The Lost Generation by Robert Vaughan

Author:Robert Vaughan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 1992-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Karl and Paul went to the SA headquarters shortly after six that evening. The second-floor office was crowded with dozens of key members of the party: gauleiters, troop commanders, and propagandists. The gray day had delivered on its promise of precipitation, and a heavy, wet snow, mixed with rain, had begun to fall. The office was heated by a small potbellied stove, which burned furiously in the corner. Karl walked over to hold his hands above the stove and warm himself. Though most of the men present were dressed in the light-brown shirt and dark-brown pants that was the uniform of the party, Karl was dressed in the uniform of a Navy commander. At his neck he wore the Blue Max, which garnered instant respect from the others gathered so that even though Karl's rank within the party was not impressive, the uniform and decorations he was wearing this evening were.

Hermann Göring looked even more impressive than Karl, He, too, wore the Blue Max, but he was also the head of the SA and was dressed accordingly. The left sleeve of his uniform bore a specially embroidered swastika armband, and a large white swastika—not tilted but sitting in the upright position—had been painted on the front of the helmet he was wearing. Like the others, Göring was wearing a pistol, but he had also added a ceremonial sword. It was typical, Karl thought, that Göring's uniform was a bit more resplendent than anyone else's, for Göring had a penchant for such things.

Karl thought that Hitler, on the other hand, was almost embarrassing looking. He was wearing a cheaply cut, poorly fitting morning coat and baggy pants. To the left breast of the coat he had pinned his Iron Cross. He looked more like the headwaiter of a run-down restaurant than the head of a party of several thousand members.

Göring came over to Stand beside the stove. He knew of Karl's Blue Max because there were so few of them awarded that the recipients formed a very exclusive fraternity.

“On your way over here, did you notice many Storm Troopers?” Göring asked.

“Not as many tonight as earlier in the day,” Karl answered.

“I'm worried about whether or not they'll all report for duty.”

“Didn't you send out notices?”

“Yes, but the notices were white for routine drill rather than red for emergency. Hitler insisted we do it that way so as not to give away the element of surprise. But I'm afraid that too many of them will not realize the urgency of the call and will choose to stay out of the wet and the cold.”

“Göring!” Hitler called from the other side of the crowded room. “Where are the Storm Troopers? Are they mobilizing?”

“Yes, Herr Hitler, I am certain they are,” Göring answered. “As soon as I get my raincoat on, I am going to the barracks to see to it that they are issued their weapons.”

“Then do it, man, do it,” Hitler said excitedly. “We can't hold up a revolution just because you don't want to get your fancy uniform wet.

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