North Reich (6 page)

"Do that," Canfield said resignedly.
 
Marty was always writing letters to the editor, to his congressman, and anybody else who pissed him off, which was a whole lot of people.
 
He also thought FDR was a commie.

"So why are they out there, chief?

At that moment, one of the E-boat's 20mm guns opened up, the strident sawing-sounding noise caused the two men to drop to the ground.
 
A few seconds later they realized that the German wasn't shooting at them and they sheepishly got to their feet.
 
They now had a nice view of the German's stern as it turned north towards Canada.

"Okay, major, let me rephrase the question.
 
What are they doing out there and what the hell were they shooting at?"

Canfield shook the dirt from his fatigues.
 
"I think they were out there so close to our shore just to aggravate us.
 
As to their shooting, I think it was also to annoy us and maybe they were getting in a little target practice.
 
There might have been some driftwood or something that some dumb kraut thought would be good to shoot at.
 
I just hope they didn't kill someone in the water, like some poor refugee."

There had been a significant increase in the number of people leaving Canada in the last few weeks, although only a few had left by boat.
 
The border was open so they just packed up and crossed by car or bus.
 
A high percentage of them were Jews who knew what was going on in Europe and who wanted to escape that awful fate.
 
Canfield had been mildly surprised.
 
He had no idea there were so many Jews actually in Canada, or that they were so frightened.
 
So far, the Nazis had been letting anyone who wanted to leave go in peace, but how long would that continue?
 
If the Germans would shoot at someone like that Grant fellow, they must have something to hide.
 
He decided it wouldn't be long before the border was closed, and then they'd all have their hands full with refugees in boats and Germans trying to kill them.

Damn it, he thought.
 
Life was so much simpler when all he had to worry about was the Depression and people smuggling whiskey into the U.S. before prohibition was repealed.
 
Maybe the next time they drew duty, they'd make sure they had something more lethal than M1 rifles and .30 caliber machine guns to defend the State of New York from German warships.

"How's your arm, colonel?"

      
Grant winced and shifted his arm in its sling.
 
"Actually, sergeant major, it hurts a hell of a lot more now since I let the medical staff fix it."

      
Sergeant Major Mort Farnum laughed.
 
He was a short barrel of a man who'd been in the army for more than twenty years.
 
Nobody, either enlisted or officer, wanted to get on his bad side.
 
So far, Tom had done nothing to annoy the sergeant major.
 

"I'll bet they even said it was minor surgery." Farnum said.

      
Tom's arm and shoulder had continued to pain him and he finally relented and gone to a doctor.
 
In a twist of fate, he'd gotten the same Doctor Crain who'd examined his skull after the mugging.
 
Crain diagnosed a sprain and some torn muscles that were aggravated by scar tissue from the car crash and fire.
 
He'd recommended having the shoulder surgically repaired and Tom had gone along.
 
Another doctor had done the work and happily pronounced that all was well.
 
So why did his arm hurt like hell? Because it was healing, Crain said, and quit being a baby.

      
A young PFC came in carrying a pouch.
 
"This just got delivered from Camp Washington, sir," he said and gave it to Tom who signed for it.
 
He noted that it had been delivered to the Pentagon by a WAC officer, which meant that the pouch's contents couldn't be all that important.
 
He would pass it on to General Truscott, who probably would say nothing about it, which further told Tom that whatever it was wasn't very important.

      
The Pentagon might be the nerve center of the American military, but it was also one dull place.
 
Worse, there were very few women around.
 
He'd been told that the WAC who delivered the pouch was pleasant but plain and a little flat-chested, which meant that half the men in the Pentagon were in love with her.
 
Whoever said that women greatly outnumbered men in Washington must have been drinking heavily.

      
"How's the arm?" Colonel Downing asked, startling Tom.

      
"Getting better, sir.”
 
It wouldn't help to complain.
 
Nobody cared.
 
“I am curious, though, what is going on in Camp Washington that they send us these pouches?"

      
Downing shrugged.
 
"Beats me too.
 
The camp was recently declared operational and there are a couple of thousand intelligence types inside.
 
I understand they are trying to read the Nazi's minds, assuming that the Germans have minds to read.
 
Seriously, I understand they are monitoring radio transmissions within the Third Reich and even on their ships.
 
I guess they're hoping to pull pearls from the garbage."

      
"But aren't German messages coded?"

      
"The important ones are, but a lot of ordinary stuff isn't and sometimes you can figure out a lot from the trivial.
 
If some supply officer in an armored division asks for ten thousand pair of long johns, you can pretty much assume that the division is heading someplace cold."

      
"Except that in our army it might mean they were heading to warm climes, because either somebody screwed up, or they want to keep anybody who's listening, guessing."

      
Downing shook his head sadly.
 
"You're thinking too much, Tom.
 
The army doesn't like that in an officer."

Franklin Delano Roosevelt, three times President of the United States, was sixty-one years old and looked much older.
 
The thirty-second president was pale and gaunt, and a bout of polio many years earlier had left him confined to a wheelchair.
 
Everyone knew he walked with difficulty, but most didn't know it was all a charade.
 
FDR couldn't walk at all.
 
When he appeared to move through a crowd, it was because loyal aides and Secret Service agents literally picked him up by his elbows so that he sailed through the throng.
 
He appeared to be walking, but his useless feet never touched the ground.

      
The stress of the job, coupled with his failing health, were a great concern to everyone.
 
This day, however, the president was angry.
 
Normally, he was a little intimidated by General George C. Marshall and Admiral Ernest King, but not this morning.

      
FDR squinted through his reading glasses.
 
"First of all, let me genuinely commend this Major Grant on his escapade and on his safe return.
 
You will see to it that Grant gets a gold star on his forehead for his efforts.
 
However, I have to consider that the whole enterprise was ill-conceived.
 
We will never again send a field grade officer on such a mission during peacetime."

      
Marshall responded.
 
"While I did not specifically authorize the trip, I support it in hindsight.
 
We need intelligence regarding what is happening in Canada and we simply aren't getting it."

      
"But what if he had been arrested or even shot?
 
What then? His trip was a clear provocation and we are not ready for that.
 
Whether I like it or not, and I don’t, Congress has decreed that we have but one war to fight and that is against the Japanese.
 
At some time in the not too distant future, it is likely that we will be fighting Hitler, but when it happens it must be clear that Herr Adolf is the aggressor.
 
If Grant had been killed or caught, we would have had to apologize and promise to be good little boys and girls and never do it again.
 
My enemies in congress, who are also your enemies, would have had a field day."

      
Neither man needed to be reminded that congress had rebuffed FDR’s attempts to declare war on Germany after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.
 
One war at a time was the answer, and many reminded him of his campaign pledge to not send American boys off to fight foreign wars.
 
If Germany had declared war on the U.S., that would have been different, but Hitler had not cooperated.
 
For much the same reason, congress refused to allow Roosevelt to use force to expel the German army from Ontario.
 
Later, was the collective response from a majority of the members of Congress.

      
Marshall would not be put off.
 
"We need to know what is going on, sir.
 
The Germans have a sizeable and growing military force in Canada, one that is far larger than what is needed to keep Ontario in check."

      
Roosevelt glanced at the report before him.
 
"Your Grant identified six German army divisions in Canada.
 
Three divisions are regular infantry and one SS, along with two armored divisions, one regular and one SS.
 
Assuming that the units are at full strength, the total German force would be no more than a hundred and fifty thousand men and that includes support staff.
 
Your man also identified several Luftwaffe units that could easily total several hundred planes."

      
"As you said, sir," Marshall continued, "that is far more than they need to keep Ontario under their thumbs.”

      
Roosevelt sighed.
 
"Perhaps, just perhaps, they view things differently.
 
Perhaps they are concerned that we will attack and try to knock them out of North America, which is all the more reason that there should be no provocations."

      
King disagreed.
 
"I would think that shooting at Grant would be provocative on their part, but worse is the fact that their warships are cruising very close to our Lake Ontario shores.
 
I'm certain that they will shortly have armed ships in the other great lakes.
 
The Welland Canal can handle anything up to a light cruiser in size, and we wouldn't be able to respond since the Canal is in Canadian territory."

      
"If that happens we will construct our own fleet," FDR said and suddenly laughed.
 
"Didn't we do that in the war of 1812, and didn't that turn out all right?"

      
"I wouldn't want to chance that again," King replied grimly, not seeing the humor in the comment.
 
"Still, the Nazis control it and their Kriegsmarine could send destroyers, subs, and even small cruisers up the Canal and into the other Great Lakes, which would be a potential disaster.
 
And it would be a provocation in my opinion and a violation of our treaty with Canada.
 
They have no need for warships on the Great Lakes if we are not at war with each other."

      
Roosevelt rubbed his eyes.
 
"Sometimes I wish it wasn't so complicated.
 
We are at war with Japan who is at war with us and Great Britain.
 
Britain is at war with Japan, but there is an armistice between England and Germany that may or may not become a real and unwanted treaty.
 
Thus, Germany is technically still at war with England and the Soviet Union, but there is a tacit armistice between them.
 
Germany and Japan are still allies, but Germany has not declared war on us, while we are at war with Japan.
 
It's Byzantine.
 
It reminds me of Abbott and Costello's who's on first routine.
 
If it wasn't tragic, it would be laughable."

      
"And let's not forget the prisoners the Germans still hold," Marshall added somberly.
 

      
Large numbers of British and Commonwealth soldiers had fallen into German hands when the British collapsed.
 
Many thousands were interned in England and would not be released to return home until a treaty was signed.
 
If England did not go along with Germany’s wishes, hostilities would resume and England was helpless.
 
Renewed submarine warfare could result in starvation, particularly since the American navy was focused on the Pacific.

A number of other prisoners, such as those captured in North Africa, had been shipped to Germany.
 
The Germans had declined to release them since they would likely be sent to help England fight the Japanese, their erstwhile ally.