What do you want?”
“There is great energy behind a plan to remove Hitler from power.”
Rommel leaned forward, felt the words cutting into him, cold in his gut. “Whose great energy?”
“Men you know, Erwin. Names you know. There is no specific plan, not yet. There is fear that if Hitler is simply…captured, forcibly removed, it could ignite a conflict within Germany that is more costly than the war. Our country might never recover. If there is suddenly a vacuum at the top, those most loyal to him…the Gestapo, certainly…well, everything could be destroyed.”
“How could you possibly believe this kind of plan could succeed?”
Strölin smiled, and Rommel suddenly realized why. “Thank you, Erwin. You have just revealed what I had to know. You are at least sympathetic enough to listen to what we have to say. I admit, I was not completely certain.”
Rommel felt sweat in his clothes. “I should probably have you arrested.”
“Probably. But you won’t. Because you know we are on the right path. You know we have lost this war. No matter what happens now, Germany has been too weakened by too many disasters of leadership to prevail over either the Russians or the Americans. You know that, don’t you?”
Rommel did not answer, felt his breathing quick and sharp in his chest.
“We believe that if Hitler is removed from power, the British—and the Americans in particular—will open their arms to us and accept our calls for an armistice and for assistance inside of Germany. No one wants to see the Russians marching into Berlin. No civilized German wants to see Bolsheviks determining our future. So we must make a powerful overture to the West, to show them that Germany still has a meaningful national identity, that we are—well, that we are worth saving. That is why I came to see you.”
Rommel was puzzled now. “You want me to…what? Surrender? You cannot be serious.”
Strölin shook his head. “No, not surrender. Not yet, anyway. First things first. If Hitler is removed, there must be a single voice to replace him, someone whose influence will carry weight not only with our enemies but with the German people. We need a strong man to step into the void and assume command. It will be a delicate situation, to say the least. But we believe that man is—”
“Me? You want me to become the leader of Germany?” He realized he had shouted the words and glanced toward the door, his stomach locked in a twisting turmoil.
“You are the one man who can draw the respect of both the West and our own people. There simply is no one else. You are a Hero of the Fatherland and the finest general in our army.”
“Stop! I have heard enough! You are committing treason, Doctor!”
“Listen to yourself! Treason against what? A madman who slaughters his own people? A madman who is so diabolical he will only leave this world if he takes our entire nation with him? The war is lost, but he will never surrender, you know that. If Hitler remains in power, Germany will be carved up from outside like a side of meat. You know I’m right, Field Marshal! You know what our future must be. You know what action we must take!”
Strölin was sweating, red-faced; he wiped at his brow with a white handkerchief. Rommel tried to calm himself, felt sick, tried to stand, could not. Strölin leaned forward, calmer now.
“Think about what I am saying, Erwin. Think hard. I speak truth, a truth you know only too well. Your son is on a path to join the Luftwaffe…to serve under that monster Hermann Göring! Is that what you want for your son? For Germany’s sons?”
Rommel stared at the desk in front of him, the pile of paper, his notes, troop counts, and the tonnage of supplies, construction materials, and tools of war that didn’t exist. He let out a long breath, closed his eyes, then blinked hard, sat in silence for a long moment, Strölin’s words blistering inside of him, one word— truth. He said slowly, a low voice, “I
“There is great energy behind a plan to remove Hitler from power.”
Rommel leaned forward, felt the words cutting into him, cold in his gut. “Whose great energy?”
“Men you know, Erwin. Names you know. There is no specific plan, not yet. There is fear that if Hitler is simply…captured, forcibly removed, it could ignite a conflict within Germany that is more costly than the war. Our country might never recover. If there is suddenly a vacuum at the top, those most loyal to him…the Gestapo, certainly…well, everything could be destroyed.”
“How could you possibly believe this kind of plan could succeed?”
Strölin smiled, and Rommel suddenly realized why. “Thank you, Erwin. You have just revealed what I had to know. You are at least sympathetic enough to listen to what we have to say. I admit, I was not completely certain.”
Rommel felt sweat in his clothes. “I should probably have you arrested.”
“Probably. But you won’t. Because you know we are on the right path. You know we have lost this war. No matter what happens now, Germany has been too weakened by too many disasters of leadership to prevail over either the Russians or the Americans. You know that, don’t you?”
Rommel did not answer, felt his breathing quick and sharp in his chest.
“We believe that if Hitler is removed from power, the British—and the Americans in particular—will open their arms to us and accept our calls for an armistice and for assistance inside of Germany. No one wants to see the Russians marching into Berlin. No civilized German wants to see Bolsheviks determining our future. So we must make a powerful overture to the West, to show them that Germany still has a meaningful national identity, that we are—well, that we are worth saving. That is why I came to see you.”
Rommel was puzzled now. “You want me to…what? Surrender? You cannot be serious.”
Strölin shook his head. “No, not surrender. Not yet, anyway. First things first. If Hitler is removed, there must be a single voice to replace him, someone whose influence will carry weight not only with our enemies but with the German people. We need a strong man to step into the void and assume command. It will be a delicate situation, to say the least. But we believe that man is—”
“Me? You want me to become the leader of Germany?” He realized he had shouted the words and glanced toward the door, his stomach locked in a twisting turmoil.
“You are the one man who can draw the respect of both the West and our own people. There simply is no one else. You are a Hero of the Fatherland and the finest general in our army.”
“Stop! I have heard enough! You are committing treason, Doctor!”
“Listen to yourself! Treason against what? A madman who slaughters his own people? A madman who is so diabolical he will only leave this world if he takes our entire nation with him? The war is lost, but he will never surrender, you know that. If Hitler remains in power, Germany will be carved up from outside like a side of meat. You know I’m right, Field Marshal! You know what our future must be. You know what action we must take!”
Strölin was sweating, red-faced; he wiped at his brow with a white handkerchief. Rommel tried to calm himself, felt sick, tried to stand, could not. Strölin leaned forward, calmer now.
“Think about what I am saying, Erwin. Think hard. I speak truth, a truth you know only too well. Your son is on a path to join the Luftwaffe…to serve under that monster Hermann Göring! Is that what you want for your son? For Germany’s sons?”
Rommel stared at the desk in front of him, the pile of paper, his notes, troop counts, and the tonnage of supplies, construction materials, and tools of war that didn’t exist. He let out a long breath, closed his eyes, then blinked hard, sat in silence for a long moment, Strölin’s words blistering inside of him, one word— truth. He said slowly, a low voice, “I
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