Heroes, David Hagberg [me reader .txt] 📗

“Our mounting difficulties?”

“We have to realize, however, that such a war, in which our entire nation is giving its all and the people at home are being called on for achievements very different from the first war, will not immediately be succeeded by a golden age. All our resources will be required to rebuild Germany and create fresh openings for her continued development.”

The corporal was grinning mindlessly, but the criminal consul was hanging on Canaris’ rapid-fire words. Or at least he seemed to be.

“You have to bear in mind—and I told this to Oster and Pfuhlstein—that even after the war we will initially encounter a great internal foreign resistance which will inevitably make it hard for us to rebuild at speed and regain our footing abroad.”

“But this we will overcome?”

“Yes, of course. But we will have to attune ourselves to the idea that everyone would have to continue making sacrifices and place himself exclusively at the service of the Fatherland. Everyone would have to accept the need to lead a simple life in order

‘, to lay the fundamentals of better living conditions for the rising generation.”

“What is this pigshit coming from the sailor boy’s mouth, [ Herr Stawitzky?” the corporal asked disgustedly.

I “No, no, he is being consistent. You must give him that,” the criminal consul said. He turned and picked another file from the table. He thumbed through some of the documents it contained, finding the one he was looking for. “Here it is. On September 13th of last year, and again on September 21st, you made essentially the very same statements.”

God help him, he could not remember. Had he said those things?

“What does this mean?” Stawitzky asked pleasantly.

“I am telling the truth,” Canaris said, still racking his memory.

He had been taken to Prinz-Albrecht Strasse by then. Oster and | Pfuhlstein had been there. Or had they?

“No! You lie!” Stawitzky screamed. “It is all lies!”

The rat-faced corporal went to the hose in the corner and turned on the water. He uncoiled it and began running water beneath and around Canaris’ chair. Whatever it meant, it terrified ; him.

I “You still have a chance, Herr Admiral, to save your soul, to confess your sins. Our Fuhrer is a compassionate man. He will certainly forgive you.”

Love for his Fuhrer rose in Canaris’ breast. “I never plotted against him …”

“Lies!” the corporal bellowed, dropping the hose.

Canaris turned toward him as a huge fist seemed to rocket out | of nowhere, connecting with a sickening crunch with his nose.

Canaris’ head snapped back, and the chair crashed backwards, his head bouncing off the wet concrete floor and the ceiling bursting into a billion tiny shards of light.

Berlin was a wasteland. It was Sunday afternoon, April the first. Dieter Schey strolled through the Tiergarten arm-in-arm with Marlene Hetbronn. There were a lot of other Germans out and about today. There had been a twelve-hour lull in the bombing. Like gophers coming out of

” *

their holes to sniff the air, the people had come from their hovels ;

to enjoy the brief respite. {

Marlene had been a rising young actress before the film indus try had been ruined by the war. Now she was a regular at OKW [

headquarters here and out at Zossen. She clung to Schey’s arm as if she were afraid he would suddenly disappear.

Like most Germans these days, her skin had a pallor which I resulted from her mostly underground existence. Although the |

Fiihrer would not have her and the other “sluts” in the Fiihrer ‘

Bunker, Schey had found her a reasonably secure basement apartment in Charlottenburg which was safe from all but a direct I

hit by a large bomb. ,

“All this madness will stop very soon, will it not, Dieter?” she asked. Schey looked at her and nodded absently. He had been looking I

at the animal cages in the zoo. They were empty. Most of the ;

animals were gone. Someone at headquarters had whispered that the people had eaten the creatures. Everyone was afraid to tell the | Fiihrer.

“It’s very sad,” he said. “The whole thing is sad, you know. What happened to our ;

Germany? What has that madman done to us?” Schey came out of his thoughts and stopped. He shook his head. “You should not say things like that, Marlene. Not to someone like me who works at headquarters.” I

She smiled and patted him on the cheek. “You’re a nice boy, Dieter, and your loyalty to the end is touching. But you’re not facing the facts.”

“I came back to help.”

“Indeed. That was your first mistake …”

Schey turned away. These days he could no longer bring up a clear picture in his mind of Katy back in Oak Ridge or of Eva where she fell in New York City. Instead, he was seeing a montage of them both. It was like double vision. Like what he imagined a schizophrenic might see.

Actually, getting out of New York City had been easy, as had crossing the Canadian border disguised as Canadian soldiers. It had taken nearly two days to make it to the airfield in a remote section of Newfoundland, and two more days from there to their refueling depot in Greenland, then on to Norway, and finally home.

There had been a lot of confusion when he returned. Some of the officers treated him as a hero, while others at headquarters treated him as a big fool. There were even snickers when he was given the Iron Cross, in gold. The Fiihrer himself had hung it around his neck, with shaking hands, in what should have been the highlight of his life.

But Katy and Eva were dead and gone. His parents were killed in a bombing raid more than a year ago, and Berlin had never even bothered to inform him. There was no one else in Germany for him. He could not stand to be alone. Especially not at night, when he would hear his son crying and coughing in the upstairs bedroom of their Oak Ridge home.

“I’m sorry. Dieter,”