“The Russian campaign seems to be going splendidly, would you agree Jodl?”
“It is going very well, actually a little too well, but Russia is not France, and the Russians are not the French. In spite of the early success, I have some very disturbing reports from my commanders that many of the Russians refuse to surrender—they simply keep fighting, they never surrender. When out of ammunition, they simply charge our troops with their bayonets. From a military viewpoint, this is very disturbing to be facing soldiers with such spirit. I start to see what Napoleon was faced with 130 years ago. And there are so many of them—the Russian divisions seem endless.”
“So, the notion of ‘All You Have To Do Is Kick In The Front Door And The Whole Rotten Edifice Will Come Crashing Down’ is not true?” Albert asked.
“I am not sure what the Chancellor was thinking when he made this truly odd remark,” Jodl replied.
No one spoke as they each tried to determine what the other two were thinking.
“My concern is when we face reversals, how we will react. As Schlieffen liked to remark, ‘a war without a crisis is simply a skirmish,’ and that is my concern. The Swiss military men I speak to from time-to-time mention that we Germans seem to lack the coherency that we had in France last year.”
“I share that concern,” Milch added thoughtfully.
Albert said, “My concern is this, my thesis, as it were, is: we are very strong at home, but we have no foreign policy at all and we are lumbered with extremely brittle allies. The Chancellor seems to be completely under the spell of the Duce, who I see as weak and vacillating. What is your view of Italy, Jodl?”
“In two thousand years of war, there is probably no worse ally than Italy today—they are just harvest hands, nothing more, nothing less. Remember how they waited to declare war until we had done all the fighting last year in France?” Jodl blandly replied.
Albert asked Jodl to elaborate.
What made Jodl so impressive was his complete detachment—he was like a chess grandmaster: always cool and clear; never flustered; never emotional; never theatrical. He simply analyzed the situation as if reviewing the position of pieces on a chess board, and for him they were pieces on a board. With Jodl there was no shouting, no pouting, no insults, no threats as there was from someone who proclaimed to all the world that he himself was a military genius.
“Mussolini is essentially an overgrown and exceedingly pompous boy scout. He lacks all the basics. He is a typical Italian dreamer, he dreams of a new Roman empire, with him as the new Roman emperor. Look at Abyssinia in ’35—God help us, he actually had to resort to poison gas against native tribesmen. And I’ve seen firsthand his deployment in North Africa and it makes me shudder—he has his camps much too far apart, so they can be picked off piecemeal by a wily opponent, and while the British are currently on the back foot, the Italians are asking for trouble. Our German attachés have tried to warn him, but the Italians are so proud and vain, proud and vain that is until they suffer their first defeat, when they simply surrender en masse.”
“In addition, their commanders are all inept. Here is a perfect example of basic rules that our friends in the south break: German field commanders eat only after their men, to ensure their men are fed first in case the food runs out; German commanders share the same rations; German commanders share the same privations. In contrast, the Italian officers eat superior food, they even get wine, and they get special tents, some with electric fans that are run off the trucks’ electric batteries. I can think no better way to create discord, and the Italian fighting men are clearly not of the same caliber as our soldiers to begin with. But we can never broach any criticism of the Duce. Italy could very quickly become a millstone around our neck.”
After a fractional pause, Jodl corrected himself,
“Will become, it is simply a matter of time. And remember, the Italians soldiers are all babies—they all lack the guts of the German soldier.”
Jodl smiled. Observing Albert’s natural coolness, Jodl continued: “I am sure these stories and military points bore you, Albert.”
Albert shook his head.
The gazebo was five paces from the edge of the vertical cliff. The largest of the three gazebos was the size of a German workman’s house, typical of Bormann’s complete lack of proportion. It was another brainchild of Bormann who seemed to have an endless list of projects all designed solely to curry favor with his protector.
Ever the diplomat, Milch asked Jodclass="underline" “Forget that fucking horseshit; how is the Russian campaign actually progressing?”
Jodl said nothing for a moment, looking at the ash forming on the end of his cigar, and then replied,
“It’s far more brittle than we expected. As I said, our biggest problem is a lack of clear objectives. And our intelligence has been woeful.”
Jodl was couching his words, as he did not know how much he could trust his companions.
No one spoke. Albert broke the silence,
“I have an old professor who now lives in Switzerland. It is his view that the Reich is over-extended.”
Jodl turned his head to look directly at Albert.
“The old Jewish chap?”
“Yes.”
“But he is an economist, he knows nothing of military strategy. Don’t tell me I have to deal with yet another fucking amateur?” Jodl asked, making a not very veiled reference to the owner of the mountain house.
“Yes, he is the economist and as he says—and I agree—modern war these days is now primarily an economic battle, not a battle of swords and shields, or men and aircraft. I visited him recently. He pointed out that we are very poorly positioned for a long war—if we do not end this war in ’42, we’re done for; for one thing we simply do not have sufficient labor for our factories. His point was that America is a huge and untapped powerhouse. While they are neutral at the moment, their presence in this war will likely lead to a German defeat. They don’t even need send any troops, but if they start supplying en masse then Russia could become very sticky for us. We simply lack the labor and we lack the oil.”
Jodl said, “At present we are out-maneuvering the Russian commanders, but one thing my training has taught me is that enemies start to adopt the winning tactics of their opponents, and Stalin is a wise old bird, the opposite of Mussolini.”
Albert thought and said,
“Our immediate goal should be to keep America out of the war. The Germans and the British are natural allies. The Far East is unstable, and the American President Roosevelt is trying to provoke both us as well as the Japanese. The Americans are the winners with a bankrupt Britain and a prostrate Germany, and that is precisely what Roosevelt is trying to create. As far as Japan is concerned, sooner or later the Japanese and the Americans will be at war. When—not if—when this happens, if we throw our lot in with the Americans, we get a strong ally, we isolate Russia and we stir up a hornets nest in London. But, we have to plan for this now, and we have to be ready for this inevitable Pacific war, and we have to declare for America, not Japan.”
Jodl decided he needed to take a risk, “Well, he may be correct. Milch, what do you think?”
“I agree, but in the current political climate, I don’t see how the fuck any of us can change anything.”
The “current political climate” Milch referred to was the current Chancellor.
“Albert, you have more sway with him than me or Jodl; can’t you speak to him?”
Albert said, “I hardly think he will listen to his part-time architect.”
There was silence.