Churchill nodded by way of agreement.
Standing, the Prime Minister indicated that the meeting was over and that his drive to get moving had taken over.
“I will inform the President immediately. Thank you for bringing this to me in timely fashion, Sir Stewart.”
“My pleasure. Thank you, Sir.”
By magic, the door opened and Inches appeared.
“Sir, an urgent message has just arrived from the Foreign Minister’s office.”
Churchill and Menzies exchanged smiles.
Inches waited, expecting the head of MI-6 to leave, but Sir Stewart held his ground as Churchill tore open the envelope with undisguised anticipation.
After a moment’s silence, he looked up with a beaming smile and nodded, confirming its contents to the spymaster.
“Thank you again, Sir Stewart. Inches, please see Sir Stewart out and have my appointments for this afternoon cleared between three and four.”
As he moved into the hall beyond, Menzies caught the words, knowing they were as much for him as Inches.
Picking up the telephone, Churchill arranged for a line that connected him directly to Truman.
He calculated that the time in Washington was just after five in the morning and prepared an apology for waking up his American friend.
The apology was unnecessary.
Tørget had sent a message to his own American contact, Sam Rossiter, who, in turn, had given his boss the heads-up.
Major General William Donovan, head of the OSS, had woken Truman some thirty-two minutes before Churchill’s call disturbed the President’s train of thought.
“Mr President… apologies for the early morning call. I have some news that simply couldn’t wait.”
“I was just about to ring you, Prime Minister. You have the same news as I, I don’t doubt. It seems that our Swedish friends have pulled one out of the hat.”
“Yes, Harry. Can I assume you know the other bit?”
“You certainly can, Winston.”
“So how do you wish to proceed, Harry?”
“Well, I’m going to be on the first flight I can get organised after I’ve met with the Swedish ambassador. I assume you will be seeing the ambassador in London?”
A negative noise stopped Truman’s flow.
“No, Harry, he’s forced himself into my afternoon schedule at Chequers.”
“When is that?”
“Three o’clock.”
“Ten o’clock here. Coordinated delivery. So, I think we meet up in Versailles… apprise the leaders… I’m thinking De Gaulle, Franco, your Dominion leaders, as tight a group as possible.”
“Speer?”
“Don’t suppose we have a choice on that one, do we?”
“I don’t think we do, Harry.”
“So, we get them all in a small room and tell them… and tell them they can’t talk about it to anyone… and then politicians being politicians, the whole shooting-match is through their delegations within the hour, and probably in the press within the day.”
“I understand that only too well, Harry, but we have no choice in the matter. We cannot exclude our major Allies, otherwise the new alliance, for which we striven so hard, will be placed at risk.”
“You’re right, but I still have an itch about the Germans.”
“We have no choice, as I see it. After all, if we’re to take advantage of this, we need them to know the full situation, which will also encourage them to give operations their fullest commitment.”
“Operations, Winston?”
“Harry, we have to. The Soviets are weak and vulnerable… coming to the table has revealed that, as we know that they, not the Swedish, have commenced this process. Something we have done has precipitated this. We must find out what it is and exploit it fully. Clearly, General Eisenhower and his staff must be consulted and, equally clearly, some of them will be included in the circle that know the full situation, but we simply cannot pass up on the opportunity that now presents itself.”
“Attack them… yes, I do see… yes, you’re right. Where?”
Churchill took a deep puff on his cigar, something that Truman detected despite being thousands of miles away.
“Everywhere, Mr President. Everywhere.”
Stalin waited as the telephone connection was made, and observed his Foreign Secretary making a few annotations on the basic document that had been agreed as the basis for negotiations with the enemy.
A voice drew him back from the sight.
‘Zhukov.’
“Comrade Marshal, good morning. The Allies have agreed to attend the Swedish talks.”
He took a gentle pull on his cigarette as Zhukov asked his questions.
“As quickly as possible, Comrade Marshal. Minister Molotov intends to travel to Sweden as soon as the corridor of safe passage is arranged and confirmed.”
He nodded at the words his ears deciphered.
“Yes, you must, Comrade Marshal. If the capitalists smell weakness, then they will place great pressure on our forces, as well as harden their negotiating position… neither must happen, we are clear on that, Comrade Zhukov?”
He waved his hand to remove the ash that had tumbled down his tunic top, and stubbed out the offender before quietly waiting for the man on the other end to stop talking.
“Yes, yes, Comrade. You and Vasilevsky have our complete confidence. I understand tha…”
An aide had slipped in unnoticed and placed a small report in front of the General Secretary. He cut across Zhukov’s request for more fuel.
“Let me stop you there. There is no more fuel. Use what you have wisely. I’ve just been informed that the safe passage is confirmed, so Comrade Minister Molotov will be in Sweden today. That should mean that formal talks could begin tomorrow morning.”
Zhukov asked the burning question.
Stalin gave him the answer that had been agreed.
“The 19th at the latest. The Red Army must maintain its fullest efforts until then. That is the absolute imperative of this situation, and you must not fail the party and the Rodina. Implement the operations as planned tonight, Comrade Marshal.”
He put the phone down without hearing the Marshal’s parting words.
Molotov sensed Stalin’s eyes on him and looked up from the document.
“So, Comrade, the Red Army stands ready to do its duty, and it’ll buy you time to negotiate from a position of strength. The 19th, Vyacheslav, you’ve ‘til the 19th.”
Chapter 169 – THE DIALOGUE
An honourable peace is and always was my first wish. I can take no delight in the effusion of human blood; but, if this war should continue, I wish to have the most active part in it.
Military Airfield 16 at Brattfors had been declared as the receiving airbase, with safe flying zones and fighter escorts provided by the Swedish Air Force.
As each delegation landed, the Allied transport aircraft outnumbering those of the USSR by four to one, the Swedish Army whisked the great and powerful away in an armed convoy, quickly covering the fifteen kilometres to the hastily constructed Swedish Army facility on the banks of the Lungen at Lungsnäs.
Whilst adequate, the site lacked many of the creature comforts to which the senior politicians were used, a deliberate choice on the part of the Swedes, who felt such absences would spur the delegations to quicker agreement.
The Swedish Minister for Foreign Affairs, Östen Undén, called the room to order with a gentle knocking of a gavel, the agreed sign of his authority over the powerful assembly.