1920: America's Great War-eARC Read Online Free PDF

Tuttle’s pleasantly cluttered living room. Until his arrival from out west, he’d never seen the place. She lived in a little cottage about a mile from the State Department office where she worked. She walked to work every day, regardless of the weather.
    Hedda hadn’t begun her government work until after Luke had run off and enlisted. Her early letters had deplored his actions, but then, after he’d been promoted to sergeant and later awarded the Medal of Honor as well as promotion to lieutenant, her tone had changed. She was proud of him.
    Luke knew he’d disappointed her by enlisting, but it seemed like the only thing to do at that time. She and he were dirt poor and he was a financial burden to her. He was deeply fond of her and wondered just what the hell was going on this evening. Sit still and wait, were her instructions.
    Like most people, Cousin Hedda had no phone. Instructions had come by courier and caught him just as he’d returned from a pleasant day of sightseeing at the Smithsonian. Two important but unnamed people were going to visit him. He was to wear civilian clothes. He was to greet them warmly and neither stand at attention nor salute where anyone could see him. He was to do nothing that would draw the attention of nosy neighbors to their guests. If anybody was watching, their arrival just after nightfall was to look like the reunion of old friends.
    Okay, he laughed. Washington was a city of plots and secrets, so why should he be surprised at anything?
    At eight in the evening, a car pulled up and two men got out with the driver remaining behind the wheel. Martel went to the door and, despite instructions, had to fight the urge to snap to attention. Instead, he calmly gestured them to come in and closed the door behind them.
    “Mr. Vice President or do you prefer Mr. Secretary?” he looked to Lansing and then, “Sir,” to Lieutenant General Peyton March, the commanding general of the United States Army.
    Lansing took the lead. “Even though the election is formally over and I am now the vice president elect, I will continue to be the Secretary of State until my inauguration in March. Just call me sir, it’s easier.” He handed Martel a sheet of paper. “Read this, Lieutenant.”
    It was only a few paragraphs, and Luke read it quickly. His eyes widened and he swallowed. The contents were dynamite, but were they true? “With respect, General, do you have the message in the original German?”
    March smiled slightly and handed over another sheet of paper while Lansing raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. Luke handed it back a moment later. “Thank you, sir.”
    “And what do both documents say, Lieutenant?” Lansing asked.
    “Sir, they are a message from the German Foreign Minister, Arthur Zimmerman, to their ambassador to Mexico, Heinrich von Eckhardt. It says that the German Army in Mexico is directed to attack and invade California on November 18 of this year.”
    “Very good,” said Lansing with only a hint of sarcasm. “And, just out of curiosity, where did you learn to read German?”
    “Sir, a long time ago I thought things would go bad with the Kaiser, so I taught myself. And I was helped along by a couple of guys I served with who were German immigrants themselves. I don’t think I speak the cultured High German, but I can make myself understood and I can read it quite well.”
    Lansing actually smiled. “And what other languages do you have?”
    “Well, Spanish of course, sir. I learned that on the border and with Pershing in Mexico.”
    March interjected. “Which is where the lieutenant was wounded, won the Medal, and where he got a battlefield commission.”
    “Excellent,” said Lansing, visibly impressed. “Any other languages?”
    “I can get by in French, sir.”
    “And where, pray tell, did you find time to learn that?” asked Lansing.
    Now it was Luke’s turn to grin. “I learned it from a girl in San Francisco, sir.”
    Lansing laughed like it felt good