The Ten Thousand

the airman took a step back. At 2:45 in the morning, the last thing that the airman on guard wanted to do was to rouse Lowery's anger. Rather than press the matter, the sentinel brought his weapon up into the proper position for saluting when under arms and told both German colonels that they could pass. Haas, sensing that there had been a bit of trouble, gave the American airman a casual salute and followed Maier, saying nothing as he went.

Once in the corridor leading to the command booth, Maier told Haas in German of the call from Berlin and repeated General Gorb's skimpy instructions. Then he stopped, when he saw no one was in the corridor. When Haas also stopped and faced him, Maier blurted, 'What in heaven's name is all of this about? How in the devil did you get onto this base and are you?'

Haas, his face frozen like a mask, cut Maier short. Not only was there an urgent need to get on with this, but Haas held all aviators, regardless of rank or branch of service, in contempt. They were, to him, a combat commander who was expected to perform anywhere, anytime, under any conditions, overpaid and underworked prima donnas. 'You are to take me to General Lowery immediately and introduce me as the commander of the 26th Parachute Brigade. When I speak, you will translate everything I say, word for word and without the slightest hesitation. Is that clear, Colonel?'

Maier felt himself flush with anger at Haas's demeanor and tone. Haas saw this but did not relent. 'Colonel, I am sure that your superiors informed you that you were to do exactly what I tell you and that we had little time. Now, either you take me to Lowery without any further delays, or I will find him myself.'

There was no trace of apology, no sign that Haas had any intention of telling him anything. Instead, all Maier saw was a harsh face, a face as harsh as the man's words and manner. Without another word, Maier started toward the command booth, then Haas spoke. 'And remember, you will translate everything without any modification. If you don't, I will know. I am fluent in English.'

Maier let that matter drop. There were, after all, many German officers who resented the old regulation that had required all senior officers to learn English in order to work with their American allies even though it was the Americans who had come to Germany. Haas's refusal to speak English, Maier thought, was either a matter of pride or, more than likely, was to show that this action was being done in the name of the German nation and, as such, should be presented in German, even if it was just a formality. Resigned to the fact that he would not learn what this was all about until Haas was in the presence of the American general, Maier continued down the corridor with Haas following.

Lowery was shaken out of his gloomy thoughts by the sound of boots coming up behind him and his operations officer shouting Maier's name. Pushing himself off of the wall to his front with one foot, he swung his seat around, stopping just as Maier and Haas reached him. Behind them, he could see that his operations officer had left his desk and was headed over to join them.

For a moment no one said anything as Lowery looked the German parachute officer over. His ruddy face and the muddy snow on his boots melting into a puddle at his feet told Lowery that this man had just come in from the outside. Except for the maroon beret the German Army colonel wore pulled down low on his forehead, everything from the stern expression to the submachine gun slung over his right shoulder and partially hidden under his right arm told Lowery that he was ready for battle. He was about to ask what this was all about when Maier, without looking into Lowery's eyes, barked an introduction. 'General Lowery, this is Colonel Johann Haas, commanding officer of the 26th Parachute Brigade. I have been ordered to present him to you and translate.'

From behind Maier and Haas, the operations officer yelled, 'Now just hold it here a minute. Just hold everything a cotton-pickin' minute. Colonel Maier, what in the hell do you mean bringing this?'

Looking down at Lowery, Haas fixed his gaze on Lowery's upturned eyes. In a voice that was firm and told Lowery that he was not to be trifled with, Haas began to speak German in a rather slow and deliberate manner. Lowery, whose German barely enabled him to order a beer and Wiener schnitzel on his own, glanced over to Maier as he waited for the translation. From the expression on Maier's face, now growing visibly pale and taut, what Haas had to say really bothered Maier. When Haas was finished, rather than translate, Maier turned his head to face Haas. Haas, who had been looking at Lowery, returned Maier's stare when he did not hear him translating. The look that he gave Maier was cold, uncompromising, and angry. Finally, Maier drew a deep breath, looked down at Lowery, and with a great effort began to speak.

'General Lowery, in order to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, Colonel Haas requests that you immediately order your security personnel guarding the nuclear weapons under your control to stand down and return to their barracks.'

Only the muted conversations of junior staff officers in the operations room below could be heard in the stunned silence that followed Maier's translation. No one moved, no one spoke as all the colonels on Lowery's staff looked first at Haas, then at Lowery. Finally overcoming his own shock, Lowery slowly stood up in front of Haas. When his entire six-foot-five frame was erect, he looked down at Haas. 'On whose authority are you making this demand?'

Haas, looking up at the American general, didn't wait for Maier to translate from English to German before he responded. Finished, Haas glared at Lowery while Maier, having ceased all conscious thought, mechanically translated. 'I have been ordered by Chancellor Johann Ruff to seize the nuclear weapons that your government has brought into my-country in violation of the Berlin Accord signed by both your government and mine.'

That Maier didn't translate Lowery's question before Haas responded did not escape the general's notice. This colonel, Lowery thought to himself, was being very formal and very hard-nosed about this. It was, Lowery thought, as if Haas felt it was beneath his dignity as a representative of the German government to lower himself to speaking English. Well, Lowery thought, two can play hard-ass. 'I hope, Colonel, you realize that I don't have the authority to turn the weapons over to you or anyone else. Nor am I in a position to open negotiations concerning their control. This is a matter that must be taken up between our governments through the proper channels.'

Without a pause, Haas responded and Maier translated. 'You do not seem to understand, General. I am not here to negotiate. Nor am I here to ask you to turn those weapons over. I am merely asking you to have your people step aside and relinquish control over something that I am prepared to take by force of arms.'

Lowery was about to shout that Haas wouldn't dare, but then thought better. This was simply not the kind of thing that the Germans would try to bluff their way through. If Haas was standing there defiantly, then he had to be in a position to fulfill his threat.

Lowery was still pondering how best to respond when the operations officer pushed his way between Maier and Haas. 'Just who in the hell do you think you are, mister, coming in here and making that kind of demand? Who do you think you're dealing with? Your people, if they're out there, will be cut to ribbons if they even think about stepping foot on this base.'

Haas stomped his boots, shaking off more mud and snow onto the floor, then gave the operations officer a knowing smile before he answered. Maier, now behind the operations officer, translated over the officer's shoulder. 'Colonel Haas asks me to point out that he, like his men, had absolutely no problem making their way onto this base.' Then, turning back to Lowery, the smile gone from his face, Haas looked at his watch before he spoke.

Lowery listened as Maier, now calmer, carefully provided his translation. 'You have, General, less than ten minutes in which to make your decision. After that, my men, already in their assault positions in and around the hangars, without the need for any further orders from me, will wipe out your entire guard and the reaction force. Even if you were to alert your people now to the danger, there is nothing that they could do to change their fates. We are, as you would say, locked, loaded, and on automatic pilot.'

Looking down at the puddle of mud and water on the floor and then into Haas's eyes, Lowery's heart began to sink. Suddenly, the image of the hangars and their contents flashed before his eyes. This was immediately followed by the vision of the rows and rows of coffins in Da Nang. Without realizing it, Lowery let out a soft moan as he let his six-foot-five frame sink back down into the chair behind him. No, he thought, he couldn't let that happen. There was simply no way that he could allow young airmen, his young airmen, to die for nothing. Looking up at the German parachute colonel, he knew he was beaten, for General Earl Lowery didn't have it in him to make the kind of command decision that would in effect be the death warrant for an untold number of soldiers and airmen.

Spinning about to face his desk, Lowery grabbed the phone, then paused. 'What's Harrison's number?' General Bret Harrison, U.S. Army and commander-in-chief, United States Europe Command, was Lowery's immediate commander for this operation.

Without needing to look, Lowery's aide rattled off the phone number.