The three industrialists sat in a plush room, smoke curling from cigars, their sharp suits immaculate, reflecting the wealth of a world still emerging from a previous conflict. The polished oak table between them bore half-drained crystal glasses. Outside, the rhythmic hum of a factory provided a comforting backdrop to their conversation.
Industrialist 1 (Herr Vogel):
“This little colonel, this… Hitler,” Vogel said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk, “He’s a blunt instrument, no? Useful for now, but not for long.“
Industrialist 2 (Herr Drexler):
“Ja,” Drexler nodded, adjusting his spectacles, “He speaks of a thousand-year Reich, but it’s all fantasy. His bluster may serve to stir the rabble, but it’s the banks, the factories, the resources that decide nations’ futures.” He flicked ash onto a silver tray. “Soon enough, France and England will see reason. They’re not fools. Versailles was a mistake, and they’ll realize it.“
Industrialist 3 (Herr Schmitt):
Schmitt chuckled, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Versailles was a chain around our necks, but chains can be broken—without tanks or bombs. All we need is time, patience. France and England will come to the table again. Hitler?” He shrugged. “He’s merely a distraction. Once they want peace badly enough, the little colonel will be irrelevant. We’ll be the ones standing tall.“
Vogel:
“Exactly. We’ll renegotiate. Versailles will crumble, just as that upstart’s grip on power will. Germany doesn’t need his chaos long-term. It needs industry, stability, and—above all—profit.” He leaned forward, his eyes glinting. “Soon, the world will tire of his noise, and when they do, we’ll be here, ready to pick up the pieces.“
Drexler:
“And the Führer?” Drexler smirked, savoring the word with sarcasm. “He’ll have served his purpose. A pawn that gets sacrificed for the real victory.“
Schmitt (laughing softly):
“By then, it’ll be over. The fool won’t even see it coming.“
The room fell silent for a moment, as Schmitt’s laughter lingered in the air. Vogel shifted in his chair, and Drexler’s smile thinned, both considering the unspoken risk—the small, unpredictable thread that was the “little colonel.”
Ah, a war. Let me adjust the dialogue accordingly.
The room was quiet now, the weight of what had been said hanging in the air. Drexler stubbed out his cigar, breaking the silence first.
Drexler (sternly):
“And what if the little colonel releases not just words, but war?” His voice was flat, his eyes hard. “A war could be the end of us, and everything we’ve built. France and England will not negotiate if he drags them into another conflict. They will destroy us.“
Vogel (smirking, though his confidence faltered slightly):
“War?” He waved a hand, though it was less casual now. “He’s not mad enough for that. He barks and threatens, but he knows— or at least, those around him know—that another war would tear this country apart.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “No, no, the Führer will push, but not too far. Not far enough to make the world bleed again.“
Schmitt (leaning forward, his smile fading):
“And if he does?” Schmitt’s tone was sharp, his earlier flippancy gone. “If this idiot actually provokes a war, Vogel, do you think we’re immune? You said it yourself—France and England will have no choice but to retaliate. And this time, it won’t just be trenches and treaties. It’ll be devastation, real devastation. Our factories will burn.“
Vogel (defensive, standing up from his chair):
“If he’s foolish enough to start a war, we’ll be long out of harm’s way. We have holdings outside Germany, interests abroad. We’ve made sure that no matter what happens, we will not be chained to this sinking ship if he sends it into the abyss.“
Drexler (shaking his head, voice calm but tense):
“You underestimate the madness of men like him. Hitler speaks of glory, of revenge, of Germany’s resurgence, but he doesn’t care about us—about industry, or economics, or reality. His pride could push him to war, and pride is blind to consequences.“
Schmitt (quietly, almost whispering):
“And if that happens, we won’t just be out of harm’s way, Vogel. We’ll be targets.“
Vogel (pausing, finally turning to face them):
“Targets? What do you mean?*”
Schmitt (coldly):
“If he pulls Europe into another war, the Allies won’t just be aiming at armies. They’ll be aiming at everything that supports the war effort. Factories, supply lines, resources—everything we’ve built. And when they strike, do you really think they’ll care whether we were the ones advocating for peace behind closed doors? No. They’ll level this country.*”
Drexler (nodding, eyes fixed on Vogel):
“And that means us. Our businesses. Our fortunes. Our lives. We may think ourselves immune because we’re the ones who fund the war machine, but when the bombs fall, it won’t matter. If the little colonel unleashes another war, this time there won’t be any pieces left for us to pick up. We’ll be buried under the rubble with him.“
Vogel (lowering himself back into his chair, now visibly shaken):
“You really think… you think he’s capable of that? Of risking it all, knowing what’s at stake?“
Schmitt (grimly):
“He doesn’t think like us. He doesn’t care about what’s at stake for us. He sees war as a chance for his delusions of empire. And if he drags us into one, we’re all at risk. This isn’t 1914. The next war will not end in trenches and treaties—it’ll end in ruins.“
Drexler (leaning forward, voice low):
“We need to be prepared. If war comes, we have to ensure that we’re not tied to his fate. We’ve survived crises before, but this time…” He let the sentence hang, the implication clear.
Vogel (after a long pause, voice hollow):
“So what do we do?“
Schmitt (smiling darkly, his old confidence returning):
“We make sure that if war does come, we’re already positioned to survive it. Cut ties where necessary, shift our assets, and, if need be, make sure the little colonel doesn’t drag us down with him. He’s a pawn, Vogel. If he becomes too dangerous, we find a way to remove him from the board.“
Drexler (nodding):
“Before he destroys us all.“
The room was heavy with the weight of the decision they had just made, unspoken but understood by all three men. The little colonel may have held Germany’s future in his hands, but their future? That was something they would control.