“My Fuhrer…
this is an great honor, and I’m deeply grateful.
But…
are you certain this is wise?”
Schacht still looked stunned.
“What is it, Schacht?” I asked.
“Have you lost confidence in yourself?”
“No, nothing of the sort.”
He shook his head.
“My concern is whether Goring will accept it.”
The Second Four-Year Plan had all but been decided.
Everyone expected Goring to take charge, and the announcement was likely only a month away from becoming public knowledge within the Party.
No wonder Schacht found the sudden reversal difficult to believe.
“My Fuhrer,” Count Krosigk said cautiously, “if I may…
what has brought about these abrupt changes?
Your policies seem to be shifting one after another.
It’s…
rather difficult to keep up.”
“What is it, Count?
Do you object?”
“No, not object,” he replied carefully.
“Only…
isn’t all of this happening rather suddenly?”
Like his title suggested, Count Krosigk belonged to Germany’s old aristocratic establishment.
Among the Reich’s leadership, he represented the conservative old guard.
His views on the Jews, however, were complicated.
Perhaps because he was a conservative, he had long viewed the prominent role Jews played in finance and industry with mixed feelings.
It was clear that suspending the anti-Jewish campaign didn’t sit comfortably with him.
Which, ironically, is exactly why he’s useful.
Schacht and Krosigk didn’t get along.
Part of it came from their positions.
The Ministry of Economics and the Ministry of Finance had responsibilities that often overlapped, making conflict almost inevitable.
They also held very different opinions regarding the Jewish question.
Unlike Goring, Goebbels, and Himmler, they didn’t openly fight one another.
Instead, they quietly kept each other in check.
From a dictator’s perspective…
That balance was remarkably convenient.
“Count,” I said, “my intention to resolve the Jewish question has not changed.”
I paused deliberately.
“But every undertaking has its proper order.”
“First, we strengthen the nation.”
“Only then will we resolve the Jewish question.”
“That is my policy.”
This time it was Schacht who looked dissatisfied.
Please one side, and the other immediately found something to complain about.
I’m not planning to take either side…
Though if I had to choose, it’d probably be Schacht.
As Minister of Economics, he was exceptionally capable.
The First Four-Year Plan had relied on questionable financial methods, but there was no denying that its apparent success owed much to Schacht’s skill.
“In that case, my Fuhrer,” Schacht asked, “what exactly will the Second Four-Year Plan entail?
Will it simply continue the program Göring was preparing?”
The plan Goring had been drafting amounted to little more than a wartime command economy.
Germany still depended heavily on imported raw materials.
Apart from coal, the country possessed very little in the way of natural resources.
As things stood, Germany wasn’t prepared to fight a prolonged war.
So what had Hitler’s circle decided to do?
They had resolved to achieve self-sufficiency at almost any cost.
Synthetic fuel produced from coal.
Synthetic rubber.
Factories would be built in enormous numbers, regardless of whether they made economic sense.
Germany lacked resources.
But it possessed technology.
German engineering is the greatest in the wor—
…Wait.
Where did that thought even come from?
I nearly laughed.
Germany really did possess world-class chemical companies like IG Farben.
On paper, they were merely consulting industry experts.
In reality, however, Goring and his associates—men with little understanding of economics—had been all too willing to accept whatever the industrial firms proposed.
The historical Second Four-Year Plan had ultimately become a patchwork of improvised decisions driven more by ambition than sound planning.
I had no intention of repeating that mistake.
“Of course it won’t,” I answered firmly.
“The Second Four-Year Plan will be rebuilt from the ground up.”
I looked around the room.
“All of you will turn what I’m about to tell you into reality.”
“You have one month.”
“Within one month, I expect concrete proposals and detailed plans.”
I wasn’t an engineer.
I couldn’t design aircraft or engines.
I wasn’t an expert in logistics or weapons development.
But I did know something no one else in that room could possibly know.
I knew which weapons would matter.
Which logistical systems would prove decisive.
Which strategies history had already shown to be victorious.
Well then…
Time to put my knowledge of the future to work.