The Invasion of 1950 (5 page)

“A handful of agents, several of whom may be under surveillance,” Himmler said. “They still have Sillitoe in command of their counter-espionage service and he’d a determined man, always pushing the limits of what he can do with his people. We have some links with the British fascists, but they’re definitely being watched and have almost no military capability…”

“That wasn't what I was thinking about,” Skorzeny said. “They have three barracks in London, four counting the one for the Palace Guards; that gives them, at most, several thousand soldiers who could react to us landing. They’re going to react, which means…”

He broke off. “I have been training people for possible operations against Britain,” he said. “If we had some support from the air, we might be able to hit the barracks first, just enough to confuse them and let us land, launch the attack, and then beat it before the British catch us.”

Himmler nodded. “So it can be done?”

“The cost will be very heavy,” Skorzeny said, flatly. He didn’t flinch, but Himmler did; he rarely visited the camps where the slaves were held, just because he hated the sight of blood. “We can get around five hundred commandos into the area, but the British will still have time to react and counter-attack; I estimate that we will have twenty minutes before they start organising a response. Once we have completed the mission, we can fall back and escape, but it won’t be easy.”

Himmler looked at him. “Could your people go to ground until our soldiers get there?”

“Possibility,” Skorzeny said. “We would need some contacts on the far side and…we’ll need British uniforms. The British would shoot us at once if they caught us like that, but it might just allow us a chance to escape in the confusion. Once that’s completed, we will have a chance to escape, particularly in the wake of an invasion. They’re going to be moving units around like crazy and we’ll just blend in with the crowd.”

Himmler nodded. “I take it that I can trust you to handle the mission and brief a commander?”

“I’m going myself,” Skorzeny said, shortly. Himmler lifted an eyebrow. “I said I wouldn’t send anyone on a mission I refused to do myself, so I have to go, and I have the best training and grasp of the situation. The information will have to be shared around the team – if my aircraft gets shot down, Hans or Johan will have to take over – but I think they can be trusted to keep it to themselves.”

He paused. “What is the source of this information?”

Himmler’s lips wanted to twitch into a smile. “Classified,” he said, flatly. “The information is, however, totally reliable.”

Skorzeny held his gaze. “I need to know how to verify it,” he said. “Who is supplying us with information?”

Himmler answered, reluctantly. “A very strange Englishman,” he said, wishing that he could tell Skorzeny the full story. They’d only stumbled upon the connection by accident and – as far as the SS knew – their target knew nothing of who was reading his reports.
He
thought that he was still filing reports to Beria and his agents. “His name is Philby, Kim Philby.”

***

SS Standartenfuhrer
Ludwig Stahl marched into the room, snapped a perfect Hitler salute, and waited for the
Reichsführer-SS
to give him leave to relax – slightly. Stahl had been surprised by the urgent summons back to the Castle from his previous post as SS Commander in what remained of Norway but he expected that the
Reichsführer-SS
had a task for him personally. He had committed no major blunders and, indeed, had been commended for his work in Norway, separating out the Aryans from the undesirables that had infested the ancient homeland. His command was charged with hunting down resistance fighters in the mountains, although, as he ruefully acknowledged, it was likely to take years to kill them all.

“
Herr Reichsfuhrer
,” he barked, as Himmler acknowledged him finally. “
SS Standartenfuhrer
Ludwig Stahl, reporting as ordered!”

“
Heil Hitler
,” Himmler said, shortly. “Your successes in Norway have been noted.”

Stahl allowed himself a slight smile. His force had worked hard to ensure that Aryan Norwegians were brought up to believe in their own supremacy over everyone else, which meant – naturally – separating them from their inferiors. The large number of German servicemen stationed in Norway had actually resulted in hundreds of marriages, which would strengthen the quality of blood in the area and ensure that Norway would be permanently bound to the
Reich
. He’d also used thousands of slave labourers to build new ports, roads, and facilities in the country; the
Reich
intended to use the country as a permanent naval base.

“Thank you,
Herr Reichsfuhrer
,” he said. “I believe that my men, also, deserve some credit.”

Himmler nodded. “We have a new task for you,” he said, simply. “The
Fuhrer
has commanded that Great Britain be brought into the
Reich
, which represents a new opportunity for us and particularly for you. We have four priorities; we must secure the country, prevent any insurgency, eliminate all the undesirables from the country, and bring the British into the
Reich
as Aryans.”

Stahl nodded. The
Reich
regarded France and Italy as degenerate and their inhabitants as subhumans, but Norway, Denmark and other ‘Aryans’ were regarded as potential equals. The Führer’s
ruling would mean that the British wouldn’t be enslaved as a nation, unlike the Slavs, but they would have to be broken to the concept of being part of a greater Aryan community. Their independence would come to an end, they would be expected to inter-marry with the Germans who would settle in their land and they would be expected to fight for the
Fuhrer
. First, however, they would have to be cleared of Jews; Stahl remembered hunting down Jews in Norway and felt nothing but loathing for them.

“The day-to-day occupation of the country will be in your hands,” Himmler said, and Stahl felt a moment of pure excitement. “The
Fuhrer
will select a Governor-General, but under the right circumstances, you will be able to act without referring to him, all towards the overall aim of winning the peace and ensuring that Britain becomes part of the Greater German
Reich
. Your men – an experienced unit from Denmark or France is being prepared for you – will have the task of carrying out your orders.”

Stahl nodded. The
Reich
had created the world’s largest and most precise bureaucracy to ensure that the Führer’s
orders were carried out, one that included a list of everyone within the
Reich
, from the youngest child to the oldest and most useless slave worker. The citizens of Britain would all be registered as well, the first part of a well practised scheme that would bring them all into the
Reich
as obedient servants, and eventually willing allies for the long-term task of controlling the world. The English had an Empire; that Empire, too, would become part of the
Reich
.

“I will not fail you,
Herr Reichsfuhrer
,” he said, standing up in salute.

“I trust that you won’t,” Himmler said, in his maddeningly calm voice. Stahl remembered some of the acts that Himmler had ordered carried out, including the near-complete destruction of several Soviet cities to prevent them from being used to foster the insurgency, and shuddered inside. Himmler had offered him a chance to prove himself on a much larger scale, something that would catapult him to higher rank, but if he failed…the blame would be his and his alone. “The British have had ample opportunity to create a stay-behind movement, so remember; rooting that force out and destroying it, will be the first priority.”

“Yes,
Herr Reichsfuhrer
,” Stahl said. He had had experience in hunting down the handful of insurgency-supporting networks in Norway; without those networks, the insurgents might as well be bandits, robbing their own people as much as they raided German outpost. “They won’t last long enough to be a problem.”

“Good,” Himmler said. His eyes narrowed slightly in warning. “Remember, you represent the SS and we will all be judged by your performance.
Heil Hitler
!”

“
Heil Hitler
,” Stahl echoed.

He snapped to attention and marched out of the room.

Near Bergen, Occupied Norway

Gruppenkommandeur
Albrecht Schmidt,
Jagdgeschwader 2 Richthofen
, stood to attention with the remainder of the senior officers as General Adolf Galland entered the room. Galland had been one of the heroes of the service, flying against England and Russia before being promoted and given command of
Luftwaffe 2
, one of the Luftwaffe’s main air groups.
Luftwaffe
2
had been deployed to the massive base in Norway, built through slave labour, weeks ago; now, it seemed that the senior officers were about to find out why they had been exiled to Norway. The Norwegians weren’t very friendly, and while there were brothels and some girlfriends, the main body of the air group had been confined to the base.

Schmidt watched as Galland waved them to their seats. His assistant had hung a map on the wall, but had covered it up; with a smooth motion, Galland pulled the cover away, to reveal a set of islands and harbours. Schmidt recognised it from his basic briefings; the British naval base at Scapa Flow, due west of Norway. It was perfectly positioned for intercepting any sortie from the Baltic Sea and larger than the massive bases the Kriegsmarine
had been building in Norway. It had been discussed as a possible target for years now.

“The British have been causing us problems recently,” Galland said, giving what every man there knew was the official line. Schmidt knew, as did the other pilots and commanders, that asking questions at the wrong time could be fatal to their careers, if not their health. He knew, unlike many civilians, the true cost of German expansion. “The
Fuhrer
has decided that it is time to settle accounts with them permanently, before they launch an invasion of Europe and attempt to overthrow the regime.”

He paused, expecting no comments. Schmidt said nothing; the idea of the British overthrowing the
Fuhrer
and his government on their own was ridiculous. They might have been able to do it if they had developed their empire like the
Reich
had developed and exploited its empire, but, instead, they were on the verge of granting independence to chunks of the empire, even the jewel in the crown itself. They weren’t a threat to the
Reich
; they even couldn’t
get
at the
Reich
.

“This unit has been marked down for the most important part of Operation Sunset,” Galland continued, his voice calm and firmly in control. “The British Home Fleet at Scapa Flow has to be destroyed, or at the very least severely crippled, and that task has fallen on your heads. Failure to take out the fleet will almost certainly result in a disaster for the invasion force, so we must take out the fleet…we
will
take out the fleet.”

Schmidt ran through it in his head. The force was a mixed one, consisting of the latest aircraft in the German
Luftwaffe
; it prided itself on being the most powerful unit in the world. The British had nothing to match it in the air, but attacking a stationary target like a harbour was very different from fighting it out in the air with British jets.

Schmidt had seen enough of the Gloster Meteor to know that it might not be as good as the German aircraft, but in the hands of a skilled pilot, that wouldn’t matter so much. It could come down to being an even fight…

He had only seen limited service during the war itself, but he’d seen the briefings and assimilated as much as his older fellows could teach him, particularly what had happened during the last air campaign against Britain. The
Luftwaffe
hadn’t been properly prepared for the war, with the result that they hadn’t been able to force the British to surrender.
Richthofen
– the unit had been named for the pilot from the Great War – had been training under the belief that they would go to war with Britain again, maybe against the Americans as well. The Americans were a huge question mark as far as the
Reich
was concerned. Although the official line was that Americans were a mongrel race of mixed blood, Schmidt didn’t have much time for the SS’s version of eugenics.