Vengeance 10

The line was coming to an end; the lower ranking technicians were being sped through now. With the usual attention to status, the guests had timed their arrivals to engage in the minimum of shuffling about as the line formed, always according to rank, imagined or real. Now they stood about in glum little clusters, nursing drinks and chatting about inconsequential topics. Clearly Heydrich’s visit and the news concerning slave labour were having a dampening effect.

Bethwig could not understand their attitude. Every section head and administrator had been demanding additional manpower for months, even though they knew it was not to be had. Captured soldiers were an ideal source. And certainly they would find labour at Peenemunde more rewarding than the maddening boredom of a POW camp. There was no reason why they should not be put to work. Most would probably be French, Norwegian, Czech or Danish — good intelligent types. But even Russians and Poles would be acceptable as unskilled labour.

He felt a hand on his arm and turned to see von Braun smiling at him. ‘Come, jackass, our master wishes to see us.’ Again the smile remained fixed as von Braun steered him towards Dornberger’s study, politely fending off two fellow workers who wanted to talk. Bethwig made him stop short of the door and pulled him towards the wall.

‘What the hell is this all about, Wernher? Why do you keep calling me a jackass?’

‘Because you are. Are you trying to get us both in trouble? Why didn’t you come to the meeting?’

‘I had something more important to do. The latest tests…’

‘To hell with them. Nothing is more important right now than keeping that shithead in there on our side.’

‘Shithead? Why, Wernher, I don’t think that quite expresses the proper respect for our revered — what was it you called him? — master?’

‘Stop acting the fool. You know what ‘I’m talking about. There was also that little staring contest between you two a few minutes ago.’ Von Braun hesitated, and Bethwig waited to hear what he was nerving himself to say.

‘Franz, you aren’t in his league. And even if you were, it doesn’t make sense to antagonise the man. If you make him angry enough, you could disappear for ever.’

‘Ah, so you are beginning to recognise that fact, are you?’

‘What the devil are you talking about? Heydrich is a… a.. ‘

‘Gangster?’ Bethwig supplied. ‘Worse than anything the Americans ever turned out?’

‘Of course! So why antagonise him? You are the one who told me we could work with anyone, anyone at all, as long as they made it possible for us to develop the lunar rocket. Remember?’

‘Wernher, I do not understand you at all. Did you not publicly disagree with Heydrich at the meeting?’

A grimace of exasperation flashed across von Braun’s face. ‘Of course I did. But that was entirely different. A matter of disagreeing as to procedures, not outright contempt such as you showed.’

Bethwig recognised the note of entreaty in his friend’s voice and gave in. He clapped von Braun on the shoulder.

‘You are correct, as usual. From now on I will be on my best behaviour, so you can stop worrying.’ Bethwig shook his head as von Braun turned to open the door. He was so damned naive that he probably did not believe Heydrich would view a difference of opinion as an outright refusal to obey orders.

The reichsprotektor broke off a conversation as they entered and crossed the room to shake hands. Bethwig was again surprised at his limp grasp.

‘We have much to discuss, so please make yourselves comfortable.’ He motioned for drinks, and they sat down.

‘As you know’ — Heydrich waved a hovering officer away — ‘Wernher came to see me in Prague two weeks ago. As I told you then, my friend’ — he smiled at von Braun, but his eyes were on Bethwig — ‘I was not satisfied with your report. The entire timetable for the project must be speeded up.’

Heydrich stopped; he seemed to be considering, then, apparently having made up his mind, he turned in his chair and waved at a group of officers. Obediently they trooped from the room, leaving only the aide sitting beside the door, apparently engrossed in a technical magazine he could not possibly have understood. Bethwig noticed that his holster flap was unbuttoned.

‘Much better,’ Heydrich said. ‘Now we can speak freely. There is good reason for the urgency. The Americans are rushing troops to Europe. It is possible that a second front will be opened before the next year is out. Even though you are not military men, there is no need to tell you what that means. The Führer has bitten off more than he can chew in Russia. I was against the campaign at the time, preferring to wait until we had arrived at an agreement with the English. If the Russian attack had been held off until this year, I am certain that we could have weaned Churchill away from Stalin and would not then be wasting resources along the Atlantic coast and in North Africa. But that is neither here nor there. The Führer prevailed, as is correct.’