Chapter 54
Chapter 54
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Rommel Crisis (3)
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Silence descended upon the headquarters.
...
"...Kuh."
Hindenburg's lips curved upward.
"Heh heh heh."
It was a chilling laugh.
His eyes and expression remained as cold as a sword, but his lips were unmistakably forming a smile.
The chief of staff and the staff officers, witnessing their commander laugh for the first time, widened their eyes in shock.
Hindenburg paid them no mind and fixed his gaze on me as he spoke.
"Not a coward after all."
"..."
"Sharp mind, bold heart... Not bad at all."
'...Yes!'
I had to exert every effort to keep my own lips from curling up.
Judging by the commander's reaction, things were looking good.
"Chief of Staff."
"Yes, Excellency!"
"Work out an offensive plan with the staff. A joint offensive with the 8th, 9th, and 1st Armies. Encircle Poland, as this young man suggests."
"B-but, Excellency..."
"Conveniently, we'll soon be taking over the 9th Army's top brass, so no issue there."
Hindenburg cut off Ludendorff, making it clear no objections would be entertained.
Ludendorff chewed his lips before finally surrendering.
"...Understood. We'll do our best."
"I trust you."
Hindenburg gave a small nod and turned his eyes back to me.
"And naturally, the plan's architect should oversee its review."
"Excellency."
The chief of staff finally looked up from behind.
But Hindenburg ignored him and continued.
"Rommel, I'm appointing you as temporary operations staff officer to 8th Army Headquarters."
"Excellency!!"
Ludendorff shouted and stepped forward urgently.
"Appointing a non-War Academy graduate as staff is unprecedented!"
"That's why it's temporary."
"Our staff headquarters is already operating without a single margin for error. Inserting an unseasoned talent will shatter that balance!"
"I hear you worked with the staff when forming the 8th Army."
"...Commander."
The commander slowly turned and looked down at his chief of staff.
The chief of staff glared up at his commander with bulging eyes.
"This directly concerns the authority of our headquarters. Please reconsider."
"..."
The intent was clear.
We can't sit at the same table as some field grunt who ate dirt.
The staff glanced at me at the blunt, insulting words, but I just watched the two indifferently.
'Honestly, it's absurd.'
I'd say the same in his shoes, so I understood Ludendorff's position.
But I was curious about Hindenburg's thinking.
What would the man who trusted me say?
"Chief of Staff."
Finally, Hindenburg spoke slowly.
"We're in wartime now."
Ludendorff's pupils trembled at the utterly cold, authoritative tone.
"This can't be done because... That can't be done because..."
"..."
"Have you already forgotten Prittwitz's blunder?"
"...!"
At those words, Prittwitz's actions flashed through everyone's minds.
The general who said with 200,000 they couldn't beat 400,000 or 500,000, so retreat from East Prussia.
But numbers weren't everything, and victory had been possible.
Had they followed Prittwitz and fully retreated... the Eastern Front's fate might have taken a dire turn.
"Don't get lost in the details. See the forest."
Hindenburg turned to me.
"This fellow is too talented to suffer your scorn and insults."
"Of course, Pour le Mérite..."
"More than that. You don't know, but he has insights beyond imagination."
At that, Ludendorff turned to me as well.
Strong distrust of me, faint doubt in himself.
When I met his gaze steadily without flinching, that doubt seemed to grow.
"So trust him—and me—and take him on. We can't afford to let talent like that sit idle."
"..."
Ludendorff clamped his mouth shut at Hindenburg's rare lengthy speech.
Taking it as assent, Hindenburg patted his shoulder as he passed.
We saluted the departing commander, leaving just us in the headquarters.
'...Now what?'
That was my thought as Ludendorff slowly turned, eyes practically shooting fire.
A twinge of regret hit me late—had I pushed too far?
"Right... Rommel... Major Rommel now, is it..."
...But when you think it's too late, it's really too late.
"The Excellency said to work you hard... so we will."
'He didn't say to work me.'
"Ready to die?"
Oh...
I was dead.
* * *
Beep beep— beep beep beep—
As the standoff between Staff Headquarters and Hinden-Ludendorff dragged on, communications volume surged.
Mostly demands to hand over Rommel, met with "he's busy, can't."
The Eiffel Tower intercepted all these, and Russia grew ever more anxious.
Thus, the Rommel crisis accelerated.
"We must send as many troops to the front as possible!"
"What about supplies?!"
"The railroads are already overloaded!"
"Supplies second! Troops first! We don't know when the Germans will pull something!"
The situation was bizarre.
Coincidence or not, Commander Nikolai Nikolaevich had correctly sensed the Germans might try something soon.
But his response was creating the very opening for them.
Tannenberg's crushing defeat was seared into his mind, distorting every judgment.
"Hurry and fortify defenses!"
"We already have a million men deployed—please, supplies..."
"The Germans have 500,000 on the line too!! This is just like Tannenberg, Lake Masurian all over again!!"
Nikolai Nikolaevich cried out obsessively.
"We must increase numbers no matter what! Once we have superior numbers, the Germans won't dare try anything!"
Even then, they had twice the numbers and got utterly crushed.
Now with a million mobilized, but Germans at 500,000—still 2:1, so same vulnerability in combat power, he meant.
The staff choked on the commander's words but couldn't voice objections.
'Is that right?'
'...Shouldn't we fix supplies first?'
Lack of certainty.
The Russian army, inferior from frontline grunts to supreme commander.
"We're starving... please, food..."
"Shut up!! Insolent peasant scum!!"
At those words, the last faint light in the soldiers' eyes extinguished.
The front suffered chronic shortages of all materiel.
Ammo, shells, weapons, gear, consumables—and food.
'Chronic' barely covered the severity.
Until now, bayonets kept control... but as numbers grew, that changed.
"...How did it come to this?"
"What the hell is high command doing? Mutiny's coming."
East or west, ancient or modern, food and survival matter. France's Revolution with ally Russia shows it plainly.
But high command saw soldiers as machines... no, even machines need fuel.
High command failed to grasp frontline reality.
As discontent swelled ominously.
"All batteries, disperse."
"Open fire precisely at 0400."
After sporadic skirmishes and provocations, German artillery moved first.
Gunners calmly adjusted and loaded.
Even in darkness, their steps and hands erred not.
Soldiers finished tasks in moments; officers anxiously checked pocket watches.
Time crawled, but flowed on.
"Ready to fire."
"Ready to fire!"
As minute and second hands aligned.
"Fire!"
"Fire!"
Boom!!! Boom!!! The gods of the battlefield spat fire.
East Prussia, West Prussia, Silesia, Posen borders lit the midnight.
What would later be called the Poland Offensive—the German Eastern Front total assault—began with hurricane barrage.
"Enemy attacking!!"
"Alert!! Battle stations!!"
Russians scrambled from sleep to counterbattery fire.
But scarce rifles, let alone bullets; no shells.
In chaos, officers fought to maintain control.
"Advance."
Stormtroopers blanketed the front, shattering lines and efforts alike.
The one-sided slaughter began.