London. The Reichsmarschall called Koller and Pelz aboard his
train and directed them to scrape together every available Ju
, Ju , Me , and He for Operation Capricorn plan-
ning to saturate the city’s air defenses by sending in first
bombers, then of them returning that same night, and
more the following morning. Pelz suggested sending the ten He
s to drop two -kilo bombs each, filled with Trialen, on
Parliament.
Göring greedily approved. “Just imagine the effect,” he
chuckled, “of twenty Big Maxes thumping down with this super
explosive in them!”
On December , he issued the formal order for a general
new blitz on Britain’s industrial centers and ports, and directed
that the German bombers were, like the British, to carry per-
cent incendiary loads and the biggest blast bombs available.
Leaving written instructions with Field Marshal Milch that the
Me was “only to be regarded as a jet bomber,” as Hitler had
ordained, Göring departed for Paris on the sixth, to supervise
Capricorn the Blitz on London.
In Paris, surrounded by the familiar cosmopolitan sights
and aromas, he reverted to his old haunts and habits. He had
been trying for some time to prise out of the Musée de Cluny a
fabulous example of German goldsmiths’ craft the Basel altar
known as the Antependium of Emperor Otto . He proposed a
swap, acquired title to the three objects offered in exchange, and
on December , , had the magnificent, ornate Antepen-
dium brought around to the Quai d’Orsay. But the French had
now grown crafty: They sensed which way the war was turning,
and wanted to make a gift of it in recognition of the Reichsmar-
schall’s “services in protecting the national treasures.” A gift, in
their view, could be subsequently recovered. Outsmarted,
Göring gave up this particular quest. Deciding to examine the