Schlieffen rose. Clearly concerned, his face was flushed with uncharacteristic anger. “Battleships? Have you forgotten, All Highest, that an army moves on its stomach? Our food, clothing, and ammunition reserves are gone and with them much of our ability to wage war.” He wheeled and confronted Tirpitz. “I want to know if those supplies will be replaced and just how soon! If they do not arrive within the next few weeks, we will be forced to take drastic action to end this war before the onset of winter makes resupply via the North Atlantic an even more chancy affair than it is now!”
Tirpitz’s face was pale. He was not used to being scolded. “We have already started the resupply effort,” he countered. “Transports from all sources are being gathered and loaded with equipment and supplies. Soon there will be a massive convoy, an armada of more than a hundred transports with everything your army and my navy will need. Furthermore, the kaiser has given me directions that another corps of reserve soldiers will be shipped over with them. I will provide that convoy with the strongest possible escort, and it will get through.”
Now it was Schlieffen’s turn to be startled. He had not been informed that more of his army was being sent to America. A reserve corps would likely be another twenty-five thousand men. Twenty-five thousand additional stomachs to feed and backs to clothe. He recovered quickly and turned to Tirpitz. “You guarantee their arrival?” His voice was a sneer, and even the kaiser looked uncomfortable.
“Yes.”
“You will be using the High Seas Fleet to protect it?”
Tirpitz shook his head vehemently. “No, of course not. We cannot entirely denude Germany of naval protection with the French still so angry at us and the English and Americans off our coasts. No, we will use our existing resources. They will be more than sufficient.” They will have to be, Holstein thought. “The convoy will get through!” Tirpitz slammed his beefy fist on the table. “On my honor!”
Holstein had often wondered about Tirpitz’s honor, and he wondered, therefore, about the worth of the oath. He remained silent, and the meeting was adjourned. While leaving, he managed to walk beside Chancellor von Bulow.
“Von Bulow, you look pale. Do you perhaps have stock in Hamburg-America?”
Bulow barked a laugh. The Hamburg-America Line was the largest shipping company in Germany and one of the largest in the world. When a transport was sunk or captured, it was often one of theirs. “Don’t we all? No, that is not the problem. When von Tirpitz said we were gathering ships from all over, he didn’t say how that was being accomplished. Very simply, the German navy is now commandeering anything that floats and damn the owners, regardless of nationality.”
Even Holstein was astonished. “We are seizing foreign flag vessels?”
“Only from small countries. But there are many of them and they include some of our neighbors, like Holland, Belgium, Norway, and Sweden.”
“Not England, dear God, not England.”
“No, nor any of the lands of the British Empire. Nor are we taking ships on the high seas. But I feel we are courting disaster. Those foreign countries will demand compensation, and will probably not permit other ships to enter our waters until we agree. They may close their ports to our ships as well. Can you imagine the effect on our economy? We will be devastated before long.”
Holstein could indeed imagine. It was becoming increasingly apparent that the war must be won soon if it were to be won at all.
“Von Bulow, have you considered what might happen if we did not win?”
Bulow paled. “It would be a catastrophe, von Holstein, a catastrophe.”
When Ian Gordon returned to his quarters in the pleasant cottage rented for him by His Majesty’s government, he was surprised by the carriage waiting in front of it. His first thought was that it was Mrs. Adams, the woman he’d taken home from the wedding. She was getting to be a bore. He’d had no idea just how much pale fat her clothing obscured. Worse, she was obsessed with him, and he could think of nothing less appealing than someone who continuously craved sex with him and then performed poorly. If it were only his physical needs that required fulfilling, he could accomplish that by himself, as he had as a youth.
He entered his home and his valet informed him of a gentleman waiting for him in the parlor. Did Mrs. Adams have a husband? She had said she was a widow. He entered the parlor and laughed in relief.
“Captain Sigsbee, how are you?”
Sigsbee rose and assured him he was fine. Sigsbee was dressed in a civilian suit and not his naval uniform. It did not surprise Ian, since Sigsbee was the recently appointed director of the Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI). “Ian, I see you’ve managed to land comfortably again.”
“Certainly. After all I am an observer and not a participant. Let the common soldiers live in tents and trenches; I prefer a solid roof and greater comforts.” He poured each of them a brandy and offered cigars, which Sigsbee declined.
“How is the Office of Naval Intelligence? Have you finally gotten into the spying game?” Ian asked. It was a sore point. The ONI and its army equivalent were solely charged with gathering factual data from open sources about other countries’ militaries. They did not spy.
“No,” Sigsbee said, “not yet. We’ll leave spying to you British. You’re so much better at it than we naive Americans.”
“Had you been less naive, Charles, you might not have gone to war with Spain. Did you really believe that saboteurs blew up the Maine?”
Sigsbee hid his grimace behind the snifter. He had been the captain of the Maine when it blew up in Havana harbor and had endorsed the theory of sabotage. He had never been quite comfortable with that conclusion. “I had doubts.”
“Like a lingering fire in a coal bunker being the actual cause? I know. But enough of old times. You obviously have a reason for being here.”
“Indeed. Although we do not spy, sometimes we find things out about our supposed friends that we don’t particularly like.”
Ian put down his glass. Sigsbee’s eyes were cold. “Through informal but reliable sources we have reason to believe that His Majesty’s government is providing Germany with information about our navy, such as its location and disposition. Since you are the senior British officer about, and since you also met recently with your prime minister, I thought you might wish to comment.”
Ian thought for a moment, then he spoke softly. “Someone once said that England is interested only in England, and will go to any lengths to protect England. That, of course, is quite true.”
“You admit it?”
“I admit nothing. It is very much in England’s best interest that Germany not win this war. Notice, I did not say that Germany had to lose, just not win. To assist in this, we have been providing you with both materiel and information. Yet we live in an imperfect world and must confront the fact that a German victory is still very probable. Should that occur, we shall have to continue living with them. Thus all our efforts against them must be indirect so that Germany will not become so irrationally angry as to go to war against us.”
“Surely the navy could stop them.”
“Certainly. But our very real fear is that the Germans will attempt an invasion and that it will, even if unsuccessful, result in a massive bloodletting for very little gain. It is a situation best avoided.”
“What are you saying? Is Britain providing them with information or not?”
“Charles, German military intelligence is not an oxymoron. They are quite clever. Even though we never announced it publicly, they’ve known where the American fleet was gathering since the earliest days of the war. As to the status of particular ships, well really. Just a few weeks ago the Texas had to put in to Halifax because of a boiler problem. Some secret! Germany has a consulate in Halifax; even if it didn’t, are you so sure that all the German immigrants are honest citizens? If you were the kaiser, wouldn’t you plant some spies among them, both in the civilian sector and on your own ships?”
Sigsbee looked uncomfortable. “The matter of immigrants is one of grave concern. There are many Germans in our army and our navy and I am indeed worried about them. Others tell me not to be concerned because so many of them fought so well against Spain or in the Civil War, but those wars were not against their homeland.”
Gordon laughed. “Fighting your so-called homeland is not a unique experience. I seem to recall a recent war in which Americans killed hundreds of thousands of other Americans. Previously, those who called themselves British fought those who no longer wished to be British. I do not think the vast majority of Germans will disappoint you with their patriotic zeal.”