“Perhaps you are bearing orders of that nature for me, Herr Generalmajor?” von Lutzenberger asked.
“No,” von Deitzberg said. “I don’t quite understand the question.”
“The question is one of authority, Herr Generalmajor,” von Lutzenberger said. “May I presume, then, Friedrich, in the absence of orders to the contrary, that I remain the Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary of the Führer of the German Reich to the Republic of Argentina?”
“Of course,” von Löwzer said. “There never has been any question of that.”
“Then perhaps you would be good enough, Friedrich, to tell the Herr Generalmajor that as the ambassador here, I exercise, in the name of the Führer, German authority in all things.”
“I’m sure von Deitzberg understands that,” von Löwzer said.
“I come here with the authority of the Foreign Minister, Herr Ambassador,” von Deitzberg challenged.
“What you have, Herr Generalmajor, is the Foreign Minister’s authority to conduct an investigation under my authority as the Führer’s representative in Argentina. You have no more right to question my authority than you do to question that of the Führer. If there is any question in your mind about that, I suggest we can get clarification from Berlin in twenty-four hours or so.”
Von Deitzberg backed down. “I had no intention of questioning your authority, Herr Ambassador,” he said.
“I did not have that feeling a few moments ago.”
“The plan to repatriate the Graf Spee officers is—was—a state secret of the highest order, Manfred,” von Löwzer said, obviously pouring oil on the troubled waters. “Certainly, you can understand von Deitzberg’s surprise that you felt you had to compromise it.”
“I thought perhaps the Herr Generalmajor,” Von Lutzenberger said, looking directly at von Deitzberg, “would consider that until the Argentine Bureau of Internal Security found an answer satisfactory to them for our presence at Samborombón Bay, they would keep looking. Of ‘the three state secrets of the highest order’ involved here, the Graf Spee officer repatriation was, in my judgment, the least important. If compromising that secret satisfied the curiosity of the BIS, then that price simply had to be paid.”
“Well, I can certainly agree with your reasoning,” von Löwzer said.
“You didn’t inform Berlin of your action,” von Deitzberg said.
That’s still a challenge, von Lutzenberger thought. But the arrogance factor has been reduced by—what? Say three-quarters?
“I decided that it could wait until you and von Löwzer got here.”
“I hope the Herr Ambassador will understand how much of a fish out of water someone like me is in the world of diplomacy,” von Deitzberg said.
That’s even getting close to an apology.
“As a soldier, you mean?” von Lutzenberger asked.
“Precisely.”
You’re not a soldier. You’re Himmler’s adjutant.
“Let me try an analogy,” von Lutzenberger said. “I’ve often thought that an ambassador is something like a just-graduated lieutenant taking command of his first platoon in combat. He doesn’t know where he is, or what his captain wants him to do with all the authority he’s suddenly been given. Yet he has to do something, and can only hope that what he does is the right thing.”
“Very well put, I would say,” von Deitzberg said.
“And about the first thing he learns is that if he compromises his authority, he never gets it back,” von Lutzenberger added.
“Well, from my own experience, I can certainly agree with that,” von Deitzberg said.
“Now, there are some advantages to having authority, either as a young lieutenant, or an ambassador,” von Lutzenberger said seriously. “And high among them is being able to meet nature’s call without asking for permission. If you gentlemen will excuse me for a few minutes?”
It took both von Deitzberg and von Löwzer a few seconds to take his meaning. By then, von Lutzenberger was almost out of his office. Then both laughed at von Lutzenberger’s sense of humor. Von Deitzberg’s laugh sounded a little forced, and von Löwzer’s a little relieved.
Von Lutzenberger entered the men’s room, made sure it was empty, then locked the door. He went into a stall, carefully raised the seat, bent over it, and vomited. When he stood up he held his hands out in front of him. They were trembling, and it took him some time to will them to be still.
It is always a mistake to underestimate your enemy, but I think I have put that Nazi bastard in his place.
Von Lutzenberger washed his hands, then wiped his face with a cold water-soaked towel. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment, then walked back to his office.