Tidal Effects (Gray Tide In The East Book 2) Page 18

  “Then, let us hope that your persuasive powers are at a maximum when you meet the President,” Churchill said, “as I suspect that you will be undertaking a formidable assignment. You may be assured that, at least as far as His Majesty’s Government is concerned, you have accomplished the Emperor’s purpose: we shall certainly be in attendance at the treaty conference in October. Now let us turn to other matters. As you have so recently met with the Emperor, I should like to hear how you believe he will deal with the Hungarian crisis…”

  The talk continued through dinner, and until well after midnight.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Budapest, September 3, 1923

  Mihaly Karolyi, Provisional President of the freshly minted Magyar Republic (President! He could still scarcely believe it) gaveled the cabinet meeting to order. The first topic was a proposal from Germany, which was presented by the Foreign Minister, Count Esterhazy.

  After reading the Note aloud to the assembled Cabinet, he summarized it, presumably for those members of the government who were unfamiliar with the language of diplomacy: “…in short, Germany will agree to extend diplomatic recognition to this Government, in return for our agreement to recognize German rights in certain disputed regions of Poland, Ruthenia and Ukraine…”

  “The territory the Kaiser snatched from the Empire, you mean,” interrupted Minister of War, Horthy. “He wants us to approve his thefts, with diplomatic recognition as the bribe for our acquiescence, is that about right?” the blunt-spoken former naval officer inquired acidly.

  Count Esterhazy did not care for Horthy, and he did not much care who knew it. He looked down his long nose at his colleague, his expression suggesting that he had detected an offensive odor. “I would consider that an exceedingly crude interpretation of the Note, even by your standards,” he began. “In diplomatic usage…”

  Karolyi rose to his feet, and hurriedly interrupted, “Thank you, Your Excellency.” The two men had tangled before, and he thought it prudent to intervene before another violent argument disrupted the business of the government again. It was clear that the two men would not be able to serve together in the same government, and he was preparing to allow Count Esterhazy to pursue other career opportunities. “I believe we all have an adequate understanding of the nature of the German offer. I should like to hear the other Ministers thoughts on it.”

  The debate that followed was desultory. The Cabinet members, with the exception of Horthy, had been chosen for their political connections rather than their ability, as Karolyi believed that the first requirement for the new republic’s survival was to make the political base of the government as broad as possible. The resulting cabinet however, suffered from a dearth of talent. On the roster of nonentities that constituted the cabinet of the Magyar Republic, only the former naval officer, Horthy, had displayed any sign of original thought, energy or ability to govern. The majority of the Ministers were clearly still confused and frightened by the sudden change in Hungary’s status, and were unable or unwilling to adjust their thinking to the present. As soon as the country was on a firm footing, Karolyi was determined to replace them all (with the exception of the Minister of War) with men of real ability.

  Other than Horthy, none of the cabinet members expressed a firm opinion on the question before them, asked an intelligent question, or made any worthwhile comment. They were waiting hear the President’s stance so that they could go on record as agreeing with the boss, who also happened to be the most popular figure in Hungarian politics since the beloved leader of the 1848 revolution, Lajos Kossuth.

  Horthy, by contrast, was not afraid to express his view, which was that the Kaiser’s offer should be rejected. “It is not merely a craven act on our part, but it will prove to be the first step in poisoning our relations with Austria forever, and so leave us dependent on Germany. We need to keep a strong economic connection with the Empire. Please remember that compared with Austria, we are a poor and backward nation. It will be far easier for Vienna to look elsewhere for raw materials and markets for their manufactures than for us to do so. Then again, what shall we do when the Kaiser decides to claim a few choice portions of our country? Who will sympathize with Hungary when, I say when not if, that happens? The Emperor Charles has already recognized our status as an independent state; what do we need with German approval? I say we tell Kaiser Wilhelm that we don’t give a pin whether he recognizes us or not. We should show strength; the Germans have no respect for weakness.”

  Karolyi thought that there was a great deal to be said for the Minister of War’s arguments, but in the end he felt that the immediate need to get the new nation established outweighed the risks outlined by Horthy, which, although they were very real, were prospective only, and the demands of the present situation took precedence. He therefore told the Cabinet his view, and asked for a vote. There was only a single negative vote, and Karolyi instructed Count Esterhazy to prepare the response to Germany.

  The meeting continued for another hour before Karolyi called it a day. The Ministers filed out, leaving the room to the President and Horthy, whom the former had asked to remain behind.

  “I wanted to know if you were able to take care of that little matter I asked you to handle for me,” Karolyi said.

  “You mean that Wolf fellow?” Horthy asked. “All done. I told the German government that he had been a great help to us and should be rewarded, but that we wanted him ordered home, and they agreed. He is…” he looked up at a wall clock, “…already on a train to Berlin.”

  “Good,” Karolyi said. He grimaced. “I did not like for the man; his racial views made me very uncomfortable.”

  “He did seem a bit…intense,” Horthy agreed. “Incidentally, I can tell you a little about his background, if you’re interested.”

  “Oh?”

  “He was born in a little town in Upper Austria, moved to Germany and volunteered for service with the Bavarians in the war,” Horthy said. “He was a war hero, wounded in combat, and decorated, twice, I think.”

  “Interesting,” Karolyi said. “Well, thank you, Miklos. I’m just glad that I won’t have to see him again.”

  Horthy rose and began to leave the room. As he was opening the door, Karolyi asked casually, “Did you ever find out what his real name was? I assume it was not Wolf.”

  “Yes,” Horthy said, pausing with his hand on the doorknob, “it was something like… Hiller… no, Hitler,” he corrected himself. “Adolf Hitler.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Washington, D.C.,

  September 12, 1923

  The meeting concluded, Ray Swing stood and shook hands with President Lowden. “Thank for taking the time to meet me, Mr. President,” he said. He then shook hands with and thanked Secretary of State Wood and the President’s personal secretary Joseph McCormick, and left the Oval Office. After the door closed behind him, the three men resumed their seats around the President’s desk.

  “Well, General,” the President asked Wood, “what is your evaluation of the Austrian treaty proposal?”

  “I think I would like to examine the language of the draft treaty before making any definite commitments…” he began cautiously.

  “I am not asking for you for anything in writing, nor a formal analysis of any kind,” Lowden cut in. “I just want your impressions based on one reading of the treaty and the Emperor’s letter. Should the United States send a representative to this conference, and would it be in our national interest to be a party to such a treaty?”

  “If you asked me that question six months ago, I would have said ‘no’ and ‘no’,” the Secretary of State answered. “It is absolutely contrary to the tradition of American foreign policy to make this type of treaty arrangement with any European state, and risk being dragged into one of their wars. But now…” He paused.

  “Yes?” Lowden prompted. “Now, what? You have a different opinion, perhaps?”

  “Yes, I think I do,” Wood replied. He hesitated, took a deep breath,
and said, “Since our little tango with the Germans this spring, I have become more and more in agreement with Swing and the internationalists. Germany is a menace, and I do not believe that the ocean constitutes the safeguard of our security that it once did. Nor do I think that we are so strong that we can afford to ignore what happens in the rest of the world. I not only believe that we should attend the Vienna conference, but, assuming the final treaty did not call upon us to make unacceptable commitments, I would recommend we sign it, possibly as an Associated Power or some such, with specifically delineated and limited military obligations, perhaps.”

  “I don’t doubt that your old boss, were he here, would have agreed with you,” Lowden said, “but then the prospect of war didn’t scare T.R., did it?”

  “No sir,” Wood answered. “But then not very much of anything did scare him. I believe you could have held a loaded gun to his face and it would not have bothered him. In any event, you have my view.”

  “For which I am grateful, as always,” Lowden said.

  “If you do not have anything else for me, Mr. President, please excuse me. I should return to my office,” Wood said, as he stood up.

  “Yes, of course,” the President said. “We will speak about this further tomorrow.”

  After the Secretary of State departed, Lowden turned to McCormick. “Well, Joseph, I could not help but notice that you did not have much to say. I’ll wager you were listening pretty carefully, though.”

  “You’d win that bet,” McCormick said.

  “So, would you care to share your thoughts on the Austrian treaty with me?” Lowden asked.

  “If you want my evaluation of the foreign policy aspects,” he answered, “I’ll pass. What do I know about foreign policy? But if you want my take on the political implications…?”

  “Yes, Joseph, I would,” Lowden said patiently. “Must I remind you that you are my chief political advisor?”

  “Boss, before the Martinique crisis, I would have said that even hinting that you were considering a treaty like this one would be political suicide,” McCormick said. “But things have changed. I think now you might have the votes in the Senate for approval of it, in some form, at least. The war scare made an impression on the public and the Senators know it. People are really aware of the threat of Germany now, and they may just be ready for something like this. The naval treaty with the British will be a good test of the support you can expect for the Austrian proposal. I expect we'll get at least 85 votes in the Senate. The only ones you won’t get are the real hard-shell Midwestern isolationists.”

  “Meaning Bob Lafollette and company, I presume,” Lowden said.

  “His influence is at a low ebb right now,” McCormick said. “For the time being at least, the isolationists are isolated. If you were to explain the purpose of the treaty to the country, say on a series of radio addresses, I think you’d find the country is ready to listen, and to follow you.”

  “Are they ready to follow me if I tell them I want to build up a big army and expand the Navy in peacetime? And if the treaty draws us into a war in Europe, will they still follow me?” Lowden asked.

  McCormick nodded. “I think they just might, boss. I really do.”

  “So it is not a matter whether we can do it, but merely of whether we should,” Lowden said. “We are at a fork in the road of history, Joseph, and the wrong decision may lead this nation down into the abyss. It seems that the power to choose has, for some reason, been given into my hands.”

  “I’ve said it before, boss, and I’ll say it again,” McCormick said. “I wouldn’t want to trade places with you. But these are the kinds of decisions that come with the job. If it helps any, you know that whatever you decide, I’m behind you all the way.”

  The President rose, and clapped his hand on his secretary’s shoulder. “It is a great comfort to me, Joseph. Thank you.”

  McCormick clapped his hat on his head, said, “Good night, boss,” and left. After the door closed behind him, Lowden told his secretary to hold all his calls. He leaned back in his chair, put his feet up on his desk, and sat for a long time in silence, gazing out his office window at the capital bathing in the moonlight.

  * * * * *

  A few blocks away, Ray Swing was at that moment also gazing at the city of Washington under the full moon through the window of his hotel room. Unlike the President, however, he was not alone.

  “What are you thinking about, Ray?” a warm contralto voice asked.

  He rolled over in the bed to face his companion. “Oh, nothing in particular, Christina,” he answered. “I’m just wondering whether the whole trip was just a waste of time, or if there really will be a Grand Alliance.”

  “So?” The Austrian agent moved closer, pressing her body against him. Her lips were slightly parted, and he felt the heat of her breath on his cheek. “What do you think will happen?”

  “Well, to tell you the truth, it’s a little hard to concentrate at this exact second,” he answered. He slid his arms around her and they kissed, and then proceeded on to other things.

  Later, they lay side-by-side on top of the sheets, their bodies gleaming with sweat. “I don’t suppose you can arrange to stay on for a few more days in the States,” Swing said.

  She shook her head. “I wish I could, Ray, but my orders are to return to Vienna immediately. They need every trained agent right away.”

  “That’s understandable,” he said. “The break-up of the Empire is bound to be a huge mess, even when everyone involved has the best intentions.” The newspapers had been filled with stories of protest marches, riots, mass arrests and shootings in the Romanian, Czech, Slovak and Polish areas of the Magyar Republic, and less serious disorders in the Austrian Empire. In addition, Russia, Romania, and Bulgaria were making threatening noises, and the Germans seemed ready to take advantage of any civil unrest by occupying more of their neighbor’s property. All of Central and Eastern Europe was in chaos, and it was far from clear whether the shrunken Austrian Empire or its newly independent Hungarian offspring would survive what was coming.

  “This won’t be our last night together, Ray.” Christina said reassuringly. “I’ll see you the next time you come to Europe on assignment.”

  “That’s right, of course you will,” Swing agreed. “Now that I think about it, the Inquirer will probably send me over to Vienna to cover the treaty conference next month. That’s only a few weeks from now.”

  She smiled, leaned over, and kissed him again. “It’s a date.”

  Washington in moonlight

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vienna, October 11, 1923

  In fact, it proved impossible for Swing to find Christina. All his inquiries at the Ministry of the Interior led nowhere. The officials he spoke to refused to pass on any message from him to her. They would not acknowledge that such a person as Christina Dietrichstein was employed by the Austrian government, or that she even existed. His attempts to use his personal connections with the Emperor and Prince Parma-Bourbon were no more successful. He was not even able to schedule a meeting with either man until, after his fifth try, Sixtus agreed to see him privately for a few minutes.

  “I must apologize for our apparent lack of gratitude for what you did for us, Ray,” the Prince said. They were seated in Sixtus’ study adjoining his private office in the Hofburg Palace, the winter seat of the Hapsburg dynasty. “You must believe me when I tell you that we recognize the great debt you are owed. Emperor Karl would like to confer the Order of Leopold on you for your work in bringing about the Grand Alliance conference, as a partial payment, but we are rather busy right now.”

  “I know that, and I didn’t want to bother you at such a critical time, but I must ask a personal favor,” Swing said. He recounted his search for Christina, and its singular lack of success. “Since you are the Minister of the Interior, not to mention the Prime Minister, I figured you could help me.”

  When he finished, Sixtus looked at him gravely. “I would very mu
ch like to help you, my friend, but you must understand that Agent Dietrichstien is on an official mission for the Ministry at this time. She is for all practical purposes a soldier, one who is on active duty. I could not interfere with the performance of her duty for personal reasons, not even for you.”

  Swing’s shoulders slumped. “I understand. Of course you are right. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

  “It is never a waste of time to see old friends again,” the Prince said. “The Emperor and I will have you in for dinner and a long talk very soon, I promise. And do not despair of seeing your friend again. She may turn up when you least expect her.”

  Thereafter, Swing put Christina out of his thoughts and concentrated on his assignment interviewing diplomatic representatives of the participating nations, talking to experts and covering developments in the treaty negotiations. On the first day he had been pleased to run into his old friend Joe Stilwell, who had been selected as the military attaché to the American delegation. Stilwell had been promoted since the last time he and Swing had met, and was now sporting the silver leaves of a Lieutenant Colonel on his shoulders. The two men spent the first evening after the close of the conference catching up on their activities over the past two years, the last time they had met.

  “I had just managed to wangle a transfer to a line command when I was called back to Washington and informed that my services would be required here,” Stilwell explained. “It seems that I am now the official expert on the weapons, tactics and general capabilities of the German Army, and the conference just wouldn’t be the same without me,” he said.