Kat should send some Police units to Judenbach to be trained in house clearing techniques and for marksmanship.

It seems as if Kat's signing up as a police officer or possibly as a detective, not as a commander. Judenbach house clearing techniques aren't appropriate where attention is paid to questions about collateral damage.
 
If I remember its a knife to the nuts. Effective

"I'll only cut one off to start with. I'll cut the other one off if you don't tell me what want to hear. Which one first, the left or the right?"

Edit: First appeared in Part 20, Chapter 220. I never get tired of rereading that.
 
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Part 49, Chapter 661
Chapter Six Hundred Sixty-One


10th June 1948

Berlin

After weeks of observing the forest in Silesia getting back into the swing of things was proving difficult for Ilse. Listening to the Professors lecture about natural processes clearly wasn’t the same as being in the field and taking notes. Then there was the knowledge of where the pork sausage in the freezer had come from. That was not to say that being back in Berlin was all bad. The last week she’d been in Kleinburg, Sonje and Caecilia had shown up. The two youngest von Richthofen sisters had proven just as vapid and shallow as Helene had said they were. Ilse had trouble reconciling the idea that Sonje was two years older than her and Caecilia was her age. They both came across as if they were much younger than her. When Ilse got back to Berlin she had talked to Gia and Asia about it, Gia had said that it was because they had never had to make a hard choice or wanted for anything in their entire lives.

That struck Ilse as sort of odd, never once had she ever thought of the various hardships she had endured in her life as anything positive. Neither Gia or Asia had would have wanted the Russians to kill their parents if given a choice, Ilse most certainly wouldn’t have asked to be abandoned. Yet there were Helene’s sisters, living examples of what unexamined lives looked like. Once she had gotten home Ilse had learned that Kat had decided that she wanted to be a detective and Helene was working towards becoming a school teacher of all things…

“An interesting piece of field research, Frau Tritten” The Professor said snapping her thoughts back to the present, “Exactly how did you come by this information?”

“I was present while the property owner was conducting a hunt to dispose of feral pigs” Ilse had taken notes regarding the contents of the animal’s stomachs. It seemed that the idea that pigs will eat just about anything was true.

“Nice to see that not everyone wasted their holiday” The Professor said as he looked through the pages that Ilse had typed up and submitted. “The property owner will make his land available in the future?”

“Graf von Richthofen is actually quite supportive of conservation efforts and sees research like this as a part of that” Ilse replied, “He just doesn’t want to anyone there without invitation and there’s a need to be mindful of the fact that the region was affected by the war.”

“How so?”

“Human remains, and unexploded ordinance are present” Ilse said, she had lived around that for weeks and was perfectly comfortable with the idea.

The Professor was clearly surprised by that answer though. She had spent several weeks in a place like that?


Augusta, Georgia

It was a joke that the men who were meeting at the exclusive golf club owned the country, everyone else just lived there. The problem, as they saw was that the very power and authority of the nation was being challenged at every turn. In turn the very basis of their own power was being challenged in ways that had seldom happened in the past. They were the Titans of industry, the holders of vast wealth that they had used to steer the direction of the Nation. Within the United States the situation was fluid, they could no longer control the direct outcomes with wealth alone. The fact that the man who was most likely going to be the next President of the United States had bluntly told their intermediary to fuck off when offered their patronage.

After years of a simmering conflict the Deep South was about to blow. In the North the agitation by labor had reached a fever pitch as the current recession had deepened. All the men present in this room were acutely aware of what had happened in Russia decades earlier, where the largest land empire in the world had been brought to grief in a matter of months by a combination of inept leadership and rotten luck. To add insult to injury it had been the Bolsheviks who had taken over and the Royal family had been forced to flee into exile. While the Germans might have disposed of the Bolsheviks, they were still presenting the world a different economic and political model than the one that had long been practiced in the United States.

The situation was enough to cause a great deal of consternation among the members of this club who lacked imagination. There were others who recognized the opportunities that this presented, in chaos they could steal. It was just a matter of creating the correct sort of mess.


Tallahassee, Florida

It was all simple enough, fudge the records and turn a blind eye as crates were removed from the warehouse. The Night Watchman even helped them load the crates onto the truck, these were local boys who understood what they were doing. Behind the Watchman in the warehouse was the equipment that was intended to have been used to have been used to destroy the contents of those crates. Instead they were being redirected elsewhere, preferably somewhere far away. Unknown to the Watchman, his was not the only warehouse with crates being picked up that night. Even if he had known, he just would have viewed it as the cost of doing business.
 
It was all simple enough, fudge the records and turn a blind eye as crates were removed from the warehouse. The Night Watchman even helped them load the crates onto the truck, these were local boys who understood what they were doing. Behind the Watchman in the warehouse was the equipment that was intended to have been used to have been used to destroy the contents of those crates. Instead they were being redirected elsewhere, preferably somewhere far away. Unknown to the Watchman, his was not the only warehouse with crates being picked up that night. Even if he had known, he just would have viewed it as the cost of doing business.
Any Ideas for what was inside those crates?
 
So the Americans are going to discover how it feels to have a Revolution erupting in their own soil?
I think it may be a last stand but I am leaning to the above quote.
Dewey is thought to be toast and Truman is worst than a radical, he is a competent reformist and earlier Peabody-Martini had a post were Rosa Luxembourg was disappointed by the reforms and Lang made the comment that the real enemy of the radical is the reformer and that is also the same for the reactionary.
The smart ones in that bunch will go along with the reforms because they will get richer in the long term and the stupid ones who have more money than brains will make the wrong choices because they can't see that the future is going to happen whether they like or not.
 
Augusta, Georgia

It was a joke that the men who were meeting at the exclusive golf club owned the country, everyone else just lived there. The problem, as they saw was that the very power and authority of the nation was being challenged at every turn. In turn the very basis of their own power was being challenged in ways that had seldom happened in the past. They were the Titans of industry, the holders of vast wealth that they had used to steer the direction of the Nation. Within the United States the situation was fluid, they could no longer control the direct outcomes with wealth alone. The fact that the man who was most likely going to be the next President of the United States had bluntly told their intermediary to fuck off when offered their patronage.

After years of a simmering conflict the Deep South was about to blow. In the North the agitation by labor had reached a fever pitch as the current recession had deepened. All the men present in this room were acutely aware of what had happened in Russia decades earlier, where the largest land empire in the world had been brought to grief in a matter of months by a combination of inept leadership and rotten luck. To add insult to injury it had been the Bolsheviks who had taken over and the Royal family had been forced to flee into exile. While the Germans might have disposed of the Bolsheviks, they were still presenting the world a different economic and political model than the one that had long been practiced in the United States.

The situation was enough to cause a great deal of consternation among the members of this club who lacked imagination. There were others who recognized the opportunities that this presented, in chaos they could steal. It was just a matter of creating the correct sort of mess.

I'm liking Truman more and more.

It's a pity that Smedly Butler got killed before he wrote War Is A Racket (downloadable full text in a variety of formats).

Further comment would land me in Chat territory.
 
I'm liking Truman more and more.

It's a pity that Smedly Butler got killed before he wrote War Is A Racket (downloadable full text in a variety of formats).

Further comment would land me in Chat territory.

I came across the following musings by Manfred von Richtofen:

Chapter Five Hundred Twenty-One

21st January 1946

A rigidly stratified society proved fertile ground for the likes of Marx, Lenin and Robespierre and the opportunistic infections that followed, such as Stalin and Napoleon.

I wonder if we've met the equivalents of Marx, Lenin, Robespierre, Stalin or Napoleon, or if @Peabody-Martini has OTL personages in mind. What happened to the leaders of the Bonus March after they were swept up? I wonder if the BND is paying enough attention to the boiling mud pit that is the USA. Nancy is altogether too far away from New York or DC to report accurately.
 
There is a big difference between the Mafia and Tom Pendergast. Pendergast knew what he was getting with Harry, there was little if any influence peddling between the two. Pendergast understood that you did need some honest folks around him.
 
Part 49, Chapter 662
Chapter Six Hundred Sixty-Two


18th June 1948

Berlin

Kat picked up Ilse at the University in a brand-new car. She had been talking about trading in her Volkswagen Föhn 600 for the new Föhn 1200. The new car had a four-cylinder engine which meant it could drive on the Autobahn rather than be confined to the city. This one was painted two-tone green and white as opposed to the old car that had been painted powder blue like the majority of VW Föhn 600s.

“What do you think?” Kat asked as Ilse got into the passenger seat.

“It’s nice” Ilse said, “You do know that today is…”

“Petia gave me a list of things she needs from the market” Kat said as she pulled into traffic cutting both Ilse and some other car that started honking, “It’s on the floor by your feet, if you could grab it.”

“Yeah, but…”

“The list, Ilse” Kat said sternly.

Ilse looked at Kat in total disbelief. Surely, she had to know what today was?

Ilse reached down to her feet and found the list, the fixings for stew, heavy on turnips from the look of it. Happy birthday to me, Ilse thought bitterly to herself. Kat seemed to be in a state of blissful obliviousness. Why did she have to buy this stupid car today of all days? She now had a family and so far, that had only meant that there were new ways to be disappointed.

Nothing that happened in the market improved Ilse’s mood, Kat was in a hurry. Ilse practically had to run to keep up as she ran through the list. The whole time she was stewing at Kat who was humming to herself. Kat was in a good mood for once? Unbelievable.

As Kat was purchasing the groceries Ilse looked at a collection of premade baked goods that were in a basket next to the cash register. Perhaps she could celebrate her birthday like in past years by getting herself a treat…

“We don’t have time for that” Kat said offhandedly, “We need to get to get moving if we want dinner to be ready on time.”

Ilse wanted more than anything to slap Kat hard across the face at that moment.

Once they were out in the car again Ilse could no longer keep silent. “Today is my birthday” Ilse blurted out.

“And” Kat replied as she put the car into gear, “You’re an adult now, Ilse, it’s just another day.”

Ilse realized that her mouth was hanging open as she stared at Kat who was pointedly ignoring her as she drove through the city traffic. Why was she being so cruel? Kat turned into the alley and stopped the car in front of the garage. “If you could get the door to the garage?” Kat asked. Ilse just wanted to scream at her as she got out of the car and walked to the bay door of the garage. Ilse slid the first part of the door open when Kat honked the horn of the car. Ilse just about had a heart attack. “Sorry!” Kat yelled out the window of the car, “I’m still getting used to it.”

As Ilse opened the other half of the garage door. She was seriously considering giving Kat’s new car a thorough once over with a hammer. Instead, she stood aside and watched Kat pull in. Getting out of the car, Kat opened the hatch on the back of the car, she grabbed the two bags of groceries and handed them to Ilse. Ilse stood there watching Kat close the garage doors and wondered if Aunt Marcella would let her move into the guest room at her house.

“Don’t be so dramatic” Kat snapped, as if she could hear Ilse’s thoughts. She took one of the bags from Ilse and walked towards the house. It was all Ilse could do not to start crying there in the alley. Reluctantly she followed Kat to the house, it was a nice early summer evening and there seemed to be no evidence of anyone around the house. Normally someone would be around, even if it was just Petia smoking one of the two cigarettes she was now allowed per day on the back porch. This was the result of the recent diagnosis of Chronic Bronchitis, the Doctor had told Petia that she could continue to smoke like a chimney or live for another thirty years, but not both.

Kat unlocked the back door and went in. Seldom had Ilse felt so lonely in her life as she walked up those steps to the back door.

“SURPRISE!” A dozen voices collectively yelled as soon as Ilse stepped into the kitchen. Ilse was blinded by the flash of a camera as she stood there in total shock.


New Haven, Connecticut

The handoff of the payment in gold bullion had gone according to plan. George Bush was pleased with himself. He already had things in motion to turn the bullion into cash that would be laundered into his personal bank accounts. It was the second transaction of that nature that he had conducted in recent months.

The first had been in China where purchasing agents working on his behalf had taken possession of thousands of German made Mauser G31 rifles. The Chinese Government had begun producing their own version of the G44 rifle and had no reason to keep the old ones that had been given to them by the Germans during the Second World War. The Chinese had just wanted rid of them, so they had had sold them for a song. George had turned an incredible profit by selling them, even at below market value, to the African National Congress. The second deal, the one that had just concluded, had involved weapons that had been declared surplus because of the Bradley Report. The US Government had three million Garand rifles produced between 1940 and 1946 in case the United States was pulled into the war. While the design of the Garand was innovative when it was first produced in the thirties it was viewed as being obsolescent by the end of 1946. George had bought the contract to dispose of those weapons. At the warehouses where they were stored, his people were supposed to take a band saw, cut the receivers in half and then send them off to the foundry. George had seen other possibilities. He had contacted the Afrikaners, who had heard whispers of his previous dealings. They were more than receptive to his offer.

Now, George Bush had learned from his father’s mistakes. He had also examined decades of the German duplicity that he had learned of. They kept everything one or two steps removed, he’d seen it when he’d been in the OSS. How many times had they been following a solid lead, only to discover that they had been chasing a corpse or even a man who had never even existed? His father’s mistake on the other hand, was that he'd thought the deals like these in Spain were regular transactions, basically another business deal. The truth was that they needed to be treated like any other covert operation. The other thing was that he’d made it so that if the clients wanted what he was selling then they could handle transport themselves. The ANC had somehow taken care of that, George didn’t care how. The Afrikaners had done it and revealed that they had a disturbing about of support on this side of the Atlantic. Best of all there would be no paper trail leading back to him.

Things in America were about to boil over, everyone knew that. George had listened to the bellyaching at the meeting in Augusta over that very point. The thing he had realized, even before the meeting was that it represented a tremendous opportunity. But, while America was down other powers might be tempted to interfere. Scum killing other scum in South Africa only concerned him because would eventually draw those very powers in and keep them otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future. It had also given him a nice slush fund to use towards his own ends, so things were looking up, for him anyway.
 
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