‘… My old friend Erika?’ For a moment Gregory strove to persuade himself that his mind had played him some trick and that he had only imagined hearing Goering speak those words; yet he knew it had not. When they had first come face to face that evening or, if not then, a little later, some feature, mannerism or tone of voice had struck a chord in the Reichsmarschall’s memory. And that chord had resulted in no vague feeling that they had met on some previous occasion. His mention of Erika showed that he had definitely identified Gregory as the British agent whom he had been within an ace of having had shot in 1939.
Gregory was so near the door that his instinct was to dash through it. A second’s thought told him that any attempt to escape would be foredoomed to failure. Already Goering might have taken a pistol from his desk and have him covered. At best he could hope only for some desperate minutes blundering down the long corridors before he was cornered by the guards. Since, at last, he had come to the end of his tether it was better to accept defeat gracefully.
Slowly he turned on his heel and faced the monstrous figure clad in the Roman toga. Goering raised a hand with fingers the size of sausages, heavy with rings, and beckoned:
‘Come here, Englishman. I recognised you by the scar above your eyebrow, but I forget your name. What is it?’
‘Sallust,’ Gregory replied quietly, walking back to the desk and standing at attention in front of it.
‘I remember now. Before I could recall only that years ago you risked your life by coming here to ask my help because you believed Erika to have fallen into the clutches of the Gestapo.’
‘That is so, Excellency. Then you entertained me to dinner. Afterwards we spent the night making a plan to induce the Finns to refuse Russia’s demands and go to war.’
‘Jawohl, jawohl. What a lifetime away that seems. But it all comes back to me. Although our countries were at war it was in our common interest to induce the Finns to fight; and I spared your life because you had the wit to suggest a way in which that might be done.’
Gregory managed to raise a smile. ‘Although our countries are still at war it is possible that we may still have interests in common. I served you well in Finland, perhaps …’
‘No, no!’ Goering gave a harsh laugh. ‘Times have changed. Neither you nor anyone else can pull us out of the mess we are in. The game is up; and however able you may be, this time I can find no use for you.’
Already, during the past five days, Gregory had racked his brains in vain for some means of intriguing Goering into sparing him should his true identity be discovered. Now, he had made his bid and, as he had expected, having no concrete proposal to offer, it had been rejected. He began to wonder if the Reichsmarschall would have him taken out and shot at once, or give an order for him to be executed in the morning.
Goering again raised his hand. Gregory thought that he was about to press the bell on his desk to summon the guard, but the gems on it flashed as he waved it towards a chair and said, ‘Those people in the next room bore me. Sit down again and tell me about yourself. How long have you been in Germany? What have you been up to, and what did you hope to gain by masquerading as a fortune-teller?’
It was seven months since Gregory had left England and even any information that could have been extracted from him under torture was long out of date; so he had no hesitation in relating how he had been flown into Poland to collect the mechanism of a V.2 and had become stranded there.
‘What damnable luck,’ Goering commented. ‘And on account of that stupid firework, too. I always maintained that to manufacture a weapon that was as expensive as an aircraft, yet could deliver only one medium-sized bomb, was the height of idiocy; but the Führer wouldn’t listen. Instead he let that loud-mouthed little crook Goebbels build it up as a war-winner, with the result that the people no longer believe our broadcasts. When I think of the millions in money and man hours that went into that damp squib it makes me hopping mad. With the same cash and effort I could have added ten thousand ‘planes to the Luftwaffe and made the Normandy beaches present a very different picture. But go on. What happened to you then?’
Having no doubt that within eight hours at most he would be dead, Gregory took some pleasure in describing how he had killed the two S.S. men in Malacou’s cottage and disposed of their bodies, then made his way to Berlin dressed in an S.S. uniform. But, having told how he had got rid of it, he temporarily abandoned the truth in order to protect Sabine; simply saying that he had hidden for some days in an empty boathouse on the Wannsee, and during the nights broken into a number of garages until he found one with a car that had a driving licence in the locker and for which there was a good supply of petrol. To that he had only to add that the licence had happened to be that of Prince Hugo von Wittlsebach zu Amberg-Sulzheim to return to a true account of all that had since befallen him.
Goering listened to all this with interest and, at times, amusement; but when Gregory spoke of the success that Malacou had had while at Sachsenhausen in predicting the future, the Reichsmarschall frowned and said, ‘Surely that was no more than intelligent guesswork. For a long time past I could have foretold the way things would go for Germany and been right in all but minor matters.’
‘No doubt,’ Gregory agreed. ‘But you had all the information available to go on, whereas Malacou, cooped up as he was in a concentration camp, had nothing other than rumours and news that was often weeks old. Even you could not have foreseen that the British airborne landings at Arnhem would prove a failure.’
‘Oh yes I could. Montgomery’s successes have been due mainly to his extreme caution and being backed by overwhelming air power; but for once he stuck his neck out. It was clear to us that he had allowed the airborne forces to be put down too far ahead for them to be supported by his armour, since it had to advance along a road that our artillery was able to enfilade from both sides.’
‘Perhaps. But remember, you had the battle maps showing the dispositions of the opposing forces to judge from; whereas Malacou had nothing. And the Ardennes offensive. How could he possibly have known in adance about that by any ordinary means?’
‘No; well, possibly you are right. Do you really believe what he said about May being the critical month for Germany, with us Nazi leaders at one another’s throats and some of us trying to negotiate a peace?’
‘I certainly do.’
Goering gave a heavy sigh. ‘I would to God we could get peace tomorrow. We are finished. There is no way out. Nothing to be done. The nation is dead already but, still animated by the will of the Führer, refuses to lie down. And to think that we had the game in our hands; the whole world for the taking, in 1941.’
‘You still had Britain against you, and the people were solid behind Churchill. We should never have given in.’
‘In the end you would have been forced to,’ Goering replied with a bitter laugh. ‘That is, if I’d had my way. You and I know that the real danger to the civilisation of the Western World is Communism—or, to give it another name, Soviet Russia. But Russia could wait. She would not have dared attack us, so we ought first to have devoted our entire energies to putting an end to the Government systems in other countries that tolerated Communist Parties within them. We had already made ourselves the masters of Austria, Czechoslovakia, half Poland, Denmark, Norway, Holland, Belgium, France, Yugoslovia and Greece. Italy, Spain, Rumania, Portugal and Finland already had Governments that had made Communism illegal. Sweden and Switzerland could have given us no trouble. In Europe only Britain remained as the refuge of our real enemies, who continue to take advantage there of your outworn custom of affording asylum to anarchists, saboteurs and revolutionaries. If Germany had not dissipated two thirds of her strength by invading Russia, we could have brought such weight to bear on Britain that she would have found herself compelled to accept our terms and become our ally in a war to destroy the Soviets.’
‘I doubt it, Excellency. And what of the United States?’
‘The Yanks, eh?’ Goering gave a great bellow of laughter. ‘Surely you are too intelligent to share the belief common among Englishmen that the top Americans are really the friends of Britain? Under a screen of good will their State Department never ceases to work for the disruption of your Empire. They care only for making money, and in the markets of the world Britain is still their most formidable rival. For all their vaunted democracy, did they rush to help Britain and France in 1939? Certainly not. They sat back smugly watching their greatest trade competitors exhaust themselves.’
‘That is by no means fair. By bringing in Lease-Lend, President Roosevelt gave Britain invaluable assistance.’
‘But not until Britain had pawned her shirt; so could no longer find the money to pay for further armaments. Lease-Lend, my friend, was a shrewd move to enable Britain to continue the fight and so further exhaust herself. And even then the Americans got their pound of flesh for it—fifty obsolete destroyers in exchange for a lease of British possessions in the West Indies. Believe me, had it not been for the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour the United States would have remained neutral to the end. It was Pearl Harbour which gave Churchill his opportunity to force her hand; and that clever old devil seized upon it. Within the hour he declared Britain to be America’s ally in her war against the Japs. After that how could the Americans refuse to reciprocate by declaring war on Germany? But if Churchill trusts Roosevelt he’s more of a fool than I take him for. When it comes to making the peace those American money-grubbers who behind your backs always refer to you as ‘the bloody British’ will do you down and bring about the dissolution of your Empire.’
While listening to the views of such a shrewd and well-informed man as the Reichsmarschall, Gregory’s fears for himself were momentarily forgotten and he said, ‘You are convinced, then, that had Germany played her cards rightly in 1941 she would now be the master of the whole of Europe?’
‘I’ve not a doubt of it; and of Africa as well. That is, had my advice been followed. Again and again I urged the Führer to let Russia wait and, with or without Franco’s consent, go into Spain. We could have closed the Mediterranean at the Straits of Gibraltar and cut off the British Army in Egypt; leaving it to rot, as did the Army of Napoleon there after Nelson had cut its lifeline by the Battle of the Nile.’
‘After Italy came in, it was in any case virtually cut off for a long period; but we succeeded in supplying and reinforcing it by the long route round the Cape.’
Goering laughed. ‘Do you think that having got as far as Gibraltar we should have stopped there? In ’41 the French saw no hope for themselves except by collaborating with us. They believed Britain to be finished, so would have given us a free hand in North Africa, and in Equatorial Africa too. From there it is a short step to the Belgian Congo. Then we would have launched a Blitzkreig against South Africa. The handful of aircraft there would have been helpless against the Luftwaffe. A few nights’ bombing of Johannesburg and Cape Town would have forced the South Africans to give in. Look now at the strategic picture that would have resulted. With our U-boats and aircraft operating from bases in Northern Spain, Portugal, Gibraltar, Morocco, the Canaries, West Africa, St. Helena and South Africa, we could have made it impossible for you to send convoys round the Cape. With her army in Egypt stranded and all supplies to Britain from Africa, Asia and Australasia cut off, how could Britain possibly have refused to accept the reasonable terms we would then have offered her?’
There could be no doubt that Goering’s great strategic conception had been the right one for Germany and, while Gregory still believed that if Britain had been in extremis the United States would have come to her aid, he said with a wry smile, ‘I can only thank God that Your Excellency’s advice was not taken. No part of Africa could have offered any prolonged resistance against the might and organising ability of Germany, and you could have had the whole continent for only half the effort that was put into the attempt to conquer Russia.’
‘You’re right!’ Goering sighed. ‘Yet even that false move need not have proved so utterly disastrous if the Generals had been listened to. We could still have fought the Russians to a standstill on a line along the Vistula and the Carpathians down to the mouth of the Danube, and so kept them out of Western Europe, had it not been for the Führer’s obsessions about holding every foot of ground, and the Jews.’
‘The Jews?’ Gregory echoed in surprise. ‘What had they to do with it?’
The Reichsmarschall shrugged and adjusted the laurel wreath on his head, which had slipped a little. ‘I suppose you could not be expected to realise it, but it is the Jewish question that has bedevilled our entire strategy for the past year. At least you must be aware that Himmler’s one aim in life is the complete elimination of the Jewish race, and that the Führer wholeheartedly supports him in his endeavours to achieve it.’
‘I know that in Poland they were murdered by the million and that, since then, hundreds of thousands more of them have been collected from all over Europe to be driven into gas chambers.’
‘Yes, poor devils. They are not my favourite people, but many of them were intelligent and useful citizens and there was nothing to be gained by their wholesale slaughter. On the contrary, it has robbed Speer and the Todt Works Organisation of a great reservoir of slave labour. Far worse, Himmler’s policy of “the ultimate solution”, as it is called, has led to a great part of the Army being diverted from the job it should be doing.’
‘Surely you cannot mean that the S.S. have found the job of rounding up the Jews too much for them, and have had to call on the Army for help?’
‘Not precisely; but that’s what it amounts to. Even after the loss of von Paulus’s Army outside Stalingrad, and our Northern Army that became bottled up in Courland because the Führer refused to allow it to withdraw, we still had ample troops to fight a defensive war successfully. But when Rumania showed signs of collapse the Führer insisted that the front there must be held long enough to get the Jews out to Germany, so that they could be executed. The result was that another sixteen of our Divisions were encircled and destroyed. The line of the Carpathians was lost and a great gap torn in our south-eastern front. To fill it an Army was moved from Warsaw and its withdrawal so weakened our all-important Russian front that it caved in.
‘And this madness about putting the killing of Jews before all other considerations continues. We had nothing to gain by going into Hungary. Up till last spring the Hungarians observed a favourable neutrality towards us and acceded to all our requests for supplies and volunteer Divisions to help fight the Russians. But there were seven hundred thousand Jews there and the Hungarians refused to have them murdered; so Himmler got permission to send in his Waffen S.S. troops to do the job, instead of their being employed on a battle front. Rounding up and eliminating such hordes of Jews takes time; so half of them are still alive. The thought that they might be saved by the arrival of the Russians in Budapest sent the Führer berserk. Rather than let them escape he has transferred yet another German Army from our vital Central front to Hungary with orders to hang on there whatever the odds against it, until Himmler’s man, Eichmann, has administered “the ultimate solution” to the remainder of the Jews.’
That Hitler’s demand that every yard of conquered ground should be held had led to immense losses of German troops by encirclement was now common knowledge; but that his disastrous strategy had been dominated largely by his obsession to eliminate the Jews was a revelation to Gregory. After a moment he said:
‘Had anyone other than yourself told me this, Herr Reichsmarschall, I would not have credited it. But, of course, you know the facts. And how extraordinary it is that indirectly the Führer’s persecution of the Jews should have played so large a part in Germany’s defeat. One cannot help seeing in that the hand of fate.’
‘Perhaps.’ Goering shrugged his great shoulders. ‘Anyhow, that’s the way things are. This last attempt to hold Hungary is bound to fail. Instead we should have withdrawn our southeastern Armies to the Bavarian Alps. And the price to be paid for having weakened our northern front will be to have the Russians in Berlin. I’ve had a grand life while it lasted so I’ll have no complaints when my time comes; but you and I both know that the game is up. We are finished; all of us.’
As the modern Nero ceased speaking he pressed the bell on his desk. Gregory’s muscles tensed. He felt certain that during the past ten minutes the Reichsmarschall had been only relieving his feelings by criticising the Führer to him in a way that he still dared not do even to his personal friends, and that this was the summons for the guard to take the man to whom he had been blowing off steam away to face a firing squad. But when a footman appeared in the doorway, Goering said only, ‘Bring champagne.’
Gregory tried not to show his relief. Although he knew that the postponement of his execution could be only temporary, the idea of buoying himself up with a few glasses of good wine before he had to meet his end was most acceptable. To keep the conversation going, he remarked:
‘Could the Generals do nothing to persuade the Führer that many of his decisions would lead only to defeat?’
Goering’s big belly shook as he sat back from his desk and roared with laughter. ‘The Generals! Gott im Himmel, no! From the beginning the Führer has paid little heed to what they had to say. And since the July Putsch he would sooner take advice from his woman vegetarian cook. He is convinced that every one of them is a traitor. He doesn’t trust even that time-serving toady Keitel. It is Martin Bormann who rules the roost today.
‘Bormann is a cunning devil if ever there was one. He poses as the humble secretary whose only thought is to take work off his master’s shoulders; but he has a finger in every pie. Not even I can get in to see the Führer now without Bormann being present and poisoning the Führer’s mind against me afterwards. What is more, as Party manager he controls the Gauleiters and under him they are now absolute rulers in their territories. Even an Army Commander’s authority is restricted to within five miles behind the front on which his troops are fighting. At times the Gauleiters even divert and commandeer for their own use trains of supplies intended for the troops. But the protests of the Generals go unheeded.’
‘How fantastic,’ Gregory murmured.
At that moment the footman brought in a magnum of Krug in an ice-bucket, and glasses. When he had poured the wine, both Goering and Gregory took a long drink. Then the Reichsmarschall went on. ‘But that’s not the worst the Generals have had to put up with. They are now being overlaid by Himmler’s vast private army.’
‘The term “vast” may apply to the Waffen S.S. but I should not have thought that in quality it could compare with the regular army.’
‘You are out of date, my friend. Contrary to the belief of her enemies, during four and a half years of conflict Germany had not become geared for total war. Right up to last summer there were still hundreds of thousands of young, able-bodied men who continued to enjoy a protected status as Civil Servants, actors, authors, artists, agriculturists, bank clerks, railwaymen, and in a score of other occupations. Then came the Normandy landings and Goebbels persuaded the Führer to order a levée en masse. Within a few weeks a million men were winkled out and called up to form what became known as the Replacement Army. But the Generals were not given control of it, because after the bomb plot the Führer openly proclaimed them to be his enemies. He gave the command to der treue Heinrich, as he affectionately calls Himmler; and, at the same time, permission to increase his Waffen S.S. without limit by any means he could devise.’
Goering took another long drink of champagne and added, ‘Himmler’s ambition for power is boundless. Naturally, he drafted the pick of the recruits into his Waffen S.S., and left only the duds for the Army. While he was at it Goebbels scraped the bottom of the barrel; so it may surprise you to hear that the Wehrmacht now has units composed entirely of men who are deaf, others of men suffering from stomach ulcers who have to have a special diet, and others again of epileptics and old dug-outs of over sixty.’
‘Surely such troops are a liability rather than an asset?’ Gregory remarked.
‘Of course they are. They were roped in only on Himmler’s insistence. His object was to swell the numbers of the men that could be allocated to the Army, so that when the Generals protested to the Führer he could be persuaded that they had had their fair share of recruits. Meanwhile, that little swine Goebbels had induced the Führer to order me to release half a million men from the ground staffs of my Luftwaffe stations.’
At the memory the Reichsmarschall’s fat face turned almost purple. Quickly, Gregory refilled his glass and handed it to him. He took a gulp of wine then spluttered, ‘Those … those are the fine fellows who are now being sent to die in Hungary, so that more Jews can be exterminated before the curtain comes down. Nine-tenths of them, and the greater part of all that was left of our German youth, have been enrolled in the Waffen S.S. Not content with that, Himmler for once scrapped his race-purity obsession in order to get another half million men under his command. He made honorary Aryans of Bulgarians, Albanians, Slovenes, Hungarians and even Russians. His S.S. Leaders combed the prisoner-of-war camps for anyone and everyone who preferred to put on a Nazi uniform rather than starve to death. To that he added French, Belgian, Dutch, Norwegian and Latvian collaborators by the thousand; so now his private Army numbers scores of Divisions and is nearly as big as the Wehrmacht. That’s why the Führer could not refuse him the command of an Army Group.’
‘What!’ Gregory exclaimed. ‘Himmler an Army Group Commander! But he can know nothing about soldiering.’
‘Not a thing. But the greater part of the Wehrmacht’s armoured divisions had been lost in Russia and in Normandy. The best we had left were the new ones created for the Waffen S.S. by Sepp Dietrich; and he is a good soldier even if he did start his career as the Führer’s chauffeur. They had to be used as the spearhead of the Ardennes offensive, and as they were Himmler’s troops he claimed the right to command the whole sector. Von Rundstedt would not stand for that and the Führer had to give way to him; so Himmler was bought off by being given command of the neighbouring Army Group, covering the sector between the Ardennes and the Swiss frontier.’
Once more Gregory was so intrigued that he had temporarily forgotten that he was talking to a man who, as soon as he tired of giving vent to his bitterness and rancour, would have him shot; and he asked, ‘What sort of showing did Himmler make as a General?’
Goering shrugged. ‘He proved not only helplessly incompetent himself, but has continued to be a menace to the success of all the other Army Commanders. You see, Commanders of S.S. divisions that are allotted to Army Groups come under Wehrmacht Generals only for operations, not for discipline; so they owe allegiance only to their own chiefs, the Obergruppenführers and, of course, to Himmler as their Supreme Commander. In consequence, being given an Army Group did not deprive Himmler of the power to interfere on all the other fronts on which Waffen S.S. divisions were employed.
‘Sepp Dietrich did a splendid job with his armour in breaking through the Ardennes front. Had he been properly supported he might have reached Antwerp and delayed the Allied advance for several months. But the offensive failed for two reasons. The divisions from the Replacement Army given to von Rundstedt to follow up the attack were of such poor quality that they were not up to the task; and when he asked Himmler to release some of his S.S. Divisions from the neighbouring front to support the armour, Himmler refused. Instead he despatched his reserve divisions to Hungary, in another effort to prevent the Russians from capturing Budapest before all the Jews there could be killed off. There you have our tragedy: the units of two separate armies mixed up on every front, with the Generals of both hating the others, bitterly jealous and refusing to co-operate.’
Gregory shook his head. ‘I had no idea of this. It must render all planning hopeless, and in such chaotic conditions I marvel that Germany is still able to maintain any front at all.’
‘Planning!’ Goering gave a cynical laugh. ‘There is none. Each General is fighting only a local battle to stave off defeat. None of them knows what is happening to his neighbours, because they are forbidden to communicate in case they get together and decide to lay down their arms. The Führer sitting in his bunker in Berlin not only decrees the major moves but also directs everything, even down to the movement of battalions, with only the vaguest idea of what is really happening in the battle areas. Quite frequently he orders new units of the Replacement Army to proceed to places that have been overrun by the enemy a week or more before.’
‘That makes it all the more amazing that there has not been a general collapse.’
‘Two factors account for that: the Wehrmacht Generals now ignore all the Führer’s more idiotic orders, and the dogged determination of our soldiers to protect their homeland. We Germans and you British are the finest fighting men in the world, both in victory and defeat. But the Führer’s distrust of the Generals and his fanatical belief that he can direct the war better than any of them has brought us to this shocking pass.’
‘Could you not have persuaded him to see sense,’ Gregory asked. ‘After all, you are Nazi No. 2 and his appointed successor. Surely you must have great influence with him.’
Goering sighed. ‘In the old days I had; but now he is barely civil to me. And that goes for the German people, too. They used to call me “fat Hermann”, and they loved me. Now they blame me for the failure of the Luftwaffe and curse my name when the bombs come crashing down. That is my personal tragedy and my heart bleeds for my gallant airmen. Today they are humiliated and stigmatised as cowards. But it is no fault of theirs or mine that the Allies have driven the Luftwaffe from the skies.
‘Dominance in the air is largely a gamble on which nation has the latest machine in operation when a war breaks out. It was no thanks to your Government, but because Lady Houston gave her millions to the development of fighter aircraft, that you had your Hurricanes and Spitfires operational in 1939. Had the war broken out a year later, we would have had a better type of Messerchmitt and you would have lost the Battle of Britain. But even then it was not too late. I could still have beaten the Allies in the air, or at least have prevented the bombing of our German cities later in the war, had I been allowed to manufacture our new types in sufficient numbers. Instead the fools hamstrung the Luftwaffe by diverting irreplaceable technicians and vast quantities of precious materials to the making of the V.1’s and V.2’s.’
After emptying his glass again, the Reichsmarschall said bitterly, ‘Well, now you know how things really are with us. That’s why you find me amusing myself by dressing up like this and fiddling while Rome is burning, instead of ordering such squadrons of the Luftwaffe as are still serviceable into battle. They have to continue to make sorties, of course; but since I realised that our situation had become hopeless I’ve been trying to conserve the lives of as many of my boys as I can. The awful thing is that unless the Führer ordains otherwise this desperate last-ditch resistance may go on for months yet. I would to God that we could end it tomorrow, but I’m thoroughly discredited and there is nothing I can do.’
‘About that I don’t agree,’ said Gregory firmly. ‘You still possess immense powers, and your Luftwaffe troops would obey your orders. Since the Führer will not listen to reason and is clearly mad, you could surround his headquarters with your men, arrest him and, if need be, shoot him; then take over and ask for an armistice.’
Suddenly the elephantine figure behind the desk lurched forward. With eyes blazing, Goering brought his huge fist crashing down on the desk and bellowed, ‘Lieber Gott! For suggesting that I’ve a mind to have you shot.’
Gregory’s mouth fell open. Before he could stop himself, he exclaimed, ‘But … but, aren’t you going to have me shot anyway?’
With the same suddenness as had marked his outburst, the Reichsmarschall sat back, relaxed and shook his head. ‘No. Why should I? You’re a brave man, Sallust, and I like brave men. What is it to me now that you happen to be a British spy? God knows, I’ve enough blood on my conscience already. Men and women are dying by the thousand while we sit here. Why should I add yet another corpse to this senseless carnage?’
So certain had Gregory been that he was living through his last hours that it took a long moment for him to adjust his mind to this utterly unexpected reprieve. His face went whiter from relief than it would have done had the guards arrived to lead him off to execution. Then he swallowed hard and stammered:
‘For … for giving me my life, Herr Reichsmarschall … well, I can’t find words to thank you adequately. All I can say is that had our positions been reversed I would have acted in the same way towards you.’
Goering nodded. ‘Yes, I believe you would. But never again suggest that I play the traitor. All of us know that the Führer is mad and has brought about Germany’s ruin. But, all the same, he had the touch of genius. There is not an iota of truth in those stories that he was no more than a brilliant orator that the rest of us made use of as a figurehead. When he came to power Germany had eight million unemployed. It was his brains and courage that saved her from Communism, brought her back to prosperity and gave her again a place in the first rank among the nations. Had he refrained from resorting to war and from persecuting the Jews, he would have gone down in history as a great ruler. We others were no more than his servants and we obtained wealth and power in his shadow. Others may betray him, but I never will.’
‘I appreciate your point of view,’ Gregory said seriously, ‘and your sentiments do you honour. All the more so since you have given me to understand that for some time past the Führer has treated you with little consideration.’
‘That is hardly surprising in view of the failure of the Luftwaffe. He constantly rails at it and throws its failure in my teeth. What does surprise me is that he has not deposed me as his successor in the event of his death. Himmler, Goebbels, Ribbentrop and Bormann never cease from endeavouring to bring that about; but he won’t listen to them. It may be that because I did more than anyone to gain support for him in the days of his struggle he still feels a certain loyalty towards me. But I’m inclined to think the real reason why he is reluctant to disgrace me publicly is that, if he ever did decide to throw in his hand, he believes that the Anglo-Americans would be more willing to negotiate terms with me than with any other of the Nazi leaders.’
‘In that I’m sure you’re right. Himmler and Goebbels are loathed, Ribbentrop despised and the name of Bormann is hardly known. Whereas there was a time when, owing to your exploits as an air ace in the First World War, many people in England looked on you as rather a glamorous figure; and even today none of the odium about lying propaganda, concentration camps or the persecution of the Jews attaches to you.’
Taking the magnum from the ice-bucket, the Reichsmarschall again refilled their glasses; then he said, ‘Talking of England, you have not yet told me about Erika. Is she still in love with you?’
‘It is seven months since I have seen her in the flesh,’ Gregory replied. ‘But I’ve not the least reason to doubt that her devotion to me still equals mine to her. Years ago we made up our minds to marry as soon as she could get free of von Osterberg, but that was impossible as long as the war lasted and he remained alive. I … well, I heard a rumour that he was involved in the July plot and that when the Gestapo came to arrest him he committed suicide. Do you happen to know if that is true?’
Gregory had spoken casually but his heart was hammering as he waited for Goering’s answer. After a moment it came. ‘I do remember hearing something of the kind, but I’ve an idea that he survived. It has been no easy matter to keep track of what happened to all the people who disappeared after the plot. Between August and the end of the year over three thousand men and women were executed for treason, and thousands more were carted off to concentration camps. The Führer’s fury knew no bounds and he ordered that no mercy should be shown to any blood relative of those involved. He even signed the death warrant of his favourite General, Rommel, merely on suspicion that he had been implicated.’
‘What a terrible thing to do.’
‘Yes. Rommel was at his home, recuperating from wounds received when the car he was in was bombed in Normandy. The Führer sent his adjutant, Chief of Army Personnel, General Burgdorf, to him with a phial of poison and an ultimatum. He was given the choice of taking the poison or having his whole family put through the mill; so, of course, he took the poison.’
‘God help us! And after the brilliant show he put up in the Western Desert. Such treatment of a national hero is almost unbelievable.’
‘Oh, they gave him a hero’s funeral, with laudatory orations and all the rest of it,’ Goering replied with a cynical chuckle. ‘But reverting to von Osterberg. If he was in hospital with a self-inflicted wound he would have escaped the initial massacre, and as he was one of the king-pin scientists in the Secret Weapon racket, it’s quite probable that when he came out Himmler decided that he was worth more alive than dead. I’ve certainly an idea that someone told me he had seen him recently. Tell me more about Erika, though. What is she doing?’
‘She’s running a hospital for R.A.F. wounded. At least, she is responsible for the non-medical staff, rations, entertainments and general administration.’
‘She would do that well, for she had brains as well as looks. Gott im Himmel, what a woman! In Munich, in the old days, the help she gave me was invaluable. And what beauty! Her only rival in all Germany was Marlene Dietrich and they might easily have been sisters. What a lucky fellow you are to have gained her love. But that is another reason for my giving you my protection. It would be ungrateful of me to deprive her of you. I did my utmost for her to save Hugo Falkenstein. I could have, had he not been so proud and courageous; but he stood up to the Führer in defence of his people and so signed his own death warrant. Erika never forgave us his death and went over to the enemy. That was a bad day for all her friends and those of us who loved her. I suppose that in order to do this hospital job she has had to take British nationality?’
Gregory shook his head. ‘No. She declares that only cowards rat on their own country in the middle of a war. By rights she should be in a concentration camp as an enemy alien. But the big country house which has been turned into a hospital, where she works, is owned by a friend of ours, Sir Pellinore Gwaine-Cust. He has great influence with the Government and has gone surety for her. She has agreed that if she can become my wife she will regard Britain as her country; but until then, having been born a German she will remain a German.’
‘Ah, how like her!’ Goering smiled. ‘Clever, brave, beautiful and a true patriot. Well, I only wish that I could send you back to her. But that is out of the question. Still, there is room and to spare in this lovely home that I have made. You can remain here as my guest; anyway, until those accursed Russians overrun and pillage it of my treasures. For you the war is over. You have only to kill time as best you can until the final collapse. That applies too, of course, to the man you brought with you. The two of you can amuse yourselves consulting the stars and drawing horoscopes.’
Gregory smiled back. ‘Herr Reichsmarschall, I am more grateful than I can say for your clemency and kindness. If I succeed in getting back to Erika and tell her of this she, too, will always bless your name. I only wish, though, instead of idling here for the next few months I could be of some use. I mean, play even a small part in bringing about the cessation of hostilities.’
For a long moment Goering remained silent. Then his eyes lit up and he leaned forward. ‘Teufel nochmal! I believe you might if we played our cards cleverly. The Führer will listen to no-one these days except the astrologers and fake magicians with whom he surrounds himself. Their predictions are the one thing which can still influence his decisions. Gott im Himmel! This is an idea! Stupendous! Kolossal! I’ll make him a present of you and your Turkish mountebank.’