Parallel nazi 07c1, p.1
Parallel Nazi 07c1, page 1
CHAPTER ONE
March 2, 1944; 6 AM
Tempelhof Airport
Berlin, Germany
Why did Heinrich Schloss feel like a criminal fleeing the scene of a crime? Intellectually he knew it was very late to be leaving Berlin. But Russian soldiers were marching into the city, and he felt like he had done nothing to stop it. And now his motorcade had turned around to flee Tempelhof Airport and the flaming wreckage of Schloss’s personal Focke-Wulf Condor.
Why had life become impossible? When Schloss, the Accidental Nazi, was bounced from 1982 Berlin into 1941 Germany, he initially swallowed his terror and began a long struggle simply to survive. His first moments in this world confirmed that this was a very different Germany than he had studied as a historian. His shock at seeing Hitler’s JU 52 cartwheeling across the airfield in a ball of flame were coupled with the surprise when he looked down to see himself arrayed in a Nazi uniform. Why was he suddenly in the middle of everything he detested?
More shocking was when the man standing next to him turned and addressed him as Herr Parteileider. Somehow in the change, Schloss had replaced Martin Borman, who was in Schloss’s original world known as Reichsleiter.
Following six months of intrigue and strife, Heinrich Schloss, the historian from a future Berlin that would not exist in this world, succeeded in vanquishing Heinrich Himmler and had become the unquestioned master of the German Reich. Using his knowledge of the events of World War II in his world, Schloss was able to avoid war with the United States, conclude a war with Great Britain, and begin to build a Germany that would be unchallenged on the European continent.
Along the way, Schloss met the great love of his life, acquired a family, and achieved satisfaction in beginning to build a great nation. But now, he saw his work turning to ash. To forestall a revolution in the Soviet Union as a result of his repeated purges, Stalin elected to invade Germany to distract the people of his land from his failures.
Despite inspired tactics, the Wehrmacht had only succeeded in slowing down the invasion. And now, the Red Army had kicked down the door to Berlin and was marching into the city. Although he had sent his family ahead to Frankfurt, Schloss tarried in Berlin to maintain continuity for the government. And now, he was fleeing the onslaught.
Karl Rainer twisted around in the front seat of the Mercedes 770, so he could see Schloss.
“This is very bad, Herr Reich Chancellor. No other planes remain at the airport. And it is under fire. We will have to fight our way through the roads, and it will be dangerous.”
“What do you suggest, Karl?”
“If we can get to Potsdam, perhaps we can find an aircraft there.”
Schloss shook his head. “We cannot stay out of touch for long. We need to look for a place that has a telephone.”
The roar of an incoming shell interrupted the conversation. It landed several hundred yards away, and pieces of shrapnel rattled against the windows of the armored limousine.
“Herr Reich Chancellor, we need to first get you out of here,” Rainer insisted. “You are in great danger.”
“I am aware of that, Karl. I am not suggesting we find a phone right now. Let’s get 10 or 15 kilometers down the road, first.”
The earth heaved, and the Mercedes tipped up onto its side. Schloss slammed against the side of the car, and he saw the driver tossed over against Rainer. Schloss struggled to right himself and peered through the windshield to see what was happening. The car ahead of his in the motorcade was burning. He looked out the back window, and the car following them was now a crumpled mess.
“Are you all right, Karl?” Schloss called to the front seat.
“I think he is injured,” the driver said as he struggled to pull himself up. “He is bleeding from the head.”
Schloss swore. “Gott im Himmel, we are in trouble now. We are going to have to get out of here on foot.”
“I think I can get my door open,” the driver stated. “I will help you out, Herr Reich Chancellor.”
“We can’t leave Karl.”
“The Russians have the range on the airfield, judging from the way they are pasting it. We need to get out of here while we can.”
“What is your name, Corporal?”
“Jan Binns, mein Herr.”
“Very well, Corporal Binns. You get the door open and climb out. I will push the Reichsprotektor up, and you can pull him out.”
The driver looked unsure but then grasped the steering wheel and the seat and pulled himself up to where he could unlatch the door. He then pushed it up and over against the fender. He braced his arms against the doorframe and levered himself out of the car. He worked himself around to brace his feet against the back door and the fender and looked down at Schloss.
“I think I am ready, Herr Reich Chancellor.”
Schloss nodded and gritted his teeth. When the car was tossed on its side, he had landed against the door handle, and his arm really hurt. It didn’t appear to be broken, and Schloss was obviously in better shape than Rainer. He rolled onto his knees and worked his way forward so that he could get his arms around Rainer.
“Okay, Karl, let’s get you out of here.”
Schloss grunted as he tried to shift Rainer. The Reichsprotektor was not a big man but was surprisingly solid. Schloss levered him up to a sitting position, crouched on the door glass, and slid his arms under Rainer’s. Assuming they survived the adventure, he was going to be sore tomorrow. But probably not as bad as Rainer.
It looked like Rainer had banged his head against the windshield post and split the skin. Schloss hoped that the Reichsprotektor was merely knocked out. He would have a headache upon awakening, though. There was a lot of blood, which is also common in head wounds. There was a first aid kit somewhere in the car, but Schloss thought it was more important to get Rainer out first.
“Are you ready, Corporal Binns?”
“Yes, Herr Reich Chancellor.”
Schloss decided he would only have the strength to do this once. He slid his hands into Rainer’s armpits, took a couple of deep breaths, and pushed upward as hard as he could. His arms shook from the strain, but he boosted Rainer high enough for Binns to grab his coat. Between the two of them, Schloss and Binns somehow managed to haul Rainer out of the car and lay him on the side facing the sky.
Binns jumped down and held his arms up. “Now, ease his legs over the side, Herr Reich Chancellor. I can get him to the ground.”
Schloss struggled to pull himself out of the car. He then swung around and dropped to the ground. He decided getting down was easier than getting up. Gravity had its uses. Once Rainer was laid out on the ground, Schloss looked at Binns. “Do you know the location of the first-aid kit in the car?”
“Yes, Herr Reich Chancellor.”
“Do you think you can climb back in and find it?”
“Of course, Herr Reich Chancellor. Give me just a moment.”
Schloss decided that an 18-year-old Corporal was much more limber than a 40-year-old Reich Chancellor. The young man eeled up onto the car and dropped through the door again. A few moments later, he popped out and was on the ground again. Schloss opened the cardboard box and studied the contents, trying to decide what to do.
“Why don’t you let me do that, Herr Reich Chancellor?” Binns asked. “I have had some training in first aid.”
Schloss chuckled. “Why not, indeed?”
As the driver carefully bandaged Rainer’s head. Several more shells dropped into the airfield. Schloss looked around wildly, trying to decide what to do next.
“Please remain here for the moment, Herr Reich Chancellor. I will check the other cars to see if there are survivors. Following that, we will need to make some decisions about how to travel.”
“Are you one of Carl’s trainees?”
“No, mein Herr. One of the Reichsprotektor’s trainees trained me.”
Schloss chuckled again. “That’s good enough for me.” He wondered why he was laughing. There was nothing funny about the situation.
Rainer looked like he now had a turban on his head. The Corporal jumped up and trotted to the car ahead, which was burning merrily. He circled the car, looking to see if any of the passengers were thrown out. Shaking his head, he trotted to the following vehicle, which looked demolished. He suddenly put both hands on the doorframe and yanked the back door open. A disheveled-looking SS Captain clambered out of the car and stood beside it brushing himself off. The Corporal crawled into the car, apparently to check the other passengers. When he pulled himself out again, he was holding three pistols and a rifle.
The two men walked quickly back to where Schloss sat on the ground next to Rainer.
“Herr Reich Chancellor,” the captain barked. “It is good that you are alive. Is the Reichsprotektor badly injured?”
“I would say that he has been knocked out,” Schloss replied, “but I am not a doctor, so what do I know?”
“We have got to get you out of here.”
“People keep telling me that. I suppose we must decide how we are going to do it.”
The SS Captain looked around and continued brushing off his uniform. Schloss concluded that the finely tailored clothing was important to the man and struggled not to smile. Beside him, Rainer groaned.
“Karl, can you hear me?”
Rainer groaned again. “Mein Gott, my head hurts!”
“That means you’re alive, Karl.”
Schloss looked up at the other two men. “Let’s give it another couple of minutes. Maybe he will be able to wal
“Perhaps the captain and I can support him,” Corporal Binns said.
“Perhaps the Corporal can wait for senior officers to make a decision,” the captain sneered.
“The Corporal has shown more initiative than anyone else around here in the last 10 minutes,” Schloss barked. “I believe you would do well to listen to his suggestions.”
The captain jumped to attention. “Of course, Herr Reich Chancellor.”
“What is your name, Captain?”
“Erich Strang, mein Herr. I am on the Reichsprotektor’s staff.”
“Very well, Captain Strang. Give us a couple of minutes to see if the Reichsprotektor comes to his senses. And, Corporal, hand me one of those pistols. In the rush to leave, I forgot mine in the office.”
“Of course, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Binns immediately replied, handing Schloss a 9 mm Luger.
“Are you with us, Karl?” Schloss asked.
“What happened?”
“We took a close hit.”
“We have got to get out of here,” Rainer said, pushing himself to a sitting position. He quickly reached up and put his hands to his head. “Something sure rang my bell.”
“Just be thankful you have a hard head, Karl,” Schloss said. He was tempted to laugh but thought that his companions would start to question his sanity. And, indeed, Schloss questioned his sanity for waiting so long to flee the city.
Rainer glared at Schloss through lidded eyes. “I’m glad to see you are in the prime of health, Herr Reich Chancellor.”
“Come on, Karl. Let’s get you to your feet. Enough of this laying around. There is work to be done.”
Schloss stood up and looked at Strang. “Okay, Captain. You and the Corporal get to guide the Reichsprotektor out of this place. I will, of course, provide cover.”
Rainer managed to roll his eyes as the two men levered him to his feet. More shells rocketed into the airfield, throwing up gouts of debris.
“We are going to die out here,” Strang yelled.
“That may be true,” Schloss called, “but if we stay put, we will certainly die.”
Fifteen minutes later, they had struggled to the airfield gates. A solid mass of automobile, truck and foot traffic crowded the highway away from Berlin.
“Wait here a moment,” Strang said.
The SS Captain walked over to a 1939 Opel Capitan sitting in the traffic. Reversing his pistol, he tapped on the window with the handle. The driver rolled down the window.
“We are requisitioning your car. Everyone needs to get out.”
The back window rolled down, and a Luftwaffe colonel leaned out, aiming a pistol at Strang.
“I think not, Captain.”
The captain pointed back to where Schloss stood with Rainer and Binns. “Do you know who that is?”
The colonel leaned further out and squinted through the drifting smoke. “Mein Gott, is that the Reich Chancellor?”
“Out of the car, Colonel.”
The Colonel looked at Strang and then at Schloss. He then opened the door and climbed out.
“Very wise, Colonel,” Strang said coldly. “You get to live for the moment.”
Strang swung his head to motion for Schloss and Rainer to move over to the car. “Herr Reichsprotektor, Herr Reich Chancellor, you will ride in the backseat, of course. I will ride up front with our driver.”
“Would you allow us to get our things out of the trunk?” The Luftwaffe colonel asked.
“Be quick about it. There is little time.”
Once everyone was in the car and the doors shut, Strang looked over at Binns. “Very well, Corporal, let’s go.”
The Corporal looked ahead at the mass of traffic in front of them and back at Strang. Even though the road was completely blocked, it reflected the sense of German orderliness.
“Do you know how to drive in the ditch, Corporal?”
Without another word, Binns shifted into first gear and pulled the car over to the shoulder, and began moving forward. Strang twisted around in the seat to look at the senior members of the German government who were the passengers.
“Where to, meine Herren?”
“Let’s try to get to Potsdam,” Schloss replied. “That should get us out of the range of the verdammt artillery. And then I badly need to find a telephone.”
“Do you think you can find your way to Potsdam, Corporal?” Strang asked.
“I believe so, Herr Captain.”
CHAPTER TWO
March 3, 1944; 11 AM
Fort Shafter
Honolulu, Hawaii Territory, USA
Colonel Max Jorgensen looked up as the duty Sergeant knocked on his door.
“There is a Lieutenant Mathers from CIC to see you, Sir.”
Jorgensen threw his pencil down on the desk. It had not been a good week, and he hoped things would begin to change by Friday. But the presence of an Army counterintelligence agent in his office was a bad omen.
“What now? Did he say what he wanted?”
“No, Sir. He just asked for a few moments of your time.”
“Very well, Sergeant. Send him in.”
“Do you want coffee, Sir?”
“Most definitely not. Then he will feel obligated to stay and chat, and I don’t have time for that this morning.”
Jorgensen glared at the lieutenant, who marched to his desk and saluted.
“You don’t look like a CIC agent.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Mathers responded.
Jorgensen glared at him a moment longer and then returned the salute. “Go ahead and sit down, Lieutenant. What’s on your mind?”
“You have a Captain Gregory Conn in your unit,” Mathers stated.
“Yes, yes. Fine officer.” Jorgensen glanced at his watch. “He should be boarding a plane to the mainland in the next hour or so. Fort Belvoir wants him back. They’re giving him his majority.”
“Sir, this doesn’t leave the room, but I observed him servicing a message that was dropped by a Soviet national. Colonel Helms suggested we have a conversation with him.”
Jorgensen grew very still. “Greg Conn? Are you kidding me? He is one of the finest young officers I’ve had the opportunity to mentor.”
“Needless to say, this looks suspicious. Is he flying out of Hickam?”
“Yes, and good luck detaining him. The Army badly wants him back in Virginia. I tried really hard to keep him here and got a rude message from General Taylor for my troubles.”
“If he is talking to the Russians, that may be the least of our problems,” Mathers commented.
“He even volunteered to manage the unload on an ammo ship on his way to Hickam. I have never seen anything to indicate he is anything other than a red-blooded American soldier.”
“Ammo ship, Sir? Who was the NCOIC?” He was referring to the non-commissioned officer in charge.
“That’s why I was so glad he volunteered, Lieutenant. I’m dreadfully short of NCOs around here. Corporal Plimpton had the crew.”
“Two things then, Colonel. And I really hate taking up your time. I’d like to speak to Corporal Plimpton. And I need to use a telephone. I think we need to hold that airplane before Conn gets out of our hands.”
Jorgensen frowned. “Very well, Lieutenant. You are calling the shots. You can use my telephone. Let me go rustle up Corporal Plimpton.”
Jorgensen got out of his chair and walked to the door as Mathers reached for the telephone.
“Sergeant, find Corporal Plimpton and get him in here, quick as you can.”
The Sergeant picked up his telephone and started things flowing downhill. He wondered why CIC would have any interest in the Corporal. He was sure the Corporal would as well.
Mathers set the phone down and turned to the Colonel. “Conn’s airplane has already left.”
“And you will louse up a lot of schedules if you call the airplane back.”
Mathers shook his head. “And I probably don’t want to do that just on suspicion. We can have him detained when he gets off the plane in San Francisco.”
“I suppose that means you are finished here,” Jorgensen said hopefully.
“Not quite, Sir. We are wondering why the Russians would be interested in someone here on the islands. Enough so that they would take the risk of contacting him.”
“I suppose they knew he was being recalled to the states,” Jorgensen mused.
