Bruno received an uninvited guest at his palace a few days after Erich’s call with Göring. The Generalfeldmarschall of the Luftstreitkräfte had gone out of his way to visit Tyrol and its Grand Prince.
And to Bruno there was only one reason for this unannounced visit. Göring sat before Bruno, in full regalia. The dress blues of the Luftstreitkräfte clung to his robust fra, adorned with the honors he had earned under conditions of battle and command throughout his career.
There was a noticeable difference between the man Bruno had known through the pages of history books in another life, and the man standing before him now. He was slimr, stronger, and more charismatic without his morphine addiction and over-eating.
The early adoption of the He-51, a design introduced years ahead of its natural ti, and its armored cockpit ensured that Göring never suffered the hip wound that had crippled his counterpart in another world.
It was a simple and unintended side effect of technological innovation in pursuit of strategic victory, but it had overarching changes to the man’s physique and character.
Without the chronic pain from his wound, Göring had never begun to abuse morphine, and as a result never began to compensate for his internal sha regarding his addiction with delusional trappings of grandeur, flamboyant uniforms, and way too much food and beer that was healthy.
As a result, he had erged as a man of pure aristocratic discipline. His fra was not heavyset with a beer gut, but chiseled like an Olympic athlete. Even now, standing before Bruno who was a decade older but paradoxically looked the sa age. Bruno could tell that the man would be formidable in the trenches had that style of warfare not largely gone extinct with chanization.
Göring bowed with respect before Bruno, before taking his seat.
"Herr Reichsmarschall. It is an honor to stand before you in your own ho...."
Bruno smiled briefly before setting the folder he was reading just before Göring’s intrusion upon his desk.
"There is no need for such formalities, not now. I am retired, Hermann. You don’t need to announce the reason for your visit. I already know... Your concerns about the Swiss Border are valid, but believe , its being handled appropriately. The Border Guard has been deployed in sufficient numbers to ensure that none of the internal chaos of our neighbors spills its way into the fatherland. And the Reich’s various intelligence agencies are operating behind the scenes to direct it towards a favorable outco."
Bruno could see the frustration flicker behind Göring’s eyes, despite the man keeping his composure flawlessly.
"Then, I suppose I wasted a visit.... It would have been nice if I had been notified in advance."
Bruno smirked when he heard this response, standing up and shaking Göring’s hand as he led the man out of his door.
"I would hardly call it a waste to visit the Alps, my old friend. Even under such circumstance. And need I point out that your frustration goes both ways? If you had simply bothered to give a call, or even the Director of the KMA, you would have rightly been inford. But I admire your resolve. And keep the 3rd on standby for deploynt. If we do need to use decisive force at any point, there’s no one better suited to the task."
Hermann smiled upon hearing Bruno’s response; it was well-crafted, and Bruno had a point. It was never a waste to visit the Alps and admire their beauty. Especially not with how quickly transit between them and Berlin had beco.
As for the 3rd Fallschirm-Panzergrenadiere Division "Falke" Göring knew all too well their capability. During the Second World War, he had served as the head of the Luftstreitkräfte.
And while he hadn’t been given Operational Command over the entirety of the European or Pacific theaters. He had been deeply embedded behind the scenes, overseeing aerial and airborne operations across the globe and their integration with ground and mariti-based assets.
"You must be very proud of your grandson, Bruno. I fear one day he will most certainly eclipse ...."
Bruno smiled as he walked Göring out of his office towards the front door of his palace.
"I’m sure he will eclipse us all one day... But not today, my friend... Not today... Enjoy your stay in Tirol; I’m sure soon enough whatever is happening in Helvetia will require your attention."
Helvetia... Bruno was already referring to Switzerland by an ancient na. The very invocation caused Göring to smirk and shake his head in disbelief.
"Sotis I wonder whether or not you’re gifted beyond even myself, or if you made so kind of a Faustian bargain for future knowledge. Either way, you never cease to impress with your ability to accomplish what you set your mind to. I’m sure we will be seeing each other soon enough. Congratulations on your retirent and your upcoming appointnt, Chancellor...."
Bruno bade farewell to Göring, and it was only when he shut the door behind him that the words hit him with so degree of reality.
Chancellor... Bruno had never once thought in this life he would ever seek political office. But when the sword was finally laid to rest, there was another battlefield entirely that needed his attention.
Soon he would not be managing campaigns and the logistics that fueled them. But instead, he would be forced to reconcile disputes in the Reichstag and assure that the politics behind the military continued to support his vision.
Whereas before he relied on wealth and political connections through his family to handle these things on his behalf. Now he would finally be stepping into the belly of the beast. If war had been his theater that would determine whether or not he could save the soul of the Reich.
Politics would be the theater where he determined whether or not he would truly condemn himself. Regardless, Bruno let the thought sit for a minute, but no longer. There was no point in worrying about what might yet co his way. Instead, he would et it the sa way he had t every challenge in his life.
Swiftly, ruthlessly, and decisively.
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