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  “Well,” he said finally, “at least we have had successes on the military fronts, have we not? And was I not correct in demanding that we attack at New York instead of Provincetown or even Washington, as our previous plans suggested? And the shipping strike ruse? Brilliant!”

  Schlieffen, chief of staff, smiled tentatively. He seemed to recall that it was his plan, and his ruse, but he too remained discreetly silent. “Yes, All Highest, we have. At this time we have landed one complete corps of three divisions. A second corps is approaching the harbor and will begin disembarking shortly. We have moved out of New York and into Connecticut, after taking all of New York City in a relatively bloodless manner. The unfortunate fires that destroyed Brooklyn have delayed us slightly, but we will make up the lost time.”

  “Yet our armies have stopped advancing.”

  It was an accusation, not a question, and Schlieffen responded carefully. “Yes, All Highest. Please recall that the initial force is now spread quite thin because of its myriad responsibilities. Sire, we have only about fifteen thousand men confronting the American General Smith’s large but inept force.”

  “A shame so few were available. With more we could have crushed them,” said the kaiser. He knew that a large percentage of the initial force was tied down in occupation and administrative duties and in guarding other portions of the perimeter. Further reinforcements, however, would largely rectify that problem.

  The kaiser nodded, apparently understanding. “Prisoners,” he said suddenly. “We have large numbers of American prisoners who can be used to unload the ships, can’t they?”

  Schlieffen shook his head. “It has been discussed, but they are a sullen and mutinous lot. We are afraid they would work at best very slowly and, worse, sabotage whenever they could. We would also have to detail larger numbers of our soldiers to guard them while they perform their tasks.”

  The kaiser persisted. “If they commit sabotage, or refuse to work, shoot them!”

  “Certainly, sire, but our people there are afraid that some heroic martyr might still do something catastrophic to our efforts if given an opportunity. Perhaps some demented fool might even blow up a munitions ship. That, sire, would be a disaster.”

  “And the navy?” Here the kaiser looked and spoke more deferentially to the imposing bulk of Tirpitz.

  “Sire, we are still attempting to locate the American fleet. It is scattered but is doubtless trying to collect itself in a force that will enable it to attempt a fleet action. We have small units searching for it, but so far with little success. Other major naval forces are busy protecting the harbor around New York and our reinforcement convoys as they cross over. We have also sent several cruiser squadrons south to cause havoc in the American ports by bombarding them. We are confident that that will tie down many army regiments which might otherwise be sent north to fight us. In the meantime, our main battle fleet is ready and able to sink theirs, whether we find its hiding hole or it shows up to challenge us.”

  “Do you think it will?” asked the kaiser hopefully. He had spent a fortune developing his new navy as an instrument of Imperial expansionary will. Now it was time to reap the dividends from that investment.

  “Without a doubt,” assured Tirpitz.

  Tirpitz too had read the work of the most prominent naval theoretician of the age, Alfred Thayer Mahan. Mahan’s beliefs were based on the primacy of the capital ships of the main battle fleets and the need for one navy to aggressively seek out and destroy an enemy’s main battle fleet. Tirpitz and the other senior officers in the German navy looked forward to the likelihood of the slightly smaller American fleet challenging the might of Germany.

  The kaiser slapped his good right hand on the table. “Now that is what I like. Good, aggressive attitude. It has been too long since anyone challenged the British on the oceans. When we have destroyed the American fleet, we will be battle hardened and wise, and the British must respect us.”

  The kaiser rose, signaling that the meeting was over. He shook hands and departed, as did the military chiefs. Bulow was left alone with Holstein, and he clearly did not like being with the Jesuit.

  “Von Bulow.” Holstein smiled. “Have you been reading the foreign press? Some of the comments are quite interesting, especially the excerpts from the American papers.”

  Bulow paled. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Holstein chortled. “Of course you do. I particularly call your attention to the article in the Hearst papers that refers to the All Highest as a degenerate cripple. It also implies that the All Highest hurt his left arm doing something horribly decadent with it, such as manipulating the Imperial manhood.”

  Bulow rolled his eyes. “Those articles are horrible, disgusting. Thank God the kaiser does not read such drivel, and I shall ensure that no one mentions it to him. There is no telling what irrational rage the emperor would fall prey to if he were not protected from such things. Frankly, von Holstein, I am surprised you even brought it up. It’s lewd and beneath you.”

  With that, the chancellor whirled and marched out, leaving Holstein alone. Holstein stood silently for a moment, mentally reviewing the afternoon’s events. Then he smiled and departed as well.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “First,” said Roosevelt,“on behalf of everyone here, I would like to commend you on the way you took charge of those poor lost New England sheep.”

  Patrick Mahan nodded his acceptance of the compliment. The others in the room effectively constituted an American war council. Along with Roosevelt was John Hay, Secretary of War Elihu Root, Secretary of the Navy John Long, Gen. Nelson Miles, and, for the first time, Adm. George Dewey. Dewey had disembarked at Norfolk and had just received word to go to the Saint Lawrence. The naval representative at future meetings would either be Navy Secretary Long or Patrick’s eminent but distant cousin, Capt. Alfred Thayer Mahan. Patrick noted to himself that it was singularly unfair that he, as a brigadier general, should outrank his cousin, one of the foremost military minds the world had yet known.

  Roosevelt continued. “The Massachusetts congressional delegation also praises your efforts, General Mahan, but insists that the late Colonel Blaney be made a hero. Politics, nothing but politics. We are issuing Blaney a posthumous Medal of Honor, which the brave fool’s congressman brother-in-law will accept. You will receive a formal commendation from the governor of Massachusetts, as well as our undying gratitude.”

  John Hay led a brief smattering of applause. “Don’t worry, Patrick, posthumous medals are the worst kind.”

  “Enough,” Roosevelt chided gently. It was obvious that the formidable John Hay was no longer just secretary of state. He was now the number one assistant and adviser to the young and inexperienced president. “I have been informed that the British arms will start being available to our soldiers in a few days. At first, it will be only a trickle, then a torrent. When our boys are properly supplied we will drive out the invaders! General Miles has been working on plans for attacks on the German defenses that will accomplish our goals. He will, when appropriate, depart here and lead those endeavors.”

  Patrick looked surprised. General Miles had certainly risen in the esteem of Roosevelt in the brief time Patrick had been gone. But then Miles was the senior officer in the army, and if he wasn’t to lead, then who would? There had to be an effort to drive out the Germans, and for the time being at least, it appeared that Nelson Miles would command the American army.

  Roosevelt looked squarely at Patrick, obviously aware that his mind had wandered. “We would like your assessment of what you have seen regarding the German invaders.”

  As succinctly as he could, Patrick described what he had found out from his scouts and a couple of deserters. The force currently on American soil likely consisted of one corps of three divisions of about thirteen thousand men each. Patrick reminded them that the German army consisted of twenty-two such corps, although many of the divisions were significantly smaller. “They are in the process of reorganizing
their total army into larger divisions. This is doubtless one of the newer corps with such large divisions.”

  Overall, he noted, the regular German army totaled about half a million men, with another half million in active reserve. The average German soldier was a conscript taken for a three-year period of intense training and duty, and then transferred to the reserves for another fifteen to twenty years during which he trained with his regiment for one full month each year. Thus even the German reserves were much better trained than any American force.

  The German officers were almost entirely professionals, and many careerists came from the Prussian homeland. They reflected the bleak and harsh environment that their medieval forebears had wrested from the original Slavic owners. The Prussian militarist was to Germany what the Spartan had been to ancient Greece-a dangerous and formidable foe with centuries of experience waging war against the best that Asia and Europe could field against him.

  “General Mahan,” asked the president, “how many more men will they send?”

  “Even though they have the potential to send a million men or more, I don’t believe that’s likely. There is one corps on our shores and another one about to disembark. I have been informed that two more corps are gathering in Germany and are being prepared for transport. That would bring their force to about a hundred and sixty-thousand men.” His source was Ian Gordon, who had given him the information less than an hour before the meeting. The British system of gathering intelligence was marvelous, Patrick thought. “Secretary Hay,” asked Patrick, “do you think the situation in Europe will allow them to send many more?”

  “No,” Hay answered. “The situation there is too unstable, and they are so unloved by the other European nations.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Patrick. “Further, I feel that the two corps still in Germany will consist of reserves. As I stated, however, even their reserves are so well trained we may not notice any decline in their military skills. However, being reservists called up from civilian life, they might not wish to be here. That could affect their enthusiasm and morale. Additionally, the Germans do not wish to conquer; rather, they wish to exact from us just what they have asked for in the way of overseas possessions.”

  “I agree with Patrick,” said Hay. “In Europe, wars are generally fought not to conquer a nation but to attain a goal. The German army will be here only long enough to achieve their goals. I cannot even imagine they would set up a puppet government to rule directly over a hostile population. Ultimately, the United States will rearm and be able to drive out the Germans. In simple math, please remember that the population of the United States is sixty-five million to Germany’s fifty-five million. In the long run, this could be decisive.”

  “Which brings me to another point,” Patrick added. “In their past wars with France, Germany has shown little mercy to irregulars or insurgents. Raiders or guerrillas captured by the Germans will be executed summarily. I also think the prisoners of war they’ve taken will be used as hostages to guarantee our relative good behavior.”

  Roosevelt’s face was stern. “That is a price we may have to pay. I cannot tell Americans not to strike back or defend their homes. No, I will not. Mr. Hay, please inform the kaiser through whatever diplomatic channels you may wish to use that we will hold his army responsible for any atrocities or massacres, and that we consider any American taking arms against Germany to be a member of our military.”

  As Hay wrote himself a note, he thought it was an exercise in futility-that Roosevelt had a great deal to learn about his adversary-but he kept the thought to himself. However, there was a further point to be made. “Politically, it could be a disaster for the kaiser if his reservists were to suffer heavy casualties.” His eyes twinkled. “General Miles, you must see to it.”

  Miles nodded. “I intend to.”

  “Strange people, the Germans,” mused Roosevelt. “And they’re all ours to contend with, although, thanks to Britain, we are not totally alone. You should also be aware that the British have detached ships from both their home and Mediterranean fleets under an Admiral John Fisher. That force will be defending the isolation of the Saint Lawrence and covering our navy’s sanctuary.” He smiled thinly at the brief murmurs of approval. “Gentlemen, this meeting’s adjourned. A week from today will be Wednesday, the Fourth of July. Our Independence Day will be a solemn one, I’m afraid. God only knows how we’ll celebrate it. Patrick, I thank you for your dissertation. I would, however, like you to return to the invasion area and keep in further touch.”

  “Yes, sir.” That meant he would not have any chance at a command, at least not for the time being. However, he would still be the president’s emissary and be involved as the army prepared for the attack against the invaders. Also, he might have a chance to stop off at a certain camp and see how Trina was doing.

  While the others gathered their belongings to depart, it suddenly dawned on Patrick that Admiral Dewey hadn’t said a word. Why? Was something occurring that the admiral hadn’t wished to comment on or be drawn into discussing?

  As Patrick retrieved his hat and walked toward the door, a Negro porter called to him. “General Mahan?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sir, a woman called on the White House phone and insisted you were living here and had to be reached. Fortunately, I overheard our part of the conversation and I remembered your name on the admission list for tonight.”

  “Who was she?”

  “Sir, she sounded Irish and very upset. She said that someone you knew, a Katrina Schuyler, had been burned in an accident and you should come as fast as you can.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  After Heinz Schmidt was unexpectedly commissioned as an officer, his world became a whirl: getting uniforms, finding out what a lieutenant was to do, whom to salute, whom not to salute, and just what the hell General Mahan wanted of him.

  This was followed by a wild ride down to Washington on a commandeered private train where he, a young man who’d never been farther than twenty miles from home, was present in the White House and saw the great leaders of America. These included the high-ranking generals who made even General Mahan stand up straighter than normal. Heinz even saw the president, who seemed to acknowledge him and smile but did not speak to him.

  This was followed by an even wilder train and horseback trip back up to New York, because a woman friend of the general’s was in some kind of trouble, injured or something. Burned in a fire was what he’d heard.

  Finally, the trip ended at a small house outside Waterbury, Connecticut, which he later found out was rented by the woman they’d ridden to see. Patrick pounded on the door, which was promptly opened by a young woman in a drab dress who looked puzzled for only a moment.

  “Well, thank God. What the bloody hell took you so long?”

  Heinz was shocked. Patrick pushed the woman aside and entered, with Heinz following. “Damnit, Molly, in your message you forgot to say which camp you were at and where Katrina’d been taken. Do you know how many camps there are around here?”

  The answer, Heinz knew from recent and frustrating experience looking for them, was a lot.

  Molly softened and managed a small smile, which, Heinz realized, made her rather attractive. She had a good figure, full but still trim, and she had a nice smile and the hint of dimples. She was also very young, perhaps even younger than he. He straightened his brand-new uniform tunic and smiled.

  Molly cheerfully acknowledged her oversight. “Well, perhaps I could have been a bit more specific, but you’re here now so it doesn’t matter.”

  “Right. Now where is Katrina and how is she?” Patrick demanded.

  Molly answered in an accented voice that Heinz realized was Irish. “She’s in her room and she’s resting. Do you want me to tell her you’re here?”

  “In a minute. First, what happened, and has her family been told?”

  Molly sat and gestured the others to do likewise. “She was burned in a fire that started in a storage tent.
She was in there with some others trying to figure out how many blankets or some such there were when the tent sort of exploded. There must have been some chemicals or something, and a lamp made them blow up. She was dragged out hurt. Her face and hands were all swollen and red, and her hair was burned off. She was unconscious and cut bad on her head and they had to shave off what hair remained and stitch her scalp.”

  “Jesus,” said Patrick.

  “Even so, she was luckier than the others. She turned out to be more scalded than burned. A couple of other people were killed in the fire.” Molly looked a little contrite. “I may have panicked, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “And her family?”

  “When she was unconscious I realized I didn’t know anything about her family. When she came to I found out that her father was in Texas and we don’t know where, and her brother’s at sea in the navy. Didn’t matter. Neither was going to be here for her.”

  Patrick nodded. Her father could likely be located, but certainly not her brother.

  “Now, General,” she glanced at Heinz, “who is this young giant?”

  Patrick quickly made the introductions. He watched incredulously as her face turned from a look of gamine charm to one of venom. “A German? You brought us a fuckin’ German?”

  He reached over and grabbed her hand. “No, Molly. Heinz is not from Germany. He’s from Ohio, which is in this country. He joined the army to fight them.”

  Her look of hatred passed, at least a little. Molly was uncertain. Heinz seized the opportunity. “Miss Duggan, I am not a German, I am an American. I was born here, in Ohio, which makes me a citizen of the United States. My parents and many other relatives came from Germany, but now they’re Americans too. They left because of the German government and its crazy kaisers and its damned army that likes to kill and crush innocent people.”

  Molly digested this. It had also been a while since a young man called her “miss.” “All right,” she said quite formally. “We’ll see. General, I’ll ask Miss Schuyler if she will see you now.”