The new president stepped to the doorway and grabbed a couple of Secret Service agents. He told them in no uncertain terms that no one else was to be allowed in and that office workers were to leave the adjacent area. He had no idea if people outside the office could hear their conversations and did not wish to find out.
He returned to his desk, the same one used by Teddy Roosevelt and built from a British warship of the past century. He managed a wan smile. “Shall we have tea and cakes while we discuss war?”
Navy Secretary Daniels made a rare small joke. “At least there’s no alcohol involved.” Josephus Daniels had raised a storm of controversy by banning alcoholic beverages from the Navy’s ships.
Daniels continued. “I must add a piece of information that only now makes sense. About two months ago, a very large German naval squadron left Wilhelmshaven in Germany, and steamed to their base in Cam Ranh Bay, in Indo-Chinese waters recently acquired from France as war booty. Assuming that the German Army does attack, I believe this powerful fleet might just appear off the California coast to assist it. If the Kaiser’s army is to invade on a particular date, the German naval force could easily plan to arrive off our cities on that same date.”
Lansing took a deep breath, “How large a fleet?”
“At least ten modern capital ships and a dozen or so cruisers and destroyers.”
“And our forces are much weaker,” said Admiral Coontz, “And not just in the Pacific.”
A reluctant Coontz had been in charge of enforcing the peace economies mandated by Woodrow Wilson. A number of warships had been decommissioned and were awaiting sale as scrap, and several naval bases had been closed. March added that a number of coastal forts run by the Army’s Coast Artillery Corps were in bad shape. These had been designed to protect major ports but were now mere skeletons. Part of the rationale for closing them was the fact that they were very vulnerable to attack by airplanes. Intelligence said that the Germans had a large but unknown number of fighters and bombers in Mexico, while the US had perhaps a dozen obsolescent British warplanes in California.
Statistically, the United States had the third largest navy in the world, but Germany was far ahead of her in second place. Great Britain’s Royal Navy was alone in first place, but a number of her ships were crewless and rusting in port as a result of peace treaty obligations.
“As of this moment,” Coontz continued, “our entire battle force consists of seven modern battleships and eight older ones. However, only three modern capital ships are at Mare Island on the west coast: the Nevada, Arizona, and Pennsylvania, and only the Arizona is ready for sea. The other two only have skeleton crews and will be obvious targets of the German fleet. The three older ships, the Kansas, Minnesota, and Michigan are already at less than half strength and would be useless in a battle with modern ships should the Germans attack Mare Island. I propose moving them to our base in Puget Sound. The base is far into the narrow waters of the Sound which should protect them. Also, the Sound is jointly held by us and Great Britain, which might deter a German attack.”
Lansing rubbed his eyes. “Then for God’s sake get the Arizona out of harm’s way immediately and get the others underway as quickly as possible along with anything else that can float. Yes, send them north to Puget Sound as soon as you can. I believe we can send ships out to sea without frightening anyone.”
The president stood. Every muscle in his body was tensing and he needed to stretch. “Admiral Coontz, what about the Marine Corps?”
“Approximately fourteen thousand men are scattered all over the world. Some are guarding embassies, some are maintaining discipline on what ships are now active, and others are in a variety of posts. We could likely organize a couple of regiments out of troops currently stateside. I will direct General Lejeune to commence immediately.”
“Jesus wept,” Lansing said. “Is there any good news at all?”
“Yes,” said Baker, smiling grimly, “these little cakes are really quite good.”
German tourists and travelers were not unusual along the railroad lines that ran east from California. This group of six men had arrived in San Francisco by ship the week before and had arranged train passage to St. Louis and then on to Cincinnati. When asked, they assured the curious that they had families in those cities large German communities and were going to join them.
When asked why they hadn’t landed in New York, they’d explained that they’d been working as civilians at the German naval base in China. Questions were few. Frankly, nobody much cared.
Klaus Wulfram was their leader and a captain in the Imperial German Army. He was an engineer. His specialty was blowing things up, and his hobby was mountain climbing. The others were good climbers and excellent demolitions men as well. After getting his group organized, they proceeded to make a number of purchases: Cold weather clothing, rifles and pistols, ammunition, dynamite and detonator caps, electric wiring, and plungers to set off the dynamite. They purchased these in small amounts and aroused no suspicions.
Away from the coast, they changed their story. Now they were mining engineers headed into the mountains to find leftover traces of gold and other minerals for investors out east. Again, nobody noticed or cared, because it wasn’t at all unusual. People were always looking for unfound remnants of the Gold Rush of 1849, or perhaps even a new mother lode. Local Californians shrugged and smiled at the new treasure hunters, wished them luck, and privately thought they were insane.
One storeowner allowed that there had been a number of young German men coming into California recently. He’d been told that they were students researching the history of Spanish missions. Wulfram had smiled in what he hoped was an engaging manner. He said that California was such a lovely state and had such potential that there might soon be many more Germans entering the area. He did not add that they would be part of the German Army.
After adding horses and mules to their party, the Germans headed east. The weapons they carried excited no curiosity. After all, they were going into the rugged mountains where bad people and the shattered remnants of the Indian community still roamed and wouldn’t hesitate to steal or even kill if they saw weakness.
The Sierra Nevada range was the first they saw. It was impressive but the Rockies beyond awed them with their immensity and their grandeur. Wulfram had seen and climbed the Alps and considered the Rockies to be even more impressive. He ached for the chance to climb these new challenges. The soldier in him recognized the obvious—given the right circumstances, the mountain ranges could be a virtually impregnable barrier to an army advancing from the east. It was his job to begin that process.
Wulfram found it tempting to dwell on the mountains’ majesty, but he had his duty. Where others saw beauty, he saw trestles, bridges, and vulnerability. Only a half dozen rail lines connected California with the rest of the United States and they all ran through the mountain passes that were already filling with snow. His task, and that of the other teams he knew to be searching the other passes, was to destroy those trestles and bridges and sever the connection between California and the rest of the United States.
Whatever they destroyed could be rebuilt but, with the weather turning bad, Wulfram knew that reconstruction would not even begin for a number of months. By that time it would be too late.
As Wulfram and his men headed east through the mountains, they blew up trestles and bridges with cold efficiency. The first was a small bridge that let them test their skills. The explosion was loud and the bridge crumpled and dropped into a creek, a total ruin, as Wulfram’s men cheered. Better, they had used their limited supply of dynamite sparingly and skillfully. Wulfram was not a murderer, so he left a warning in plain sight that the bridge was out. As they continued their work, he continued to leave signs. He hoped the American engineers driving the trains would get the message. He also hoped no train would come from the east without first seeing that something was terribly wrong.