Out of the Smoke Read online

  “But now I slammed down onto the ice directly on my weak hip. I don’t remember screaming when I hit, but they tell me I did. All I remember was one burst of searing pain, and then I blacked out. The next thing I knew, I was lying on a bed in a small clinic in Oberammergau. The doctor assured me and my family that nothing was broken and said he wasn’t sure why I was in so much pain. I could hardly stand it. I was gritting my teeth so hard I thought I was going to crack them. Then Emilee told him about my old wound and that I still had some fragments of a bullet lodged near my spinal cord. That did it. The doctor immediately called the hospital in Munich. They were going to send an ambulance down for me, but they wanted over a hundred marks to do that, so the doctor shot me up with some morphine and Alemann laid me out in the back seat of his Maybach Zeppelin with my head cradled in Emilee’s lap. My mother and Richelle brought the rest of our families up separately in our car.

  “Unfortunately, this all happened on a weekend, so all they have done since arriving here in the hospital is try to keep me as comfortable as possible. Tomorrow morning, a team of orthopedic doctors will take x-rays to see how badly I have injured myself.

  “All of the family, including those from Graswang, came to visit today, so I’ve had lots of company. But with school tomorrow, and Alemann teaching classes, I shooed them all out, assuring them that I am old enough to be on my own for twelve hours without someone holding my hand. Emilee will be back for the surgery, and Richelle will watch Rikki and Little Niko for her, since they are not in school yet.

  “Miki and Paul feel the worst about it, because they were racing us, but I assured them that I take full credit for my stupidity and will pay up on the dinner. Miki, who was actually crying, something she just doesn’t do anymore, said that since we were ahead, we would have won, and so they will pay. Paul agreed. So when this is all over, I’ll at least get a dinner out of it.

  “Now that all is quiet and I am alone, I am dreading what tomorrow will bring. The army doctors who did the emergency surgery almost ten years ago now were not the most competent, I guess, and my hip has given me a lot of pain over the years. But I can tell that this pain is not the same as before. This is deeper and more intense. I did not say that to Emilee or the others. Emilee hopes (and prays, as always) that improved medical techniques will allow them to get what remains of the bullet out once and for all. I am not that optimistic. The on-call doctor wasn’t either. He thinks that there is a good chance that when I hit so hard, I may have cracked one of my sacroiliac joints or broken my tailbone. Or, it could have jammed the bullet fragments into the spinal cord a little further.

  “Well, it’s almost ten, and I can feel the exhaustion setting in. So I will close for now. I’ll know more tomorrow. I am guessing that I will be here for a few more days, so I will write more then.”

  “Herr Eckhardt?”

  Hans looked up in surprise. A nurse was standing at the foot of his bed. “Yes?”

  “You have a visitor.”

  “I what?” He glanced up at the wall clock. It showed nine minutes to ten o’clock. “Aren’t visiting hours over?”

  The nurse’s lips pressed into a prim line. “I think you’ll want to see this one.” She turned on her heel and went out of the room. A moment later, the door opened again and a man stepped in. Hans jerked up, a move he instantly regretted. “Rudolf?”

  Rudolf Hess, Hans’s former boss in the Department of Propa­ganda, smiled as he came over. He had a potted plant in one hand and his fedora hat in the other. He set the plant down on the small table beside Hans’s bed and came to stand over him. “Good evening, Hans.”

  “Rudolf. What are you doing here?”

  He gave Hans a droll smile. “That seems a little obvious, I would think. Emilee called and told me about your accident.”

  “But I thought you were in Berlin.”

  “I returned home Saturday morning to do some things with my family. What are the doctors saying?”

  Hans gave him a quick summary, ending with, “We won’t know for sure until tomorrow.”

  “I’m flying back to Berlin first thing in the morning,” Hess said. “But let me know what they say.”

  “I will. Danke. So what’s happening? Is there any order coming out of the chaos up there?”

  Hess turned to where there were two wooden chairs by the window. He hung his hat on the back of one and then removed his coat and draped it across the seat. He picked up the other chair and moved it over beside Hans. When he set it down, he was smiling again. “That’s one of the reasons I came to see you. Actually, a lot has been happening.”

  Hans winced as he pulled himself up into more of a sitting position. “Tell me.”

  “Well, since General Schleicher convinced Hindenburg to dump Papen as chancellor and give the office to him instead, things have gone rapidly downhill. Schleicher may have been a brilliant general in the war, but as chancellor, it’s been one political blunder after another. Which, if you ask me, is nothing more than his chickens coming home to roost. He’s a viper, making big promises and then stabbing people in the back.”

  “He certainly played Papen for the fool,” Hans said.

  “Schleicher is definitely floundering, and even he seems to realize that his days are numbered. He alienates people on the left and the right every day, including some of the wealthiest families in the country. That’s a stupid thing to do. He started cozying up to the unions, promising to roll back their wage cuts and tax increases. That’s sent the big industrialists into a fury. He instituted some extensive land reform, taking about 800,000 acres from the wealthiest landowners and distributing it to 25,000 peasant families. That’s made him the darling of the poorer classes, but everyone else is calling him a Communist. And his biggest blunder? Some of that land belongs to President Hindenburg.”

  “Seriously? He went ahead with that before checking who owned it?”

  “Like I said, he’s a blundering idiot. Which works to our good.”

  “Is he any closer to brokering a deal with the other parties to form a new government?”

  “No, he’s further away than ever. He counted on Strasser’s promise to take the Nazi Party away from the Führer and bring them with him into a new government. And talk about being stupid. Strasser has resigned and now faces Hitler’s fury. Anyway, it looks like Hindenburg is finally starting to see that his only alternative is to make Hitler the new chancellor.”

  “Wunderbar!” Hans exclaimed. “When?”

  “Not sure. Lots of details to be worked out. That’s why I’m going back tomorrow.” Hess got up. “But, Hans, you are not to concern yourself about any of this.”

  “Thank you. I’m not sure how soon I’ll be up and around. That will depend on whether they have to operate or not.”

  “I talked to the Führer earlier this evening. He said to give you his best wishes and to make it clear that you are excused from work until you are completely recovered.”

  “Danke. Emilee will be greatly relieved to hear that.”

  Hess stepped closer and leaned down, lowering his voice at the same time. “You remember Oskar von Hindenburg?”

  “Of course. The president’s son.”

  “And he is also his official adjutant.”

  “That too. What about him?”

  “One week ago today, Oskar von Hindenburg and State Minister Otto Meissner quietly left the presidential palace and took a taxi to the home of Joachim von Ribbentrop.”

  “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

  Hess laughed. “Not really. He’s a faithful member of the party there in Berlin, but not widely known. Though I predict he soon will be. But anyway, waiting at Ribbentrop’s home were four men. Wilhelm Frick—”

  “Wait. I thought Frick sided with Strasser in his bid to replace the Führer.”

  “He did, but cautiously. When Strasser’s
attempted coup d’état flamed out, Frick came crawling back.”

  “And Hitler took him back?”

  “Only because he has a substantial number of party members loyal to him. But that’s neither here nor there. Along with Frick, Hermann Goering and the Führer were there. And . . .” He let the word hang for a moment. “Former chancellor, Franz von Papen.”

  “Well, well,” Hans said. “I heard that Oskar shares the same disdain and contempt for Adolf Hitler that his father has.”

  “Perhaps,” Hess acknowledged with an enigmatic smile. “But here is what happened there that night. Things were pretty cool at first, especially with Oskar and the Führer. Then suddenly the Führer turned to Oskar and said, ‘You and I need to talk, alone.’ And to everyone’s amazement, including Papen’s, Oskar agreed. They got up and went into another room. When they came back about an hour later, neither would say what they had discussed. But as the conversation resumed, suddenly Oskar turned to Papen and said, ‘I am convinced that the Nazis must be taken into the government if we are to succeed at all. It cannot be helped.’”

  Hans was stunned. “Wow! What did Hitler offer him?”

  Hess shrugged. “Who knows? But the next day, Oskar and Papen went in to the president and presumably put forth the idea of a compromise with Hitler. Though they did not know it at the time, their timing was highly fortuitous, for that very morning, Chancellor von Schleicher had admitted that he was unable to form a new government. So he proposed that Hindenburg use the presidential decree again to dissolve the Reichstag and transform the government into a temporary military dictatorship, with Schleicher at the head, of course.”

  “And the president refused?” Hans cried.

  “Yes. Flatly. It was not long after Schleicher left that Oskar and Papen arrived with their compromise proposal.”

  Hans was straining forward now, oblivious to the pain in his rump. “And Hindenburg bought it?”

  Hess sat back, a smile spreading across his face. “He did. This has not been announced yet, so tell no one until it is. But the Führer authorized me to let you know that at noon tomorrow, President Hindenburg will appoint a new chancellor and charge him with forming a new government immediately.” He laughed aloud as he reached down had gripped Hans’s shoulder. “And that chancellor’s name will be Adolf Hitler.”

  Chapter Notes

  Shirer details how Hitler managed to negotiate his way through the morass of political intrigue, bouncing back from certain defeat more than once. Though only summarized here, the events depicted in this chapter describe what happened in the last weeks of 1932 and the first of 1933 (see Rise and Fall, 175–84). Very quickly, Hindenburg, Papen, and the others would learn that any assumptions they had that they could keep a tight rein on Adolf Hitler were pure fantasy. No official account ever came out of what transpired in Ribbentrop’s home between Hitler and Oskar von Hindenburg. But an educated guess can be derived from the fact that a few months after Hitler came to power, 5,000 acres of tax-free land were transferred to the Hindenburg estate in Neudeck. Then, in August 1934, Oskar was promoted from the rank of colonel to major general in the Reichswehr, or national army (Ibid., 181).

  February 18, 1933, 7:10 p.m.—Eckhardt Home

  When the doorbell buzzed, Hans groaned. He was stretched out on the sofa, his back fortified with pillows, reading the newspapers that had collected over the past few days.

  Emilee turned in surprise. “Are you expecting someone?”

  “No! And I don’t want to see anyone. Tell them I took a pain pill and went to bed.”

  She turned and pointedly looked at the clock. “At 7:10? Seriously?”

  The buzzer rang again. Emilee got to her feet. “I’ll tell them that you’re not feeling well, but I’m not going to lie for you, Hans.”

  He shot her a dirty look as she started for the door, but she ignored it.

  He set the newspaper aside and listened carefully. Emilee’s voice came clearly to him. “Oh, Rudolf. This is a pleasant surprise.”

  Hans stiffened. He only knew one Rudolf, and that was his former boss. Cursing, he started to sit up but instantly regretted that movement as pain shot through his lower back.

  “Of course,” Emilee was saying. “He would love to see you. He’s right here in the living room.”

  A moment later, Rudolf appeared, holding his hat in one hand, unbuttoning his overcoat with the other. His shoulders were glistening with raindrops.

  “Guten Abend, Hans,” Hess said, coming over and extending his hand.

  Hans started to rise up on one elbow but fell back again as the pain stabbed at him.

  “No, no,” Hess blurted. “Don’t get up.”

  Hess turned to Emilee. “How are you and the children holding up?”

  “We are fine, Rudolf. Thank you for asking. And how is Ilse? I understand you all are moving up to Berlin?”

  “Ja, ja. We have found a nice place in Berlin and she is quite excited.”

  “Good.” Emilee did a little curtsy. “If you will excuse me, it is bedtime for our youngest two. How good of you to come.”

  “Of course.” As she left, Hess sat down but did not take off his overcoat. “So, tell me, Hans. What did the doctors find?”

  “Well, the good news is, the x-rays showed that the bullet fragments don’t seem to have been affected by the fall. The bad news is that I severely cracked my tailbone. That is the source of most of the pain.”

  “And what is the treatment? I suppose they cannot put it in a cast.” A flicker of a smile came and went, as if he were trying to picture that in his mind.

  “No. I put ice on it three or four times a day, and I have a little cushion that I use whenever I am sitting or lying down. My movements are not severely restricted, but I do have to be careful. They are saying that it will take up to twelve weeks to heal.”

  “And it’s been a month?”

  “Not quite. Three weeks. However, the other injury is the more serious. The blunt-force trauma to my backside severely damaged one of my sacroiliac joints. At first they said the only thing to be done for it was lots of rest and restriction of movement. But since it’s been three weeks and the pain hasn’t diminished that much, they are more and more worried that it will prove to be chronic pain.”

  “And what do they do for that?”

  “They don’t do anything until it’s been years without the pain going away. Then they go in surgically and put in metal implants to stabilize the joint.”

  “Ugh! That is not good news.”

  “No, it’s not, but the lead doctor thinks it will eventually heal. Just not very soon because of how hard I hit the ground.” Hans forced a smile. “But enough of that. I’ve just been catching up on the news. I see that Papen is still trying to rein in the Führer and hold him back from doing much of anything as chancellor.”

  Hess shook his head in disgust. “The fool is fighting us every step of the way, in any and every way he can. And Hindenburg backs him up in this. We are close on a coalition government, but the various parties are absolutely intransigent on some issues we consider to be nonnegotiable. But they won’t budge an inch.”

  “That’s what it sounds like in the papers. Politics as usual. So what now?”

  “Just the election. It’s two weeks away now.”

  “And I’m not able to do anything, Rudolf. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. No one thinks you’re trying to get out of work, Hans. We were all shocked when we heard about your accident. But anyway, the Führer said to tell you that things are well in hand and you are not to worry yourself about the election. Goebbels and the Ministry of Propaganda will handle it.”

  “And if we lose again?” Hans asked bitterly. “We can’t afford to lose another thirty-four seats.”

  To Hans’s surprise, Rudolf smiled. “I can see that the drugs have slowed your mind dow
n, Hans. Think about it for a minute. What’s changed since the November elections?”

  Hans searched his brain. “It seems to me like not much.”

  “One thing has, Hans. Think!”

  After a moment he shook his head again. “I guess the pain pills are making me fuzzy.”

  “Hitler is chancellor now!” Rudolf cried. “That’s what is different. He’s not just the head of the largest party. He is Reichschancellor. The second highest office in the land. That means that he has the full power of government behind him now.”

  “He can wage a political fund using federal resources?”

  “Yes! Federal funds. Federal employees. Federal radio stations. As chancellor he can get any newspaper in the land to quote him. In fact, yesterday he said, ‘Now it will be easy for us to win. It will be easy to carry on the fight, for we can call on all the resources of the State now.’”

  Hans was nodding slowly. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Then his brow furrowed. “But the electorate are even more jaded than in November, Rudolf. What if all this—”

  Hess laid a hand on Hans’s shoulder and then leaned in, peering into his eyes. “Hans, listen to me. We are not going to lose this time. We are going to come out stronger than ever before.”

  “Rudolf, I know I’m the perpetual pessimist, but just wanting to win doesn’t make it happen.”

  Hess’s fingers dug softly into Hans’s shoulder. “Hans! You’re not hearing me.” He pronounced each word slowly and distinctly. “WE—ARE—NOT—GOING—TO—LOSE!”

  He smiled, patted Hans’s shoulder, and got to his feet. “I’m sorry I can’t stay any longer. Ilse and I have to catch a train at nine tomorrow. And we still have our final packing to do.”

  “Thank you for coming, Rudolf. With all you have to do, that was very kind of you.”