He was aware of the eyes that were on him, ranging from marine guards to secret service to White House staffers and servants. The news had spread like wildfire and news bulletins, already prepared, were going out. The waiting and wondering were over. Harry Truman was the President of the United States and, he thought, the hell with Churchill and Himmler and Hirohito and Stalin and all the others. He would be his own man. They knew nothing about him and he thought it would give him a leg up on the opposition, both foreign and domestic.
He didn’t want the job, hadn’t asked for it, but, damn it, he would do it to the best of his ability.
CHAPTER 21
“Jesus Christ,” Morgan thought in disbelief as he read the mimeographed memo.
His hopes were dashed. There would be no leave for him or any of the other troops confronting the Nazis on the Rhine. The word had just come down from Eisenhower and SHAEF that the situation would not permit large numbers of American soldiers to leave their stations for a little vacation. Of course, he thought bitterly, those guys who were working behind the lines probably got as much time off as they wished. Once again, the combat trooper was getting fucked.
Realistically, he knew giving everyone leave was impossible. Where would literally hundreds of thousands of GI’s go, even if they got leave? France was still in a state of chaos, and violence was an ongoing possibility as the remnants of the communist uprising fought on. Large numbers of soldiers taking leave in the occupied Rhineland was also not possible. The United States was still at war with Germany and the German people simply could not be trusted. Again, how would the Rhineland, or any other European country, absorb so many hungry, horny and alcohol-deprived young men?
The notice said that the army would endeavor to make life a little more comfortable at the front. Beer would be provided and it wouldn’t be the low alcohol piss they had been getting. Better, the nonfraternization rule was being relaxed to permit such “social, commercial, and cultural interactions with the German people as would be considered reasonable and in the military’s best interests.”
Jack and the others thought whoever at Ike’s HQ had thought up that phrase must be laughing all the way to the officers’ club. Social, commercial, and cultural interactions would obviously translate into screwing and drinking and paying for it.
The big disappointment was that he could not have a chance to see Jessica and they were both saddened. On the plus side, limited telephone service was now available and he’d managed to make several calls to her. He felt like a teenager who couldn’t get a car and could only talk to his girlfriend by phone. It was great, however, to hear her voice, her laugh. He just wanted to reach out and grab her through the phone. He said it once and she giggled like a school kid and said it sounded like a good idea.
Not getting leave wasn’t fair, he thought and was reminded by Jeb and Roy that life wasn’t fair. “If it was,” Roy said, “everybody would be Jewish.”
“Or Southern,” Jeb added with equal solemnity.
Miles away and in the suburbs of Aachen, Jessica came to a conclusion. If the mountain wouldn’t come to Mohammed, she would go to the mountain. There was an opportunity to get much, much closer to where the 74th was stationed in and around Remagen. A large refugee camp had been set up near the small town of Reinbach and the Red Cross had heard bad things about it. Rumors of starvation and brutality, even rape, were being heard in Washington. Rumors also had German soldiers guarding the camp and keeping the refugees as prisoners. Mrs. Turnbull had asked for volunteers to go with her and see what was actually happening.
It didn’t seem likely that the American army would countenance the creation of a concentration camp for refugees, but it would be checked out. Now all she had to do was let Jack know her schedule.
“We have been looking for clues and finally found them,” Admiral Canaris exulted. “Many of the German people left behind when the Americans took the Rhineland have maintained their loyalty to the party and, once again, have provided us with the information we need.”
High resolution photographs were projected onto a screen set up in Himmler’s Chancellery office. “These were taken by General Galland’s jets to confirm the reports,” Canaris continued, “and show a large number of landing craft in the area known to be under Patton’s control. As a result, we are confident that the American attack will be farther south at Coblenz and not at Bonn as was first thought.”
The photographs clearly showed what were called LCVP, which stood for Landing Craft Vehicle/Personnel. Unofficially, they were often referred to as Higgins boats, after their designer, and were being made in the thousands. They could carry a full platoon at nine knots and had a crew of three, and had two machine guns.
“I believe they weigh nine tons and are launched from a mother ship, as was done at Normandy,” said von Rundstedt. “How many are there, how did they get there and how will the Americans get them to the river?”
Varner stifled a smile. He had earlier raised the question with Rundstedt. Himmler looked intrigued.
“By rail,” Canaris answered and changed photos. “Our sources documented them as they traveled from French ports to this spot in Patton’s area. By the way, they counted far more than the number we’ve found. We are looking for the others.
“A spur line was built to this field where the boats are, well, parked,” he continued. “The Yanks are building additional spurs from the staging area to the river where they will be launched.”
Rundstedt nodded. “And how many landing craft did you say you found?”
“At least a hundred. But, as I said, we are looking for the others.”
“Then let’s assume you don’t find any others,” the field marshal said. “Instead, let’s do the math. One hundred craft times fifty men if you stuff them in for a short journey, and you have five thousand men in their first wave. Since they will doubtless suffer casualties, perhaps eighty boats will be available for a second wave and sixty for a third and so on. They would be hard-pressed to land a full division before they ran out of landing craft.”
Canaris flushed. He was not used to having his data mocked. “It is the first such park we have found. There will doubtless be others. Besides, Field Marshal, I believe the Americans’ intent would be to make a lodgment on the east bank of the Rhine and then build pontoon bridges. Therefore, a large number of landing craft might not be needed. I must remind you that the situation is so much different than what occurred last June when the Americans and Brits invaded in large numbers and with massive naval support. At that time, they also required far more landing craft and attacked on a very broad front, neither of which is necessary to cross the Rhine. Please recall that the Allied landing craft had to travel several miles each way, while the Rhine crossing would be less than one mile.”
Rundstedt was unconvinced. “But will they land in the south and not north near Bonn? Admiral, I find nothing wrong with your assumptions; however, we must have accurate data. General Dietrich’s Reserve Army must be on the move before the Americans attempt to cross. Right now nearly three quarters of a million soldiers and eight thousand tanks are scattered and hidden from American planes. If they are to succeed, we must provide them with every advantage possible.”
They all understood that the hundreds of thousands of German soldiers weren’t the highest quality, since the best remaining German infantry were dug in on the Rhine. However, the armor was of high quality, consisting of almost all available Panthers, Tigers, King Tigers, and, of course, the newly acquired and refurbished T34’s.