It was worth noting that before Hitler, China had enjoyed a solid relationship with Germany for years. Their diplomatic ties had gone back to the early 1920s, when Germany, a defeated country, was stripped of resources and lost consular jurisdiction in China, in accordance with the Treaty of Versailles. But his government had been gracious and cultivated a close partnership with Germany, providing them with raw materials to help them recover. In return, China received military modernization from Germany. Many elite Chinese politicians sent their sons to Berlin for military training, including his party’s president, Chiang Kai-shek.
Fengshan rubbed his forehead. He thought of Adolf Eichmann, who had mistaken him for the Japanese consul general. All signs pointed to a strengthening bond between Japan and Germany and a deteriorating future for China and Germany. This was a new reality that they must face: the age of China as Germany’s partner was ending. “Ambassador Chen, what’s your order?”
“Do not let your emotion interfere with your judgment, Fengshan. The incident with your wife is unfortunate, yet for our country’s best interest, I suggest forgetting it. Our relationship with Germany is tenuous, but to lose an ally when our country is under attack is a risk we can’t afford. We need Germany’s sophisticated weapons to fight the Japanese. Without the weapons, we cannot win the war. Germany is the only country that can help us.”
This was true. The British and the French had turned a deaf ear to them, and the Americans had the Neutrality Act in place, effectively prohibiting them from selling weaponry to any country at war. If Ambassador Chen’s plan to win the funds from the League of Nations succeeded, then the ambassador would use his resources to purchase rifles, bullets, tanks, and a squadron of Luftwaffe, armaments his government desperately needed.
The situation in China was dire. His government was bankrupt, and the Nationalists’ antiquated tanks and guns were no match for the sophisticated weaponry the Japanese possessed. In the past nine months, Japan had attacked many important cities on China’s east coast, such as Qingdao and Shanghai, slaughtered countless people in the capital, Nanjing, and captured the city. The entire Nationalist government had retreated to Wuhan, with the Japanese bombers and tanks and cavalries chasing closely behind, threatening to annihilate them all.
“Ambassador Chen, how may I assist you?”
“Fengshan, you’re aware I have submitted a request for a loan from the League of Nations; I was notified that to grant the funds, the League must first convene a meeting. But the British and the French have repeatedly ignored me. I’m looking at other channels, the Americans, for instance. They wield a huge amount of influence over the diplomats, and I’m hoping they’d help put in a good word for us in front of the League. I have an important mission for you.”
Created after the Great War, the League of Nations had deemed war a crime to humanity. To prevent future conflicts, it passed twenty-six articles restricting armaments, threatening offenders with a punishment of economic sanction, arbitration, and even joint military actions by all members. When Japan, a council member, failed to uphold the principle of the League by attacking China’s Manchuria during the first Sino-Japanese War, the League deemed it a violation, and Japan left the League. Consequently, the League was unable to take further actions to penalize Japan.
“Anything, Ambassador Chen.”
“Are you on good terms with the American consul general in Vienna?”
“I believe so.” Fengshan had met Mr. Wiley, the previous chargé d’affaires of the American legation, now the consul general of the American consulate, at a party and discussed China’s critical situation with him. The consul had listened. A man in his forties, he had the unruffled manner of a well-trained diplomat and exuded a certain amicable air.
“Good. Will you ask the consul general to help arrange a meeting between me and his superior, Ambassador Wilson, in Berlin? The American ambassador has just presented his credentials, and I was told that his schedule is full for the next six months. But if his consul general speaks on our behalf, the ambassador might agree to a meeting. Once I gain an audience, I’ll reason with him and persuade him to propose to the League to hold a meeting about the loan.”
“I’ll call him right away.”
“The meeting with Ambassador Wilson must happen expeditiously, Fengshan. In a month, the Japanese could decimate the entire population in South China. We need the loan from the League desperately.” The ambassador hung up the phone.
Fengshan looked at his watch. It was about nine. The American consulate might have opened. He dialed the number. The secretary indicated Consul General Wiley was not in the office yet.
When Fengshan put down the phone, it rang again.
Captain Heine’s smooth voice came through the receiver, asking him whether Grace had returned safely home.
Fengshan thanked him profusely, despite his reserved opinion of the captain. They had not exactly been friends, unlike him and Mr. Rosenburg. The captain was a fastidious man and a policeman who appeared to retain traditional Viennese pride and values. But he had turned in his baton that had been used to curb the Nazi violence and put on the armband with the swastika after the Anschluss, like much of the Viennese police force who had once sworn their oath to protect an independent Austria. Now that Austria was part of Germany, Captain Heine had become a member of the Geheime Staatspolizei, the Gestapo.
But had it not been for the captain, Fengshan would never have known Grace was detained or where to look for her.
“Don’t mention it, Herr Consul General. I look forward to your speech at the club.”
The captain’s interest in his event was yet another surprise—as far as he knew, the captain was only attached to two things: wine and women. Nonetheless, Fengshan thanked him again, hung up the phone, and looked at his watch. Four hours to the event. He had time. He rubbed his forehead, formulating his plans. His day was just beginning, and he already had his hands full. Opera tickets for Grace, Mr. Rosenburg’s phone call, Mr. Wiley, and the event. He would tend to them all, meticulously, in the order of urgency, gravity, and practicality.
The doorbell of the consulate buzzed. He went into the lobby, opened the heavy oak door, and greeted his staff in fluent German and Chinese.
It still amazed him that he was the consul general, working in Vienna, a city resplendent with stately fountains, palatial theaters, vast squares, and towering statues. A son of impoverished peasants, Fengshan had grown up fatherless, raised by an illiterate mother who couldn’t read or write her name and had wept at their empty hovel without a kitchen, unable to keep him fed. Barefoot and hungry, he had resolved to walk for miles each morning to a school hosted by Norwegian Lutheran missionaries with blue eyes and golden hair. They offered him free education and bowls of rice, and he sat on the bench listening raptly to the story of Jesus’s sacrifice and recited, “Mens sana in corpore sano.”
After he graduated from the missionary school, he entered college and took it as his responsibility to provide for his mother and sister by teaching at a high school during his free time. He wanted to build a secure future for his family, and he understood this acutely: as a man of humble birth, he must work diligently, with blood, sweat, intelligence, and fortitude, in order to achieve success. By chance, he heard the government was sponsoring two students for advanced education in Munich, Germany, a rare opportunity to study abroad, and the qualified students would be chosen from a state exam. Aware that the selection was highly competitive and that he must compete with five thousand well-off students nationwide, Fengshan came home from work, lit the late candles and studied until three o’clock in the morning for six months. He clinched the number one spot on the exam and became one of only two students from all of China to attend the University of Munich, where he received his PhD in political economics.