U.S. Embassy in London, July 1936
"You've got your assignment, Hogan. I'm counting on you to give me a thorough description of what's developing in Berlin. Keep your eyes and ears open. And above all, trust your instincts."
Ambassador Robert Worth Bingham was pacing back and forth across his lavish office in the U.S. Embassy in London as he spoke. His assistant attaché, Captain Robert E. Hogan, was itching to join him because moving always shook his thoughts loose. Instead, the young officer exercised restraint, standing attentively and listening. He would be on a train to Berlin in an hour, and the Ambassador had orders for him.
"Yes, Sir," Hogan said crisply. "Assess popular support in the event Hitler declares war. With the Olympic Games about to occur, energy should be very high in Berlin, Sir."
Bingham stopped and sized up the young Army Air Corps officer. Only six years out of West Point, Hogan had already distinguished himself. He'd graduated third in his class and would have placed higher if he hadn't needed his entire plebe year to tame a wild streak and stop racking up demerits.
"Indeed, Hogan. It's easy to make fun of the little man with his mustache and odd haircut, but you'll see for yourself that Hitler is a charismatic leader," the Ambassador said. He took off his spectacles and sighed wearily. "Washington isn't ready to hear it, but you and I know that another conflict on the scale of the Great War would be a threat to civilization. There is no time for any other thought except, What shall we do to be saved?"
Bingham's dire outlook had detractors, but Hogan had seen enough evidence to know the threat was real. Hitler had begun his clandestine re-armament push three years earlier; then, in 1935, a stunned Europe had learned that Germany had amassed 2,500 warplanes and 300,000 troops. Then Hitler introduced compulsory military conscription and declared that the army would be further enlarged to 550,000 men.
Hogan had arrived in London in April 1936, just a month after Hitler sent troops into the Rhineland, effectively shredding the Versailles Treaty. Since then, Hogan had been immersed in monitoring and analyzing Germany's re-militarization. All spring and summer, statesmen across Europe had been meeting to discuss the growing threat. Couriers were racing across the continent on trains, planes, and automobiles as telephone and telegraph wires and cables were constantly flashing diplomatic dispatches.
"The Olympic Games begin in two weeks, Hogan," Bingham said. "You should attend and observe. Use your command of the language to strike up conversations with ordinary Germans. Develop your understanding of how they're thinking." He paused. "Your German is excellent, Hogan," Bingham said.
"Yes, Sir," Hogan replied.
"…Despite that incident at the academy," Bingham continued, allowing himself a small grin.
Hogan winced. He'd felt pretty clever when he stood up and asked Major Fassbender how to say "Class is dismissed" in German. The fun part was marching out of the classroom on Fassbender's command while the rest of the class broke up laughing in an epidemic of behavior unbecoming a cadet.
The not-so-fun part was the "tour" that was his reward for this prank, as it meant kitting himself out with bayonet, rifle, and cartridge box on a free Saturday afternoon for two hours of continuous marching over the stones of the barracks area. Earning the rest of the class a demerit apiece was not much fun either.
"I learned some things about discipline after that, Sir," Hogan allowed.
"Good. See to it that you maintain a rigorous focus, Hogan," Bingham said. "But don't hesitate to use your creativity if it enables you to gain access to German civilians. I can't overstress how important it is for us to understand their willingness to embrace Hitler." He checked his watch. "You'd best get on your way, young man. Safe travels. And Hogan?"
"Yes, Mr. Ambassador?"
"Pay attention to everything," Bingham said, with a pleading undertone. "I hate to think we'll be back at war with the Germans, but I am not optimistic. Hitler has demonstrated a tremendous ability to articulate the fears and prejudices of the German people. He didn't create these thoughts—he has simply tapped into what already existed. These are perilous times. Understanding the German people is critical."
"Sir, yes, Sir," Hogan said, snapping off a smart salute. He marched out of the office, thinking about the exciting work he'd had the privilege to do in the six years since he graduated from the academy. Advanced pilot training. Assignments in Hawaii, Panama, and the Philippines. He knew he was on a fast track for advancement. There were jobs he could be doing right now that would accelerate his chances of appearing before the officer selection board to make Major.
And there were few things less politically popular in Washington than talk of another Great War.
This situation in Germany, though—this was worth rolling up his sleeves for. Another war with Germany might be years away. If the fates were kind, it might not come at all. But it had already started for Captain Robert E. Hogan.
NOTE: Robert Worth Bingham was U.S. Ambassador to Great Britain from 1933 to 1937. He pushed for stronger ties with Britain and decried the rise of Nazism. These views were unpopular at home. The next Ambassador, Joseph Kennedy, advocated isolation and appeasement like British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, who declared "Peace in Our Time" after signing a peace treaty with Hitler in September 1938.
I wrote about Hogan's work with Bingham in my story A Minor Problem (Chapter 20) and wanted to expand on it. "There is no time for any other thought…" is a direct quote from Bingham.