Part XII: Subversives

April 4, 1937. Alexandria, Egypt.

The pain from the previous night's hangover was both entirely familiar and entirely unwelcome especially when the environment he now found himself in was both entirely different and an entirely welcome surprise. Mehmed Vehib Pasha had been drowning his sorrows in whatever Alexandrian dive bars he could find since the conclusion of the disastrous fools' errand that had been his short career as a military advisor in Abyssinia. These days he often found himself waking up in whatever alleyway he had passed out in the night previous. (1) Occasionally, the owner of whatever establishment he spent his dwindling funds in would allow him to sleep off his hangover in a back room or something, but never anything like the room he currently found himself in.

vehib pasha.jpg

Mehmet Vehib Pasha b.1877​

The bed and linens were not only clean but soft. Though Mehmed could have done without the light, the ocean breeze from the room's many open windows was refreshing as was the faint aroma of freshly baked bread from down below. Only his pounding headache and sharp hunger pains kept him from thinking that he'd died and gone to heaven.

How did I get here?

As per usual, the night prior was a blur. Yet one clouded memory did come to the fore. He'd met an Albanian in the bar. Not an Alexandrian, no the accent was different. Hardly a trace of Greek or Arabic. They'd talked for a while. The man had suggested that he return to Albania and work for Zog of all people! Even if he was interested in what was effectively police work…Mussolini's hand was so far up Zog's ass he got the Albanian king to open his mouth every time he wanted to trim his nails. He'd never accept a man whose last job was to try and kill as many Italian soldiers as possible…

Could I even stomach it?

The pang in his stomach seemed to suggest that Mehmet could stomach just about anything at this point. Turning to get out of the bed, he found that the same kind soul had placed a glass of water on the nightstand.

Still cool…

Sure enough, the water helped immensely, yet as his senses began to return, he noticed something was missing. Whoever had taken him in last night had removed not only his shoes but his holster and the pistol within. While a part of him knew that the odds of Mussolini's thugs tracking him down was small, he never could quiet those voices nor the ones telling him that he had fewer friends now than when the Empire fell.(2) Somedays it felt like all he had was his wits and the pistol at his side. Now he didn't even have that.

Cautiously, Mehmet rose from his bed to find a pair of simple slippers at the foot of his bed. Their soft lining felt strange after months of wearing military boots yet somehow they made him feel better. Clad in his newfound slippers Mehmet made his way out of the bedroom into the rest of the house following the tantalizing smell of bread.

"Hello?" he ventured as he made his way down the empty corridor. His voice was weaker and shallower than he remembered it but hopefully it was loud enough to be heard.

The pitter patter of a child's feet that greeted Mehmet's words was an even more alien sound than that of his own voice. So too was the smile which creased the small boy's face when he saw him. "Vehib Pasha!" He exclaimed "Father said you'd be up soon! Come! You must join us for lunch!" Dumbfounded, Mehmet took the boy's extended hand and followed him to the dining room where he immediately recognized the head of the household as the man he'd met last night.

Rising with a smile, the man walked over to embrace Mehmet. "It is good to see you well my friend!" He exclaimed. "You must be famished! Come we have more than enough."

Mehmet was in no mood to argue. Within seconds he took a seat next to the man and found his plate piled high with fresh bread, chicken, vegetables, and cheese. He tore into the feast like a man who hadn't seen food in months. Perhaps he was that man. The last time he'd eaten this well was back in Addis Ababa but unlike that food, this could have been a meal from his childhood. Even the ambience seemed to reflect it as the man and his family seemed content to speak Albanian amongst themselves as he downed not one but two plates of food and washed it all down with a glass of milk. Though he still had no idea who this man was or what he wanted, his willingness to bring Mehmet to his family's table spoke volumes.

The last time I ate like this was before the war.

That was over 20 years ago… As he pondered just how he had gone from serving the Sultan to eating bread in the house of some strange man in Alexandria, Mehmet failed to notice the man's family leaving the two of them to talk. Only the solid "thunk" of his holster and pistol on the table brought him back to reality.

"My wife insisted I take this off you when you were sleeping last night. I was hesitant but she insisted you would sleep better. I assume you want this back?"

Wiping the remnants of lunch off his mouth Mehmet shook his head.

"Did you sleep better?"

This time it was Mehmet's turn to smile "Like a bear."(3) He remarked as he reached out for his gun.

The man laughed. "Good, good. It definitely seemed like it did you well."

"Who are you and why am I here?"

The man's smile vanished as his eyes fixated on the fact that Mehmet's hands were on the holster and not occupied with fastening it to his belt.

"Vehib Pasha if I wanted to kill you, I could have many times last night…"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Let's assume I don't appreciate the implication that I would break my besa (4) when I let you sleep in my house and feed you."

"Fair enough." Mehmet said with a curt not. Removing his hands from the holster he asked again "Who are you and why am I here?"

"I figured you might not remember. you were pretty drunk last night." He sighed "My name is Koço Tashko (5) and I'm here on behalf of Ahmed Zog, King of the Albanians to offer you a job."

Mehmet snorted "Now why would he go and do a thing like that? Surely his Italian masters wouldn't be too terribly happy…"

"Who says they would have to know?"

Mehmet paused "And exactly how do you propose to keep my presence a secret? There are still Italian officers in every battalion aren't there?"

"I said a job Vehib Pasha, not a command…"

"I'm not a young man Mr. Tashko," Memhet said with a sigh "you know what they say about old dogs…old war dogs… we do not learn new tricks. I'm afraid you'll find me quite unsuitable as a factory floor manager. Not that I'm suitable for anything else these days… just ask Ras Nasibu."

Nasibu was one of the lucky ones… He could have been a lot more lucky if he'd properly used the gas mask Mehmet had procured for him. Unlike so many of the soldiers under his command, Nasibu had survived the initial Italian gas attacks only to succumb to the aftereffects of his exposure last October.(6) While Mehmet had been spared from watching his commander and benefactor's death, he had been forced to watch the after-effects of the Italian offensive on his men as all their preparations couldn't save them from the Italian gas bombs. Though there were many reasons Mehmet found himself drinking himself to sleep these days, the images of the gassed bodies of his former troops that haunted him were the most prominent.

Tashko shook his head "From what I can gather your time in Abyssinia was a difficult one. Rest assured, neither I nor the King have any intention of putting you to work in one of our factories…"

"Our?"

Tashko smiled "Well, officially the King is the sole owner, but I oversee his operations in Alexandria. A task for which he pays me quite well…" He gestured to the house they sat in. "I was born here you know? We were so poor… yet here I am in a house like this! I could never have imagined it, I thought America was going to be my land of opportunity so I moved there. Turns out, all this time I was meant to return here! I have a feeling you might be on a similar path…"

Mehmet shook his head "Like I said Mr. Tashko, I'm not a young man…"

"Of this I am aware. So is the king." Tashko held up his hand. "Please let me finish Vehib Pasha. We are also aware of your skills and we think that under the right conditions, and at the right time you could offer something very valuable to the Kingdom of Albania. So we wish to put you "on retainer" as it were. You will be paid a salary under the condition that you do some "security" consulting for us here in Alexandria with perhaps an expanded role later."

"And what would Rome say?"

"Who says Rome would have to know? The king keeps more secrets than many people in Rome realize. After all who do you think helped pay for all those extra rifles Hailie Selassie got right before the war started? (7) You know, I just so happen to know a bartender here in Alexandria who owes me a favour… a Greek and, well… you surely did a lot of organizing back in your day. Ostensibly he'll be providing you with room and board to help with the restaurant's books and a few other small things, but in reality you'll have a few assignments for us."

"All of this for security?"

Tashko nodded "Yes, you know more and more people are quite annoyed with the King using his company's many branches to circumvent their precious tariffs. The Italians in particular. All kinds of riff-raff show up at our factories and at the port! If you do well here, we might even send you to consult at some of our other sites…" Reaching down into the bag at his feet, Tashko produced a folder and passed it to Mehmet.

Opening it, he recognized the Port of Durres immediately. The symbols on the map though…

An Italian invasion!

"If I refuse?"

Tashko paused "It's not like you have a host of other options my friend."

"How do you know I won't take this to the Italian consulate?" Mehmet shot back with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sure they'd find all of this very interesting…"

"I'm sure they would…" Tashko said with a nod "I'm also sure you want revenge for Nasibu and your men far more than you want a few thousand lira or whatever the Fascists can scrounge up for you. Besides what makes you think you'd even make it to their door?"

"So you're telling me I don't have a choice…"

Tashko shook his head and let out a small chuckle "No, no, my friend. You have choices, just not very many good ones. Taking my offer means swearing an oath to the Albanian crown and breaking that oath would be considered a treasonous act. If you don't want to take my offer, you're more than welcome to leave. So long as you don't speak a word of it to the Italians you can go back to drinking yourself to death."

"I've sworn oaths to kings before…it didn't seem to help the Sultan or Selassie…."

"The Americans have a saying… 'third time's a charm.' Besides," the Albanian gestured to the house around them "Do you really think Ahmed Zog is anything like the King's you've served before? At a time when every other country is hemorrhaging money, Albania has not only undergone a period of unparalleled economic growth, but the King has established an industrial and commercial network that spans the globe."

Mehmet took a deep breath. Tashko was right. Other than crawling back into the gutter he came from did he really have a choice? As long as Ataturk dominated Istanbul he could never return, nor were employment offers piling up for a man with his record and age. Yet for some reason Zog seemed to think that he still had value. That alone caused a spark of hope to glimmer down in his chest. He'd long given up on holding any illusions about his chances of revenge or his ability to achieve it, yet perhaps the Albanian King was right.

Perhaps he had one more fight left in him.

He owed it to Nasibu and his men to at least try.

"Alright. I'll need another coffee and a shave first, but after that I'm your man. I'll swear whatever you want and get to work."

Notes

1. I'm filling in some blanks here as there isn't that much on Vehib Pasha's last years in OTL other than the fact that he spent most of them in Alexandria before returning to Istanbul right before his death in 1940. Given that his brother lived to be substantially older, it seems likely to me that the hopelessness of his Alexandrian exile shortened Vehib Pasha's life substantially. If anyone has any information to help flesh this out I'm more than happy to change this.

2. Empire = Ottoman Empire

3. Like a bear in the sense of hibernating. This is a colloquial Albanian saying to refer to having a very deep sleep.

4. Besa = Oath. Often considered to be something along the lines of guest right.

5. Tashko was born in Alexandria in OTL and spent some time in New York before returning to Albania and getting involved in the Communist movement. After the war he became one of the main Albanian diplomats during the cold war. In TTL Zog's agents recruit him early on and bring him in before he can drift too far to the left.

6.Ras Nasibu's fate is from OTL. He died in October 1936 in exile in Switzerland from health complications due to gas exposure. Vehib Pasha served as his main military advisor.

7. Here again Zog's American dollars help things. Germany was notoriously short on foreign exchange particularly during the first few years of the Nazi regime so they're even more eager to push through some contracts that they weren't able to in OTL. However, this aid doesn't do much else other than slightly increase Italian casualties as, from what I can gather, the Germans were hesitant to provide anything more than rifles due to Italian pressure and the fact Ethiopians desperately needed mortars, machine guns, and 20mm cannons which Germany also needed as it prepared to rearm.

July 11, 1937. Durres, Albania.

Is there a sadder man in all of Albania?

Koçi Xoxë thought not. The rest of Noli's men, even Noli himself had all fallen in line behind the King. Even the landowners had their dwindling wealth to console them as they mourned the steady erosion of their power. These days Ali Kelmendi had nothing but his stubborn loyalty to Moscow. Yet how much longer would that last? His meagre stipend from the Comintern didn't buy much these days especially in Durres where even the lowliest worker at one of the king's factories lived better than he did. Even if he remained a "true believer" unlike so many of his former comrades, how long would Moscow tolerate his continual failures? Kelmendi had tried so hard to raise up Albanian revolutionaries in every city only to fail again and again and again. Most of his would be converts were merely informants most of whom were eager to sell their information to the Gendarmerie but also some who genuinely wanted to rid their community of an unwanted rabble rouser. (8)

220px-Ali_Kelmendi_(portrait).jpg

Ali Kelmendi b.1900 Ipek Kosovo​

It also seemed to be that even some of Kelmendi's comrades felt he was too extreme and that his agitation brought them unnecessary attention. According to the Gendarmerie's informants the prevailing opinion among the Communists was that their best course of action was to allow Zog to run his course and continue Albania's industrialization. Only by allowing Zog to complete Albania's transition from Feudalism to Capitalism could a true proletariat be created and the necessary preconditions for revolution met. Eventually Zog's pro-worker policies would be revealed to be nothing more than smoke and mirrors for the "true face" of capitalism and the workers of Albania would then flock to the Communists who had been right all along. Of course, if Kelmendi's failures were any indication, could Albanian communists really adopt any other strategy? To do otherwise would be tantamount to admitting defeat. (9)

Then again, perhaps Koçi was being too hard on the man. There surely must be someone in this country more miserable than him. Perhaps the King himself if rumors about his loveless marriage were true. Or perhaps there were still supporters of Prince Wilhelm of Wied lurking around bemoaning the fact that their German prince didn't get the same opportunity Zog did. Kelmendi had, after all, like so many other Communists in hopeless situations, transferred his attentions to the ongoing Civil War in Spain. There apparently, the proletariat was going to finally score a decisive victory against the advancing hordes of reactionaries. All true believers in the coming revolution were thus being encouraged to join the fight and participate in the vaunted "International Brigades." (10)

He may be an idiot, but he's not without his uses…

Or at least that's what Koçi kept telling himself. If it were up to him, this whole enterprise would be wrapped up lest they end up burning themselves trying to play with fire. As a participant in what people throughout the world were calling "Zog's Albanian Miracle," Koçi still hadn't lost the lingering fear that all of this could vanish just as quickly as it had come into being. If he were the king he wouldn't be taking these risks. Then again, those same risks were building the country, which was rising up all around them, a country Koçi had sworn an oath to defend from all enemies within and without. Who was he, a former tinsmith, to advise the King about what risks were and weren't worth taking? Especially when he wasn't sure that if their places had been switched if he would have even offered him the job he currently had.

One more example of the King's Midas touch. Only unlike so many other examples, Koçi's story would likely never show up in the newsreels or the papers. At least not in the foreseeable future. Sure its beginning had been innocent enough, a young tinsmith applying to work in the FMSh factory and somehow getting accepted, however it had quickly taken a turn that only a few people could appreciate at the coming moment. What had started as potentially one of the worst days of his life, a godawful performance review at the end of his probationary period, took a sudden turn with the arrival of none other than the Minister of the Interior himself: Musa Juka. For some reason, the King seemed to think he was cut out for work of a less savoury nature and sure enough he was right. He'd quickly proved that he was far better at spying and rooting out corruption than he'd ever been at shaping metal. In fact, he'd shown so much promise that just a few years ago Musa Juka himself had taken him under his wing.

Koçi's rapid rise through the ranks came with pay raises which were impressive even by current standards. In the space of a few short years, he had managed to save up enough to put a down payment on a flat in Durres and had asked one of teachers at his former factory's school to marry him. While the flat wasn't one of the new houses being built by FMSh for their new subdivisions, it proved to be enough to convince his wife to marry him. (11) Their first son came along a year later and followed by a daughter just a few months ago. Such a life would have been unimaginable for an admittedly poor tinsmith in Korça. Was it really that surprising that he found himself increasingly willing to follow the King to the ends of the Earth and beyond? Perhaps that was the King's plan all along.

He's been right about so many things, who says he's not right about this?

The reality of King Zog's approach to Albania's communist "problem" couldn't have been further from the public image the King portrayed in his radio broadcasts and newspaper articles. As the primary Gendarme in charge of overseeing the treat, Koçi knew that if Zog gave the order the handful of true believers in the country could be rounded up in a day. Though it was possible that order could come in the near future, he doubted it, the King seemed far too happy to play up that threat, as well as the threat of a Yugoslav sponsored uprising, to justify his decision to purchase new arms for the army and the Gendarmerie's expanding ranks. While Musa Juka maintained that this tactic was having the intended effect, every now and again Koçi wondered if the Italians would start to get suspicious.

New mountain guns seem like overkill for this lot, never mind the AA and AT weapons…

Then again, even those purchases had an additional political justification in attempting to pacify an Army which would likely be otherwise enraged at the massive expansion of the Gendarmerie at their expense. More than a few of the Army's best and brightest had been lured over to the ranks of the Gendarmerie in its expansion to six thousand men. (12) It was going to take more than a few hundred automatic pistols and new machine guns to smooth that over. Especially when one took into account the new "toys" provided to the Gendarmerie. Koçi also guessed that by purchasing these new heavy weapons from Italy, the King was also trying to offset their unhappiness about purchasing Belgian and American weapons.(13) Little did they know that Zog's network of "New Albanians" had thoroughly infiltrated the Army. If they thought that their military advisors were making the Albanian Army a mere extension of the Regio Esertico they were in for a rude awakening if they actually tried to invade.

Their awakening would be made even more unpleasant once they realized the degree of internal unity Albania actually possessed. All indications pointed to the tribes being quite happy with the current arrangement, even with the introduction of the new legal system. For all intents and purposes, little had changed for the Bayraktars other than surrendering a few "rights" in exchange for a host of government services. Sure, eventually they would have to enforce the new legal code more stringently in the North, but Musa felt that the situation was sufficiently under control to put that problem aside for another day. (14) As a southerner, Koçi was more than happy to defer to the Shkodran in all matters tribal, and instead focus on the task that had been given him: managing unrest in the cities and the South. Not only did the tribes' complex relationships and bloodfeuds confuse him, both Koçi and his wife took comfort in the fact that the men he dealt with were less well armed by far.

They were also becoming far fewer in number as well. Corruption was still a problem, and probably would always be, but the men engaged in it were far more interested in profiting off the system rather than overthrowing it. The only real anti-Zogists left in the South were the communists and Kelmendi was intent on sending as many of them as possible to fight in Spain due to the worsening prospects for a revolution in Albania. Prospects had never been particularly good, but the King's willingness to throw money at potential problems even before they came up certainly didn't help matters for Kelmendi. Koçi hadn't been on the job that long but watching Kelmendi have a breakdown when he learned that Zog had successfully negotiated with the Italians to bring Albanian oil workers into the FMSh family a few years ago had been particularly satisfying. (15) He could only hope that he'd be able to witness a similar breakdown when Kelmendi learned that the King had been more than happy to help him send volunteers to fight in the International Brigades.

That was why they were here today. As far as Kelmendi knew, both Koçi and his associate Enver Hoxha were also "true believers" intent on eventually overthrowing Zog as a part of a worldwide uprising of the proletariat. (16) As a high ranking FMSh employee, Hoxha handled the recruitment of disaffected workers from the King's factories, while Koçi ostensibly made sure that these workers escaped the insidious gaze of Musa Juka as they left the country to go fight abroad. Kelmendi had no idea that they were both happily operating under direct orders from the King himself who had anticipated growing unrest in FMSh ranks as his economic and reformist policies ran into political realities which curtailed them. Unfortunately for Kelmendi, only a handful of FMSh employees had ever gotten to the point of being so angry with the King that they seriously considered Communism but the King was happy to see them go abroad lest they "infect" anyone else.

Perhaps in another life, Koçi supposed, both he and Hoxha could have actually become Kelmendi's genuine allies. After all, they both came from the ranks he was trying to recruit from: young men with few to no connections with the political class. If one of the King's would be assassins had actually succeeded, and they'd been faced with a choice between a feudal regime propped up by either the Italians or Yugoslavs or Communism they might have chosen the latter.

Better to reign in hell…

Koçi often found himself drifting into such speculation, especially during these mind-numbingly boring meetings with Kelmendi. A typical morose socialist, he kept obsessing about the smallest details and loved to hear the sound of his own voice while remaining seemingly oblivious to the fact that both of his fellow "conspirators" were simply content to nod along with painted smiles. Still, he probably could find better things to occupy his mind. It had been a while since he'd taken his wife out to dinner, perhaps he should make arrangements…

Koçi tried not to smile while Kelmendi was bemoaning the fact that Hoxha hadn't been able to find more recruits in his union meetings. The man was convinced that Enver was completely incompetent and was more than happy to verbally berate the man. A cursory glance revealed that, once again, Enver was doing an astounding job of acting like he cared, very seriously absorbing the abuse and promising to redouble his efforts. Little did Kelmendi know that his remarks were being ruthlessly parodied when he wasn't around. Enver had developed a spot-on impression and was more than happy to drive Koçi and anyone else who knew the situation into fits of laughter whenever he got the opportunity. Even the King had been known to chuckle at Hoxha's ridiculous show.

Koçi suspected that Enver's comedy act was his way of dealing with the fact that he'd been assigned to essentially play the dunce in this relationship. Koçi received no such abuse from Kelmendi because his job was to make the man feel safe. In Kelmendi's eyes Koçi was his agent on the inside of the Gendarmerie who was even more talented than Musa Juka and was an expert at running interference for his revolutionary activities. Once again, the truth of the matter couldn't have been more different. Enver Hoxha was probably one of Zog's most effective "fixers" and had been helping the King with various issues within FMSh for almost a decade now. (17) Like Koçi almost nobody, even in Albania, knew the name "Enver Hoxha" but he had quietly become one of the most powerful men in the country probably even more powerful than Koçi due to his ability to play politics better. (18) Fortunately for Koçi and the rest of the country, Hoxha seemed more than happy to collaborate with the King in building the country up rather than working with the likes of Kelmendi and tearing the whole thing down. The only real difference between the two of them was the fact that while Koçi was more than happy to remain in the shadows, Enver wanted more.

The man needs a wife…

He'd had that conversation enough times to know that Enver would settle down when he damn well felt like it. Still, Enver's refusal to settle down was not without its benefits, especially for his friends. The Gjirokastran had a knack for picking out up and coming restaurants and was more than happy to give Koçi advice on where to take his wife out for dinner. The man certainly had many talents… (19)

Notes

8. Ali Kelmendi is an OTL figure and was the most influential pre-war Albanian communist which, admittedly, is not saying much. In OTL he followed Noli before eventually drifting into Moscow's orbit. The man was not particularly competent by all accounts in OTL and was constantly monitored by Musa Juka before being arrested and deported in 1935. He later travelled abroad and eventually died in Paris in 1939 due to complications arising from stomach surgery and tuberculosis.

9. In OTL Albanian communists adopted a similar stance towards the Italians during the late 1930s and early 1940s. I see no reason why they wouldn't adopt a similar stance towards a vastly more competent Zogist regime.

10. Even with Zog doing him countless favours with his incompetence, Kelmendi adopted the same strategy in OTL when he was unable to raise sufficient revolutionaries.

11. I haven't covered it, but the SI has also been involved in using the Albanian housing industry to stimulate economic growth. In addition to investing in cement factories, lumber mills, and brickworks, Jack has also expanded the "Infrastructure division" to improve the housing available to Albanians beginning with those working for FMSh. Standardized houses are available which also incorporate FMSh rocket stoves to provide an economic means of heat during the winter months.

12. A roughly 50% increase over OTL. Zog seemed to favour the Gendarmerie in OTL due to its increased political reliability but was unable to fund it due to a lack of independent wealth. He certainly could have expanded it more in TTL but he needs to be careful exactly how much he spends lest he attract unwanted attention from the Italians.

13. For those interested, Koçi is referring to the purchase of 100 20mm AA/AT guns and a dozen Italian 65mm mountain guns. I decided not to go with Austrian weapons due to ammunition concerns. For details on the other toys see Parts X and Xa.

14. The lack of enforcement of the new legal code in the North also, unsurprisingly, happened in OTL. In both timelines Zog (rightly) believed that he had bigger fish to fry.

15. In OTL the mid-1930s saw Albanians employed by the Italian companies running the Albanian oilfields go on strike to obtain better wages only to have their strikes brutally suppressed by Zog and the Gendarmerie under Musa Juka. In TTL Zog is able to negotiate with the Italians to prevent strikes from breaking out due to complaints about FMSh workers getting superior pay. The Italians agree to let their Albanian workers join the same union as the FMSh workers under the condition that Zog pays for the benefits and salary increases. By effectively bankrolling a large portion of Italy's extraction of Albanian oil, Zog buys considerable goodwill in Rome while simultaneously building his constituency.

16. So the infamous Hoxha (Pronounced Ho-dj-a) makes the first of many appearances.

17. In TTL Jack decides to keep Hoxha close and bring him onboard earlier. Given that in OTL Hoxha only became a communist in the late 1930s and was only a lukewarm one at that until 1942-3, by bringing him onboard earlier, I think its highly likely that the SI could bring him into his expanding constituency if he recruited him earlier.

18. In OTL, Hoxha outflanked Xoxe when he abruptly adopted a more nationalist position in 1948 and thus isolated the pro-Yugoslav wing of the Albanian Communist Party before eventually purging it.

19. While Hoxha has more than his share of faults, his political skill shouldn't be underestimated. He's far more useful working for Jack than dead in some ditch due to something hasn't even lived long enough to do.

January 18, 1939. Shengjin, Albania.

Why am I so nervous? Nobert Jokl thought as he wrung his hands an peered out the small porthole of his cabin.

Perhaps the better question is: Why has one of the world's leading Albanologists never visited Albania? He'd been asking himself that question for months now and each time it had sent him into a spiral of anxiety and depression. Nearly his entire adult life had been spent studying the Albanian language but in all that time he had never seen it as anything more than one of the worlds most complex linguistic challenges. He had never visited, nor did he spend much time with Albanians outside of the handful of expatriates who had so fully conformed to Viennese norms that they were hardly an imposition on his comfort. Above all else he had pursued his comfort for his entire life and now that comfort had been stripped away. (20)

The cold reality of the Anschluss proved to be far different than the Social Democratic cause Norbert had supported in the 1920s. (21) The riots began immediately and mere weeks later he lost his position at the University due to his Jewish heritage. Despite Neubacher, a former Social Democrat turned Nazi, heralding the beginning of a new golden age for Vienna and Austria within Germany, the result was nothing short of the destruction of the city Norbert had come to love. Neubacher's new golden age came at the expense of the Jews and the very cultural mosaic which made Vienna great to begin with. (22) Even still, Jokl had tried to find a place in the city. He'd applied for library access on the basis of his mixed heritage in the belief that living in a diminished Vienna was infinitely preferable to moving. Had the university's rejection of his application not come days before the events of Kristallnacht he might still be trying to find some way of existing in the city.(23)

Norbert still didn't understand all the focus on broken glass. For him, the most indelible memory was that of the fire, smoke, and ash which emerged from the fire department gleefully watching arsonists destroy piece after piece of the city which he had loved. (24) Fires which Zog had warned him about years before the Anschluss had even occurred. So many of Zog's seemingly inane predictions had come true, who knew where it would end? The Albanian king was probably right that it would not be much longer before even assimilated Jews like himself were going to be in danger. The fires had driven it home that his interests and Zog's might not be so mutually exclusive and the rapid response by the King's agents in the city had confirmed it.

It quickly became apparent that Zog had dedicated an entire team to his "extraction." Working with a speed and precision that could only have come from foresight driven planning, Norbert could only watch dumbfounded as they catalogued his entire library and rapidly smuggled the books out with a handful of other possessions which he would have otherwise been forced to sell had he fully complied with Nazi emigration laws. For so long he had dismissed rumors of Zog's "new Albania" as mere window dressing on a nation still profoundly struggling with its Ottoman legacy. Yet watching the King's men storm in and effectively rescue him along with his life's work in a manner of days demonstrated to him that there was a real genius behind Zog. The image of a lucky mountain chieftain Norbert had cultivated for so long could not be maintained.

Yet its replacement was not entirely evident, and that reality had tormented Norbert for his entire trip. Had this all been some kind of plot to steal Norbert's library and force him into a kind of indentured servitude? He'd been skeptical of Zog's intentions from the beginning even if his increasingly precarious financial situation had forced him to accept the King's money. He had vowed to himself last May that as soon as the politicized demands started appearing, he would refuse further payments and find some other way to supplement his savings to pay for his life in Vienna. So far, the King had been true to his word, but now Norbert found himself even more dependent on Zog. While he no longer had expenses associated with his flat or his maid, he was truly a stranger in a strange land. Who could really say what the King's attitude would be the moment he stepped on Albanian soil? The king's agents had maintained that his stance towards both Italy and Germany and anti-Semetic legislation were a politically necessary front concealing his true attitudes, but Norbert still had his doubts.

Doubts which he had to suppress now and for the foreseeable future as he felt his vessel meet the dock and heard the commotion of the crew securing it to the dock. He couldn't stay on this vessel and he couldn't go back to Vienna. His only choice was to step forward and hope that ultimately, his hopes and not his fears were going to be confirmed in the coming minutes. The Kingdom of Albania's official stance since November 1938 was that no one, Jew or Gentile, would be allowed into Albania without possessing 500 gold francs, a sum which effectively closed it off to the trickle of refugees which had been streaming into the country since even before Hitler came to power. Nevertheless, rumors persisted that the right gendarmes would still allow Jews into the country. These rumors combined with Zog's reluctance to move against his Jewish professors or those engaged in his cooperative farms meant that families continued to make their way there along less traditional routes. (25) Thus instead of travelling more comfortably to the established port of Durres, Zog's men had put him on a tramp freighter destined for the northern port of Shengjin, Norbert still had nightmares of his papers being refused and being left penniless, stateless, and completely abandoned.

Summoning a courage which he had not felt since his professorial exams, Norbert reached down and grabbed the valise with his last worldly possessions and made his way out of his cabin onto the deck of the ship. Despite the sea breeze proving to be a welcome change from the air in his stuffy cabin, the blinding sun nevertheless left him disoriented and blinded as he attempted to get his bearings.

"Doktor Jokl!"

He knew that voice.

"Doktor Jokl!"

Doda?

Bajazid_Elmaz_Doda.jpg

Bajazid Elmaz Doda b.1888​

He barely had time to recognize the voice as belonging to Bajazid Elmaz Doda (26) before the man was next to him wrestling his valise from his hand. "You haven't changed a bit! Franz (27) will be thrilled to know you've arrived! We've been waiting for you for days and he's eager to return to Tirana. Truthfully, it's no Vienna, it's not even Durres, but it's home and that's a lot more than anyone in our position can say these days…"

Tears welled up in Norbert's eyes "Bajazid…" The fact that the man was even talking to him was astounding. Their last conversation had been a thunderous argument as Norbert had attempted to convince both him and his partner Franz Nopca to remain in Vienna rather than accept Zog's invitation to teach. Things had been said which shouldn't have been said and they hadn't spoken since yet here he was, over six years later, greeting him like an old friend. (28)

"Please Norbert, we'll have time for this later. Right now, let's get you off this wretched boat. Franz isn't much of a cook but the hotel is decent." Grabbing his arm Bajazid pulled him across the deck towards the gangway…

And the gendarme…

Jews were only allowed to leave Germany with ten marks. Norbert didn't even have that. The note had long vanished as it had been payment for his trip down here.

"Bajazid, I don't have 5 francs… never mind 500!"

Bajazid eyes smiled "What would you need that for?" he said half seriously. A nod to the gendarme inspecting the ship's cargo proved to be all that was necessary as they walked up the gangway and onto the dock.

"What just happened?"

"Come Doktor, our taxi is waiting, you will get your answers."

"But the police…"

Bajazid stopped and looked him in the eyes "Doktor, I understand your concerns. Really. I had them myself when we arrived six years ago. But soon you will find just as I did that there really is opportunity here and it doesn't matter what you believe, who your parents were, or who you prefer to sleep with." He paused for a moment before continuing "The law is what it is, but things are changing. I still have to be discrete, but you can even wear a yarmulke just like that chap over there without a care in the world. This really is a new Albania, just look around."

Norbert's eyes followed Bajazid's arm and for the first time it began to sink in. The city before him was nothing like the photos he'd seen. There were a handful of old buildings, a church, a mosque, but everything else had been built in the last few years…

"Your paperwork has been filed appropriately I assure you." He said, "Now come, Franz is eager to see you he'd be down here himself if he didn't have to use that damned chair."

Norbert was speechless. The background noise and the smell of the harbour combined with the sights to completely overload his senses.

"I… I… can't…"

Once again Bajazid grabbed his arm and pulled him along "You've made it this far haven't you? I will grant you that it is not Vienna and probably never will be, but we made a life here and so can you. Besides, you will like Tirana, it is quieter than any of the coastal cities and I have it on good authority that your library is being unpacked at your office as we speak. The King's even arranged it so that your residence is next to ours…"

"My library…the King?"

Clearly exasperated, Bajazid opened the door and ushered Norbert in with a bit more force than necessary. Taking a seat next to him he breathed a sigh as the taxi began to make its way through the throng of wagons, people, and more than a few trucks. "Everything will be made clear to you I assure you. Our hotel is near the top of the hill, Franz and I will answer all your questions then. We've even made arrangements to travel with you to Tirana tomorrow. The king himself will see you when he finds the time. You'll see then, he is far more like his letters than the papers would indicate. You'll be on your way to America in no time I'm sure, though I have it on good authority that East Texas is not much better…"

America… So many of his Jewish friends and colleagues had tried so hard to immigrate it seemed almost impossible. Yet Zog had indeed promised that after completing his teaching assignment in Tirana Norbert's immigration to the country would be facilitated by the King's contacts in East Texas. So far, he had come through on all of his promises and while his true motives remained a mystery to Norbert, he couldn't help but notice a yarmulke in the crowd as they made their way up the hill to their hotel.

Notes

20. Again I'm filling in some blanks here for Jokl's personality based on what I can gather from his works and habits.

21. During the 1920s almost all Austrian Social Democrats supported joining the Weimar Republic along with considerable numbers of Right wing and centrist figures as pretty much everyone was convinced that the Treaty of St. Germain had condemned Austria to a future of poverty. It is highly likely IMO that Jokl supported this movement as well.

22. Hermann Neubacher (b. 1893) was an Austrian businessman who was a major leader among the Anschluss movement in OTL beginning in the 1920s. Though seen by Austrian society as a prominent social democrat due to his role in managing the construction industry behind the city of Vienna's social housing program, he actually never became a member AFAIK. Most likely this was due to his hope of building a broad political coalition for the Anschluss movement. After the failure of the Austro-German Zollunion proposal in 1931, Neubacher drifted towards the Nazis, joining the party in 1934 and eventually becoming the first Nazi mayor of Vienna in March 1938. For many Viennese he was the embodiment of Nazism during 1938-39.

23. Jokl's actions and their timing are from OTL. The only big difference is that in TTL Albania is a much more enticing option for various reasons.

24. Norbert's memories are in line with testimonies of many Viennese Jews who witnessed the events of Kristallnacht.

25. Zog enacted similar laws in OTL due to a combination of Italian pressure and his own efforts to appease Italy before being confronted. Initially, all foreigners arriving in Albania were required to possess 250 Albanian Gold Francs or equivalent currency. This amount was raised in OTL in 1939 to 500 but the Albanian archives show that there were major problems enforcing it along with other Zogist laws. There is also evidence in the British archives showing that Zog retained an interest in using the plight of Jewish refugees to gain foreign support for the neutralization of Albania which would alleviate the impact of Italian economic colonization. In TTL the amounts are higher earlier due to Zog needing to cover for his more pro-Jewish policies and due to Albania being more attractive to Jewish refugees.

26. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bajazid_Doda

27. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franz_Nopcsa_von_Felső-Szilvás

28. In OTL Nopca drugged Doda before shooting him and himself after having a mental breakdown in 1933. His papers eventually became a key part of the Albanian National Library. In TTL Zog is able to use his newfound wealth to intervene before this point.