But that would worry us, she thought. She’d taken the time to study the true history of German-French relations and they hadn’t proved encouraging. France and Germany had been at loggerheads from the very first day of the Second Reich. A France armed with modern weapons – and perhaps even nukes – would be a lethal threat.
“Those terms are acceptable, with one caveat,” Gudrun said. “You may not join any outside military alliance or allow outside forces to station troops, aircraft, ships or anything else within your territory.”
The two Frenchmen exchanged glances, but neither of them looked particularly surprised by her response. Only the Americans or the British could have moved forces into France – and they had to realise that the Reich would not tolerate such a move. France would become the first battleground of the final war.
“Understood,” Ouvrard said. “Second, we demand the return of our stolen territories.”
Gudrun reminded herself, savagely, to keep her face impassive. Alsace-Lorraine was historically German, she’d been taught in school, even though it had changed hands several times in the last century. Every German schoolchild was told about French atrocities against the Germanic population… atrocities that were far outmatched by the horrors the SS had committed against almost everyone, even the Germans themselves. She could not simply abandon German territory to the French…
…And if she did, she knew Volker Schulze would renounce it as soon as she returned home.
Because the SS will turn it into a propaganda ploy, she thought, numbly. They’ll tell the Volk that the government is planning to surrender German territory… and they will be right.
It wasn’t just Alsace-Lorraine either, she knew. There was a swath of French territory – the entire western coastline – that had been annexed by the Reich. It was now dominated by hundreds of military bases and fortifications, preparations to meet an Anglo-American invasion that had never come. Much of the native population had been moved out too, when they hadn’t been quietly ‘encouraged’ to leave, and replaced by Germans. The French settlers in French North Africa had been uprooted from their homes and bitterly resented it, but they couldn’t return. There was no way she could make any territorial concessions.
“Let me be blunt,” she said. “Occupied France – and Alsace-Lorraine – have been thoroughly Germanized. The people living there are Germans. Forcing them to move will only spark off another major confrontation at the worst possible time.”
She scowled, inwardly. The vast majority of the troops in Occupied France, certainly the reservists, had homes and families there. They would not be keen to force their own people to leave, nor would they sit there quietly while outsiders did the dirty work. And the SS would be delighted to offer support to any insurrection. A major crisis in the rear would be at least as bad – perhaps worse – as going to war with France.
And the loyalty of our own military could not be taken for granted, she thought, grimly. Our entire government could disintegrate, allowing the SS to come back and take over.
“Those territories are ours,” Ouvrard insisted. “They cannot be surrendered!”
“You did surrender them,” Horst said, amused.
Gudrun gave him a sharp look as Ouvrard purpled. Horst was no more a diplomat than she was. The SS had never been about diplomacy. It rarely even bothered trying to be polite.
“That was when we lay prostrate before you,” Ouvrard said. “Now… you need us.”
Horst leaned forward. “There’s such a thing as overplaying your hand,” he said. “I concede that we need your help, but we don’t need it so badly that we’re ready to deal with the consequences of giving you what you want. If you push this too far, you may wind up with the SS on the border instead of us.”
Jacquinot smiled. “So you’re saying we should quit while we’re ahead?”
“Yes,” Horst said. “You can get some concessions from us now – and we will honour them – but you can’t get everything.”
“True,” Jacquinot said. “Fraulein, with your permission, we will write up the terms of the agreement and make them public, once they are signed. Our public needs to know that we are making progress.”
Gudrun nodded. The French economy had been hit by multiple strikes, but – unlike in the Reich – the strikers hadn’t gained any real concessions. They were growing tired of waiting for change, she’d been told. It wouldn’t be long before Jacquinot and Ouvrard found themselves on opposing sides, if they failed to put the brakes on now. A civil war in France might keep the French from causing trouble, but it would definitely interfere with the shipment of supplies to the Reich.
“That would be acceptable,” she said.
“There is one other condition,” Ouvrard said, softly. “We want the conscripted labourers returned from the Reich.”
Gudrun wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good idea or not – for France. Hans Krueger had pointed out that hundreds of thousands of Frenchmen were in Germany, Frenchmen who would have problems finding employment when they got home. Dumping so many workers onto the French economy would probably cause all sorts of headaches for the French Government, which might be why Ouvrard wanted it. But it wasn’t as if anyone in Germany wanted to keep the Gastarbeiters.
“They will be returned home,” she said, bluntly. She had no idea what would be done – if anything could be done – about the Gastarbeiters from Germany East, but that wasn’t her problem. “Do you have any other demands?”
Ouvrard smiled. “Not at all, Fraulein.”
“We thank you for coming, Fraulein,” Jacquinot said. “And we will have the terms of the provisional agreement written up now.”
“Of course,” Gudrun said.
She watched the two Frenchmen leave, then sat back and waited – doing her best to keep her face impassive – until Jacquinot returned with the provisional agreement. It was nothing more than a list of points, but it covered everything they’d discussed. She signed both copies, then passed one back to Jacquinot. The provisional government would have to hold a formal signing ceremony later, once the agreement was approved.
And there’s no reason why they won’t approve it, she thought. It gives us what we want.
As soon as both copies were signed, she rose and followed the escort out of the room, back to the car. Horst walked beside her, looking pensive. He hadn’t liked the idea of negotiating with the French at all, Gudrun knew, even though he’d seen no alternative. But then, as far as everyone was concerned, he was nothing more than her bodyguard. His objections had been strictly private.
“Well,” Horst said, as the car passed through the gates and back onto the road leading to the private airfield. “That could have gone worse, I suppose.”
“Yeah,” Gudrun said.
She wanted to hug him – they’d been lovers ever since the Reich Council had fallen – but she didn’t know if she could trust the driver. He might well be keeping an eye on her for his superiors. God alone knew what having a premarital affair would do to her reputation, now everything was up in the air. Once, it would have been harmless, as long as she’d intended to get married. Now…