“You sent for us, my Fuhrer?”
“My Fuhrer!
It has been far too long!”
The two men who entered were Joachim von Ribbentrop, Germany’s ambassador to Britain, and Foreign Minister Konstantin von Neurath.
(I’d heard they couldn’t stand each other, but this is even worse than I imagined.)
The two of them hated one another.
“Hated” was putting it mildly—they saw each other as rivals.
Ribbentrop was still a relative newcomer within the Nazi Party, but he was fiercely ambitious.
He clearly wanted to join the inner circle—the infamous trio at the top.
Even if he couldn’t become one of them, he wanted enough influence to rival them.
That was why he constantly flattered me, and why, despite serving as ambassador to Britain, he kept returning to Germany at every opportunity.
Neurath, on the other hand, was the very definition of an establishment elite.
He had served Germany since the days of the German Empire and was a career diplomat through and through.
The Foreign Ministry bureaucracy respected him, and under normal circumstances, a man twenty years younger like Ribbentrop would never have been considered a serious rival.
But in recent years, the balance between them had shifted.
In fact, among ordinary Germans—and even within the Nazi Party itself—more and more voices were beginning to favor Ribbentrop.
The reason was simple.
Europe’s rapidly changing political climate somehow meshed perfectly with Ribbentrop’s reckless, almost fanatical personality.
The Anglo-German Naval Agreement and the remilitarization of the Rhineland were prime examples.
Any conventional diplomat would have struggled to pull off either.
But there was something terrifying about a man who simply refused to back down.
By sheer stubbornness, Ribbentrop had somehow made both succeed.
Of course, from the perspective of professional diplomacy, Neurath’s approach was the sounder one.
Germany might have gained favorable terms in individual negotiations, but taken as a whole, the Reich was steadily isolating itself from the rest of Europe.
Then again, ordinary people couldn’t see the bigger picture.
Frankly, even I only noticed it because I had knowledge of the future.
Regardless, the results spoke for themselves.
Lately, Ribbentrop had been producing tangible successes while Neurath found himself steadily losing ground.
“It has been a while, Ribbentrop.
How are things in Britain?”
“Thank you, my Fuhrer!
There’s no place like the Reich!
As for progress toward an Anglo-German alliance…
I’m afraid there hasn’t been much.
My deepest apologies.”
(That ‘it’s been a while’ was meant as a little jab.)
Apparently Neurath caught the sarcasm.
He looked genuinely surprised.
Ribbentrop had originally been appointed ambassador to Britain at Hitler’s own insistence.
His ultimate mission was to secure an alliance between Germany and Britain.
Needless to say, that was no easy task.
He was struggling even to create favorable conditions for such an agreement.
“It can’t be helped.
Britain is still the British Empire.
These things take time.”
“Thank you, my Fuhrer!
I shall devote myself entirely to the task.”
(Let’s just hope he doesn’t make things worse…)
The man had a habit of making enemies wherever he went.
As a diplomat, he inspired very little confidence.
“Good.
I’m counting on you.”
I turned toward Foreign Minister Neurath.
“I summoned both of you today for one reason: to explain the Reich’s diplomatic policy going forward.”
“And what policy would that be, my Fuhrer?”
“I understand.
Please, enlighten us.”
One response was filled with eager enthusiasm.
The other barely concealed its reluctance.
It wasn’t difficult to tell which belonged to whom.
“The Reich will align itself with the Empire of Japan in the Far East.
From this point forward, we will no longer support the Republic of China.”
“Please reconsider!”
Neurath burst out before I had even finished.
“That island nation on the other side of the world has nothing to offer the Reich!
During the last war they contributed almost nothing, yet they shamelessly seized Germany’s interests in the Far East like scavengers picking over a burning house!”
Ribbentrop, who was already arranging the Anti-Comintern Pact scheduled to be signed later that month, remained perfectly calm.
Neurath, however, had long favored closer ties with China and was visibly outraged.
“So, Minister…
you oppose this policy.”
“Naturally!
We should be strengthening our ties with China, not Japan.
China may be poor, but its enormous population more than makes up for it.
It could become one of the Reich’s greatest export markets.”
(Ironically, that’s exactly what the great power across the Atlantic is thinking as well.)
“It seems I need to explain my reasoning in greater detail.”
I turned to Ribbentrop.
“You have a meeting with Military Attaché Ōshima later today, don’t you?”
“Yes, my Fuhrer.”
“Tell him I look forward to seeing him on the twenty-fifth.”
“At once!
If you’ll excuse me.
Please summon me whenever you require.
Heil Hitler!”
(Or better yet, spend that energy winning Britain over…)
Ribbentrop saluted smartly and hurried from the room.
Once the door closed, only two people remained:
A visibly dissatisfied career diplomat…
and the Fuhrer.