A Higher Call

by Adam Makos

Inside Goering’s home, where the Reichsmarschall had once smoked his tall pipe and paraded in togas and a hunter’s lederhosen, Goering supervised the removal of his art collection. His men were whisking priceless paintings out the door and ushering them to a bunker in the forest. Galland had expected Goering to be foaming or sinister. Instead, the Reichsmarschall struck him as “deeply depressed.” Goering received Galland with civility. He asked with genuine interest about JV-44’s progress. Galland told Goering that two days prior the unit had launched its most jets—fifteen—on one mission. They had scored their most victories that day, shooting down three B-26 medium bombers and damaging seven others. Galland reluctantly told Goering about Steinhoff’s crash. Goering showed traces of sympathy. He told Galland why he had summoned him. He wished to acknowledge that he had been wrong. He admitted that Galland had been right about the 262 when he said it belonged with the fighter pilots, not the bomber pilots. Then Galland’s greatest enemy said, “I envy you, Galland, for going into action. I wish I were a few years younger and less bulky. If I were, I would gladly put myself under your command.”10 Galland departed Goering’s chalet smirking, eager to tell Luetzow that even though the war was lost, the Man of Ice and the Mutineers had won a battle.