Chapter 104
Chapter 104
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 104
Chapter Title: Our Fatherland (4)
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< World War II - Our Fatherland (4) >
May 23, 1940
Berlin, Northern Germany
“You’re saying the 3rd Army is making suspicious moves?”
I asked Abwehr Deputy Director Oster, feeling a sigh about to escape me.
As if dealing with France and their unpredictable actions wasn't enough to keep me on edge, now there was unrest at home.
“Yes, Vice-Chancellor. We don’t have the specifics yet, but there have been frequent meetings among the generals, and we've detected signs that they're trying to win over junior commanders.”
I had feared this to some extent ever since the military leadership intentionally ostracized the 3rd Army, but it would be a problem if their discontent escalated beyond mere complaints.
No matter how I looked at it, the situation was unsettling. I’d been monitoring the 3rd Army’s movements just in case, but this meant I couldn’t focus on France.
Still, I didn't understand. What could they possibly do now?
Did they want to see Germany destroyed by causing trouble while facing threats from Italy in the south, France in the west, and the Soviet Union in the east?
Their military government coup had already failed. I knew the Junkers could be unreasonable, but this was going too far.
“I don’t know what they’re planning, but since they’re part of the army, we’ll need to gather evidence to deal with them.”
“Understood. Phew, we’re busy.”
Major General Hans Oster’s forehead was deeply wrinkled. The Abwehr had played a significant role in the coup, but their workload was truly overwhelming.
It was a small mercy that we had at least managed to consolidate Germany’s scattered intelligence organizations into the Abwehr, giving them more manpower.
Major General Oster ran a hand over his wide, clearly receding forehead, and my gaze instinctively softened with pity.
The general flinched at my expression and replied defensively.
“What is it? I still have plenty left.”
Ah, the ravages of hair loss, felling even the most passionate hero of the Black Orchestra. Stress truly is a terrible thing. I should be careful myself.
“...You’re always working so hard, General.”
“Hardly as much as you....”
Oster glanced at my full head of hair, his expression turning resentful. Come on, comparing a major general in his fifties to me is a bit much, isn’t it?
-
May 24, 1940
Paris, the ‘City of Light,’ capital of France
Having finally bowed to American and British pressure by withdrawing the Maginot Army from Italy and halting oil sales, a thoroughly humbled La Rocque was at last hearing some good news.
“It seems the ghost of Nazism has made its move?”
“Yes, Prime Minister. Heinrich Himmler in Italy has successfully contacted and won over the 3rd Army within Germany.”
A triumphant smile spread across La Rocque’s face at Foreign Minister Paul Baudouin’s words.
Of course, France was destined for greatness. He had been privately worried about the German front, so it would be perfect if they could effectively create a diversion.
“Good, very good. This will be a great help to our plans.”
“But Prime Minister, do you truly intend to support them?”
At Pétain’s worried question, La Rocque smiled slyly and replied.
“Of course not. Italy and we are simply giving them a little push from behind to get things started.”
It was hardly realistic to expect the German people, who had already endured a civil war, to rally behind a rebellion launched in the name of the Nazis.
“Well, that friend of ours, Mussolini, might genuinely believe he can sponsor the Nazis and bring Germany under Italian influence.”
But it was a plan doomed to fail. For La Rocque, it was enough that Germany would be thrown into chaos by the unrest of malcontents who had lost their privileges.
“Our own plan is in its final stages. The Maginot Army withdrew sooner than expected, but that just means we have more precious armored divisions to commit to our operation, which is not a bad thing.”
Pétain’s expression grew slightly uncomfortable, but La Rocque, engrossed in his own plan, ignored him.
“When can the *Richelieu* be deployed?”
“She will be commissioned in early June, Prime Minister. Factoring in minimal training, she can be deployed by mid-June.”
La Rocque smiled with satisfaction at the answer from François Darlan, Commander-in-Chief of the French Navy.
The *Richelieu*, the state-of-the-art battleship embodying the essence of the French Navy, had been fast-tracked with a massive budget for this operation, and expectations were high.
She had been built to counter the German and Italian navies, but now it seemed she would be used for a completely different purpose.
“Aircraft production and training are also proceeding without issue, Prime Minister.”
“Excellent, truly excellent.”
Unlike in the original history, where the air force was largely neglected and what little they had was poorly managed, France was now mass-producing aircraft at a tremendous rate, easily exceeding 3,000 planes.
The unprecedented joint land, sea, and air offensive—the product of France’s greatest minds, squeezed for every idea that could bring Britain to its knees—was steadily being prepared.
“Prime Minister Halifax’s decision once again secures peace in our time....”
La Rocque read the headline of the British daily, *The Times*, aloud, his eyes cold as he looked down at the newspaper.
Though it was a diplomatic defeat for France, it wasn’t entirely a bad outcome. The British fools would be completely off their guard, believing France was still under their control.
Since they had no chance of winning a direct confrontation, the key to victory lay in delivering a perfectly aimed, sharp blow to their unguarded flank.
La Rocque smiled faintly and addressed his high command, who still looked somewhat uncertain.
“Don’t worry. Our preparations are perfect, and the enemy could not be more complacent. To bring down Britain means we can rule Europe, and then even Germany will have no choice but to bow to us.”
Of course, behind La Rocque's words was the calculation that if he wavered now, his government would collapse.
Although this diplomatic defeat had shaken his position, it was also true that military spending had skyrocketed under his government.
So, the military chiefs nodded, albeit with unconvinced faces.
At least Germany was preoccupied with the Soviet Union, and thanks to the Nazi remnants, they were about to be plunged into chaos. That was a relief.
“France will either be great or be ruined. There are only two paths. And of course, we will be great.”
La Rocque declared, as if vowing to himself. The die was already cast.
For France, which had amassed an astronomical debt to build an unsustainable military, stopping was no longer an option.
“Prime Minister. Japanese Foreign Minister Shigenori Tōgō has arrived.”
La Rocque smiled at his aide’s words.
“Ah, our distinguished guest has arrived.”
Indeed, how could they possibly lose after preparing so much?
-
May 25, 1940
Berlin, Northern Germany
“Does my hair look alright today?”
I asked while diligently combing my hair in the mirror. Claudia gave me a look that screamed, “Are you serious?”
“You seem more excited than when you go on a date with me.”
“What? Of course not. My loving wife always comes first.”
Claudia’s gaze shifted to the framed photograph on my desk.
It was a picture of me with General Model and Mikhail, one she had taken when the general was promoted.
“...You have the face of a boy experiencing his first love. Fine, I’ll let it slide.”
I gave her unconvinced face a wry smile and kissed her.
“I’ll be back.”
“See you later.”
A meeting requested by my mentor and respected commander, General Model? How could I not be excited?
...That feeling, however, shattered less than an hour after meeting him.
“Ahem, General Model?”
“What is it, Schacht?”
I narrowed my eyes at General Model, who answered so casually, then glanced at the building where he had parked the car.
My eyes narrowed further as I looked back at the general.
“Is this the place you wanted to come to together?”
“This is it.”
At General Model’s reply, I glanced at the building before me again and spoke.
“This is a prison.”
“It’s a prison.”
I suppressed the sigh that threatened to burst out. Even if he was my mentor, I had only myself to blame for following him without asking any questions....
The sudden, unannounced arrival of a high-ranking government official naturally sent the prison into a frenzy, assuming it was a surprise inspection.
I had completely overlooked the fact that General Model had absolutely no interest in politics. I could practically see my father’s smug grin.
“Hmm, this is routine for me, so I didn’t realize it would cause such a commotion. My apologies.”
General Model looked at me as if it were a new revelation. It was entirely possible that he was only just now realizing I was a high-ranking government official.
“No, not at all, General Model. Thanks to you, I get to see the state of the prison firsthand. It’s great. Haha....”
That wasn’t entirely a lie.
Since we had heavily utilized the horrors of the Nazi concentration camps to bring down their regime, one of the first public works projects we undertook after taking power was to demolish them.
We then built more ‘humane’ prisons to house the existing violent criminals and the collaborators of the Nazi regime.
This was my first time visiting in person, but at a glance, the prison appeared to be kept reasonably clean.
In the Nazi concentration camps, people were worked to death or simply killed, but the Fourth Reich’s prisons only assigned labor that wouldn't compromise one's health.
Ironically, the very people who had perpetrated the atrocities of the concentration camps were now benefiting from our system, living something resembling a human life.
But my brief sense of relief upon seeing the prison was short-lived. I was beginning to suspect that General Model might have brought me here because he was upset with me about something.
“It’s been a while, Dietrich Schacht... Vice-Chancellor.”
I was face to face with Walther von Brauchitsch, General Model’s own mentor and the former Commander-in-Chief of the Army under Nazi Germany.
What is this....
I had been looking forward to a pleasant time with General Model, but instead, I was facing my mentor’s former mentor.
“You look very well.”
Brauchitsch spoke nonchalantly, but I felt extremely uncomfortable.
What was happening? Why did I feel like I was the one who had stolen General Model away from Brauchitsch?
A wave of embarrassment washed over me, like meeting your partner’s ex-boyfriend.
“Oh, it’s been a long time.”
Honestly, I was at a loss for what to say, so I settled for being politely formal. Brauchitsch looked at me with an expression that said he understood, then turned his gaze to General Model.
“Thank you for not forgetting me in this state and for granting my request.”
“Not at all, sir. It is my duty.”
General Model bowed his head to Brauchitsch with undiminished respect. It seemed he had been looking after Brauchitsch ever since he was sentenced and imprisoned after the trial.
Indeed, Brauchitsch looked quite well for a man in prison.
Brauchitsch watched General Model, who still called him ‘sir,’ for a moment before turning his gaze back to me.
“It seems you followed him here without knowing you were coming to see me?”
“...That’s correct.”
Brauchitsch smiled faintly at my answer.
“I am no longer a general or anything else. Just a pathetic man who coveted power, collaborated with the regime, and is now receiving his due punishment. A successful politician of the new Germany has no need to be so deferential to me.”
He had been prepared to fight to the last for Hitler with the Army Group South, but he was captured when General Model’s broadcast caused the army group to disintegrate.
Perhaps being captured before he could do anything, thanks to General Model, was what led to his relatively short sentence. He now looked like a man who had let go of everything and found peace.
“You are someone my mentor respects. This is about more than rank. I am also well aware that you protected me from Nazi influence when my father was ousted from the cabinet.”
“Haha, you have a good memory, my friend.”
He was an undeniable pro-Nazi figure, but he had treated General Model well, and the fact that he protected me—Model’s connection—even when my father had fallen out of favor with Hitler had ultimately helped my standing in the new government.
Brauchitsch gave a bitter smile and fell silent for a moment before speaking to me.
“I abandoned my first wife and married a new one who was a fanatical Nazi to win the Führer’s favor. I had a great many people around me.”
Brauchitsch was looking at me, but his eyes seemed to be seeing something beyond me.
“But when I ended up like this and my wife committed suicide to follow the Führer, the only one who visited me consistently without any ulterior motive was the very junior officer who betrayed me.”
General Model lowered his eyes slightly at Brauchitsch’s words but said nothing.
“The power I coveted so desperately was truly nothing. And the regime I believed in and followed....”
Brauchitsch paused, his gaze falling to the floor. After a moment, he spoke again.
“At first, I just felt wronged and empty. But after losing everything, my blurred vision began to clear.”
Brauchitsch raised his head, looked at me intently, and asked.
“You and the Fourth Reich are ultimately working for the fatherland, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
Brauchitsch let out a small sigh at my answer, then glanced at Model.
“I don’t know you well, but I trust my junior’s judgment. Well, even if he is the junior who stabbed me in the back.”
“Ahem. I am also the junior who continues to visit you, sir.”
Seeing General Model make excuses like that felt so much like my own relationship with him that I almost burst out laughing.
Brauchitsch seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking.
“Küchler is planning a coup with the 3rd Army and the Nazi remnants. Himmler’s right-hand man, Schellenberg, is in Germany right now.”