“Once Saint Heinrich had decked out members in snazzy black uniforms, featuring lightning-bolt SS insignias and with the skull and crossbones—the Totenkopf—on their caps, Hitler immediately grew fond of them. And he authorized Himmler to enlarge the SS ‘perhaps to five thousand, or even ten thousand, men.’
“Himmler was swamped with volunteers, a great many of whom, he came to realize, were not exactly enamored of Der Führer—few understood even a fraction of what Hitler said in his hours-long tirades. They instead volunteered because there was a certain appeal to wearing a snazzy black uniform and being officially recognized as a member of the Übermenschen and thus superior to common folk.
“When that recruiting drive was over, forty thousand men filled the SS ranks, and that number quickly rose to one hundred thousand and then to two hundred thousand, where it stabilized for a while.
“Still with me, Helmut?”
“More or less, but it would be helpful if I knew where you’re headed with this narrative.”
“Kindly bear with me. Now, the next thing that happened, our first serious mistake, was when Adolf started to call himself Der Führer. We mocked him: The ‘leader’ of what? A small, unimportant political party in Munich whose few members were social misfits and disgruntled ex-soldiers, with a sprinkling of lunatics thrown in? Ridiculous!
“And then it got worse. They renamed their party the National Socialist German Workers’ Party—NSDAP—and started referring to themselves as Nazis and came up with the swastika as their emblem. They also stopped referring to Germany as Germany, or even as the Fatherland, and started calling it the Thousand-Year Reich.
“And we thought that was funny, as absurd as Der Führer’s mustache. What delusions of grandeur! What nonsense!
“That was our mistake. Our grievous mistake. Hitler and Himmler were dead serious.”
“Define ‘our,’” the cardinal said.
“We Jews, of course. But also the Western democracies.”
“But not the Catholic Church?”
“I have unkind thoughts about what Holy Mother Church was up to during this period. And later.”
“Which you are going to share?”
“Helmut, there are many facets of the Church of Rome for which I have profound—both personal and professional—respect. With the possible exception of Mossad, which I am sure you know is the Zionist intelligence organization, Holy Mother Church has—is—the best intelligence organization the world has ever seen.”
“How kind of you to say so,” von Hassburger said, clearly sarcastic despite his smile. “And what unkind thoughts did you have about us during this period?”
“I was disgusted by, but not surprised at, Pacelli’s—Pius XII’s—behavior when Hitler started after the Jews. We Jews.”
“He did what he could, Mortimer.”
“That’s absolute bullshit, and you know it!” Cohen snapped. He glanced again at the others, then went on. “Unless you mean, Helmut, that he did what he could to benefit Holy Mother Church, in which case we agree. That’s what disgusted me.”
The cardinal’s face whitened. Veins on his temples grew and pulsed. Cronley thought von Hassburger was about to blurt out something in anger, but he didn’t.
Cohen wasn’t through.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, Helmut, but doesn’t Pius XII think that communism—at least the Soviet version of it—poses a greater threat to Holy Mother Church than anything else?”
“The Church faces many threats.”
“But which does Pius XII think is the greatest?”
“I really have no idea, but I’m certainly willing to agree that Soviet—communist—atheism is a threat.”
“And how much of a threat would you say the Church of Saint Heinrich the Divine poses to Rome?”
“We’re back to that nonsense, are we?”
“That’s the reason we’re having this little chat. Did you ever wonder, Helmut, why I kept you out of Wewelsburg Castle?”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Helmut. Didn’t your mother try to teach you that honesty is always the best policy?”