yet still a powerful one. Hitler liked him, as much for his imperious
military bearing as for his abilities.
At the midpoint of the table, on the left, sat Albert V6gler, the sharp,
aggressive general manager of Reich’s Industry. V6gler was a stout man, the
image of a burgomaster; the soft flesh of his face constantly creased into
a questioning scowl. He laughed a great deal, but his laughter was hard; a
device, not an enjoyment. He was well suited to his position. V6gler liked
nothing better than hammering out negotiations between industrial
adversaries. He was a superb mediator because all parties were usually
frightened of him.
Across from V6gler and slightly to the right, toward Altmaller and Speer,
was Wilhelm Zangen, the Reich official of the German Industrial
Association. Zangen was thin-lipped, painfully slender, humorless; a
fleshed-out skeleton happiest over his charts and graphs. A precise man who
was given to perspiring at the edge of his receding hairline and below the
nostrils and on his chin when nervous. He was perspiring now, and continu-
ously brought his handkerchief up to blot the embarrassing moisture.
Somewhat in contradiction to his appearance, however, Zangen was a
persuasive debater. For he never argued without the facts.
They were all persuasive, thought Speer. And if it were not for his anger,
he knew such men could – probably would – intimidate him. Albert Speer was
honest in self-assessment; he realized that he had no substantial sense of
authority. He found it difficult to express his thoughts forthrightly among
such potentially hostilemen. But nowthe potentially hostile men werein
adefensive position. He could not allow his anger to cause them to panic,
to seek only absolution for themselves.
They needed a remedy. Germany needed a remedy.
Peenerritinde had to be saved.
‘How would you suggest we begin?’ Speer asked Altnitiller,
40
shading his voice so no one else at the table could bear him.
‘I don’t think it makes a particle of difference. it will take an hour of
very loud, very boring, very obtuse explanations before we reach anything
concrete.’
‘I’m not interested in explanations. . .
‘Excuses, then.’
‘Least of all, excuses. I want a solution.’
‘If it’s to be found at this table -which, frankly, I doubt -you’ll have to
sit through the excess verbiage. Perhaps something will come of it. Again,
I doubt it.’
‘Would you care to explain thatT
AltmOller looked directly into Speer’s eyes. ‘Ultimately, I’m not sure
there is a solution. But if there is, I don’t think it’s at this table. .
. . Perhaps I’m wrong. Why don’t we listen first?’
‘All right. Would you please open with the summary you prepared? I’m afraid
I’d lose my temper midway through.’
‘May I suggest,’ Altmflller whispered, ‘that it will be necessary for you
to lose your temper at some point during this meeting. I don’t see how you
can avoid it.’
‘I understand.’
Altmiffler pushed back his chair and stood up. Grouping by grouping the
voices trailed off around the table.
‘Gentlemen. This emergency session was called for reasons of which we
assume you are aware. At least you should be aware of them. Apparently it
is only the Reichsminister of Armaments and his staff who were not
informed; a fact which the Reichsminister and his staff find appalling….
In short words, the PeenemOnde operation faces a crisis of unparalleled
severity. In spite of the millions poured into this most vital weaponry
development, in spite of the assurances consistently offered by your
respective departments, we now learn that production may be brought to a
complete halt within a matter of weeks. Several months prior to the
agreed-upon date for the first operational rockets. That date has never
been questioned. It has been the keystone for whole military strategies;
entire armies have been maneuvered to coordinate with it. Germany’s victory
is predicated on it …. But now Peenemiinde is threatened; Germany is
threatened …. If the projections the Reichsminister’s staff have compiled
– unearthed and compiled – are valid, the Peenemflnde complex will exhaust
its supply of industrial diamonds in less than ninety days. Without
industrial diamonds the precision
41
tooling in Peenemonde cannot continue!
The babble of voices – excited, guttural, vying for attention -erupted the
second AltmUller sat down. General Leeb’s cigarette holder slashed the air
in front of him as though it were a saber; Albert V8gler scowled and
wrinkled his flesh-puffed eyes, placed his bulky hands on the table and
spoke harshly in a loud monotone; Wilhelm Zangen’s handkerchief was working
furiously around his face and his neck, his high-pitched voice in conflict
with the more masculine tones around him.
Franz Altmillier leaned toward Speer. ‘You’ve seen cages of angry ocelots
in the zoo? The zookeeper can’t let them hurl themselves into the bars. I
suggest you lose your benign temper far earlier than we discussed. Perhaps
now.’
‘This is not the way.’
‘Don’t let them think you are cowed.
‘Nor that I am cowering! Speer interrupted his friend, the slightest trace
of a smile on his lips. He stood up. ‘Gentlemen.’
The voices trailed off.
‘Herr Altmijller speaks harshly; he does so, I’m sure, because I spoke
harshly with him. That was this morning, very early this morning. There is
greater perspective now; it is no time for recriminations. This is not to
lessen the critical aspects of the situation, for they are great. But anger
will solve nothing. And we need solutions…. Therefore, I propose to seek
your assistance – the assistance of the finest industrial and military
minds in the Reich. First, of course, we need to know the specifics. I
shall start with Herr V6gler. As manager of Reich’s Industry, would you
give us your estimate?’
V6gler was upset; he didn’t wish to be the first called. ‘I’m not sure I
can be of much enlightenment, Herr Reichsminister. I, too, am subject to
the reports -given me. They have been optimistic; until the other week
there was no suggestion of difficulty.’
‘How do you mean, optimistic?’ asked Speer.
‘The quantities of bortz and carbonado diamonds were said to be sufficient.
Beyond this there are the continuing experiments with lithicurn, carbon and
paraffin. Our intelligence tells us that the Englishman Storey at the
British Museum reverified the Hannay-Moissan theories. Diamonds were
produced in this fashion.’
‘Who verified the Englishman?’ Franz Altmiffler did not
4-2
speak kindly. ‘Had it occurred to you that such data was meant to be passedT
‘Such verification is a matter for Intelligence. I am not with
Intelligence, Herr Altmfiller.’
‘Go on,’ said Speer quickly. ‘What elseT
‘There is an Anglo-American experiment under the supervision of the
Bridgemann team. They are subjecting graphite to pressures in excess of six
million pounds per square inch. So far there is no word of success!
‘Is there word of failureT Altmifller raised his aristocratic
eyebrows, his tone polite. I
‘I remind you again, I am not with Intelligence. I have received no word
whatsoever.’
‘Food for thought, isn’t it-,’ said Altrafiller, without asking a question.
‘Nevertheless,’ interrupted Speer before V6gler could respond, ‘you had
reason to assume that the quantities of bortz and carbonado were
sufficient. Is that not soT
‘Sufficient. Or at least obtainable, Herr Reichsminister.’
‘How so obtainableT
‘I believe General Leeb might be more knowledgeable on that subject!
Leeb nearly dropped his ivory cigarette holder. Altmiiller noted his
surprise and cut in swiftly. ‘Why would the army ordnance officer have that
information, Herr V6gler? I ask merely for my own curiosity!
‘The reports, once more. It is my understanding that the Ordnance Office is
responsible for evaluating the industrial, agricultural and mineral
potentials of occupied territories. Or those territories so projected!
Ernst Leeb was not entirely unprepared. He was unprepared for V6gler’s
insinuations, not for the subject. He turned to an aide, who shuffled
papers top to bottom as Speer inquired.
‘The Ordnance Office is under enormous pressure these days; as is your
department, of course, Herr V6gler. I wonder if General Leeb has had the
time . . .’
‘We made the time,’ said Leeb, his sharp military bearing pitted in
counterpoint to V6gler’s burgomaster gruffness. ‘When we received word –
from Herr V6gler’s subordinates – that a crisis was imminent – not upon us,
but imminent – we immediately researched the possibilities for extrication!
43
Franz Altmillier brought his hand to his mouth to cover an involuntary
smile. He looked at Speer, who was too annoyed to find any humor in the
situation.
‘I’m relieved the Ordnance Office is so confident, general,’ said Speer.
TheReichsministerofArmaments had littleconfidence in the military and had
difficulty disguising it. ‘Please, your extrication?’
‘I said possibilities, Herr Speer. To arrive at practical solutions will
take more time than we’ve been given.’
‘Very well. Your possibilities?’
‘There is an immediate remedy with historical precedent.’ Leeb paused to
remove his cigarette, crushing it out, aware that everyone around the table
watched him intently. ‘I have taken the liberty of recommending preliminary
studies to the General Staff. It involves an expeditionary force of less