The German General Staff met for breakfast in a conference room at the Hotel Adlon just before 7:30. Karl von Scheider mopped sweat from his forehead and turned to the attending generals - Bernhart Bruner and Hans von Katz. Tiny was close by. Male aides stood and chatted in a small group, occasionally glancing at the three female secretaries who talked to each other a few meters away. Everyone was waiting for coffee and appetizers.

A middle-aged man in waiter's uniform stepped almost shyly to the generals and looked at Karl.

"Herr General, I beg your pardon but no coffee is available this morning."

"The Adlon has been reliable for coffee up to now. What happened?"

"A small fire, electrical. What coffee didn't get burned was ruined by smoke and water."

"Damn! You'd think drunk Soviets were already here." Karl knew that no bomb would demolish the Adlon. With vodka-swilling pyromaniacs from the East no bomb would be needed.

"The kitchen is otherwise fine and appetizers will come soon, followed by breakfast."

"Thank you," Karl said absently. Here was a departure from his first time. A disturbing thought entered his mind: the knowledge of his 99 years might be gold now but turn to silver, bronze and finally lead as this second world around him diverged from the first. And maybe the Adlon wouldn't be that safe over the next ten months.

A few more aides were supposed to come but Karl decided not to wait.

"Gentlemen and ladies, your undivided attention is essential this morning. Germany has entered her watershed time. The outcome of momentous events to come very soon will decide whether or not Germany remains free of foreign troops."

"First to come, but not first priority, is the invasion of France. Rommel wants troops to hurry to the shoreline when our enemies land. Von Rundstedt favours keeping mobile reserves in place until we are sure of where the main strike will be."

Karl felt his gorge rise. He didn't want any more enemy troops in Fortress Europa, but the Western Allies had proven themselves much the lesser evil. With Rommel's way some or with extreme good luck all of the enemy bridgeheads at Normandy might fail. What then? Enemy airpower, restive Frenchmen and other coasts to watch. Many American soldiers would take a Mediterranean cruise in August anyway, and not for fun. In Italy the front would continue its slow advance. The West, although thorny, would be weaker. The East would not.

The prospect of Normandy landings succeeding again was unpalatable but a better alternative to the poison of bear dung which would cover more of Germany, or perhaps all, with a weakened Western alliance.

"I support von Rundstedt's plan. He may be a cranky old fart…"

There were scattered, nervous chuckles. Karl had never used vulgar language at a meeting. But von Rundstedt would be quite a scold on July 1. Make peace, you fools, what else can you do?

"…but his plan is best. There may be some, perhaps many landings at Normandy, but the main force will come to Pas de Calais. Remember our great E-boat victory last April 28."

Two ships sunk and some 800 sailors killed, although few Americans would know about it any time soon. For those few who did know…

"The longer the distance of water to be crossed, the more the enemy commander chews his nails. Pas de Calais it shall be, people."

"Now to the opposite side of the compass, the much more critical side…"

Before he could go on, busboys arrived with sumptuous trays of breakfast: eggs, sausage, fish, cheese, bakery products, jam, marmalade and honey. The Adlon was still a place where one could, with at least some of its kitchen output, go back in time to the pre-ersatz era.

Food.

Karl suddenly found himself thinking of the immediate postwar era, when food would be scarce. German civilians would suffer, and imprisoned soldiers too. The Americans would have so many prisoners to manage that they would wash their hands of the Geneva Convention by declaring their captives Disarmed Enemy Combatants rather than Prisoners of War. Many, many a good German soldier would die little more than skin and bone in an American concentration camp.

Perhaps something could be done, starting today. Keeping Atlantic and Mediterranean ports intact or at least in condition to be quickly repaired would definitely be in a better future interest for Germany.

"People, listen to me. You may disregard the usual etiquette because important work must begin almost at once. You have fifteen minutes to eat." Karl turned to his aide. "Tiny, you are to arrange a plane to Cherbourg where we will speak to the garrison commander. Go now, you can afford to skip a meal." Karl could see an unenthusiastic Ja, Herr General coming. He added, "Trudi Langer will accompany us to Cherbourg."

"Langer is passable but..."

"My dear Tiny, have you noticed that Trudi Langer looks like she stepped out of a Rubens masterwork?"

"Jawohl, Herr General!" Tiny marched out of the room.

Karl felt his head rock. It was not a true dizzy spell but too close for comfort. Such were the wild swings of his worry compass.

Three men, two of them majors and the other a captain, entered the conference room. Karl said, "Gentlemen, you're late! To the Russian Front with you!"

The stockier major, Heintzelmann, smiled faintly, undoubtedly thinking this was a joke. The other two were blank-faced except for their wide eyes.

"Not as punishment but necessity."

Heintzelmann took his turn of being wide-eyed.

"In two weeks," Karl said, "the Soviet Union will launch its greatest offensive so far. Not in the south, as our intelligence has been led to believe up to now, but in the center. They have such force of numbers with such improved weapons that the possibility of Army Group Center being shattered is high. To minimize this likelihood, communications between various branches of the armed services must improve. Captain Metzler, you are to achieve that goal."

After Metzler acknowledged the order, Karl went on. "Major Reize, you just became a train robber."

Laughter, light with nervousness, showered the room. Karl guessed what everyone was thinking: he wasn't himself. I'm more than myself.

"Herr General?" Reize said, blushing.

"There is too much rolling stock at purposes that do not aid our fighting forces. This has especially being going on since 1942. Commandeer more trains and if their cars have crowds of people who are without the usual comforts…"

Several men laughed knowingly.

"…throw them out and let them fend for themselves."

"Reichsführer Himmler won't allow this," Reize said.

"Let others worry about the Reichsführer. Get those trains in service of the Wehrmacht."

"Any Gauleiter and Reichskommissar in an area where we take trains will also complain," Heintzelmann said.

"There's your job," Karl said. "Fielding the complaints. Negotiating with the leaders, right up to the Reichsführer."

General Bruner said, "My dear Karl, you seem to be going beyond the purpose of the General Staff. To analzye the orders of the Führer, advise him, let him make any changes or new orders, then relay his orders to the military. We cannot take our own initiative."

"At the highest level of emergency which exists now, we can and must. Everything I've told you this morning will if promptly implemented uphold orders which the Führer has issued over the years. Now, gentlemen, you have your work and I have business in Cherbourg."