The ideal of German superiority could not have been more absent from the very leaders who preached it. The man of true stature, content in the personhood of his own being, walks the low road in peace and finds no necessity to exalt himself or demean those who are different. Only inferiority insists on puffing itself up. Too many proclamations and protestations to the contrary reveal the very flaws the words so vainly try to conceal. The mantra of nazism—that German pride, prowess, might, and dominance must reassert themselves—was transparently motivated at deep levels by the private personal anguish of those who forwarded it most vehemently, of knowing that they themselves were unfit specimens of the Celtic lineage.

Never had the integrity of the German temperament sunk lower than during this heinous hour when national socialism was allowed to run unchecked across the map of a once-proud land.

And now Himmler, in his turn, like his leader, sought out those whom he could gather into his own little club of blackness.

“As I understand it,” Himmler went on, looking down at the papers before him, “you possess a particular disdain for Christians, and for the church in general.”

“That is true, Herr Reichsführer.”

“Are you an atheist, Herr Korsch?” As he said the word, Himmler glanced up and eyed the man standing before him beadily but with utterly blank expression. He was clearly testing him.

“My loyalties are to the Führer and to the Reich, mein Reichsführer,” answered Korsch.

Himmler continued to stare into his face, the dim light of the bulb overhead reflecting off the uncurved glass of his spectacles, preventing Korsch from seeing the thin eyes boring into him. Apparently satisfied, after a moment Himmler looked down, then spoke again.

“I am glad to hear it,” he said. “As you know, our beloved Führer is a staunch churchman and a firm believer in God. His faith in the Almighty is at the root of all national socialism stands for and is attempting to achieve.”

He paused, eying Korsch once more. But the young Nazi had become as skilled in hiding his reactions as the Reichsführer, and said nothing.

“The church, however,” Himmler went on, “has become tainted with an element which does not realize the benefits of our cause to the religion of Germany. There is a minority of church leaders, as you are no doubt aware, that has become increasingly disloyal to the Führer.”

“I am familiar with them, mein Reichsführer.”

“And in your opinion, Herr Korsch, what should be done about them?” Another question of testing had come.

“They must be purged from the church, mein Reichsführer.”

An imperceptible twitch played momentarily at the edge of the SS chief’s lips, then disappeared. His nephew had been right—this young agent showed promise.

“How would you suggest it be done?”

“Discreetly at first.”

“And if that failed?”

“Then stronger measures would be called for.”