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  It is characteristic of Hitler that he gave this far-reaching authority to Goering without first consulting Schacht, who was merely informed a few days in advance that a new economic program was to be announced. He was expected to run his ministry alongside Goering’s new department, which at once began to accumulate a large staff of officials and to increase the administrative complications involved in a controlled economy. It was inevitable that Schacht and Goering, who had formerly been on terms of friendship, should soon begin to differ. To Schacht the Four-Year Plan seemed little but a crude and unprofessional hastening of the measures he had himself taken. In his later writings he mentions as instances the extraction of benzine from coal and the extension of mining operations and of the whaling fleet; Goering simply took over Schacht’s plans and inflated them. At the same time he mounted the platform and turned the rough lessons he had learned about economics into popular speech, hammering the message home with the blows of patriotism. “Never again must a foreign hand grip us by the throat . . . Our plan must succeed—say that over and over to yourselves as you get up in the morning . . . I shall suppress all parasites . . . hoarders will be treated as swindlers . . . A great age demands a great nation.” The audience filling the Deutschlandhalle on October 28 listened to the familiar voice vibrating through the loudspeakers, and the microphone on the platform carried the words throughout the land in a broadcast to the German people. Much was made in the press of the public response to this mighty harangue, and the sentimental stories grew of the party man who collected 637 wedding rings from the fingers of his comrades to help the nation and of the little girl who sent her golden bracelet as a gift to Goering. Later he himself stood in the streets of Berlin laughing and shaking a collection box while people pressed around him to push foreign coins into the slot.

  Goering had already announced his first labor decree on October 24, ordering additional labor for harvesting vegetable crops. On November 9 further decrees were issued to recruit labor for the rearmament program. As economic dictator of Germany, Goering gloried in his amateur status. “I do not acknowledge the sanctity of any economic law,” he said. “Economy must always be the servant of the nation . . . I have never been a director or on a board of directors and never shall be. Neither am I an agriculturist. Except for a few flower pots on the balcony I have never cultivated anything. But I am ready with all my heart and soul, and with firm belief in the greatness of the German nation, to devote all my energies to this mighty task.”

  In December Goering held a conference of industrialists, and Schacht was shocked to hear him invite his audience to bring foreign bills of exchange into the country by any method, legal or illegal, and urge industry to produce whether it made a profit or a loss. Schacht claims that he responded by telling a similar audience a few weeks later that evasions of the laws of exchange were still punishable as far as he was concerned, and that to produce at a loss would be to “consume the very life substance of the German people.” When Goering complained of this, Schacht refused to change his attitude, so Goering took over the responsibility for placing all orders for armaments from Schacht’s ministry .12 Having established his department, he placed his old friend Pilli Koerner in charge of it with the rank of Secretary of State. This was to prove a grave error; Koerner was quite incompetent to deal with the intricate problems of industry, of which he had no understanding whatsoever.

  In foreign affairs, the second six months of 1936 saw the gradual closing of the gap between Germany and Italy. Mussolini had approved the “gentleman’s agreement” negotiated by Papen with Dr. Kurt von Schuschnigg, successor to Dollfuss as Federal Chancellor of Austria, and signed in July; in this Hitler had recognized the sovereignty of Austria in exchange for the right of the Austrian Nazis to share political responsibility in the State—an important step toward the future Anschluss. Mussolini’s open intervention in Spain hardened Britain against Italy, while British sponsorship of sanctions in the League Assembly hardened Mussolini against Britain. By November the Duce was using the term “axis” in reference to Italy’s relations with Germany and was losing interest in giving active support to the independence of Austria, where Papen was slowly but successfully preparing the way for the Anschluss. Ribbentrop was appointed ambassador to Britain to keep relations with Britain as favorable as could be, and in May 1937 Neville Chamberlain became British Prime Minister, with Lord Halifax as his Foreign Secretary.

  In January 1937 Goering went to Italy to exercise what influence he could on Mussolini, who had just signed what Papen would have called a “gentleman’s agreement” with Britain, in which both countries guaranteed to maintain the freedom of the Mediterranean. On the other hand, Mussolini was equally aware of Ribbentrop’s attempts to win support in Britain for Germany’s territorial ambitions. At the beginning of 1937 Hitler’s attitude to Austria still remained the most serious stumbling block in the path of friendship between the two dictators.

  Goering traveled by train from Berlin to Rome with Count Massimo Magistrati, a senior official on the staff of the Italian embassy and the brother-in-law of Count Galeazzo Ciano, the Italian Foreign Minister. Goering was in the habit of talking against Britain to Magistrati, and, like Hitler, he was annoyed about the naval agreement. On the train he said that Italy and Germany must prepare for the final clash with Britain; militarily speaking, Germany would be ready for this in three years; he explained that discussion of the Austrian problem was the principal reason for his journey, and that Italy need never fear to have a common frontier with Germany. “In any case,” Goering added as the train neared Rome, “Germany will indulge in no surprises, and whatever decision she makes on questions so vital to her as those of Austria, Danzig or Memel will be preceded by understandings with Italy.” When Mussolini received the report of this conversation, he expressed anger that Goering should think he feared having the Germans at the Brenner.13

  Goering took Schmidt with him to Italy to interpret, and, after some discussions with Count Ciano on mutual aid to Franco, they went in the afternoon of January 15 to the Palazzo Venezia to meet Mussolini. Goering and the chef de protocol, standing stomach to stomach, filled the only lift available, and Schmidt had to run up the stairs and round the rising carriage to be ready to meet his chief at the upper door. They passed along passages hung with armor, through the Hall of the Fascist High Council with its furnishings covered in dark-blue velvet, into an anteroom where Ciano was waiting for them, ready to take them to Mussolini’s large but sparsely furnished study, with its marble floor and large globe of the world. Mussolini rose in the distance and walked the full length of the room to greet them. He gave Goering the Fascist salute, and they sat down.

  They spoke of Spain, the bravery of the Spaniards and their poor tactics, and the unofficial, “voluntary” help Italy and Germany were giving to Franco. Mussolini was very guarded in what he said. Goering, less guarded, boasted enthusiastically of the German transport planes that were carrying Franco’s Moroccan troops into Spain. “Franco has much to thank us for,” he added. “I hope he’ll remember it later.”

  When they turned to the discussion of Europe, the conversation went less well. Mussolini showed his anger about sanctions; Goering was blunt about the coming of the Anschluss in Austria. Mussolini, who understood and spoke some German, watched Goering closely while he talked, but he asked Schmidt to translate what Goering said into French and then shook his head vigorously, though he said nothing. He sat upright, short and squat, his brown eyes fixed on Goering; in most matters except Austria he expressed agreement in short, concise sentences with Hitler’s view of Europe as Goering explained it.

  Yet it was to gain ground on the Austrian question that was the principal reason for Goering’s visit. Ulrich von Hassell, the German ambassador in Rome, was particularly anxious that he should be reticent. When Goering had told him, “Italy should keep her hands off Austria and recognize her as a German sphere of interest so that even an Anschluss could be carried out if we so desi
red,” Hassell had replied that the Duce did indeed now recognize that a union of some sort was inevitable, but feared that Hitler’s ambitions would tempt him to expand further south than the Brenner frontier; he urged Goering to make the whole matter seem as long-term as possible and to assure Mussolini that he would be consulted before any action was taken. Goering was to see Mussolini again on January 23 after a brief trip to Capri; meanwhile in Rome he made no secret in various conversations he had that the Nazis were being persecuted in Austria.

  At the second of his talks with the Duce, on January 23, Goering urged Mussolini to use his influence with Schuschnigg to keep the Austrians “loyal” to the July agreement; he claimed that sinister international forces were using Austria to keep Italy and Germany apart. But there would be no surprise in the relationship between Germany and Austria, he added, remembering Hassell’s warning—unless, of course, there were any attempt to restore the Hapsburgs. Mussolini let this go, but warned Goering that his influence in Austria was confined to reassuring her of his respect for her independence. The Italians regarded the meeting as an unhappy one, and Goering had found in the visitors’ book in his hotel at Capri a scribbled note: “Non svastica in Mediterraneo!” Mussolini thought Goering “flashy and pretentious.”14

  On April 20 Goering, who was reported to be ill and on his way to southern Italy for a rest cure, once more left Berlin. He visited both Ciano and Mussolini in Rome on April 26 with the intention of discovering what had taken place between the Duce and Schuschnigg, who had met on April 22 in Venice. Mussolini had tried to explain to the Austrian Chancellor Italy’s need for understanding with Germany in spite of differences of outlook on many matters, including that of the independence of Austria, which could now, he said, be best maintained by friendship with Germany; the war in Spain and a possible visit of Mussolini were also reported to have been discussed. Goering paid a third visit to Italy, this time to Venice only, in May, when he also visited Bled, Yugoslavia, in an effort to improve Germany’s relations with that country and encourage an increase of trade between the two.15

  The coronation of King George VI in London on May 12 led to an embarrassing situation for Goering. When the Labor member of Parliament Ellen Wilkinson learned that Goering intended to represent Germany at the coronation, a ceremony of the kind in which he most enjoyed taking part, she made a savage attack on him and his “blood-stained boots” and demanded in the House of Commons assurances from the Foreign Office that he would never be allowed to insult the country with his presence.16 Ribbentrop sent a copy of the speech to Hitler with the recommendation that damage to German-British relations might result from Goering’s visit, and Hitler appointed General von Blomberg in his place. Goering was furious. He decided to make a private visit to London and arrived in a Junkers 52 at Croydon Airport; Ribbentrop met him there and drove him to the embassy, where the matter was explained to him bluntly and he was dissuaded from showing himself. Ribbentrop had managed to keep the visit secret from the press, and the following morning Goering, deeply humiliated, was driven to the airport and flown back to Germany. Only the British Foreign Office and the police knew of his visit.

  Goering’s informal contacts with the British were happier than this. The late Marquess of Londonderry, a former Air Secretary, was a frequent guest for shooting in the Schorfheide. Paul Schmidt often acted as their interpreter; he first went to Carinhall for this purpose in February 1936. Goering boasted then about the growing power of the German Air Force and was very open in discussing technical details. “If Germany and England stand together,” he would say, “there is no combination of powers in the whole world that can oppose us.” Sometimes Lord Londonderry would bring his wife and daughter, traveling in his private plane to Berlin. Schmidt noticed their friendly amusement when Goering put on his hunting clothes and strode along wielding his spear and blowing his horn to attract the bison. Hitler was in favor of these meetings, because they might lead to a better understanding with Britain. In the autumn of 1937, Londonderry attended the German Army maneuvers in Mecklenburg which Mussolini witnessed; afterward Papen was invited by Goering to join Londonderry and himself in a stag-and-bison shoot, and in the conversations round the fire at night Papen said the British should negotiate directly with Hitler and repudiate the last shackles of Versailles—advice that Chamberlain was to take. In October, Goering, wearing uniform and decorations, entertained the Duke and Duchess of Windsor at Carinhall; though formally dressed, he managed to demonstrate the massage apparatus he had recently installed in the basement gymnasium. In the attic he showed off his vast model railway, over which a toy airplane flew dropping little wooden bombs.17

  The ambassadors and senior members of the diplomatic corps in Berlin differed considerably in their attitude toward the Nazis. Their work was complicated by the rivalries among the Nazi leaders, for though Goering, Neurath (Hitler’s Foreign Minister until February 1938), and Ribbentrop (Neurath’s successor) all received their instructions from Hitler, their interests, emphases and mutual distaste for each other led to many differences in their statements of policy, and these in turn were subject to Hitler’s own sudden changes of front. Ambassador Dodd, who was in Berlin from 1933 to the end of 1937, was a democrat who hated the Nazis, but he was both inexperienced as a diplomat and out of touch with the Nazi leadership; he was a sick man, and unpopular with Sumner Welles, the powerful American Under-Secretary of State from 1937, but he had the ear of President Roosevelt. To him Goering was a man unfit to rule, and after 1935 he had no social relationship with him whatsoever. His high-spirited daughter Martha, however, enjoyed considerably the social life in Berlin and has written vivid and gossipy accounts of Goering. She admired Emmy, but criticized her husband for his morbid worship of Carin’s memory, and she found him boorish and unpleasant in company.

  During this period André François-Poncet was the French ambassador in Berlin. He was right-wing in politics, accepted the revival of German nationalism and made it his aim to establish friendship between France and Germany. He regarded Goering as the most approachable of the Nazis leadership, even though “he concealed badly enough that he had a special distaste for France.” Goering afforded him ironic amusement, especially on one occasion when he claimed, the ambassador wrote later, that if Hitler “disappeared . . . Goering would be his successor.” He noted that Goering periodically purged off his weight and then put it on again, and he knew that he still underwent periodic cures for his tendency to morphine. But François-Poncet also recognized Goering’s quick and supple intelligence. He was less amused when Goering in his presence demonstrated his model railway to a group of guests by showing a bombing attack on the replica of a French train. The ambassador referred to “ses yeux clairs, froids, dont l’expression est dure et inquiétante”; his successor, Robert Coulondre, who became ambassador in November 1938, thought Goering’s eyes “obliques.”18

  The rumors about Goering’s drug addiction were still current in Berlin, but he was naive enough, according at least to Diels, to believe that once the documentary evidence of his case in Sweden had been procured by his agents and safely put in his hands, he had uprooted and destroyed all memory and record of these past troubles. The cure in Sweden, however, had not proved permanent, and every year he underwent, in the strictest isolation, an intensified treatment administered by Professor Hubert Kahle, who had devised a special method for the abrupt withdrawal of narcotics which had had a very high percentage of success since he began it in 1921. Many of the patients at his sanatorium near Cologne were airmen who for one reason or another had become addicts.

  The drug addict’s disposition was described by Professor Kahle as a condition in which the nervous system becomes greatly excited and there are variations in pulse and breathing, an excessive activity of certain glands and an outpouring of vital energy. The use of drugs removes these symptoms and brings the addict a temporary state of calm, which is really an artificial form of subjection of his nervous and glandular troubles. If a
man addicted to drugs is deprived of them, he suffers the most acute withdrawal reactions, such as nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, acceleration of pulse and breathing, salivation, and pains in his limbs. It is difficult for him to sleep without soporifics. The basis of Kahle’s cure was to remove the dangers and the pains of this condition of excitement, calming the nervous system by a form of treatment that introduced a state of balance within it. To achieve this state of calm the patient was given a complex dosage of secret prescriptions which put him into a twilight sleep. During this time the toxic effects of the original drug were removed from his system and he should wake feeling free from any desire for his previous addiction.

  This was the treatment Goering underwent, but he was unfortunate in that the cure for him did not remain permanent. Every so often, about once a year, he would either attend the professor’s clinic or Kahle would himself come to Carinhall, where Goering would shut himself away for treatment in one of the chalets on the estate. This intensified treatment began with drinking a brandy glass of the preparation brought by Kahle, which sent Goering into a deep sleep lasting some twenty-four hours, during which he sweated continuously. When at length he woke, he had to repeat the dose, sleeping and sweating virtually without nourishment while Kropp attended him and wiped the sweat from his body during the period needed for the cure. In order to control the revival of the rumors about his addiction, Goering actually attended the performance of an opera immediately after one of these drastic treatments because he had heard there was gossip that he was at the professor’s sanatorium. Kropp, who went with him to the theater, had to hold him up from behind when he rose to acknowledge the cheers of the audience.