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A similar concept had also been initiated earlier this year by a private aircraft manufacturer, Henschel. Their particular design, however, was to be rocket powered.

The military benefits of such weapons to Germany were obvious.

Surprisingly, Goering had no comments. He had been a complete failure as Aviation Minister.

As von Brauchitsch was nearing the end of his report an envelope had been delivered to Speer. He briefly scanned its contents then gave a slight nod to the General.

Twenty minutes later von Brauchitsch had finished. There had been interested questions about jet aircraft and rockets, which he had answered to the best of his ability. He noticed Goering was preparing to collect his papers and make ready to depart.

He spoke. “There is one more important item we have to discuss here today”. Goering relaxed in his seat. Speer handed to von Brauchtisch the document that had been delivered a few minutes earlier. He quickly scanned it, and kept it in his hand.

The General stared at the document for another minute, and then moved his chair slightly to face Goering. He spoke formally but did not mince his words. “Field Marshall Goering, you are plotting a coup.”

All the Council members watched the Field Marshall with hard merciless expressions.

Shock was written all over Goering’s face at the blunt accusation. Shock followed by guilt. He had been caught out.

His first reaction was bluster. His protestations that he had no idea what the General was talking about were followed by vehement denials. He was perspiring freely. When he finally stopped ranting, von Brauchitsch spoke again.

“This morning, starting from the time of your arrival here, the police have rounded up eighty five of your accomplices. Their names are on this document. Some of them are already singing like canaries.” This last claim was bluff to see what reaction it drew. “The army is on alert and ready to deal with your SS soldiers.”

A pause to let Goering squirm. Then, “Why, Hermann?”

Goering seemed to collapse within himself. He stared at the table and papers in front of him. Not a word was spoken. All were waiting for the traitor to say something. The perspiration was pouring down his face and the collar of his beautifully tailored silk uniform was dark with sweat. Finally he looked up.

“I wanted to be Fuhrer.

A simple statement that said it all.

The others just stared at him in silence.

“After Hitler’s death I was the obvious choice to lead Germany. For twenty years I had followed the man. I understood his aims and ideals. I knew everything about running our country and its armed forces. Instead, all I am is a figurehead for this Council. A spokesman. I deserve better.” He said bitterly.

He had admitted the charge. There was no point in prolonging the agony, von Brauchitsch thought.

“Very well. I am sorry it has come to this, Hermann. We now have to decide what is best for Germany. You will be confined to your home at Carinhall until further notice. Obviously we will have to place you under the protection of the army, but we will let it be known that it is a precaution against any attempt on your life by the newly discovered Nazi plotters. Do you understand?”

Goering understood. He was starting to think that he might just survive this catastrophe. Under the Nazi regime he would have been hauled off, interrogated brutally, and then shot. He knew this Governing Council did not operate that way.

“I understand.”

“In the circumstances you will have no objection if your car is escorted by army vehicles when you leave.”

Goering nodded meekly.

“Then you are finished here. We will let you know how this is to be handled in the next day or two. Under no circumstances are you to contact anyone. Am I quite clear?”

Again Goering just nodded.

The General now said coldly. “You are dismissed.”

The deflated Luftwaffe Field Marshall slowly rose from his seat and left the room without saying another word. He did not even collect his working papers from the table. All noticed the dark sweat stains on his ample back and behind.

Von Brauchitsch slumped back in his seat. He looked defeated. Distressed. All was quiet while he pulled himself together. Then he began to speak.

“Gentlemen. This has been a most unfortunate turn of events. I am not sure how we, and more importantly, Germany, will appear in the eyes of the world when this plot becomes public knowledge. Are we ever going to escape the curse of Nazism? What will our own citizens think? I am optimistic that reason will prevail, but I find the whole thing quite depressing.” He paused.

“I have something to say to you.” He searched for the right words.

“Hermann Goering is a dangerous man. The knowledge that he carries inside his head could tear Germany apart should he ever talk freely. The progress we have made in the past months would all be undone. He cannot be allowed to stand trial for treason.

For this reason, and with great reluctance, I took it upon myself to make arrangements that the Field Marshall does not live out this day. It is a shameful action, but one that had to be done. I could not discuss it with yourselves as I did not want you to be burdened by it. I alone take full responsibility.

I accordingly have no alternative but to tender my resignation to this council.”

This was greeted with shocked silence as the thunderbolt sunk in.

Amazingly the first member of the Council to recover was the dour old Economics Minister, Hjalmar Schacht. He stiffly levered himself out of his seat, walked around to von Brauchitsch, and grasped his hand, his other hand he placed on the General’s shoulder.

“I gladly share your burden.” He maintained his handshake in this unprecedented show of solidarity. “Everything you have said is true. Goering is a traitor and under any other circumstances would have been brought to trial. His guilt is undoubted, indeed he has admitted it. He would have received the death sentence, and rightly so. Nothing less would have been acceptable. Your actions will save Germany much pain. Please accept my humble thanks for taking this matter upon yourself.”

He looked von Brauchitsch in the eye. “I think I speak for all my colleagues here when I say that we are all in agreement with your handling of this. It was the only way. We all take collective responsibility.

Please General, I beg you not to resign from this Council. You have led us in an exemplary fashion. Germany owes you a great debt. Our work has only just begun. Without you it would be a lot more difficult. Please stay with us.”

Immediately the rest of the Council were on their feet. They all shook the General’s hand, General Beck even embraced him. They were unanimous, they all agreed with his course of action and there was no need for regret. He was needed. There was still much to be done before the Council could consider handing over the reins of government to any alternative.

Von Brauchitsch was overwhelmed at the depth of feeling displayed by his fellow Council members. It made all the worries and hard work of recent months worthwhile. Some of the weight was lifted from his shoulders.

“Thank you gentlemen. Thank you friends, if I may call you that. As much as I dislike being a politician, I humbly agree to continue to serve. I am honoured that you so wish it.”

Everyone was relieved.

Goering’s car exited the Reich Chancellery building and was immediately sandwiched between two military vehicles. The first drove about forty metres in front of him, and the second stayed the same distance behind. Another civilian car trailed somewhere behind them.