conniving Semites sell us out today, you
53
tomorrowl … The Jews, the Bolsheviks, the stinking little peoplel We are
all their victims and we do not know it! We fight each other when we should
be fighting them!”
Ulster Scarlett spat. The son of Scarlatti was not interested in the
problems of ordinary men. Ordinary men did not concern him.
And yet he was troubled.
Strasser was not ‘ an ordinary man. The arrogant German officer hated the
ordinary man as much as he did. “What are you going to do when you shovel
these people under ground? Play king of the mountain?”
“Of many mountains. . . . Of many, many mountains.11
Scarlett rolled over away from the German officer.
But he did not clbse his eyes.
Of many, many mountains.
Ulster Scarlett had never thought of such a domain. . . . Scarlatti made
millions upon millions but Scarlatti did not rule. Especially the sons of
Scarlatti. They would never rule…. Elizabeth had made that clear.
“Strasser?”
“Yah?”
“Who are these people? Your people?”
“Dedicated men. Powerful men. The names can not be spoken of. Committed to
rise out of defeat and unite the elite of Europe.”
Scarlett turned his face up to the sky. Stars flickered through the
low-flying gray clouds. Gray, black, dots of shimmering white.
“Strasser?”
“Was ist?”
“Where will you go? After it’s over, I mean.”
“To Heidenheim. My family lives there.”
“Where is it?”
“Halfway between Munich and StuttgarL” The German officer looked at the
strange, huge American deserter. Deserter, murderer, aider and abettor of
his enemy.
“We’ll be in Paris tomorrow night. IT get you your money. There’s a man in
Argenteuil who keeps money for me.”
“Danke.”
Ulster Scarlett shifted his body. Ile earth was next to his face, and the
smell was clean.
“Just … Strasser, Heidenheim. That’s all?”
54
:Thaes all.”
‘Give me a name, Strasser.”
“What do you mean? Give you a namer’
“Just that. A name you’ll know is me when I get in touch with you.”
Strasser thought for a moment. “Very well, Amerikaner. Let’s choose a name
you should find hard to forget-Kroeger.”
“Who?”
“Kroeger-Corporal Heinrich Kroeger, whose head you shot off in the
Meuse-Argonne.”
On November 10 at three o’clock in the afternoon the cease-fire order went
out.
Ulster Stewart Scarlett bought a motorcycle and began his swift journey to
La Haras6e and beyond. To B Company, Fourteenth Battalion.
He arrived in the area where most of the battalion was bivouacked and
started his search for the company. It was difficult. The camp was filled
with drunken, glassyeyed, foul-breathed soldiers of every description. The
order-of-the-early-morning was mass alcoholic hysteria.
Except for Company B.
B Company was holding a religious service. A commemoration for a fallen
comrade.
For Lieutenant Ulster Stewart Scarlett, A.EF.
Scarlett watched.
Captain Jenkins finished reading the beautiful Psalm for the Dead in a
choked voice and then led the men in the Lord’s Prayer.
“Our Father Who art in heaven . . .” Some of -the men were weeping
unashamedly.
It was a pity to spoil it all, thought Scarlett.
His citation read in part:
. . . after single-handedly destroying three enemy machine-gun nests, he
took out in pursuit of a fourth dangerous emplacement, destroying that
also and thereby saving many Allied lives. He did not re-
55
turn and was presumed dead. However, until the fighting ceased a week hence,
Second Lieutenant Scarlett provided B Company with an inspiring cry of
battle. “For Old Rollyl” struck terror in the hearts of many an enemy.
Through -God’s infinite wisdom, Second Lieutenant Scarlett rejoined his
platoon the day following the cessation of hostilities. Exhausted and weak,
he returned to glory. Through presidential order we hereby bestow . . .
56
CHAPTER 5
Back in New York, Ulster Stewart Scarlett discovered that being a hero let
him do precisely as he wished. Not that he had been confined, far from it,
but now even the, minor restrictions such as punctuality and the normal ac-
ceptance of routine social courtesies were no longer expected of him. He had
faced the supreme test of man’s existence–the encounter with death. True,
there were thousands like him in these respects but few were officially
designated heroes, and none was a Scarlett. Elizabeth, startled beyond
words, lavished upon him everything that money and power could make
available. Even Chancellor Drew deferred to his young brother as the male
leader of the family.
And so into the twenties bounded Ulster Stewart Scarlett.
From the pinnacles of society to the owners of speakeasies, Ulster Stewart
was a welcome friend. He oontributed neither much wit nor a great deal of
understanding and yet his contribution was something very special. He was
a man in working sympathy with his environment. His demands from life were
certainly unreasonable but these were unreasonable times. The seeking of
pleasure, the avoidance of pain, the enjoyment of existing without ambition
were all that he seemed to requim
Seemed to requife.
But not what Heinrich Kroeger required at all.
57
They corresponded twice a year, Strassees letters addressed to a general
post office box in mid-Manhattan.
AP4 1920 My dear Kroeger:
It is official. We have given a name and a new life to the defunct Workers
party. We are the National Socialist German Workers party-and, please, my
dear Kroeger, don!t take the words too seriously. It is a magnificent
beginning. We attract so many. The Versailles restrictions are devastating.
11eY reduce Germany to rubble. And yet it is good. It is good for us. The
people are angry, they lash out not only at the victors–but at thow who
betrayed us from withbL
June, 1921 Dear Strasser:
You have Versailles, we have the Volsteadl And it!s good for us, too. . .
. Everyone’s getting a slice of the pie and rm, not missing my share-our
sharel Everybody wants a favor, a payoff-a shipmentl You have to know the
right people. In a short time III be the “right people.- rm not interested
in the money-screw the moneyl Leave that for the kikes and the greasersl
I’m getting something elsel Something far more important…
January, 1922 My dear Kroeger:
It is all so slow. So painfully slow when it could be differeniL The
depression is unbelievable and getting worse. Trunkfuls of currency
virtually worthlesL Adolf Hitler has literally assumed the position of
chairman of the party over Ludendorff. You recall I once said to you that
there were names I could not speak of? Ludendorff was one. I do not trust
Hitler. There is something cheap about hini, something opportunistic.
58
October, 1922
Dear Strasser:
It was a good summer and ifU be a better fall and a great winterl This
Prohibition was tailor-madel It’s madnessl Have a little money up front and
you’re in businessl . . . And what businessl My organization is growing. The
machinery is just the way you’d like it-perfect.
July, 1923
My dear Kroeger:
I am concerned. I have moved north and you can reach me at the address
below. Hitler is a fool. The Ruhr take-over by Poincar6 was his chance to
unite all of Bavaria-politically. IMe people are ready. But they want order,
not chaos. Instead, Hitler rants and raves and uses the old fool Ludendorff
to give him stature. He will do something insane, I feel it. I wonder if
there’s room in the party for both of us? There is great activity in the
nordL A Major Buchrucker has formed the Black Reichswehr, a large armed
force that may find sympathy wtih our cause. I meet with Buchrucker shortly.
We’ll See.
September, 1923
Dear Strasser:
Since last October ifs been a better year than I ever thought possiblel It’s
funny-but a person can find something in his past, something he may hate-and
realize it’s the best weapon he’s got. I have. I lead two lives and neither
meets the otherl It is a brilliant manipulation if I do say so myself I I
think you would be pleased that you didn’t kill your friend Kroeger in
France.
December, 1923
My dear Kroeger:
I head south immediatelyl Munich was a disaster.
59
I warned them not to attempt a forcible putsch. It has to be political-but.
they would not listen. Hitler will draw a long jail sentence, in spite of
our “friends.” God knows what will happen to poor old Ludendorff.
Buchrucker’s Black Reichswehr has been destroyed by von Seeckt. Why? We all
want the same thing. The depression is nothing short’of catastrophic now.
Always it is the wrong people who fight each other. The Jews and the
Communists enjoy it all, no doubt. It is an insane country.
April, 1924 Dear Strasser:
I’ve had my first contact with any real difficultybut it’s under control
now. Remember, Strasser? Control…. The problem is a simple one-too many
people are after the same -thing. Everyone wants to be the big cheesel
There’s plenty for everybody but no one believes that. It’s very much as you