Chapter 6: Country Matters
4th June 1936
“That’s a bit strong.”
“Only to the well-read, Alan. Only to the well-read.”
…
Copenhagen, Denmark
“Fascinating,” King Christian X of Denmark drawled down the phone.
His brother, Haakon VII of Norway, had been pestering him for hours on the fish he had caught that day. It had ceased to be interesting after five minutes, briefly became interesting again after thirty, and he had lost the will to live an hour after that.
“Well, I must be getting on. Being ceremonial head of state, you know. Things to not do.”
He tried not too sound too bitter about that. In the end, whilst he did have some desire to have some input on government, he was sixty-six and rather tired.
The phoneline suddenly went dead, ‘Rude’ he thought, and as he placed the receiver down, he began to take note of his surroundings. Apparently, he had zoned out quite a bit, because there appeared to be a great deal of shouting and moving about outside the palace, and what sounded like guns firing.
“Oh, what’s the matter now?” he huffed, crossing over to the window and leaning out. “You lot! What’s going on down there?”
One of the soldiers looked up at him in alarm. “The city is overrun sire! Save yourself!” Then he was rather dramatically shot and keeled over.
“Oh for Heavens…” Christian withdrew from the window and paced over to his desk. It was far too late to think about moving the family or running away if the fighting had already reached the palace walls. Bloody Haakon. Nothing for it, he supposed. He would just have to eat his lead like a man, like a king.
When they came for him, he was relaxed and smoking a cigarette, looking over some photographs of his life. “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said, not looking up. “I suppose you are here for me?”
“We are, Your Majesty.”
Hmm. Well, at least they would say the right things as they shot him.
“Shall you kill me here, or would you prefer to do it outside.” He sounded a lot calmer than he felt.
“Sire? We are representatives from the nationalist unionists, sweeping the country clean of democratic weakness and foreign influence.”
“Yes, yes,” he waved away the party line. “Get on with it.”
“We have seized parliament, hold the kingdom under our command, and the people are with us. Now it only stands…”
Here it comes.
“…to declare fealty to Your Majesty, and present you back with the absolute power the Crown should have always possessed.” All the men knelt before him. “We are your humble servants and shall do all you ask.”
“Er…what?”
…
Paris, France
“Eh, moi fellow frenchies,” the President of France began, “’ow goes the nation today?”
“Tres bien, Monsier le Presedente,” one of the government ministers, possibly the Finance Secretary, shrugged, after downing his glass of wine.
“Bon, bon. Ees everythan re-di for diner?”
“Oh, wi, wi,” the Chief Cook said, and had some more wine.
“Bon. To diner then. We weel return to werk anozzer time!”
Unbeknownst to the French cabinet, the fascists and the communists fought each other in the streets.
…
Moscow, Russia
“They’re all out to get you, Joe,” the voice told him, “all of them. They’re all in on it. They’ve been listening at the curtains and have been selling the secrets of your toilet to foreign spies.”
It was true of course. All of it.
“You have to handle this. You have to be strong. Tough. You want to be strong and tough, don’t you?”
He did.
“It’s not so bad, Joe. Nothing so serious or excessive or abrupt. No one will think any less of you for doing what needs to be done.”
Yes…yes, that didn’t sound so bad.
“You just have to kill them, Joe. Kill the bad people. All the bad people. Then they won’t be able to get you. Not yet anyway. Just sign the papers, Joe. Make the call. Be the man. You are a man, aren’t you.
He was a man. A real man.
“Good man, Joe. I’ll be back to talk to you soon, my friend. Don’t forget about what we talked about.
“I won’t, Mr Peanuts. I won’t.”
Joseph Stalin gently tucked his bear into bed and gave it a small kiss. Then he turned to the waiting table full of party officials and members. “You heard him,” he roared. “Traitors, all of them! They have to die! Kill them all!”
Everyone agreed, and as they were allowed to leave, a few quietly went to the cleaning cupboard, and began pondering whether this really was all they wanted in life.
…
Berlin, Germany
“Germany has fallen entirely under our control, Herr Mackensen.”
“Good, good,” the eighty seven year old Field Marshall admired his reflection in the mirror, noted his perfect Moustache and mighty busby hat, and turned to face the room. “My friends, gentlemen of Germany, and officers of the Reich. This day has been a long time coming. We all recognise that Nazism has gone too far, become too intolerable, and a change is required.”
“Indeed,” one of the older generals rumbled…then paused. “What exactly did we not like about Hitler?”
“Well, obviously we approve of his absurdly overambitious and ruinously expensive rearmament program, even now continuing to bankrupt the state,” Mackenson began, to a general round of nodded.
“We also despise democracy, liberalism, the so-called Weimar Republic, the Treaty of Versailles, and have all previously supported the Nazis in one way or another…well, those of us who are still alive anyway.”
More nodding.
“Further, we agree that Germany must expand again to include all Germans, including Austria if at all possible, and that the decadent western powers, plus Poland, must be soundly punished.”
No one disagreed.
“We also follow their sensible approach regarding minorities, the disabled, the foreign and in particular the jews…that is to say, we do not like them, and it would be better if they were to disappear, one way or another.”
More nods.
“But!” he slammed a fist down on the table, and then winced at his hurt hand, “it is unacceptable that the army is not in total control of Germany, as it was during the Great War! Why, Germany achieved its greatest extent and highest successes when we were all in charge! But the Nazis, despite basically agreeing with everything else they said and did, wanted to control US! The arrogance! The wickedness! The Humanity! It could not stand, my brother officers! That is why we have taken over. To reassert sane governance…and a military dictatorship.” He paused. “Also we have no money, and we really need to find some soon. And we should probably decide if we want to invite a monarch back in so we can ignore him like last time.”
The German General staff looked at one another in silence after the speech.
“What that all sounds reasonable.”
“I agree.”
“Who could possibly protest such actions?”
“Indeed! Indeed!”
Von Mackensen sighed in happiness and turned back to gaze at his reflection.
This was good.
…
London
Prime Minister Baldwin sat down, having finished his summary of the aftermath of the Abdication Crisis. Thankfully, everyone had behaved relatively sensibly, aside from someone willingly marrying Wallis Simpson, and everything was now fine.
“Is that all right, everyone?”
Everyone agreed that this sounded basically fine.
“Right then, if we could go round and just check up on things.”
Neville Chamberlain stood, and explained briefly that the government investments in the shadow factory scheme were working as expected, the economy continued to recover from the slump, and that everything was fine.
Anthony Eden emerged to explain that as all of Britian’s adversaries were otherwise occupied, or the US, that the short to medium term outlook was positively fine, with long term implications for the British Empire being extraordinary okay to good.
The army and navy were in the middle of rearmament and were fine.
The education of children and the state of the nation’s health were fine.
The civil service continued to operate and run smoothly, ensuring that everything was fine.
The general mood in India was that everything was fine, the Princes were happy, Gandhi was getting nowhere, and everything was fine.
Ireland was basically as fine as could be expected.
There was a brief upset as the new King and his family adjusted to their new status and roles, but everything was fine now, and it’s all fine.
“There was one wrinkle, Prime Minister,” Eden said, turning to the last page of his report. “The Italians have succeeded in their war, which was unexpected. Quite what they expect to get out of Ethiopia, I don’t even think they know, but it is something to consider.”
“Oh, I’m sure everything is fine,” Chaberlain said dismissively before Baldwin could speak. “Is there any indication that things are worrying in any way?”
“Well, no. Mussolini continues to grapple with popularity and party issues, their army is woeful, their industry inept, and they appear to have stopped all production of naval vessels for some reason.”
“That does sound like nothing to worry about, and that everything is fine,” Baldwin said, looking to Chamberlain.”
“I agree,” he nodded. “Everything is fine, Foreign Secretary. Nothing to worry about.
