Faber leaned back and put his jackbooted feet up on the desk. He was a quiet individual, a tall, athletic, and perpetually youthful-looking man with a dry wit. “They can use whatever plan they want. No matter how you look at it, we’re going to steamroll through Belgium and the Netherlands.” He laughed and gestured with a grease pencil. “We have two perfectly good plans. Tell the Colonel to inform the Führer that they can choose whichever one they want and let us go home to our families. At this point, we all know how the invasion will turn out. I think the Führer’s aides are all just a bunch of bureaucrats, playing some kind of political game to see who curries the most favour with him. Whatever plan he chooses, we’re going to pulverize the Dutch and the Belgians. The real test is whether or not we can break through the French and then separately defeat the English and French armies. Because in the end, if either the Dutch or the Belgians give us any trouble, we’re just going to bomb them into submission. There’s nothing terribly sophisticated in the preliminary phase of the operation.”
Major Faber began spinning a pencil in the crook of his thumb and forefinger. Abruptly he stopped and looked up with a mischievous smile. “Don’t you find all of this kind of boring? I’ll tell you what: let’s flip things around. Tomorrow, you do the manoeuvre briefing for the Colonel, and I’ll brief the logistics plan with all the options spelled out. I can recite your parts with my eyes closed. You describe the actions of the units in contact with the enemy; I’ll go through all the supply and transport details. I don’t need notes. You’re always telling me the fighting bits are the easy part. We’ve gone over this so many times I could stand in for you without notes. It’s simple. I’ll review in broad detail all the major supply options, give them an assessment of everything: the overall daily tonnage summaries, rail, motor transport, and forage requirements, fuel, rations, ammunition, casualties, go through the unique railroad coordination measures, road requirements, harbour areas, dumping programs, rear area signals, use of civilian telephone exchanges, water points, airfields and airheads, likely points of resistance in the rear, and rear area security plans.”
He looked pleased with himself. “It’s easy. See if the old goat would even notice we were briefing each other’s parts. We both know the detail well enough to do it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Erhlichmann. “The Colonel will catch us out. Besides, he’s so keyed up now he’s going to think we’re making fun of him. Even on a good day, the man has no sense of humour.”
“Okay, better still, let’s do the whole briefing as we always do and then ask him how he thinks we should react in the event of a possible French or British counter-attack north in support of the Dutch. Everybody just presupposes that the French and British will stay put and give us the initiative. He’s so wooden, asking him to think on his feet will throw him off his stride for days.”
“You’re probably right, but he’s sly enough to know how to handle that kind of question without having to think it through.”
Major Faber crumpled a sheet of paper and threw it across the room into the wastebasket. He had a self-satisfied grin. “I know his answer already.” He changed his voice into a high-pitched rasp. “For fear of offending us, neither the French nor the British have even conducted a map exercise of a major offensive movement north into the Low Countries; and neither of them have built in sufficient logistic capacity to conduct large-scale offensive action against us even if they wanted to. They’re tied to a rigid linear defence providing a shield right around the French perimeter, while we’re thinking in terms of a series of sharp spear thrusts into their soft areas.” Dropping back to his normal voice, Faber added, “He’ll tell us it’s going to be like taking an ice pick to a balloon. And you know what? He’ll be right.”
* * *
ANNIKA’S IMPATIENCE with Professor Snijders was beginning to show. “There are a lot of things Pauli Herschel could do, perhaps not in our department, but I know he could teach a course in the law department. He’s well-qualified.”
“Annika, you don’t understand,” said Dr. Snijders. He leaned back and began removing his glasses so that he could polish them on his tie, a gesture the portly gentleman always used when he wanted to buy time. “It’s not that your friend Pauli Herschel isn’t qualified, but there have to be circumstances other than the fact he’s a refugee from Germany before we go ahead and start urging our colleagues here in the university to hire him. There are procedures we have to observe.”
Annika’s inability to conceal her displeasure was never a trait that endeared her to her superiors. Today her exasperation showed in every movement. Snijders had known her since he first hired her five years before, and he wasn’t going to allow her an opening. “Mr. Herschel isn’t the only well-qualified refugee we have, by the way, and you haven’t provided me one shred of evidence that his qualifications are as you and he say they are.”
Snijders stood up quickly and began arranging papers on his desk. “Annika, I don’t doubt that Mr. Herschel is legitimate, but we just can’t jump up and hire someone because we think they’ve had a bad time of it.”
“No, of course, you’re right. But we aren’t talking about a theoretical situation here.” Annika’s voice became louder. “In the last war, the Netherlands took in over a million Belgian refugees. What’s happened to us? We see what’s going on next door and we not only turn our heads, but we make pious pronouncements about our self-interest and the need to maintain balance with our relations. We know we have an entire religious group being persecuted in Germany. These people are suffering. We can’t become officious when they start arriving as refugees. We should assist those who’ve shown up on our doorstep in need of help. You believe in that kind of charity don’t you, Professor Snijders?” Annika’s argument about charity was spoken in a much more conciliatory tone. “Please, please.”
Snijders continued to pretend he was busy with his papers. He looked up momentarily and then lowered his eyes, holding up his right hand in a defensive gesture. “Let’s not be personal about this, Annika. I have every sympathy for your friends from Germany. We can agree to help them, but we can’t go breaking our own rules and putting their interests above the legitimate interests of Dutch citizens. Helping these people doesn’t mean we give them preferential treatment. Besides, the government has set up a camp for such people at Westerbork. That’s where such people should be held. There’s an established procedure in place. The regulations were put in place to keep out communists and dangerous agitators; and I certainly don’t disagree with that. Why are you trying to go around the regulations? That kind of attitude’s not going to help your career here at the university.” Professor Snijders threw the papers he had been shuffling down onto his desk and snatched his reading glasses from his face. “I have a lot to do this morning, so if there is anything else that you want to discuss, do so now.”
Annika lowered her voice. “Where else do you suppose we could find some kind of suitable employment for Pauli?”
“I don’t know. And your friend won’t be the only one. If you make room for him today, there will be twenty more clamouring at us tomorrow. We don’t want German refugees in the Netherlands. We can’t accommodate them, and to attempt to do so will ruin trade relations with our largest partner as well as strain diplomatic relations between our two countries. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s not a good idea to antagonize Mr. Hitler. I’m sorry, Annika, but that’s how it is.”
Outside, in front of the conservatory building, Annika felt stunned. Her cheeks burned as she unlocked her bicycle from the crowded rack. It was as if she had somehow humiliated herself. Now she felt awkward and unsure. This morning when she came here, she thought she would be able to accomplish something positive, that she would make a difference. She didn’t expect to be rebuffed here at the university.
Thinking about
