Heinrich Gimpel looked around the banquet, situated in the grand rotunda of the Old Courthouse in St. Louis. It was...quaint.
That’s not fair, I suppose. It is an impressive building, for its time and place, Heinrich thought. He’d read on some of the plaques that parts of the building dated back to the 1830s, and that the present structure, and in particular the dome, dated from the 1860s.
Older than the German nation, in some respects, Heinrich mused. But for a man who worked practically next door to Berlin’s Great Hall, any other domed structure paled in comparison.
Still, the St. Louis Mayor and the Missouri Governor had done their best to make the space impressive. American and German national flags draped the sides of the space. Special lighting was also being used to set the mood. A US Army band played a mix of waltzes, mellow swing music, and other such tunes that befitted a state occasion. The room at the bottom of the rotunda was filled with uniformed German and American dignitaries. The speeches had been over for a while, for which Heinrich was very grateful. The Americans were trying to put their best foot forward, and spoke about American-German partnership, the strength of the Aryan race, and all the other usual folderal that one expected at such an event. The German officials were similarly pat in their comments. Even General Schneider, the head of Wehrmacht’s North American Plains Army, had given a bland speech about the might of Germanic peoples the world over in their continued struggle against non-Aryan threats. The conversations at his table were much more interesting, particularly with Senator Pembrook and his assistant,
Herr Fontenoy.
“Senator, be honest with me, everything we hear about your upcoming election points to your party being tossed out of power. What then?” Heinrich asked, truly curious.
“Well
Herr Gimpel, I won’t sugar coat it like some of my colleagues in the Senate might. The reforms began by the Fuhrer have continued to ripple through this nation, and I think we are looking at the return of political pluralism in the United States.”
“I believe I read in the
Omaha Eagle that your colleague from New York, Senator Trump, believes that the FJP will keep hold of the Senate this year. Do you agree?”
Pembrook chuckled, and Heinrich was fairly certain he exchanged an eye-roll with his assistant. “Don has long been good at believing what he wants despite realities on the ground. Back when he was Mayor of New York City he was able to bring about what he wanted on sheer strength of will. That doesn’t really translate into the Senate. The New Federalists will likely take the Senate in November, I’m afraid. Though they’d be better than the Liberty Party. Those bastards are outright radical, and I think they’ll do more harm than good.”
“Why not ban the Liberty Party then?” Heinrich asked, in what he would privately describe as “professional mode.” Personally he wished the Liberty Party luck, as they were truly fighting for democracy, but in his current job, he couldn’t show that.
“If this were another time,
Herr Gimpel, we would. But those times seem to be fast evaporating. If we are going to continue to maintain the public’s support of national socialist principles at all, we have to find ways for the minority opposition to vent off steam.”
“True enough, I suppose. We are seeing that at home, after a fashion. But the DNP is just a political vehicle for the military. It’s not that different from the NSDAP, when you get down to it.”
The Senator looked thoughtful. “Time will tell. It is my hope that giving some semblance of choice will renew and strengthen the state and allow American National Socialism to reinvent itself and continue on for generations to come. Otherwise, we stagnate and cannot survive.”
Heinrich nodded agreement at that. Indeed, that was essentially the line Buckliger and Stolle and other Nazi reformers had been saying for the past eight years following the failed coup. This upcoming American election would likely be a real test of that, even more so than the debate around the Grand Reform Bill back home. It made him both excited and very nervous. On the one hand, for the first time since he found out he was a Jew, Heinrich thought it just might be possible that, if not in his own lifetime, then certainly that of his children, Jews might once again be able to live freely. At a certain point, the reforms would become too much for the Nazi state and it would collapse. He was sure of that. On the other hand, such collapse could be quite violent, and what emerged on the other side of it might be just as bad. As the senator had said, only time would tell.
**********
The next day was a visit to Fort Wilhelm, which lay about fifteen kilometers west of Saint Louis. This was one of the larger
Wehrmacht Bases in the United States, and home to at least twenty thousand soldiers, only smaller than the bases at New York City and Los Angeles. Heinrich had been mildly fascinated by the drive out to the base, seeing the urban and suburban American landscape that was subtly different from that of Omaha, and vastly different from anything he was used to in Germany. The apartment blocks of Saint Louis gave way to the suburban single-family dwellings, most of which dated from before the Third World War. Heinrich suspected that not much had changed in some of these communities that had been white-only long before the
Reich’s racial policies were imposed on the United States.
He also caught sight of some iconic Americana - the golden arches of one of the country’s most popular fast-food chains, one of the few to survive the war largely intact. Heinrich hadn’t had the chance to sample it yet, but had already been told it lived up to everything Germans thought of when the envisioned greasy American food. He’d also seen several of the Uncle Willie’s establishments already. The chain delivered decent approximations of German food, and was generally popular anywhere near Wehrmacht bases, but, from what Heinrich had heard, they were spreading across the US and becoming quite popular. He made a mental note to try one when they got back to Omaha if he had the chance.
The fort itself was largely what he’d expected to find. Sprawling, full of the machinery of war, and plenty of swastika banners to remind the locals of who had won the war half a century before. The imagery wasn’t subtle either, though when was fascist iconography ever subtle? The main gate had a towering Germanic Eagle above it, it’s wings stretching to cover the entire gate for both incoming and outbound traffic. Uniformed guards stood watch, and clicked to attention and saluted at the arrival of the motorcade of German and American officials. General Schneider gave them a quick overview tour. From what Heinrich could see, it was obvious that the Riech was still maintaining massive strength, even after the drawdown in forces that Buckliger had done after becoming Fuhrer. One of the main arguments that the Americans were pushing was that the Reich was keeping too large a force and that was why the yearly occupation assessment was, in their view, too high.
“General Schneider,” Heinrich began to ask, “Our American hosts here have continued to say that they envision their country as becoming an ally to the
Reich, and as such the continued presence of so great an occupation force is unnecessary. What say you?”
The general paused for a moment before answering. Heinrich knew it was a tricky question, but one that he and his group had to ask. It was really at the heart of this whole mission. “Well, obviously I support the Fuhrer’s initial drawdown that he did almost a decade ago. We really did have too many soldiers here back then. To be frank, we had maintained essentially the same troop levels since the occupation began in 1971, and that was too high.”
“Yes of course. But can we afford to go lower? Can America really be an ally?” This was Heinrich’s boss, Richard Altenburg.
The general mulled his words carefully. “In some respects, yes, America has the potential to be more of an ally than merely an occupied nation. But it is a fine line, and frankly with the current political situation developing I am uncertain. The FJP make excellent partners. But who can say what will happen after this November’s election? As for the number of troops we have here, we would probably be safe with another reduction. We still have nearly 150,000 men under arms here, and the American military is nowhere near what it used to be.”
**********
Unlike Omaha or even Saint Louis, San Diego was quite a new and surprising experience. The weather was amazing, even for January, and it made Heinrich dread returning to Omaha all the more. It was also unlike any city Heinrich had ever visited, due in large part to the presence of the Japanese Naval Base located there. San Diego was a fusion of America and Japan. The neon signs on the buildings were written in both Japanese and English. Japanese eateries were as common as American ones (and he hadn’t seen a single Uncle Willies in his admittedly limited time in the city). The Japanese Consul in San Diego, Norio Hokama, was a middle-aged man, slightly greying at the temples, and taller than the average man from his country. He had greeted them at the airport and was now riding with Heinrich and his boss and their assistants in a limousine, giving a tour. Technically speaking, San Diego was just as much a part of the United States as Saint Louis. The reality of the situation was another matter. The entire city, along with a rather large ring of land surrounding it, was considered a special military district, and the Japanese had special jurisdiction. While locals retained their American citizenship, the city largely functioned as a Japanese colonial holding. Heinrich was fairly certain he saw the red-disk-on-white flag of the Japanese Empire more often than the Stars and Stripes since they’d arrived.
From the airport, they headed down Harbor Drive, and off to the right, they could see San Diego Harbor and all of the civilian and military ships that were going too and fro and also at anchor. There was constant activity. Before long, the small motorcade arrived at the Japanese Consulate, an impressive fifteen-story building built in the neo-traditional style popular in Japan, all glass and steel and mimicking an ancient pagoda. Unlike the more modest building in Omaha that housed the Japanese Embassy, the consulate in San Diego was all about power projection and reminding the locals of who really held power. Japanese soldiers in khaki uniforms came to attention as the entourage pulled into the compound. Heinrich and the rest of the German and American officials were quickly ushered inside. The main entry hall was a grand three-story atrium, decked out for the arrival of the delegation in both Japanese and German flags. At the far end of the hall was the golden chrysanthemum disk of the Japanese Emperor, and portraits of Emperor Akihito and his bride on either side. Heinrich noted that the photographs were at least a decade old. The aging ruler of the Japanese Empire was 86 years old, and there was a building rumor that he may abdicate in the near future.
The meeting with the consul and the senior staff from the naval base took place the next morning, in a grand conference room near the top of the consulate building, with a commanding view of the harbor and the Pacific Ocean beyond. The crux of the conversation was not all that different than what had occurred in Saint Louis: the cost of the occupation. There were some in the Reich that wondered whether or not Japan could share a greater cost, as a way to counterbalance a second draw-down in German forces. Heinrich favored this idea, as much as he could, but wasn’t sure the higher-ups could really stomach that. America was the
Reich’s, not Japan’s.
Hokama sounded skeptical about such an idea, at any rate. “The imperial government is looking at similar draw-downs in occupied areas. There are nearly 60,000 soldiers, sailors, and pilots here in San Diego, and His Imperial Majesty, his son the Crown Prince, and senior government ministers all wish to reduce this in the coming years. Increasing our presence here is not possible.”
Heinrich tried not to make a face of disappointment. If Japan was wanting to draw-down too, the powers that be in the Wehrmacht would not want to do so as well.
“Are you not worried that such a draw-down will strengthen the United States?” This question came from Altenburg.
“It could be that such a thing might occur. But have you not spent the last half-century remaking America in your own image? Could America now be an ally, as Senator Pembrook and his allies propose?” Hokama gestured to the Americans at the table. Pembrook nodded at the consul, and then spoke up.
“That is exactly our hope, Consul Hokama. America is a different nation than it was in 1971. We can be a partner with the
Reich, not an enemy.”
Altenburg did not look fully convinced, and neither was Henrich. Maybe if the FJP was totally in charge, the idea would sound more realistic. As it was, with the FJP poised to be out of power, Henrich worried that the new political movements might want to have America try and supplant the
Reich. And no matter how he felt about that privately, as a Jew, his professional side knew that that was all too likely to lead to a devastating war.
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