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“Print it,” Bauer said to Gerlich, realizing that his voice was trembling with anger, with fear, with something. “Print all of this in your newspaper.”
“I’ll run a special edition.” Gerlich got to his feet and grabbed his coat.
“Fritz,” said Bauer, “what are you hearing about Hitler becoming chancellor?”
Gerlich shrugged. “We aren’t hearing much from Berlin. Schleicher is trying to form a coalition government. I would imagine he wants to appease the National Socialists, but he despises Hitler and the Nazis almost as much as President von Hindenburg does. Everything slowed down over the Christmas holiday. My guess is we won’t see any real action in Berlin until mid-January.”
Gerlich left. Bauer leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
“Long live President von Hindenburg,” he mumbled. “And long live Chancellor von Schleicher.”
61
Hermann Göring’s office
Berlin
IN THE CAPITAL CITY of Berlin, where Fritz Gerlich’s small Munich periodical Der Gerade Weg made little impact, Adolf Hitler met with Franz von Papen, the man who until recently had held the position of chancellor of Germany.
“Chancellor,” he greeted von Papen, using his former title. “A pleasure as always.”
“Herr Hitler.” Von Papen shook his hand with only a mild expression of displeasure.
“May we sit?” said Hermann Göring. As the newly minted Reichstag president, Göring hosted the meeting in his spacious office, amid flags of the Weimar Republic and portraits of President von Hindenburg and the current chancellor, von Schleicher.
“If I may begin.” Hitler folded his hands together. “We have not always seen eye to eye, but I have always greatly respected your intellect, your courage, and your sense of fairness.”
“You have not always said so.” Franz von Papen was a career diplomat and aristocrat, the son of a wealthy landowner who had served as military attaché to the German embassy in Washington, DC, during the Great War. With his upper-class privilege and high-minded carriage, fluency in French, English, and German, von Papen embodied everything that Adolf Hitler resented.
“The political arena is ripe with overstatement and exaggeration.” Hitler gave his brightest smile. “I have never varied in my private opinion that you are a formidable statesman with many gifts, not the least of which is your love of country. And your long memory.”
“My long memory.” Von Papen raised his eyebrows.
“However I may have fought for the same appointment as you, I was appalled at how von Schleicher undercut you.” Hitler wagged his finger. “You deserved better. And I must add, the thought of von Schleicher remaining chancellor is frankly intolerable.”
“Yes. On that we most certainly agree.” Von Papen nodded, his eyes narrowing. “And speaking of undercutting—I could not help but notice that the National Socialists expelled Gregor Strasser from the party this week. Just as Strasser was poised to accept the position as vice-chancellor.”
“We had no choice but to do so.” Hitler nodded gravely, Göring doing the same. “Whatever the timing may have been, Chancellor, I can assure you that his expulsion had nothing to do with politics. Strasser was insisting on policy positions that were firmly at odds with the majority plank of our party.”
“Nothing to do with politics. I see.” Von Papen sat back in his chair, not hiding his smirk. “Well, Herr Hitler, you asked for this meeting. It seems you have a proposal. I suggest you get to it.”
62
PRESIDENT PAUL VON HINDENBURG sat in his office, fighting back a nasty cough and wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. “You must forgive me, Hermann. The ailments of an old man.”
“Not at all, Mr. President.” Hermann Göring’s reputation as a war hero, and his outsized personality, had allowed him to transcend party politics. He’d always had a strong relationship in particular with von Hindenburg, a war hero himself of not only the Great War but the Austro-Prussian and Franco-Prussian wars. For much that reason, Göring wore his gray military uniform today.
“Hermann, I’m eighty-five years old. I was never much for bullshit, and I sure as hell won’t start now.” Dressed in his dark horsehair three-piece suit, his thick mustache curling on each end, with a strong but weathered face, the president leaned forward on his desk. “I respect you. Hell, I even like you. But I don’t like that son of a bitch you call your leader.”
Göring opened his hands. “He is… an acquired taste, Mr. President. I understand that. But he is more bark than bite. He is a skilled politician who can appeal to his base, but as a leader, he would be far more pragmatic than dogmatic.”
The president cleared his throat, akin to the starting of a stubborn engine. “Not so pragmatic that the National Socialists will agree to a coalition government. You’ve boxed in von Schleicher the same way you did von Papen.”
Göring acknowledged as much. “And there are only so many times you can replace a chancellor and ignore the man who ran second to you for president.”
“Oh, you think that’s my only option? It’s not, Hermann.” Von Hindenburg unleashed another coughing spasm, reaching for a glass of water. After a moment, he continued. “Do you know what von Schleicher wants me to do? He wants me to disband the Reichstag and rule as a dictator. I am seriously considering that.”
Göring had heard the rumors. He knew a bluff when he heard one. “Mr. President, you have been the most fervent supporter of democracy I’ve known. And here you are presented with a political party that has garnered the most seats in parliament, and whose leader received the second-most votes for president. A lover of democracy would say that you should appoint this man Reichskanzler.”
