problem with tax. The finance office is the only one that doesn’t give a damn; if necessary they’ll tax illegal immigrants and negotiate cash payments. And if you want, we can arrange all the payments and help you manage your money, so I don’t expect it would be the long pole in the bank’s tent. But I’ll bottomline for you: it’ll be like putting socks on an octopus with the registration office or social insurance. We’ll be chipping out of the bunker with no green to work with.”
I had no idea what the man was saying, but sensed that he was in need of moral support. The troops must not be overextended. After all, it is not every day that a Reich chancellor believed long dead parades himself through the country as fresh as a daisy.
“It must be difficult for you,” I said, indulging him.
“What?”
“Well, I imagine you seldom encounter people like me.”
Sensenbrink laughed.
“Of course we do – it’s our job!”
His composure came as such a surprise that I had to probe further: “So there
are
more like me?”
“Come on, you know as well as I do that there are all sorts in your line of work …”
“And you arrange for them all to be broadcast?”
“Can you imagine the work we’d have on our plates? No, we only contract those we believe in.”
“Excellent,” I said. “One must fight for the cause with fanatical belief. Do you have Antonescu as well? Or the Duce?”
“Who?”
“You know: Mussolini.”
“No!” Sensenbrink said so firmly that I could see him shaking his head down the telephone wire. “What would we do with an Antonini? He’s low-visibility; no-one knows who he is.”
“Or Churchill? Eisenhower? Chamberlain?”
“Oh, now I know which direction your arrows are firing in!” Sensenbrink roared into the telephone. “No, no. Where would the humour be in that? We’d never gain any traction. No, you’re perfect as you are. We’re going to stick with one character, we’re going to stick with our Adolf!”
“Very good,” I said, then immediately delved deeper: “What happens if Stalin turns up tomorrow?”
“You can forget Stalin,” he said, pledging his allegiance. “We’re not the History Channel.”
This was the Sensenbrink I wanted to hear! Sensenbrink the fanatic, awakened by his Führer.
And here I cannot overemphasise the importance of a fanatical will. This was most clearly demonstrated by the course of the last world war, which was not always unproblematic. No doubt some will say, “Was it really a lack of fanatical will which resulted in the Second World War ending as unfavourably as the First? Was there not perhaps another reason, maybe an insufficient supply of manpower?” All of this is feasible, even possibly correct, but it is also the symptom of an ancient German disease, namely that of hunting for mistakes in the small details while ignoring the larger, clearer picture.
Naturally, one cannot deny that we suffered from a certain numerical inferiority of troops in the last world war. But this inferiority was not decisive; on the contrary, the German Volkcould have coped with a greater superiority of enemy numbers. Indeed, on a number of occasions in the early 1940s I even regretted that the enemy did not have more troops. Just look at the inferiority enjoyed by Frederick the Great: twelve enemy soldiers to each Prussian grenadier! Whereas in Russia it was three or four Bolshevists per Aryan warrior.
It is true that after Stalingrad the superiority of the enemy was far more befitting to the honour of the Wehrmacht. On the day of the Allied landings in Normandy, the enemy advanced with 2,600 bombers and 650 fighter planes. If I remember rightly, the Luftwaffe resisted with two fighter aircraft – a truly honourable ratio. And yet the position was not hopeless! I wholeheartedly endorse the words of Reich Minister Dr Goebbels, who demanded that if the numerical disadvantage could not be rectified, then the German Volk must compensate for
I had no idea what the man was saying, but sensed that he was in need of moral support. The troops must not be overextended. After all, it is not every day that a Reich chancellor believed long dead parades himself through the country as fresh as a daisy.
“It must be difficult for you,” I said, indulging him.
“What?”
“Well, I imagine you seldom encounter people like me.”
Sensenbrink laughed.
“Of course we do – it’s our job!”
His composure came as such a surprise that I had to probe further: “So there
are
more like me?”
“Come on, you know as well as I do that there are all sorts in your line of work …”
“And you arrange for them all to be broadcast?”
“Can you imagine the work we’d have on our plates? No, we only contract those we believe in.”
“Excellent,” I said. “One must fight for the cause with fanatical belief. Do you have Antonescu as well? Or the Duce?”
“Who?”
“You know: Mussolini.”
“No!” Sensenbrink said so firmly that I could see him shaking his head down the telephone wire. “What would we do with an Antonini? He’s low-visibility; no-one knows who he is.”
“Or Churchill? Eisenhower? Chamberlain?”
“Oh, now I know which direction your arrows are firing in!” Sensenbrink roared into the telephone. “No, no. Where would the humour be in that? We’d never gain any traction. No, you’re perfect as you are. We’re going to stick with one character, we’re going to stick with our Adolf!”
“Very good,” I said, then immediately delved deeper: “What happens if Stalin turns up tomorrow?”
“You can forget Stalin,” he said, pledging his allegiance. “We’re not the History Channel.”
This was the Sensenbrink I wanted to hear! Sensenbrink the fanatic, awakened by his Führer.
And here I cannot overemphasise the importance of a fanatical will. This was most clearly demonstrated by the course of the last world war, which was not always unproblematic. No doubt some will say, “Was it really a lack of fanatical will which resulted in the Second World War ending as unfavourably as the First? Was there not perhaps another reason, maybe an insufficient supply of manpower?” All of this is feasible, even possibly correct, but it is also the symptom of an ancient German disease, namely that of hunting for mistakes in the small details while ignoring the larger, clearer picture.
Naturally, one cannot deny that we suffered from a certain numerical inferiority of troops in the last world war. But this inferiority was not decisive; on the contrary, the German Volkcould have coped with a greater superiority of enemy numbers. Indeed, on a number of occasions in the early 1940s I even regretted that the enemy did not have more troops. Just look at the inferiority enjoyed by Frederick the Great: twelve enemy soldiers to each Prussian grenadier! Whereas in Russia it was three or four Bolshevists per Aryan warrior.
It is true that after Stalingrad the superiority of the enemy was far more befitting to the honour of the Wehrmacht. On the day of the Allied landings in Normandy, the enemy advanced with 2,600 bombers and 650 fighter planes. If I remember rightly, the Luftwaffe resisted with two fighter aircraft – a truly honourable ratio. And yet the position was not hopeless! I wholeheartedly endorse the words of Reich Minister Dr Goebbels, who demanded that if the numerical disadvantage could not be rectified, then the German Volk must compensate for
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