawned on Winnie that the girl must have had many pictures taken of her. She took a couple and the guard sullenly took one of the two of them. Helga laughed and ran off.
Good luck, Winnie thought. What will your life bring? she wondered. Would you be able to live with the knowledge that your parents-your father in particular-was a war criminal. If he was executed for his crimes, could you handle that? Would you have a good life or would you become embittered? She found herself hoping that the child would grow up to be a human being.
* * *
A short while later, a column of trucks and busses departed Arbon. They would travel by road to Bern and then by train to Marseilles. From there they would take a ship to South America.
Dulles entered the compound accompanied by a handful of Swiss police and soldiers. After a short while they emerged. The Swiss left and Dulles signaled for her and Ernie to come with him.
As they looked around the compound, both hers and Ernie’s conclusions were that the Nazis had lived a Spartan life. The house was two stories high and made of cement blocks. It looked shabby and run down and badly needed painting. At least it was large, they agreed.
Dulles checked his watch. “Some other agents will arrive tonight about ten, which is about six hours from now. I want you to stay here and watch the place. There should be no incidents. The Swiss are entirely on board with our taking over the facility. Who knows, we may make it our permanent base.”
Ernie shook his head. “Not if the bombs are going to be falling close by.”
“Good point. I’ll have to think about another alternative. In the meantime, stay out of trouble and don’t break anything. If you need food, call and someone will send in some sandwiches. The phones are working.”
After Dulles left, they wandered about the building and grounds. The Goebbels family had left numerous articles of clothing and many items with swastikas on them. Ernie liberated some monogrammed handkerchiefs and Winnie took some towels, agreeing that they would make wonderful souvenirs. Ernie added a couple of ashtrays and a cigarette lighter to the pillowcase he was using as a swag bag.