Skorzeny was also a believer in the plane. His commando team used the model during their Grand Sasso Operation to free the Italian leader, Benito Mussolini. Its short take-off capability and sturdiness would also be a plus in the operation. It lifted off the ground in a dime and could take a beating.

  As he was putting the finishing touches on setting the Type 17 fuze, Skorzeny could hear the rumble of explosions and other noises of war. They seemed to be getting closer by the minute. “Sturm!” he yelled. “Yes, Colonel?” “Go and see if there are Russians near. It looks like they are getting really close.” Marco stopped working on the Storch and walked to the hangar’s stairs, which climbed on its roof.

  Half a minute later, he came back running like the devil downstairs. “Colonel! Soviet soldiers and a few tanks at the end of the runway eastward end!” “Damn!” swore Skorzeny. “Time to go, Marco!” He closed the lid on the bomb, exited the Hanomag, and locked it tight.

  He ran to the Fieseler and arrived almost at the same time as Sturm. They started the engine, and the plane slowly rolled toward the building’s exit. The second they were out in the open, several bullets sparked all around them, hitting the tarmac. “Must be closer than you saw!” Said Otto looking around from where the shot seemed to come from. And indeed, the Yvan’s were close. They weren’t just at the runway’s end; they appeared to be all around the airfield. Several brown-clothed soldiers streamed out of the wooden area circling the Gdynia airfield. And all of them seemed to be fixing their attention on the small German plane. The two SS commandos turned the aircraft to line it up with the runway to take off. Bullets were zipping past from every direction, and the muzzle flashes of the guns firing could be seen from where the soldiers stood at the forest’s edge. The Soviet ordinance inflicted some damage, but the Fieseler was not hit in any critical area, so it picked up speed. A powerful explosion rocked the ground near the Storch as it was about to lift off. A T-54 tank had just fired its main 100mm gun. The Russian gunner missed the plane but made a large hole in the paved area and scattered debris in every direction, showering the two men’s small plane. Marco swerved the machine left to avoid the largest pieces of falling debris, and his move almost toppled the Storch. But he kept control with his firm grip. Skorzeny held on to the steel bar just beside him and was able to stay upright in the plane.

  And then the aircraft lifted off the ground. Sturm pushed the throttle to maximum, and it climbed fast, followed by lines upon lines of red tracers from bullets fired at it. Within another half a minute, they were gone from the scene, flying low just over the forest, so the enemy didn’t have any more angle to see them and fire. They flew off toward the western horizon, tapping each other on the shoulder in congratulations and smiles.

  An hour later, Lieutenant-General Gasparov, commander of the 7th Tank Guard Division entered the hangar where the two SS men had been located. “We’ll make this place our HQ and get me that German Hanomag operational; I want it for myself.” He pointed toward the modified machine that Skorzeny had put the bomb in. Some of his staff officers walked toward it while some curious soldiers were already climbing it and noticing that the hatch was locked. None of them noticed that it was weird since locked German military machines were rare.

  Russians soldiers were streaming into the place, guns at the ready, overturning the place to check for any enemies or valuables (The Reds were known to be experts at looting). All around the airfield, the Division was arriving, and the area had been chosen as a rest and refit area before the unit went on to the attack again the next day. Night was quickly falling, and Gasparov had ordered everyone to stop for the evening.

  The 49th Rifle Division that was advancing along a parallel line as the 7th also approached the airfield on their armored trucks. Finally, Gasparov ordered the 245th Rifle to occupy the city of Gdynia, half a kilometer north of the airfield, since it was empty of German defenders.

  The General thought that things were going well and that if they were lucky, they would move fast enough for the Wehrmacht never to catch its breath.

  After another forty-five minutes, where he’d decided things were organized enough all around, he walked back to the Hanomag that his men had just finally entered after prying it open. “So, how’s my new ride?” asked Gasparov, that was in a good mood. “Hehhhh… General, there is something weird in here…” What do you mean, soldier?” he answered.

  The first German atomic bomb triggered itself, and the Soviets around it never knew what hit them as they were instantly vaporized. Within another second, the rest of the airfield was engulfed in a blinding light, erasing everything and everyone within a kilometer from existence. The blast expanded in a perfect circle to about a one-kilometer radius. Then the explosion made itself heard, and the earth shook like it was the end of the world. The forest just beyond the initial radius ignited like a match, and everything burned up, transformed in a fire vortex that engulfed over 45 000 Russian soldiers. Even the city of Gdynia was destroyed in the nuclear fury.

  From afar and on both sides, the fighting stopped, every soldier looking up in the sky to watch the towering white mushroom that rose ignominiously in the air.

  And just like that, Germany also claimed its place in the seemingly fast-growing club of nuclear power wielders.

  CHAPTER 6

  The death of Hermann Goering

  March 25th, 1947

  The man that had presided over the Reich’s destiny for the last four years stopped breathing late at night between the 24th and 25th of March. Goering lived a long and eventful life. He was involved in most critical world events since he’d been a Red Baron’s fighter squadron pilot during the First World War.

  With him died the last of the top Nazi officials that had led Germany since they took power in 1933. First, Hitler and Himmler were killed in the plane explosion over Russia in 1943. Then Rudolph Hess developed a severe mental illness and was placed in a mental institution by the end of 1944. Goebbels death followed the destruction of the city of Konigsberg. Albert Speer was just getting back to Berlin after being injured during an Allied air raid on the Bavarian oil reserves hidden away in the mountain of Southern Germany. Martin Borman, the enigmatic and powerful Fuhrer’s secretary (Hitler), had lost most of his power when Adolf died, and Joachim Von Ribbentrop had no credibility left after his diplomatic bungling’s in 1939.

  So the moment Guderian heard of Goering’s demise on the morning of the 25th, he immediately went into action and moved fast to finalize the military takeover of Germany. Only this way, the man believed, that Germany could be saved.

  The General knew deep down that the country had been poorly led since the start of the conflict. While it was too late to hope to salvage a win from the developing disaster that was the Third Reich’s position, he held on to the belief that it was still possible to salvage the country and its armed forces before it was utterly destroyed and occupied by the Allies.

  Most governmental agencies and organizations were under the Wehrmacht’s control by noon. The Gestapo commander was relieved of command, and a General was put in his place (General Von Neurath).

  Again, no real resistance was offered by any of the Nazi Party officials. It was like their will had died with the last few months of disasters and Hitler’s death. After all, Goering had steadily trimmed down the SS armed forces and of any rival Nazi organization that could put any shade on his power during his reign. Maybe if Himmler had still been alive, things would have gone down differently, but as it was, Germany was ripe for a military takeover. Besides, the new man in charge was a famous General. Heinz Guderian had been the man that led the Wehrmacht to victory in France, Britain, Africa, the Middle East, and Russia.

  No better solution could be offered to the frightened and almost beaten Germans than a famous and brilliant strategist.

  Goering’s body was brought back to berlin from his Carinhall mansion, where national funerals were to be organized for the man that had so gallantly taken over from Adolf Hitler.

  This major political change within the Reich added with the Russian aggressiveness, and nuclear detonations of all three major powers still standing by 1947 would significantly change the diplomatic landscape in the next few months.

  Recon in the Austrian Alps part 3

  141 Regiment assault a mountain, March 25th, 1947

  Jack grumbled as his squad walked up the old Roman path again toward the spot they’d been to the day before. The damned captain had ordered him to get in touch with the local Russian commander so they could figure out a way to get rid of the German position together.

  Summers wasn’t confident this was a good idea, for the Ruskies had not been too collaborative since the Allied armies joined together in Central Europe. All of his men had their guns at the ready since they didn’t know if the situation had changed from the day before. For all they knew, the Germans could have moved up their trail to wait in ambush.

  “Остановка!” The loud Russian word startled everyone in the unit. The three new soldiers fumbled with their rifles. At the same time, the rest of the experienced men put a knee on the ground and expertly aimed each in a different direction to cover all angles around the trail, just like they’d been taught to do in training back stateside.

  Several Russian soldiers circled them from all sides of the trail in the woods and broken ground of the area. “ne volnuysya!” yelled the same voice. None of the American soldiers spoke any Russian. “I meant halt, and then don’t worry,” said a burly-looking Russian sergeant that casually appeared on the Roman track from somewhere above their position. His English accent was horrible, but they could understand him. “Damn, sergeant. You scared us big time!” said Summers. The Red Army non-comm officer didn’t seem to understand, “Izvinite,” he started, and then tried his English again “sorry for startling you.“ he added still in terrible slang-like English.

  “No worries, sergeant,” said Summers, trying to pick up his most confident voice. “My name is sergeant Jack Summers, of the 141st Regiment, Lone Star Division.”. The Soviet man seemed to get what he said. “Yvan Visnevsky, sergeant in the 332nd Rifle Division.” He finished his walk up and stopped right by Summers. None of the other soldiers on both sides had yet lowered their weapons. “What are you Americans doing here?” It was complicated for Jack to understand the man, but he thought he got most of what he said. “We’ve been sent here to make contact with you and discuss collaboration to take the enemy position up there, by the cliffs.” The Russian officer seemed surprised by the American’s words. “You’ve been up there?” he asked curiously. “Indeed, we watched your men trying to remove the mines get massacred by snipers. I even recommended to my officer that we should simply bypass this position because casualties will be too heavy to take it.” The Soviet smiled at that, showing his rotten teeth. “Ja, sergeant. Same in every army. I've told my officer the same thing, but he still wants us to assault the German defenses.”

  Summers gestured for his men to lower their weapons, feeling the situation still very tense. His Red Army counterpart got the message and did the same. The tension dropped like a rock to almost nothing, everyone on both sides relaxing a little, some even smiling.

  “Okay, Yvan. So what do we do now, you willing to work with us to take that German position?” The Russian non-com officer took Jack by the arm and brought him a little further down so his men could not hear him. “Sergeant, I am under direct orders not to interact with any American of British soldiers, whatever the reason. “ He paused to look seemingly at empty air before boring directly into Jack’s eyes. “But I don’t like that order since it means more of my men and other friends from the Division will die because of stupid orders.”

  Jack nodded with a thin smile. “Okay, sergeant. So how do you propose we work this out?” “We are almost done clearout out the enemy minefield so that we can attack soon. Bring your men up; we’ll attack together.” He signaled his men to pack it up and go back up the Roman road. “He started walking, turning his back toward Summers. “In two days, we’ll be ready for the assault. Bring your men up at dawn on the 28th.” He smiled. “I just won't tell my stupid officer that we have agreed to attack together. It’ll just be considered a coincidence that we arrived at the same time to assault the Hitlerites’ lair.”

  And at that, he left, leaving Jack and his men in the trail. Turnbull walked up to Summers to find out if there were some orders for the men. “Damn, Blair. I know he’s a damned Communist, but by god, I like that man.”

  Stavka meeting

  Moscow, March 26th, 1947

  Joseph Stalin tapped his finger on the table. He was annoyed but kept silent, while either Molotov, Malenkov, or Zhukov talked each in turn. It didn’t matter if he spoke; he’d made sure to have their opinion already in individual meetings and had also given them their instructions.

  The latest developments were not to his tastes. Things had been going so well for him—first, the complete success of the Manchurian invasion and total control of Northern China by his forces. Then the nuclear detonation of Konigsberg and the powerful offensive that pushed the Germans out of Poland. After the blast on the Baltic, the Wehrmacht seemed finished; even its Fuhrer was incapacitated.

  But then Germany pulled another rabbit out of its hat and also detonated its own atomic bomb, obliterating over 40 000 Red Army soldiers in the process. It completely gutted the offensive going so well and poised to thrust at Germany’s heartland.

  The development came as an unpleasant surprise and showed the Soviets that the Germans still had some teeth. And besides, Stalin was not stupid enough to think that the Americans lost another bomb over the German sky, so the Reich must have developed its own. It meant that they would either have more or could build more. Not a good prospect for the USSR and consequently for Stalin’s power. The country was years from attaining any kind of parity with the West in terms of nuclear technology. Until then, the Soviet Union was on its own to face atomic fire.

  Hence, the situation gave the Russian dictator an even greater sense of urgency. Things needed to be resolved fast in Europe for the country to prosper. Only with the complete conquest of the old continent could it be safe. With Germany’s conquest, it would also be possible to seize their nuclear technology or scientists and potentially accelerate their own development.

  He knew from his spy network in the western world that his nuclear bomb had made a great impression on the Western Democracies and that they probably wouldn’t dare use a bomb against the Soviets for fear of retaliation. Little did they know that Russia did not have any more atomic weapons. Not even close.

  The Germans were an entirely different matter. The damned Hitlerites knew how to fight and were willing, as were the Russians, to die in troves to attain victory. He knew that telling the Germans that every bomb they would drop on him he would retaliate would fall on deaf ears. They just wouldn’t care and would hope to launch more bombs than their arch-enemies could.

  For all these reasons, he’d instructed Zhukov to launch an all-out attack. The man had a couple of weeks to prepare for the final assault on Germany, but he was instructed to leave nothing behind and send everything the USSR had. New units, partially built units, everything. One last desperate push to destroy the damned Germans. He would see how things looked from there, but he knew he would certainly be tempted to attack the Western Allies before they got too strong and had too many nuclear weapons.

  Zhukov had told him that he would have to take troops from the Caucasus and dangerously thin out the Balkan occupation forces, leaving the recently conquered countries to their own devices. Thus he told Stalin that he would not be able to guarantee that these countries would stay within Moscow’s orbit and that the pro-Russian Communist governments they were trying to install might fall rapidly.

  The Russian dictator didn’t care and had instead instructed Molotov to go on a tour of the Central and Southern European countries to tell them that if they moved against the USSR, there would be hell to pay once it was finished with the Third Reich. He believed the threat would be enough to keep the bastards in line.

  The thinning out of the Caucasus armies meant that the Soviet Union would not be strong enough to destroy Turkey and the German forces there. Still, he figured that the Allies had a powerful Army in Iraq/Syria, so they would just have to do the job.

  The argument between Malenkov and Zhukov heated up to the point that their yelling yanked Stalin out of his daydreaming. He didn’t intervene, for he liked to see his underlings fight and bicker while everything was decided anyway.

  State Dining Room, White House

  Washington D.C., March 26th, 1947

  “Nice meal, to say the least.” Said Churchill, putting his scotch-filled glass on the table. “I agree, Winston,” said President Truman. The two men were discussing the current European situation over a meal in the State Dining Room, the official White House guest dining place. It could seat as many as 140 guests, and they had a packed room that evening. The stately diner was held to mark the end of the Allied conference. So everyone on both delegations had been invited, along with many influential U.S. politicians, generals, and their wives.

  The huge reception room was originally much smaller and served as a drawing room, office, and cabinet room at various times. In 1947, it incorporated the space that President Thomas Jefferson used as a private office. Tall and generously proportioned, the room had fireplaces on the east and west and during the day was flooded with daylight through tall south and west windows. When President James Madison and First Lady Dolley Madison took up residence in 1809, the room became a dining area.