Princess’s hand again.
‘Invite your young man for dinner. Let us see how these people behave.’
‘You are always right, dearest. You are so intelligent and wise.’
‘But you must not invite him yourself. Send someone lowly.’
Lunch was a disappointment. The Kaiser had anticipated a pleasant and nostalgic farewell enlivened by the appreciative major’s quiet irony. Instead, the major displayed neither amusement nor gratitude and allowed himself to appear visibly upset. Flushed with what the Kaiser had at first assumed merely to be heat and hurry, he claimed he had been detained by what he called the enemy. They were sending his soldiers back to the barracks which they now controlled, and had delayed sending him with them only because of the Kaiser’s invitation.
That, at least, was gratifying to the Kaiser as an indication of respect, but he thought the use of the word ‘enemy’ gratuitous, if not offensive. However, he did not riposte as he might have but remarked only that he had not yet had an opportunity to address the new Wehrmacht guard.
‘The officer is not Wehrmacht,’ said Major van Houten. ‘He is Schutzstaffel.’
The Kaiser’s shrug was intended to suggest how little such distinction mattered to him. ‘And merely a leutnant, I understand, though these SS people call themselves something different. Where, I wonder, is his commanding officer?’
‘In our barracks. He is in charge there.’
‘I daresay I shall have to receive him one day. There is no hurry.’ The Kaiser took his place at the table and began eating immediately. ‘I trust that, as a military man, he will prove to have better manners than the Nazis.’
‘Herr Hitler is said to be almost a perfect gentleman, and Herr Himmler is reportedly charming,’ said the Princess, smiling at both men.
‘My dear, one has to consider who it is that is making such judgements.’ The Kaiser looked across at van Houten. It was then that he realised the man was weeping. He was eating and made no sound, but tears stood in his eyes. The Kaiser felt this was uncalled for, a gross over-indulgence, until it occurred to him that the major might have suffered a private grief. Something to do with his family, perhaps. He assumed the major had a family; he had never asked.
‘Is everything all right, Major van Houten? Is all well with you?’
The major was still chewing, an action that made his face even sadder and funnier than usual. The Kaiser would tell Hermo about it later.
‘Thank you, your Highness,’ the major replied in his careful German. ‘All is well with me. It is an emotional time, that is all. I apologise.’ He inclined his head.
‘My dear fellow, I understand. It is an emotional time for everyone, this new war. Where will it end? Wars are more easily started than stopped and my fear is that the machinery of warfare will run away with Herr Hitler, as it ran away with me. But he has done well so far, I grant him that. Tactically, he has done the correct things and has evidently learned the lessons of the High Command’s failure last time.’
The major’s spaniel eyes stared at the Kaiser’s. ‘Do you believe he has done the correct thing in invading us, your Highness?’
‘Correct from his point of view, yes. Necessary. He has done the necessary thing. You see, major, this war is not with The Netherlands. It is important that you and your people understand that.’ The Kaiser dabbed his lips with his napkin. ‘No, this war is with France. It is the unfinished business that was prevented last time by England. Since then the French have behaved so badly in the territories they occupied after the armistice that a resumption of our war has become inevitable. They have been brutal to the German population, including children, and they wished to continue to starve them. They even tried to stop the English from lifting the blockade after the war. Did you know that more than three hundred and fifty thousand German people died as a result of the blockade – after the war, not during it? My own private secretary, von Islemann, lost four aunts because of it. Four aunts!’
The Kaiser stared across the table. There was something ridiculous in the notion of four aunts. How many aunts did a normal man need, for goodness’ sake? Were they fat before the blockade? Four fat aunts fading away. It was a laughable thought, the sort of thing the major might normally remark upon, but he appeared to have lost his humour. The Kaiser felt he ought to demonstrate his own seriousness. ‘People fear that because I have lived in Holland for over twenty years I do not know what the German people are thinking. But I do. I know very well what the German people think because people tell me and because I understand them here.’ He thumped his chest with his right hand. ‘It is not war itself they seek, but they hunger for justice and war is the only way. So for this new war, they have, since 1918, been ready to march at once, to strangle the French. Well, now they are doing that but they cannot finish the job properly until they have driven Juda out of England, as they are driving them from the continent. The Jews and Anglo-American commercialism and materialism make it impossible for European peoples to live in decent peace and spiritual harmony. This war will be a divine judgement on Juda-England, you will see. That is why the soldiers of the Wehrmacht are here in Holland, Major van Houten. It is not against you or your country, and when the business is complete they will go. I promise you that.’
The Princess nodded. ‘I do not believe the Nazis have anything against The Netherlands. Occupation is a regrettable necessity. It will pass, I am sure of that. It will become as water under the bridge.’
The major looked at her. ‘No doubt it will pass, Princess. I too am sure of that. But not before much blood has sweetened the water beneath our bridges.’
The major’s words hung in the air and rather soured luncheon, the Kaiser felt. The Dutchman was making more of the business than circumstances warranted. After all, it was not as if the Wehrmacht had done anything seriously unpleasant.
The Kaiser took his coffee standing, obliging Major van Houten to do the same. The Princess withdrew. They gazed out over the lawns, where the gardeners were tending the rhododendrons; the Kaiser’s three dachshunds were hunting in the bushes. He insisted the major sample a liqueur, feeling it might brighten the fellow, but declined any himself. He never touched liqueurs, nor whisky, though he liked to see others doing it. It was almost time for his afternoon nap.
He laid his good hand upon the major’s shoulder, gripping it. Even at eighty, his grip was enough to make men wince, but the major he gripped reassuringly. ‘You must let me know if there is anything I can do. You have family I can help, perhaps? I provide for more than fifty relatives of my own, so one family more would make little difference. And you yourself. You must let me know what happens. I fancy I may still have influence with the German authorities, if necessary.’
Major van Houten inclined his head. ‘Your Highness is most kind.’
The Kaiser patted him. ‘Cheer up, my good fellow.’
The major continued to stare at the rhododendrons. Tears stood in his eyes again. ‘Forgive me, your Highness. It is the shame of occupation and defeat.’
‘I know, I know – knew – those feelings only too well, major.’ He paused, then recollected himself. ‘But you must brace up, as my English family would say, and face it like a good’ – he almost said ‘German’ – ‘soldier.’ He let go of the major, finished his coffee and dabbed his lips once more with his napkin. ‘And now I must have my nap.’
