am proud of my son, and I was proud when I heard he had been called up for service. Then, I realized: They are drafting fourteen-year-olds. On the Western Front, I command thousands of men who can’t even speak German. I can’t make myself call them soldiers. Even von Rundstedt labels them what they are: refugees. They are already defeated men, and now they stand side by side with what is left of the German army. It is an illusion and it is my job to believe that illusion, and to make it work.” He took a breath, looked at Strölin. “If they had allowed me to do my job, we would have defeated the enemy in North Africa. I would be in Cairo now, or Baghdad or Stalingrad, commanding a victorious army where the strength of Germany was the strength that inspired the entire world. Power and dignity for all of mankind, prosperity—”
“Was that ever real? Now it is you who are creating the illusion! Hitler has slaughtered hundreds of thousands of people in concentration camps all over this land. Civilians, many of them German citizens! I know you are skeptical of that, of the numbers, of the reasons. But how many soldiers have died, some in your own command, killed in a hopeless fight, killed because of insane orders you had to obey? Is your fight not hopeless now? In the east, the Russians have every advantage. Don’t ask me how I know. It is a fact. It is only a matter of time before they cross the Polish frontier and their forces reach our own borders. That was unthinkable four years ago—three years—but it is truth now. Can you keep the Americans and the British out of France? Can your friend Kesselring prevail in Italy? How many enemies can we fight at one time, on how many battlefields? How many wars?”
Rommel felt himself weakening, felt his strength giving way. Damn you. Damn them. I am only a soldier. He looked down for a long moment, then raised his head and stared at Strölin.
“What is your plan?”
Strölin shook his head. “It has not yet advanced to that. There are many among us who are in disagreement.”
“Whether or not you should murder him.”
“I cannot speak of that. All I ask of you is that you offer us your name, let us be encouraged by your endorsement.”
Rommel tried to sort through the thoughts in his brain, but the heat in the closed room was overwhelming him.
“I will not support any effort to assassinate the Führer. No soldier will allow that. The army would never support you. Remember that, Karl. It would be a catastrophic mistake.”
“There is no plan to kill him. That is all I can say.”
Rommel stared again at the desk, thought of von Rundstedt, his generals, the griping about his orders. I am a soldier, I will always be a soldier, and when the enemy comes, I must fight him, and if I can I will destroy him. I must destroy him. This must be the only thing that matters.
“Karl, I cannot put myself at the head of some kind of conspiracy. I love my country, and I love the army, and I will do what I believe to be the best for Germany. I am not even certain what that might be, not now, not with all you have said. I cannot dismiss you, I cannot ignore what you say. No matter what you do now, you must use great caution. I do not want to hear anything of your movements or who you talk to. I cannot support such a plan, not now, perhaps not ever. No matter what you say, I am still a loyal officer of the Reich, and I will obey the orders I am given. And right now I have to fight a war.”
----
PART TWO
----
Gashed with honourable scars, low in glory’s lap they lie, Though they fell like stars, streaming splendor through the sky.
JAMES MONTGOMERY (1771—1854)
In war, there is no prize for runner-up.
GENERAL OMAR BRADLEY
----
6. ADAMS
----
MEMBURY, BERKSHIRE, ENGLAND
MARCH 18, 1944
H e was one of the few enlisted men who stood with the officers, the reviewing stand dotted with uniforms of various colors: Sergeant Jesse Adams, on the highest row, the very back, just
“Was that ever real? Now it is you who are creating the illusion! Hitler has slaughtered hundreds of thousands of people in concentration camps all over this land. Civilians, many of them German citizens! I know you are skeptical of that, of the numbers, of the reasons. But how many soldiers have died, some in your own command, killed in a hopeless fight, killed because of insane orders you had to obey? Is your fight not hopeless now? In the east, the Russians have every advantage. Don’t ask me how I know. It is a fact. It is only a matter of time before they cross the Polish frontier and their forces reach our own borders. That was unthinkable four years ago—three years—but it is truth now. Can you keep the Americans and the British out of France? Can your friend Kesselring prevail in Italy? How many enemies can we fight at one time, on how many battlefields? How many wars?”
Rommel felt himself weakening, felt his strength giving way. Damn you. Damn them. I am only a soldier. He looked down for a long moment, then raised his head and stared at Strölin.
“What is your plan?”
Strölin shook his head. “It has not yet advanced to that. There are many among us who are in disagreement.”
“Whether or not you should murder him.”
“I cannot speak of that. All I ask of you is that you offer us your name, let us be encouraged by your endorsement.”
Rommel tried to sort through the thoughts in his brain, but the heat in the closed room was overwhelming him.
“I will not support any effort to assassinate the Führer. No soldier will allow that. The army would never support you. Remember that, Karl. It would be a catastrophic mistake.”
“There is no plan to kill him. That is all I can say.”
Rommel stared again at the desk, thought of von Rundstedt, his generals, the griping about his orders. I am a soldier, I will always be a soldier, and when the enemy comes, I must fight him, and if I can I will destroy him. I must destroy him. This must be the only thing that matters.
“Karl, I cannot put myself at the head of some kind of conspiracy. I love my country, and I love the army, and I will do what I believe to be the best for Germany. I am not even certain what that might be, not now, not with all you have said. I cannot dismiss you, I cannot ignore what you say. No matter what you do now, you must use great caution. I do not want to hear anything of your movements or who you talk to. I cannot support such a plan, not now, perhaps not ever. No matter what you say, I am still a loyal officer of the Reich, and I will obey the orders I am given. And right now I have to fight a war.”
----
PART TWO
----
Gashed with honourable scars, low in glory’s lap they lie, Though they fell like stars, streaming splendor through the sky.
JAMES MONTGOMERY (1771—1854)
In war, there is no prize for runner-up.
GENERAL OMAR BRADLEY
----
6. ADAMS
----
MEMBURY, BERKSHIRE, ENGLAND
MARCH 18, 1944
H e was one of the few enlisted men who stood with the officers, the reviewing stand dotted with uniforms of various colors: Sergeant Jesse Adams, on the highest row, the very back, just
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