“My Reichsfuhrer…
what exactly is the meaning of this?”
“Heydrich, these are the Fuhrer’s orders.
They must be carried out.”
Though I don’t fully understand them myself…
Ever since yesterday’s celebration, something about the Fuhrer had felt…
off.
He was no stranger to issuing unexpected orders—that was simply his nature.
But this latest change of policy was extreme, even by his standards.
Until now, the regime had devoted itself wholeheartedly to driving the Jews out of the Reich.
And then, without warning, came the order:
Suspend the anti-Jewish campaign.
“But Reichsfuhrer Himmler,” Heydrich said carefully, “this will be extraordinarily difficult.
Every man in the SS is fiercely anti-Jewish.
It’s one of the principles we’ve built the organization around.
To ask us to suppress those sentiments overnight…”
“Heydrich, I know.
But these are the Fuhrer’s orders.”
Himmler folded his arms.
“He said the purpose is to divert the attention of the foreign powers…”
He frowned.
“But I can’t believe that’s the whole story.”
“I suspect he has another objective in mind.”
“Another objective…?”
Heydrich fell silent.
The office at SS Headquarters sank into uneasy quiet.
Still…
if anyone can make this work, it’s him.
Himmler held Heydrich in exceptionally high regard.
Tall, blond, and blue-eyed, Heydrich possessed what the regime considered the ideal Aryan appearance.
But his looks weren’t what impressed Himmler most.
It was his extraordinary talent for gathering and analyzing intelligence.
He was also in the process of building an increasingly capable intelligence apparatus within the SS.
If anyone was suited to unraveling the Fuhrer’s intentions, it was Heydrich.
“During the Olympics,” Heydrich finally said, “the Fuhrer met with dignitaries from many different countries.
The most reasonable explanation is that one of those conversations caused him to reconsider his policies.”
He looked toward Himmler.
“Can you think of anything in particular, Reichsfuhrer?”
“Hmm…”
Himmler searched his memory, recalling the foreign officials the Fuhrer had met over the past several weeks.
Nothing stood out.
Except…
The Fuhrer’s behavior at last night’s celebration had been strange.
To be precise…
Just before he left the banquet…
For the briefest instant…
It had felt as though he had become someone else.
An entirely different person.
“Nothing during the Olympics comes to mind,” Himmler admitted.
“But Heydrich…
something happened at the celebration yesterday.”
“For just a moment…”
“He seemed like a completely different man.”
“A different man…?”
Heydrich frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Himmler answered with complete seriousness.
“Perhaps…”
“The Fuhrer came into contact with a being from a higher plane of existence.”
“…I see.”
Heydrich couldn’t hide the confusion in his voice.
“It would not be impossible for the Fuhrer,” Himmler insisted.
“Hasn’t he repeatedly acted as though he could see the future?”
“Perhaps…”
Heydrich replied diplomatically.
“But Reichsfuhrer…
shouldn’t our immediate concern be how to ensure the SS accepts the Fuhrer’s new directive?”
Heydrich was, above all else, a pragmatist.
Rather than contradicting his superior outright, he gently steered the discussion back toward practical matters.
“You’re right.”
Himmler nodded.
“If we’re suspending the campaign against the Jews…”
“…then perhaps we simply need to redirect the SS toward another enemy.”
“The communists, for example.”
“That seems like the most practical approach.”
The two men spent the rest of the meeting discussing how best to keep the SS united while carrying out the Fuhrer’s unexpected orders.
Neither of them realized it at the time.
Ironically, Himmler—with all his fascination for the occult—had come closer to the truth than either of them could possibly imagine.