The last year had been marked by many ups and downs. His promotion to Oberst only weeks ago. His birthday, the first one of his new life, celebrated with Werner on a cold weekend. And now the decisive moment had arrived, delivered to him by a simple mailman.
The past weeks had been a storm of rumors, tension and cold political calculation. Blomberg's marriage. The whispers. And now, finally, this.
...I deeply regret my violation of Wehrmacht standards… With this document, I declare my immediate resignation from all political, military, and civil offices.
Signed,Werner von Blomberg4 February 1938
Paul sat beside his fireplace. When he finished reading the letter, he sighed and tilted his head toward the ceiling, a faint smile crossing his lips.
Then he turned his gaze back to the crackling fire in front of him. It gave off a strong warmth, yet not strong enough to melt the ice that had gradually formed within.
He held the paper loosely in his right hand, letting the flames catch it. As soon as the edges ignited, he pulled it back and used it to light the cigar already resting between his lips.
He inhaled once, then tossed the burning document fully into the fire.
With this, Hitler has made himself the enemy of half the Wehrmacht officers, Paul thought as he reached for the telephone on the small table beside him. He dialed a number.
"Yes?" a voice answered.
"It's Heinrich. Have you received it too?" Paul asked.
"I have. This is unbelievable. Hitler is going too far with this staged dismissal. Do you think he wants absolute control?"
"Most definitely," Paul replied. "I suggest a meeting to address the concerns."
There was a brief pause before the man answered: "That is a good idea."
They spoke a little longer until Paul finally set the receiver down.
Yet after only a few seconds, he picked it up again and dialed a different number.
"Good evening, Deputy Minister," Paul said. The fire crackled behind him, his cigar still between his lips.
"Good evening, Oberst," Hess replied. "I assume you are calling because of the Blomberg situation?"
"You assumed correctly," Paul said.
"I only just found out myself. The Führer acted entirely on his own," Hess said, sounding sincere.
"I understand. I wanted to request a meeting with the Führer," Paul continued.
"A meeting..." Hess repeated. "That is possible. Although you do not need my permission. Your relationship with him is good enough, is it not?" His tone carried a hint of suspicion.
"Well, I thought it appropriate to honor our connection," Paul answered calmly.
"How thoughtful of you. I will arrange it. I am sure the Führer will be pleased to see you," Hess said, before the line went silent.
Paul looked back at the small table beside him. Three metallic figures stood upon it.
A wolf.
A lion.
And an eagle.
Their shadows, thrown by the firelight, stretched across the wall. The eagle loomed directly behind Paul.
The next morning
Paul stepped out of the still-running transport plane, slipping on his leather gloves as the cold mountain air hit him. The German Alps rose around him in majestic silence, their peaks cutting into the pale morning sky. The temperature was sharp, but invigorating.
On the runway, two SS officers stood waiting.
SS? Paul noted silently, surprised.
"Good day, Herr Oberst," they said, snapping to attention.
"Good day, soldiers," Paul replied.
They guided him toward a nearby car, which he entered without a word.
As he climbed inside, his eyes immediately met a familiar face already seated within.
"Herr Himmler," Paul greeted calmly.
"Herr Jeager, a pleasure to finally meet you," Himmler said. His thin smile did not reach his eyes.
Paul settled into the seat beside him and turned slightly."What do I owe the pleasure of meeting you?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"Well, Herr Jeager," Himmler began, adjusting his glasses. "Considering your remarkable rise within the Wehrmacht and the fame surrounding your actions, was it not time for us to meet?"His eyes gleamed with a strange, feverish intensity.
"Two giants are bound to meet," he added proudly.
Giant? You barely reach my chin, Paul thought with disgust. A truly despicable man.
Outwardly, only a second passed. Paul put on a polite smile, chuckling softly.
"I am not a patient man, so I will be frank. Are you here because of the Blomberg affair?" Himmler asked, his tone turning colder.
"Indeed. Did you know about the Führer's decision? You know it caused quite an uproar among those old men in the Wehrmacht." Paul said, brushing a bit of dust from his glove.
"I did know about it," Himmler replied.
Interesting. Either you or Hess is lying, or one of you holds far greater influence with the Führer. My bet is that Himmler is favored, Paul thought, listening closely to every word.
"Those old fools are relics of a bygone era. They should sit quietly and wait for their time to end. And it will end soon," Himmler said. He adjusted his glasses, briefly revealing a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Paul raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
Himmler opened his mouth, closed it again, then finally spoke.
"You are quite curious, Herr Jeager. I wonder which side you stand on. Although young, you were born from the womb of the Wehrmacht," Himmler analyzed, turning his head toward Paul with an expectant look.
I cannot appear too favorable, Paul thought, letting a deliberate silence stretch before answering.
"I have made the decision to stand beside the Führer. Although I am not pleased about Blomberg, I believe the Führer will prevail and the old foxes will fall. I chose my side the day I met him," Paul said, narrowing his eyes slightly.
Himmler studied him for a long moment, searching for any trace of hesitation.
"You are right. You are on the right side, Jeager." He gave Paul a firm pat on the shoulder.
"We have arrived," came a voice from the front. The car slowed to a stop before a beautiful Bavarian style mansion nestled in the heart of the Alps.
Paul exchanged brief farewells with Himmler before stepping out and heading toward the entrance.
An attendant approached and silently pointed him toward the rear garden.
There, Paul spotted a man in a brown uniform leaning against the railing, staring into the distance.
Hitler noticed him only when Paul stepped beside him.
"My young friend," he said. "Good to see you."
"My Führer, it's a pleasure to meet you again," Paul answered.
The man only nodded.
"You have come because of Blomberg," Hitler said, his tone dry.
"I have, and I wanted to say that I support your decision. I believe it was about time that the old foxes were put in their place," Paul said, waiting eagerly for a reaction.
Hitler's expression brightened.
"It's great to hear that, Jaeger!" he said, patting Paul on the shoulder. Then suddenly his grip tightened.
"They have betrayed me. They have betrayed the Fatherland. Idiots, all of them. It's better if I take control before these fools try anything," Hitler shouted, suddenly enraged.
Paul nodded once, deliberate but not too quickly. Too much agreement could seem desperate, too little could seem defiant.
"My Führer," he answered softly, "Germany is strongest when your hand guides it. The chaos others create only proves how necessary your leadership is."
Hitler paused for a moment before a smile appeared on his face.
"Well said, well said...Yes" he muttered, suddenly sounding pleased.
"You know, Jaeger, you are a blessing. An anchor. I wish to reward you. Do you have any wishes?" Hitler asked, looking at Paul expectantly.
Interesting, Paul thought.
"My Führer, please grant me the honor of removing any nuisances within the Wehrmacht, now and in the future. That would fill me with great happiness," Paul said.
"Granted. Whenever they speak one word too many, one lie too often, I will call upon you to keep them in place," Hitler said.
The two men continued to talk for a while longer, Hitler sometimes gesturing toward the distance, sometimes speaking about mountains, sometimes about enemies.
Stepping inside, he sank into his seat and closed his eyes almost immediately.
The shuddering of the airplane woke him again. He straightened slowly, blinking at the window. The night sky above Stuttgart was clearly visible, calm and untouched by what weighed on his mind.
When Paul exited the plane a second time, rain was pouring down from above, cold and relentless.
He climbed into the car already waiting for him. The ride took about half an hour, the final ten minutes spent on a steady climb up the winding road.
When the car finally stopped, he stepped out and found himself in the looming shadow of a majestic castle that blocked out the moon entirely.
First the lion, and now the pack of wolves. Who will tear whom apart? Or will the eagle circling above, intervene? Paul wondered as he walked toward the grand entrance, guarded by Wehrmacht soldiers.
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