A Man and a Plane: An Alternate Germany by Major Joseph T

Author:Major, Joseph T [Major, Joseph T]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-02-05T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

British Embassy, Berlin, Brandenburg, Germany, Saturday, August 8, 1936

"His Excellency, the Chancellor of Germany, and Baroness von Richthofen!" the usher said. "Karl-Bolko and Viktoria Baron and Baroness von Richthofen! Mr and Mrs George P. Putnam! Mr Randolph Spencer Churchill!"

"George, he's wearing more jewelry than I am!" Manfred heard Earhart say, joshingly.

"Uncle, she's just jealous," Carmen said, her arm firmly through his.

"Remember Carmen, you will have to leave tonight at ten to go to bed."

This was a different sort of reception; the Reichskanzler, his niece, his brother and sister-in-law, and his foreign guests entered the atrium of the British Embassy. It was in the same block of the Wilhelmstrasse, they could have walked there, but Diels and Admiral von Levetzow tended to turn sickly pale when discussing security for a walk like that, so for the short distance there they drove.

It was a white tie and tails -- and medals -- affair. That was the "jewelry" Earhart was complaining about. Manfred noticed that she wore her Belgian order and that American medal, their Distinguished Flying Cross. Now Slim Lindbergh had their Medal of Honor too, and after the closing ceremonies they both would be knights of the Hohenzollern House Order . . . He dragged himself back to the present.

He had insisted on Randolph coming along, though the young Churchill had made a point of sniffing about "journalistic integrity". To which he had replied, "You mean like those devoted seekers after truth Goebbels, Münzenberg, and Streicher?"

Yesterday's Welt am Abend had had a front-page article about the massacres in Badajoz. "German-made bullets were extracted from the bodies recovered by a team of daring pro-democracy activists who infiltrated the Fascist lines, proof that the government is cooperating with the Fascist enemies of democracy and freedom in Spain." Der Angriff contained a similar comment, only about "A band of racial heroes true to the Aryan spirit of the ancient Visigoths who had built Spain, who infiltrated the Communist lines to discover this vile Judeobolshevik plot." Did some of those writers keep a foot in both camps?

Admittedly Streicher had made a misstep himself. The new issue of Der Stürmer had a grotesque picture of "Nigger-America sports beasts" on the front page and an article calling for "Nigger Owens" to be stripped of his medals on the grounds that the Olympics was for people. An outraged band of track and field fans had taken one seller's bundle of papes and burned them (both Berlin am Morgen and the Vössische Zeitung had made this "censorship" front-page news), and sales for Der Stürmer had generally fallen off in Berlin.

But they had to circulate, and Manfred began to tour the packed reception hall. One of the guests turned his head when they approached. "Shouldn't I be the one with the beautiful dancer who's really a spy, Herr President Firefly?" Papen said, and laughed. "Oh Martha, you remember that silly movie with the brothers."

Frau von Papen said, "I don't get that Herr Groucho's jokes. He talks too fast. He made comments at the American reception about the Kaiser and they went right past me.

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