“What about that girl you said he raped, the one who beat up you and your brother?”
“What of it? Millions of German women were raped by Russians and others. My mother and I were fortunate to make it here safely.”
“Astrid, I would still feel better if you were in Switzerland.”
“All right. I will get my mother and we will leave, tomorrow if I can do it.”
He sighed happily. He had no idea how deep his feelings were for this girl, but he would be much happier if she was out of the war. Then he could concentrate on his task, if only he could now define it. If the cause of the Reich was truly doomed, then he should be looking out for himself as much as he was looking out for Astrid Schneider.
Astrid smiled. “I have one other piece of information for you, my dearest.”
Hans yawned. She had worn him out. “And what is that?”
“I think I’m pregnant.”
Shit.
* * *
Josef Goebbels took the small box from his pants pocket and looked at it. How many times had he done just that in the past few days? The box was innocuous. It could have held a tie tack or a ring but not anything expensive. It didn’t say Cartier or some other elegant jeweler. All it had was a swastika.
He opened it and looked at the small pills inside. They were cyanide. One would be more than enough, but he had asked for two in case he dropped one in his haste to end it all. He would not be taken alive. As he had promised an eternity ago, he would join Adolf Hitler in death. The world would honor him for his bravery and devotion. Besides, he did not want to end up on exhibit as was happening to so many of the Reich’s leaders. The Allies had announced that a series of trials would commence at Nuremberg, beginning with the highest-ranking Nazis in their custody and working down to the smaller fish. If captured, he would be the ranking Nazi. He would be displayed and mocked like an animal at some perverted zoo. Magda understood that, but the children would not. Therefore, he could not be captured.
So why then did his hands shake when he held the box? Goebbels took a deep breath. His hands shook, he decided, because he was as afraid of death as anyone. The Nazi empire that had once stretched from the Pyrenees almost to the Urals was now reduced to a few hundred square miles of desolate and useless mountains. The larger portion of the army was still fronting the Americans near Innsbruck, while a decent force remained to defend Bregenz. The generals were confident that the Americans would have to come down the narrow valleys that led from Innsbruck to the small town that was the current capital of Germany. He did not share their confidence, but he deferred to their knowledge.
Field Marshal Schoerner knocked and entered. Goebbels tried to hide the pill box but wasn’t fast enough. “I will not take cyanide,” Schoerner announced. “If and when the time comes, I will do everything in my power to die in battle.”
Goebbels gasped. Had Schoerner just insulted him? “Are you implying that I’m less of a man for considering poison?”
“Of course not, Minister. I merely state the obvious, that we come from different backgrounds. If I cannot get killed, I will try to shoot myself. If that doesn’t work, one of my aides will finish the task.”
“Will your aide get a promotion for the job?”
“Quite likely,” Schoerner said. He flushed when he belatedly realized that Goebbels had been sarcastic.
“Do you have any good news at all?”
“None whatsoever. Our time may be counted in days, or at best, weeks. We are almost out of food and ammunition and the Americans now control the lake. This means that they might try to attack from it.”
“The Swiss will not permit that.”
“Minister, the Swiss will not have a choice. From what intelligence we’ve been able to gather it looks like the Americans scent blood and wish to come in for the kill. When that happens, the Swiss will stand aside. Further, the number of desertions is increasing. Only about half the men we brought into the Redoubt remain with us. Yesterday, some enterprising soldiers overwhelmed their officers, stole a small boat, and sailed off towards an American patrol craft. They were welcomed with open arms.”
Goebbels laughed harshly. “Do you think they would welcome us with open arms?” Yes, he thought. Open arms-and a noose.
“Minister,” Schoerner said softly, “I think it is time to complete plans for using the bomb.”
* * *
Any plans for the bomb were limited by the capacity and range of the two V1 rockets they’d brought to Bregenz. The rockets had a range of two hundred miles and carried a one-ton warhead. They were also horribly inaccurate at long range. They had chosen the V1s over the V2s because they were much easier to move and launch.
Some thought had been given to arming the rockets with poison gas, but it was quickly decided that a ton of gas would not accomplish much except to anger the Americans and perhaps cause them to retaliate. With a two-hundred-mile range, it meant that major targets, such as Paris, London, or Rome were impossible reaches. They could only hit cities in Switzerland or northern Italy or, of course, Germany, which would be pointless.
Therefore, any target would have to be closer, much closer. The scientists had toyed with the idea of enlarging the warhead to house a greater atom bomb by reducing the fuel that would be unnecessary if the target was close. They had quickly come to the conclusion that reengineering the rocket would take more time than they had. Thus, they were stuck with a short-range rocket with a one-ton atomic warhead. Doctor Esau had been of the opinion that the American atomic bombs had weighed at least five tons. Thus again, they had a small nuclear device. It had to work and they had to convince the Yanks that they had more than one. The second rocket was for show only and some other dummy rockets were being constructed out of wood.
Schoerner smiled. “What do the Americans fear more than anything else, Minister?”
Goebbels returned the smile. “Why, casualties, of course. The American soldier is a coward and his leaders are politicians who are afraid to lose soldiers in battle. If our one bomb can decimate a large American force and if we can convince them that we have more of them, they will negotiate.”
“But the bomb has to work,” said Schoerner. “And Doctor Esau and his people have pledged their lives that it will.”
* * *
Generals Truscott and Devers watched as elements of the two-division assault force gathered itself. Devers was uncomfortable with his position. Even though he was the ranking officer, he had the uneasy feeling that Truscott was in charge and that Truscott would complain to Ike if he didn’t like what was going on. That would be like being taken to the woodshed, a humiliation that he could not tolerate. His pride would force him to resign.
Of course, he had to admit that the gravelly voiced Texan had done a magnificent job and had given Devers little to worry about.
The Rhine was clear, both of debris and enemy forces, all the way down to Lake Constance. That it meandered all over the place as it approached the Alps was irrelevant. It meant that small armed craft could sail its length and emerge in the lake. It also meant that many scores of landing craft could do the same thing and these were congregating along the shore at Oberlingen. When the army moved south to Lindau, the landing craft would follow. The army would board them and launch an attack from the lake. The Swiss would be even more furious than they already were, but nobody gave a damn about the feelings of the Swiss. Getting the landing craft and other support vessels to Oberlingen meant riding the Rhine along its length and in some cases cruising through small chunks of Swiss territory. There had been no incidents, but the American high command was confident that German sympathizers had relayed precise information about the American movements to the Nazis in Bregenz.