The Blitzkrieg

By David O'Neil

Emerging from beneath the dark shadows of corruption comes a cabal of voracious predators who will stop at nothing nor allow anyone or anything to stand in their way as they execute a global conspiracy to gain evil totalitarianism control of the world and create a New World Order under their relentless power. It seems that no one can halt the spread of their empire and soon the world will be theirs. Murder, coercion, blackmail, human trafficking, nothing nor no one was exempt. Nation after nation became subject to their secret dictatorship.

But then they made a mistake. Just a small mistake, in their eyes, but a mistake that could lead to their doom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: W & B Publishers
• Release date: May 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463769898

David O'Neil

David is 79 years old. He lives in Scotland and has been writing for the past five years. He has had three guidebooks published and two more coming out through Argyll Publishing, located in the Highlands. He still guides tours through Scotland, when he is not writing or painting. He has sailed for decades and has a lifelong interest in the history of the navy. As a young man, he learned to fly aircraft in the RAF and spent 8 years as a Colonial police officer in what is now Malawi, Central Africa. Since that time, he worked in the Hi Fi industry and became a Business Consultant. David lives life to the fullest, he has yet to retire and truthfully, never intends to.

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Part 1

~The Blitzkrieg~

Chapter 1

…Westminster, London

…December 1932

In a luxurious penthouse office high above the River Thames in the nation’s capital, the man quietly waited. He was seated in a large burgundy-colored well-upholstered executive chair behind a huge wooden, gold and ivory-inlaid desk that matched the plush decor of the suite. A broad-shouldered man of slightly more than medium height and build, his well-groomed, darkly- tanned face showed no sign of age. The wiry, tightly-coiled iron-grey hair revealed no bald spots and was neatly coifed, stylishly cut. An aura of enormous potent power emanated from the man who sat calmly in the tall leather chair, his thick forearms resting on the desk pad. In one hand he was holding a fine china cup of steaming aromatic herbal tea, while in the long, graceful fingers of the other hand, he held a single sheet of paper covered with print. He placed the paper on the desk pad as a light knock at the door drew his attention. The door opened and his secretary walked in, followed by another person.

Mr. Smythe, the secretary’s modulated, well-trained professional voice complemented the rest of the young male secretary; tall, slender, light skin and pale blonde hair. The voice carried just the slightest hint of a European-Scandinavian accent. Although seeming to be a much younger man, the male secretary had just celebrated his thirty-fifth birthday three days earlier, which was also the sixteenth anniversary of his employment by Mr. Smythe. Even so, the secretary knew as little about his employer as he did the day he was first hired.

Mr. Smythe, he repeated, Mr. – er – Baron Oskar von Kendenburg, Sir; of the Drittes Reich, the secretary identified the third person.

The individual who had entered the office door opened by the secretary walked, or rather marched, toward the massive mahogany desk as the secretary left the office, closing the door behind him.

The newcomer was a handsome, blonde, Nordic type man, rising several inches above six feet as he stood ramrod straight before the desk. His brownish hair was cropped short, neatly trimmed over his small ears and collar, in what was easily recognized as a military-style cut. His youthful blonde, strong face was ruddy, sporting a neatly shaped mustache. The man’s arctic blue eyes did not reflect the smile that was on his face as he came to an abrupt halt at the desk, and with an obvious effort, smothered a military salute.

Herr Schmitt? His accent revealed his Teutonic ancestry even more than did his military bearing.

Just Mr. Smythe. Geoffrey Smythe, Baron Von Kendenburg. Please, won’t you be seated?

The young man sat perched on an armchair that had been placed in front of the desk, his posture almost as rigid as he had stood only moments earlier.

Ach! Schmit – er – Smythe. But, of course. A good, anonymous English name. However, my father has told me much about you. And he also spoke about your organization, International Enterprises Diversified. He said that you and your associates control the flow of most of the world’s petroleum crude.

Most? Hah! Virtually all, rather. But, be that as it may. And how is your father, President Paul von Kendenburg? Smythe asked.

He is well. Danke! And he has sent his greetings to you.

That’s quiet good of him. Mr. Smythe’s smooth, well-educated voice was without accent, offering no clue as to his origin. And did your father send anything else?

Jawol! Herr...er...Mr. Smythe. There is much else, but my father is reluctant to put any thing in writing.

Easily understood, Herr von Kendenburg. What do you have?

I shall be as blunt as you, Mr. Smythe, the young Nordic blond said. My instructions are to inform you that on 30 January, 1933—next month— my father, the President of the German Republic, will appoint Adolph Hitler as Chancellor of Germany.

Smythe’s face showed no sign of surprise. I have been reliably informed that your father despises this Hitler. In fact, didn’t he recently refer to Hitler as ‘that Austrian Corporal’ and as ‘that Bohemian Corporal’? Or just as ‘that Corporal’? And didn’t your father run for reelection because he was certain that he himself was the only candidate in Germany who could keep Hitler from becoming President of Germany?

You are quite correct, Mr. Smythe. My father did, and still does, abhor Hitler. And everything that the man stands for.

Even so, your father is going to appoint Hitler to the head office in the Republic of Germany?

Politics makes strange bedfellows, Mr. Smythe. As you well know. One often does what one must, not what one wants, and the fact is that Hitler must be accommodated. It is by necessity, not by choice that my father—the President—will act.

Of course, your father is aware that war with your neighbors will be inevitable.

He is very much aware as are most of the others. And in order for Germany to be successful, Hitler and his people must have a steady and dependable supply of petroleum. That supply must come from outside of Europe. And that means you.

Smythe sat silently, ignoring the veiled invitation to commit.

Herr Smythe, von Kendenburg stood and unbuttoned the inside pocket of the jacket he wore and removed a large envelope. Reaching across the wide desktop, he presented the packet to Smythe.

Smythe opened the flap and withdrew several sheets of paper while von Kendenburg resumed his seat.

Glancing quickly through the papers, Smythe leaned back in the tall, leather chair, his eyes closed, no expression on his calm face. Then, after several moments, he sat erect, replacing the sheets of paper into the envelope and laid it on the top of his desk. Folding his arms, he leaned forward over the desk.

"You are aware that at present we are sending over five hundred thousand barrels of oil per day into Germany?’

Of course, Herr Smythe.

You are also aware that we are supplying more than ninety percent of the total German petroleum consumption?

Jawol.

And now your father wants us to guarantee to provide a minimum of five times that amount?

It is what is needed, Herr Smythe. German must have you and your petroleum. And you do have the letters of credit.

That is obvious, Herr von Kendenburg. Your father makes that clear.

You also have the gold notes executed by Hjalmar Smidt? von Hindenburg’s comments weren’t a question, but rather an affirmation.

Obviously.

Then you know that the German banks have been nationalized and that the German treasury has been safely deposited into Swiss banks. And that the German major industries are being nationalized as well.

I am well aware of what Smidt has done, Mr. Smythe stated.

There is also a future program that will be announced shortly. By October of 1936, Hitler will have his personnel—Herman Goring, Fritz Todt and Walter Funk—in place, and will have control of all of the industry of Germany and the German military, as well.

We have been aware of Hitler’s plan for more than three years, Mr. Smythe admitted. But your father has always resisted that program.

My father…my father is not in the best of health. At the moment, he is under the care of Hitler’s personal physicians, who will, of course, make certain that he gets the best of care. My father’s health—and life—is in the hands of those doctors.. And they will…eh.... It is my understanding that the President will soon withdraw his objection, von Kendenburg said.

Smythe sat quietly contemplating. If that is so—if your father, President Paul von Kendenburg, does not become a road block—then, and only then, Baron Oskar von Kendenburg, my people will accept the assignment of the gold certificates of deposit in Switzerland and the International Enterprises Diversified will increase petroleum shipments to Germany to a total of three million five hundred thousand barrels per day. We will fuel your war wagon.

But there is one thing more, Smythe added. We want majority ownership in The Krupp Group.

The Krupp Group? The industrialists? The factories that made the seven Paris Guns? von Kendenburg asked in surprise.

That is correct, Smythe responded. We want the munitions manufacturers. And further. My people insists on controlling ownership of the MEFO Company, the organization that is purchasing all of the armament for Germany. Otherwise, no further petroleum. Not only no increase, but we will terminate shipments to Germany altogether."

Why would you do that? von Kendenburg was shocked.

With Hitler in power, another war is inevitable. Should it be discovered that International Enterprises Diversified has continued to deliver products to Germany, every nation in the world would turn against us. The risks are great. The rewards must justify the risks. Smythe’s voice was emotionless.

I see. von Kendenburg mused.

Well?

That is completely understandable. Very well. It is acceptable, Herr Smythe. Both to my father and Herr Hitler.

~*~

…Berlin, Germany

…August 27, 1934

Today, the death of German President Paul von Kendenburg was announced by the German Reichstag. President von Kendenburg has long been suffering from illness, and despite the finest of German medical caregivers and doctors personally chosen by Chancellor Adolph Hitler himself, the President has succumbed to his debilitating illness.

~*~

Immediately following the announcement of President von Kendenburg’s death, Adolph Hitler was installed as Fuhrer and Reichskanzler of Nazi Germany as well as the Supreme Commander of the German armed forces and head of the Reichswehr.

~*~

Smythe’s prediction of global war was about to become stark, deadly reality.

Chapter 2

In the dark of the night of August 30, 1939, a small band of German commando operatives led by Adolf Heinz, under orders from the leaders of the Nazi Party, seized the Gleiwitz radio station and broadcast a message in Polish that urged the Poles living in Silesia to rise up against Germans. The Germans’ goal was to make the attack and the broadcast appear to be the work of anti-German Polish saboteurs.

In order to make the attack scene even more convincing, the Germans brought in Grancisk Duniok, a German Sicilian known for sympathizing with the Poles, who had been arrested the previous day by the Gestapo. Duniok was dressed to look like a saboteur; then killed by gunshot wounds, and left dead at the scene, so that he appeared to have been killed while attacking the station. His corpse was subsequently presented as proof of the attack to the police and press.

In addition to Duniok, several other convicts were kept available for this purpose. The bodies of the other convicts were left as further evidence of the attack.

On September 1, 1939 the German tanks and army that had been amassed on the northern, southern and western borders of Poland began their invasion. The well-oiled German war machine began to roll as massive inventories and supplies of petroleum were made available.

Europe was aflame.

~*~

…London, England

…September 1, 1939

"BBC Evening News announced that 03:50 this morning, Germany has invaded the sovereign nation of Poland.

The Prime Minister, Sir Winston Churchill has stated that: ‘This vile and evil action shall not be allowed to stand The United Kingdom shall join with its stalwart ally, France in declaring war against the forces of Nazi Germany and its demonic leader, Adolph Hitler’.

Chapter 3

…Ballantran, South Ayrshire, Scotland

…Glenapp Castle

…June 21, 1941

Mr. Hess? Mr. Rudolf Hess?

At your service, Mein Herr!

My name is Clement Attlee, Deputy Prime Minister of England, serving at the convenience of the Prime Minister, Sir Winston Churchill.

I had asked to see Prime Minister Churchill himself. Hess responded coldly.

Right. But then, that’s not going to happen. The Deputy Prime Minister’s voice was firm and icy.

I beg your pardon? You did inform him that I am here on behalf of the Fuhrer himself on a matter of great importance? Hess asked.

Mr. Hess, Prime Minister Churchill is adamant. So long as your German forces occupy so much as one inch of another sovereign nation, there will be no meeting, no negotiating. The Kingdom just will not stand by while you continue your dastardly invasion tactics.

Germany poses no threat to England. The Fuhrer wants to come to terms with the Prime Minister. Hess stated.

The proper way to do that is to withdraw from Russia, Poland, the Norwegian states, and revert back to your geographical boundaries of March, 1933. Then enter into open negotiations with all governments. There was no give in Attlee’s tone.

Nein! The Fuhrer will never agree! Hess shouted.

And Britain shall never negotiate any sort of agreement to end war. Mr. Hess, the plane you wrecked while landing has been restored. You shall remove yourself from any territory of the United Kingdom by five o’clock this evening! Good day, sir! Attlee walked away from the sputtering Hess without further comment.

~*~

At 7:48 a.m. local time (Hawaii) on the morning of December 7, 1941, three hundred and fifty-three airplanes operated by the Imperial Japanese Navy launched a surprise military strike against the United States naval base at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. All eight U.S. Navy battleships at anchor in the