For Burney, it was a very successful day.
The value of his HESH shell had been fully appreciated by people who mattered, and his RCL modifications appeared to have overcome the wear issues, which hopefully meant that British infantry would soon have a weapon capable of dealing with the biggest of the enemy’s tanks.
A very successful day indeed.
The Council of Germany had relocated to Aachen as soon as was practicable, the act of installing the political machinery in a German City considered vital for national pride, and far outweighing the disadvantages of the lesser facilities afforded by the ruined metropolis.
The connotations and mystique of the ancient Roman city, its links with Emperor Charlemagne, and its history as a crowning place for German Kings, lent further weight to the decision to install the council within Aachen’s town hall. Damaged during the previous war, hasty repairs had made to make the old building tenable enough for move the politicians in.
That had been fourteen days previously.
Today, the comings and goings of politicians and military men had been interrupted by the physical collapse of Franz von Papen.
Almost a week to the day after Donitz had succumbed to a serious gastric problem, resulting in some complicated and extended surgery, Von Papen had fallen down the Rathaus stairs, having suddenly complained of feeling dizzy and nauseous.
Whatever his internal issues were, the broken leg and deep head wound would have been enough by themselves to remove the aging politician from office for some time to come.
In the White Hall, the former Mayoral office, the convened Council of Germany, or what was left of it, had just made a decision.
That the decision was made without any consultation with the Allied powers was a matter of unease for some, a pre-requirement for others.
The result was that Germany would have a new leader and his appointment would be presented to the other allies as a fait-accompli.
The newly elected head of the German Republic stood.
“Kameraden, I thank you for this privilege, and for giving me the chance to lead our country forward into better times. We will continue to support our new allies, and restore Germany’s lost honour, through the blood of our soldiers and the sweat of our people.”
Inside, the latest German Chancellor felt elation that months of planning had finally come to fruition, that ideas and concepts had finally become a reality, and that he and his closest associates were now in a position to bring forward the agenda of unfinished business; one of restoring Germany to her rightful place on the world stage, and of destroying communism.
“I pledge myself to the pursuit of victory by the quickest and most practical route, and in restoring peace to our great nation. Thank you.”
Acknowledging the polite applause, Albert Speer resumed his seat and enjoyed the moment.
“Sons of bitches… goddamned sons of bitches!”
Patton said what was on all of their minds.
What was supposed to be a gently paced meeting and dinner had turned into a frantic exercise to get a radio, and the grabbing of an interpreter so they could understand the words of the new German Chancellor.
Eisenhower sat with his finger steepled, pressing the tips to his lips, failing to mask a face like thunder.
Bradley and McCreery were struck dumb.
Alexander had excused himself for a moment, and was probably ranting into the mirror in the well-appointed rest room.
Eisenhower finally broke his silence.
“I’m not clear what the President will think of this, but one thing’s for sure… it isn’t what he signed up for.”
He silently sought a view from McCreery.
“The Prime Minister certainly won’t be happy, Sir.”
Bradley put it all into a few words.
“Doesn’t matter, does it? They’ve railroaded the lot of us. The Krauts’ve presented us with a situation, and we can’t back out of it. They know… heck, we all know, we need them more than ever now.”
Whilst the casualty figures were better, the US forces were still taking the lion’s share of hits from the Red Army.
Ike’s eyes narrowed.
“They agree to take on more of the front line, releasing our forces, and in so doing actually increase their importance to the Allies. Then, within days, this happens…Brad?”
The Twelfth Army Group commander clearly had something to say.
“Sir… Donitz went too, remember? Suddenly… without warning… there and then gone… and he was Von Papen’s natural successor…”
Bradley’s voice trailed off as his mind went deeper into what he was suggesting.
All the heads nodded, wondering if there was something they weren’t seeing here, a something that looked and smelt rotten.
Alexander walked in with a worrying thought in his mind, his own concerns having been reinforced by the last few words he had overheard.
“General, if Papen had gone first, and then Donitz, the successor, had followed, it would have looked rather bad… but this way round, the move from chancellor to chancellor is… well… less questionable at first sight and… err… somewhat smoother and…”
“Hold on one cotton-picking minute… are you seriously suggesting that the chancellor and his deputy have been removed by something other than coincidence?”
Alexander held Ike’s stern gaze and gave his reply a moment’s further thought.
“General Eisenhower, sir… I think that puts it rather well.”
The commander of the Allied Armies sought the feelings of his commanders and, to a man, they all felt something was not right.
Before Eisenhower spoke to members of the darker arts, in order to establish what was known of the personal and political rivalries within the German Council, he posed a question that no-one could really answer.
“Why?”
That question travelled to all the political centres aligned to the Allied cause, and remained unanswered, the suspicions of conspiracy purely guessed at, and with no proof of any type unveiled.
Churchill and Truman growled down the phone at each other, but found no comfort in their discussion.
Both subsequently rang Speer to offer their congratulations and support, whilst each, in their own way, sounded out the man who had been thrust upon the Allied cause as leader of the increasingly important former enemy.
NKVD Colonel General Ivan Aleksandrovich Serov was a man on a mission, empowered by those at the very summit of the state apparatus, and therefore not a man easily brushed aside.
Objections and objectors had come and gone, his authority supreme in the face of all-comers.
No matter what, his mission had priority, and it was the inventory of special items that were carefully and secretly loaded on nondescript vehicles, ready for the long journey back to the Motherland, regardless of the other plans for use of the transport network.
Having considerable experience with such things, especially with his overseeing of the removal of the German uranium ore from Oranienberg, he knew not to rush matters, but applied calm urgency.
The heavy metal caskets containing the radioactive material came in for extra special handling.
Serov’s authority had also brought forth numerous Red Air Force night fighters, circling four distinct separate areas, three as a maskirovka.
In the dark skies above Austria, aircrew from many nations stalked and killed each other, unaware of what was happening under the hills beneath them.
At great cost, the Red Air Force kept the Allied efforts away from Sankt Georgen an der Gusen and by morning, Serov was gone, and the continuing recovery effort was left to junior ranks.