If those from the West had come marching, he would have gladly given himself over to them. They would have insisted he stand trial, and spent years in prosecuting the effort, during which time he would have found other allies, generated other sympathies, and perhaps penned a sequel to his earlier work: Mein Kampf.

Adolph nods to himself. Paranoia. That’s what has done him in. Not military incompetence. Not his natural ability for authority. Not the fact that he tried to eliminate the Jews from the face of the earth. After all, he was simply following the example set by Stalin. But the paranoia; the fear and inability to place his trust in his subordinates since the day the Desert Fox had orchestrated an assassination attempt against him. Then again, that was just last year, and many of his foolish decisions had come prior to that.

Things seemed to be going so well, even up until two weeks ago when the American president had died. He believed it was a sign. Despite the fact that his armies had been pushed back to within Germany’s borders, he was certain the death of Roosevelt would dishearten the Americans. And for all he knew, maybe it had. But it did not dishearten the Russians.

Here again, he is filled with rage at the very thought of Russian boots entering his homeland.

Stalin was supposed to have been the evil one. Stalin had killed far more than Adolph could have hoped to accomplish. Some estimates put the figure at 40 million plus. The world was already lodging protests against the Soviet dictator even before the outbreak of hostilities in Europe.

Adolph chuckles to himself. ‘Hostilities in Europe’. That’s what the American Press had called his invasions. But at the time, Germany was not the only country marching into neighboring territory. The Soviets had invaded Eastern Poland as well as Finland before Adolph had gotten his Panzers rolling.

In fact, Soviet aggression was the primary concern for the Americans while they endured their so-called ‘Great Depression’. But those economic hardships effectively hogtied Roosevelt’s hands and prevented him from a more expanded series of foreign policies.

“War was a mistake.” Someone had said that to Adolph on more than one occasion. He thinks it was Goering, but then remembers a different voice attached to the words. Now, at the end of all things, he is forced to admit that declaring war on the United States of America four days after the attack on Pearl Harbor was a serious blunder. In all likelihood, the Americans would have concentrated their efforts on fighting the Japanese while continuing to sell military supplies to the British and the Soviets. But they would have stayed out of the fight.

Sudden realization plays across his face. He picks up the pistol and absently fondles it while turning over these new thoughts in his head. A question materializes. Would the Americans and the Soviets have been allies if Adolph hadn’t declared war on the U.S.?

For the first time since he began stirring up dissent some 13 years ago, he allows himself to feel some measure of regret.