“So the desert fox does not feel anyone else can be as aggressive?” The sneer was apparent in Schörner’s voice.

  Rommel glanced around the room. Most of Schörner’s staff was present, and they could all hear the conversation. It was a mistake on Schörner’s part.

  “Let me explain the chain of command to you, Herr General,” Rommel said tightly. “You command this four-division corps with primary responsibility for the protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia. I command the German forces along the Eastern Front, and you report to me. General Guderian is responsible for overall military action for the Reich and reports to the OKW, and I report to him. And General Guderian reports to General von Rundstedt, who reports to the Reich Chancellor. I set the operational strategy for the front. My directives to you are not designed to keep you from being a hero, Herr General, but rather to keep you from endangering the Reich. Now, we will do this my way, or I will find somebody else to do it. Do you understand?”

  With teeth clenched, Schörner replied. “I understand, Herr general.” The man was white with rage, but he appeared to Rommel to be listening, at least.

  “Very well. I want a daily report from you on the status of your forces and what the enemy is doing in this area. Are we clear?”

  “We are clear, Herr General.”

  “I suppose I need to tell you that I don’t have time to come down here to wipe your nose every other week,” Rommel spat. “This trip is taking the better part of two days out of my schedule. God knows what Chuikov is doing at this time.”

  Without another word, Rommel turned and stalked out of the building. A driver was waiting to take him back to where he had landed. It was okay that Schörner was angry, for Rommel was furious as well. The Storch would take him back to Prague, where he would likely have to spend the night. Then in the morning, he would twiddle his thumbs on the JU52 taking him back to Berlin.

  Along the way, Rommel pondered what to do about Ferdinand Schörner. He treated his subordinates poorly and was disrespectful to those for whom he worked. The man was also rumored to be an unreconstructed Nazi, and Rommel wondered if he had ties to the Munich faction. On the other hand, the man was relatively competent and showed initiative, which was too rare of a commodity in the Reich. He resolved to talk to Guderian about it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Prime Minister’s Office

  Tokyo, Japan

  Isoroku Yamamoto stared at the pile of paperwork on his desk. He idly wondered if the other national leaders dealt with the same kinds of minutia that he had to read and digest. After engineering an end to the war, he had thought his life would become much more manageable. Indeed the peace treaty had removed a massive burden from the nation as well as from his shoulders. But the challenge of finding work for all of the suddenly demobilized military personnel grew. That many people on the street concerned him.

  Fortunately, the war had not touched the homeland other than the single American carrier strike on Tokyo. The comparatively minor damage required little rebuilding. With the shipments of oil from America beginning to arrive in the ports, the people’s confidence had grown, and the economy was starting to grow likewise. The race was on to develop new business quickly enough to absorb the additional labor.

  Yamamoto’s popularity was strong and muted the voices of the radical nationalists who claimed the peace treaty dishonored Imperial Japan. The Prime Minister was under no illusions that he would be forced to deal with this faction sooner or later. The group had widespread support in the military as well as the government bureaucracy. But, it seemed, though, that the average citizen of Japan wanted to be left alone to go about his business.

  The biggest challenge was one that nobody had anticipated. The Japanese rampage across the Western Pacific had trampled over the very customers served by the mercantile interests in the country. And the government was surprised to learn that rapine did not pay as well as commerce. Two problems presented themselves. While the homeland was pretty much intact, the Japanese had destroyed the economies of the nations she had conquered. And assuming those economies recovered, it would take a generation to regain the trust of those former customers.

  The Japanese commerce ministry fully recognized the current peril. The group had actively sent out representatives around the globe, focusing on countries that were neutral or friendly to Japan. The commerce team also actively looked at the strengths of the Japanese manufacturing sector and was developing an industrial strategy that would sell merchandise around the globe and create jobs for Japanese military veterans.

  Yamamoto picked up a piece of paper from the top of the stack and glanced at it. It was a memo from the foreign minister. Mamoru Shigemitsu had written to say that Richard Sorge had been recalled from the German Embassy and returned to Berlin. Sorge was unusual. Yamamoto had met the man when he was working as a journalist. The German Foreign Ministry had co-opted him, and he had served as First Secretary in the German Embassy for several years.

  Japanese military intelligence had uncovered evidence that Sorge was working for the Soviets. Yamamoto elected to pass this information along to the Germans as a peace offering. Now it appeared that the Germans had accepted his advance. Yamamoto snorted to himself. Sorge would likely have an interesting reception when he arrived in Berlin.

  It was time for his audience with the Emperor, so Yamamoto gathered his notes and walked to his waiting car. Security was now heavy, and a group of thirty guards accompanied him wherever he went. Though there had been no more assassination attempts, the bitterness of the radical nationalists guaranteed that they were actively fulminating against him. Along the ride to the palace, he pondered what to do about that. It was a difficult problem.

  “And what does our Prime Minister have for us today?” The emperor asked as he sat on his throne.

  “Majesty, we have a new report from the Ministry of Commerce. The economy is now growing on a three percent annualized basis, and we estimate one hundred thousand new jobs have been created across the homeland. We have also signed an agreement to purchase bauxite from Australia.”

  Hirohito nodded. “The news is good. Is three percent enough to sustain our employment needs, Prime Minister?”

  “Your Majesty is very perceptive. In the short term, we need closer to five percent growth for our employment needs.”

  “That is an honest answer. We look forward to hearing how our government is working to advance the growth of the nation.”

  Yamamoto bowed. “Indeed, your Majesty. The Ministry of Commerce is developing a plan for economic growth, which we will present to you for approval.”

  “We thank the Prime Minister for his efforts.”

  With that, Hirohito stood and slipped from the throne room. Yamamoto glanced around. There seemed to be more military people in the room than usual. He would have to ask the military Chief of Staff about that. The throne room was much more pleasant during the summer without the coal braziers fogging the air. But the tension sang just as high as ever.

  He turned and made his way through the twisting hallways to the Emperor’s private office.

  “Is the unemployment situation going to become a problem?” Hirohito asked once Yamamoto was ushered into his office.

  “It is already a problem, Majesty. The nationalists seem to be following the German pattern and setting up an organization to attract the disaffected people. They have not, so far, developed a charismatic leader for the groups to coalesce around. But make no mistake, they are dangerous. Other people seem to be drifting into the Communist Party organization, and that is potentially dangerous as well.”

  “What are you doing about this?” Yamamoto noted the Emperor seemed to be getting querulous. “We saw this happen ten years ago during the economic troubles. I view that as a direct cause of the war.”

  “His Majesty is very perceptive.”

  “Please do not patronize me. I am attempting to see things as you do.”

  Yamamoto was abashed. It was rare for the Emperor to rebuke him like that directly. He wondered what pressures afflicted the Emperor. The Prime Minister quickly stood and bowed.

  “I stand corrected, your Majesty. I am guilty of being overly familiar with the throne.”

  Hirohito waved a hand. “No matter, Prime Minister. I am simply in a bad mood this morning. Things are going well; despite my uneasiness with some of your activities, I have concluded that any change of government would be dangerous and possibly disastrous. Therefore I must support the government. Have you given thought to the upcoming elections?”

  “The upcoming elections are something I ponder constantly. Several options present themselves. I believe we can no longer allow the military to select or approve the Prime Minister. The military must be subservient to the civilian government. Otherwise, they will try to destroy the nation again.”

  “I agree. I don’t believe it is commonly known how close the war brought the nation to ruin. Convincing the Army and the Navy to accept this will be difficult.”

  Yamamoto nodded in agreement but kept his face expressionless, which was a challenge in the face of the Emperor’s monumental understatement.

  “If we hold elections, I would have to convince the House of Representatives to maintain you as Prime Minister. The alternative would be to postpone elections, which I can do.”

  “Might I suggest, Majesty,” Yamamoto commented, “that we develop a plan for bringing the military under civilian control? That should help us determine how to proceed with the elections. The other problem is that I must identify myself with a political party, and that is also problematical.”

  “Because you are identified with the military?”

  “Exactly, Majesty. And I am no longer popular with a large swath of the military.”

  “Very well, then. We will think on these things.”

  Hirohito stood, indicating the meeting was over. During the ride back to his office, Yamamoto concluded that the Emperor saw no easy solutions to the problems they faced, and that made two of them.

  § § §

  May 13, 1944; 8 PM

  Conway Hall

  Conway Ethical Society

  London, England, UK

  It was unusual for Winston Churchill to attend a lecture where he was not the sole speaker. He reminded himself that although his original purpose in setting up the speaking engagements was to have a way for his benefactors to pump cash into his accounts discreetly, they desired to build a movement to restore a Conservative government to the UK. Along the way, he was caught up in the listeners' enthusiasm, which caused him to redouble his efforts in preparing the speeches.

  This evening, though, he was tasked with giving the closing lecture of a series that had begun in the morning and continued through the day. Churchill was not the only Briton who was concerned about the influence of Heinrich Schloss upon the English government. His speeches stirred up a groundswell of support for the idea that the Queen should not have given Germany something gratis, regardless of the desperate position Schloss found himself in against the Soviets. One school of thought suggested that any aid to Germany must be tied to a commitment to free the subjugated peoples of the continent.

  Others felt that while ending the war was a good thing; the country should still have as little to do with Germany as possible. Both groups were represented in the day’s seminar. Either way, Churchill was motivated to give as much careful attention to his lectures as he ever did for his speeches in parliament.

  So he mounted the stage in Conway Hall and carefully studied the crowd before beginning to speak. And it was a crowd. He cleared his throat and spoke.

  I must congratulate this assembled group upon the high level of attention maintained during this evening. Not only have the speeches been full of thoughts which have their own particular value because they have been contributed from so many angles, but also there have been successful attempts at oratory which have triumphed over the acoustic conditions which, I must tell you, are none too good and which will, I trust, be subject to development, like all the rest of our proceedings.

  As a nation we are engaged with a now apparently peaceful Germany which is in the process of creating a European unit out of a group of formerly free continental units. Herr Schloss desires we forget the deceit, the dishonor, and the betrayal we all suffered at the hands of Hitler and his minions.

  And now, Germany is faced with the onslaught of the Godless Communists who seek to impose their will over Western Europe. Britain has struggled to remain neutral in the face of continued provocation by Stalin. And yet, our honor impels us to respond to the cold-blooded murder of our diplomats in Frankfurt and Kabul. Our fair Queen Margaret has bid to assist Herr Schloss in repulsing Stalin, but in so doing has placed a dilemma before the government.

  Five ancient capitals of Europe lie under the boot of the German. A large part of this continent is held in bondage. A communist victory would exchange one merciless master for another. It is like making a long and agonizing journey to leave the North Pole only to find out that, as a result, you have woken up in the South Pole. All around are only ice and snow and bitter piercing winds.

  Then there is the question of human rights, which is the second subject set down on our agenda for this evening. We attach great importance to this, not only because of our tradition as a free people, but also because of our former allies we have abandoned to the Hun. We should certainly make some provision for association with representatives of these countries, who are deprived of ordinary democratic freedom but who will surely regain it in the long march of time.

  Churchill stepped off the platform to polite applause and returned to his chair. The event organizer stood up and made a few brief comments before politely thanking the people for their attendance. Churchill had spoken in Conway Hall on several occasions before the war. A small private club was located a block from the hall, and the former prime minister had an open invitation to visit any time he desired. He had often stopped there in the past.

  Since he had completed his day’s work, he ordered a stouter whiskey than usual. He felt he deserved to relax. As long as he could summon the coherence to take a cab back to his hotel, he would enjoy the evening.

  It was there the organizer of the event found him. He placed a thick envelope in Churchill’s hand.

  “A rather good day, Prime Minister, to be sure.”

  “With six speakers, I wondered about my share of the donations,” Churchill responded.

  “A couple of five hundred pound notes found their way into your share of the receipts, sir.”

  “Then it was a very good day. My wife will be pleased.”

  The organizer touched his eyebrow and bowed slightly before turning to leave. Churchill slipped the envelope into a coat pocket and sipped his drink. It was a good day indeed. Now, if only he could figure out a way to regain control of the government. Having the management of British foreign policy under the oversight of Clement Attlee was bad enough. But he feared that the man was looking for his first opportunity to introduce socialized medicine into the economy.

  The issue was controversial in the kingdom. Churchill feared that once something like that was adopted, it would become popular, and the British people would never escape its snares.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  May 15, 1944; 9 AM

  Reich Chancellor’s Office

  Nazi Party Headquarters

  Frankfurt, Germany

  “So you see the dilemma we are facing?” Von Rundstedt asked.

  Schloss leaned back in his chair and smiled to himself. He was now careful not to explain to his guests how wonderful the American office chair was for him. But he reminded himself that it was still a very nice chair. No one commented when Willem rolled it into the meeting room for him to use during the governing council meetings, but he was sure everyone had noticed.

  “So you are dealing with one of the generals who is aggressive and competent, but nobody likes him. Doesn’t that resemble somebody in this room?” Schloss asked, staring at Guderian.

  Heinz Guderian’s quick bark of laughter told Schloss that the shot had gone home.

  “I take your point, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Guderian said. “However, my critics were generally in the OKW. Since most of them now work for me, they are wise enough not to say anything.”

  Von Rundstedt snorted. “After the officers revolt a couple of years ago, most of the senior brass does not want to mess with Schneller Heinz, or with you for that matter, Herr Reich Chancellor.”

  “So General Schörner has not learned that lesson?” Schloss asked.

  “I don’t know,” Guderian responded. “He has always been thoroughly disagreeable. The people who work for him hate him. And those who he reports to don’t care for him, either. But he is an able administrator and a decent tactician.”

  “But Rommel is worried about him?”

  “That is essentially correct,” Von Rundstedt commented. “He recently performed well with his army in Silesia. But failure to see the big picture put him in danger of getting trapped by vastly superior forces. Rommel had to sit on him because he wasn’t listening.”

  Guderian sipped his coffee and then cleared his throat. “What complicates matters is that Schörner is advocating actions that could potentially break the Russian forces on the Oder River.”

  “So, what’s the problem?” Schloss asked.

  “The problem is that he wants to do this with four divisions. If we are going to do something like this, we will have to be smart about it, and it’s going to take a lot more than four divisions. We would have to pull in every bit of our remaining reserves and also strip forces from the front along the Oder.”

  “That sounds dangerous,” Schloss murmured.

  Guderian nodded in agreement. “Oh, it is risky. If we were to do something like that and the Russians got across the Oder River again, we probably wouldn’t stop them at Berlin.”