"Looks like a snorkel to me," said his co-pilot, giving the German word schnorkel the American pronunciation.
"Damn it, just what we needed," Tony said.
Intelligence said that the snorkel enabled the German subs to stay under forever because they could change their air and keep running on their diesels while submerged without suffocating the crew. They would only have to use their batteries when running deep and it was thought they could re-charge them while using the snorkel.
Without a snorkel, subs spent most of their time on the surface. Their batteries were so limited they couldn't stay submerged very long, and they couldn't run their diesels while submerged because the crew would suffocate. The crew would suffocate anyhow if the air wasn't changed. The snorkel solved these problems by sucking air into the sub, and raised new problems for the United States.
The snorkel was very imperfect, mainly because the air it delivered was still foul, but breathable and sometimes heavy seas caused water to come down the pipe. Despite all its flaws and shortcomings, it would give the Germans a tremendous advantage if the rumors were only half true.
Tony checked his fuel status. Time to head back. He'd reported the U-boat's position but nothing would come of it. It would be long gone before any ships showed up. Besides, what would they do besides annoy the sub. It wasn't as if the U.S. was at war with Germany. At least they'd be back on shore while restaurants were open and wouldn't have to eat at the mess hall.
He flipped on the intercom. "Hey, any of you guys ever have a pizza pie?"
"A what?" they responded. Someone else said he'd heard of apple and cherry, but not pizza pie.
Tony laughed. "I said a pizza pie. It's an Italian food that you usually only find in Italian communities. It's made of baked flat bread and covered with tomato sauce, melted cheese, and sometimes sausages and onions, and it's delicious. Be thankful that your loyal skipper did find a place that just opened up and it's only a short drive from the base."
"Are you buying?" came from several voices.
What the hell, Tony thought, "Yeah."
Grant read the latest report sent over from the OSS and compared it with data gotten by other sources. They corroborated, which was not a surprise. According to the sources, the Germans were quietly disbursing their forces in the only two directions an American counter-attack could come. These were the area around Niagara Falls, Ontario, and the stretch between Sarnia and Windsor, Ontario. A few officers with scant knowledge of the area along the St. Lawrence River had suggested that either army could cross into Quebec along the border with Maine. When they were reminded that the land was thickly forested and had few roads, they were silenced. It was admitted, however, that small German units could and probably were crossing the border.
In one meeting, Ike had grumbled that the roads to the Buffalo-Niagara area were totally inadequate for the movement of large units, especially armor. "Someday," he'd said, "America will have real highways like the German Autobahn to move troops and supplies. The country roads we have now are ridiculously inadequate."
He gave the info to Downing who read it and left the room. He returned in a few minutes and signaled Tom to follow. They went down the hallway to General Truscott's office and entered. To Tom's surprise, Eisenhower was seated alongside Truscott's desk. The two generals told him to take a seat.
"Once again, good thinking," said Truscott, "even though this tells us nothing we didn't already know, it does confirm things."
Unsaid was the fact that the OSS had risen in everyone's estimation. Not only was the information they were providing proving correct, but the agency had lost a number of agents to the Germans. At least a dozen men and a couple of women had either been killed or captured. Tom shuddered at the thought of what would happen to them in the clutches of either the Gestapo or their local first cousins, the Black Shirts. Both groups had well-deserved reputations for sadism. All one had to do was think of what happened to young Mary Bradford and she had been an innocent Canadian, not an American spy.
"The Canadians are getting very antsy," Ike said with a smile. "It's finally occurring to their government in Ottawa that they could have a war right on their doorstep. Hell, it would be inside their doorstep. They're afraid that what happened to Poland could happen to them, and I don't blame them. If shooting starts on April 2, then we are going to have to go in and root out the Germans. It might just be as bad as it is happening against the Japanese."
Word was coming from the Philippines that the defeated Japanese would not surrender and had begun fighting to the last man; thus inflicting serious casualties on MacArthur's army. Even worse was the fact that Japanese planes had begun making suicide attacks on American warships and had even sunk a couple of small carriers and damaged a number of others. Tom wondered just how the hell do you stop a man in a plane who's hell bent on killing himself? And what would happen when the American fleet got within range of Japanese planes currently based on their home islands?
"I genuinely feel sorry for the Canadians," Truscott said, "but it's going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better."
Truscott signaled that the discussion was over. As he and Downing walked back to their office, Tom wondered what Toronto would look like after heavy fighting. Probably like the ruins of Stalingrad? Everyone had seen pictures of that place after the Germans had finally taken it. It was a wasteland.
Leighton Goldie McCarthy had once been a handsome man. When younger, he'd had a firm jaw and a steel gaze that intimidated his subordinates and competitors in the insurance field. Now, as Canada's first ambassador to the United States, he appeared to FDR to be a tired old man who felt more than his seventy-four years. That he was the first ambassador from Canada was due to a technicality involving the minutiae of international protocol. He and others had previously been called Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary. Roosevelt thought the title issue was a bunch of bullshit.
McCarthy had been to the White House on a number of occasions and was greeted warmly by FDR in the Oval Office. It had been scheduled as a social visit although no one believed that fable. However, it did enable the two men to meet with a degree of privacy.
FDR made drinks. As always, he forced his guest to drink the president's own version of a dry martini. The Canadian, as always, was polite. He couldn't stand martinis, especially Roosevelt's concoctions. There was far too much vermouth and the inclusion of olive brine made him shudder.
The president smiled warmly. "So, to what do I owe this singular honor?"
McCarthy tried to smile but it didn't work. "Sir, let me cut to the chase. My country is terrified. Not only have the Germans begun rounding up certain of our citizens, Jews of course, but we hear rumors that the provinces in the west are going to secede and form their own country. And worse, we hear that the Germans are going to attack the United States which would put us in the middle of a war. Any or all possibilities would be disastrous to Canada. May we discuss them?"
The president no longer smiled. His eyes became cold, "Of course, but there might not be much to discuss. Yes, we have heard rumors of secession by your western provinces and, should it occur, it is very likely that we will look favorably on it. We would be especially pleased to have a nation to our north that was not occupied by Nazi Germany. Should such a new country be created, and let's pretend that it will be called the Republic of West Canada, we would be more than eager to sign mutual defense and trade agreements with it. Who knows, this hypothetical West Canada might even allow us to station troops at strategic points to ensure the integrity of the new republic as well as protect the western United States from fascist aggressors.