Chapter 34
Chapter 34
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Widerstand (4)
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March 10, 1939
Berlin, Northern Germany - Train Station
“Hey, Dietrich!”
“Ha. It's been a while, Clemens.”
I pulled Clemens, a friend I hadn't seen in ages, into a tight hug. It sounds strange to put it that way, but that's just how happy I was to see him.
After all, he was my peer, my subordinate, and the friend who took over my company, rolling through hell with me in that godforsaken Spain.
“Man, how long has it been?”
“Hmm... Let's see... Ah, I have no idea.”
The Spanish Civil War was over.
The Republicans, dominated by Soviet communists, had started purging figures and anarchists who didn't suit their tastes even as the tide of war turned against them. In the end, they triggered another civil war within the civil war.
Franco crushed the Republicans, who were now split between communists and anti-communist factions, and managed to gobble up Spain by taking advantage of their infighting.
I couldn't know for sure, but Spain must be a living hell right now. They said Franco's reign of terror and its horrors were enough to make even fascist figures recoil...
“Hahaha, look at this! I'm a captain now, too! Captain Dietrich Schacht? You're not my superior anymore!”
“Oh, right. Congratulations.”
While I was busy studying hard at the War College and engaging in resistance activities, Clemens had apparently stayed in the Spanish Civil War until the very end, distinguishing himself in battle and earning a promotion to captain.
It seemed like my own promotion to major was still a long way off. Promotions to field grade officer were notoriously slow in the German army.
Even renowned talents like Manstein and Model usually took over ten years to go from captain to major, which said it all.
"Still, it's great to be back in the fatherland after so long! I'm sick of Spain."
"Haha, is that so?"
The end of the Spanish Civil War. I couldn't recall the exact date, but in the original history, I thought it happened after the annexation of Czechoslovakia. This was earlier.
Honestly, I didn't know how much of an impact my actions in Spain had. But seeing direct proof that my deeds were changing things gave me hope.
The early end of the Spanish Civil War, and though it wasn't my intention, the seeds I'd sown with Willy Brandt in Spain had borne fruit...
“Hello, Captain Fleck. My name is Claudia Jung. I've heard a lot about you.”
Claudia, who had been watching from a short distance, greeted him with a gentle smile, and Clemens's eyes went wide.
...Gaining the support of her and the Social Democrats was also, ultimately, a result of my actions.
“A-an incredible beauty! It's a pleasure to meet you! I'm Captain Clemens Fleck! Wow, you're gorgeous. Do you happen to have a boyfriend?”
What, this guy's hitting on her the moment they meet?
“Hey, you punk, what about Rafaela!”
At my words, Clemens flinched, and his face suddenly looked like he was about to cry. Whoops, they broke up.
“That bitch... I treated her so well!”
Clemens suddenly let out a sorrowful wail. What do I do with him? No wonder his letters, once full of boasts about Rafaela, had suddenly stopped mentioning her at some point...
“But right before my eyes is someone I could fall in love with instantly. Blondes are better than brunettes, after all. Don't you agree?”
“Oh, what? Ah...”
...This guy wasn't worth worrying about.
Seeing the rare sight of even Claudia flustered by Clemens's relentless advances, I couldn't take it anymore.
“So, how do you know this Dietrich fellow? Are you perhaps... Gack!”
“She's my girlfriend!”
Clemens looked more shocked by my words than by the slap to the back of his head.
When Claudia giggled and nodded at Clemens, who had turned with a dazed expression, he let out a scream.
“No waaaaaay! Even this eunuch has a girlfriend, and I'm singleeeeeee!”
-
March 14, 1939
Berlin, Northern Germany - New Reich Chancellery (Neue Reichskanzlei)
Emil Hácha, who had become president of Czechoslovakia after his predecessor Edvard Beneš resigned due to the Munich Agreement, arrived in Germany at Hitler's summons.
To summon the president of a sovereign nation was an act of extreme disrespect, but Czechoslovakia, betrayed by its supposed allies Britain and France, had been forced to cede the Sudetenland and its formidable line of fortifications, leaving it completely defenseless against the German threat.
Compared to Prague, the picturesque and beautiful capital of Czechoslovakia, the bleak, crude landscape of Berlin—adorned with swastikas in colors that evoked iron and blood—was enough to intimidate him.
“I must keep my wits about me. The fate of my country rests in my hands...”
Even as he spoke, Hácha's trembling hands fumbled for his heart medication, which he swallowed dry. For a man with a weak heart, the merciless nation of Germany was truly a terrible place to be.
Germany, which had put on a spectacular Wehrmacht parade for Neville Chamberlain during the Munich Agreement, had prepared nothing for him, the president of Czechoslovakia.
Without a word or explanation, he was led to an intimidating building. Named the New Reich Chancellery, it was a recent construction designed by their Minister of Armaments, Albert Speer.
Noticing that the entrance, which would normally be in the center, was inconveniently placed on the side of the building, Hácha frowned but stepped inside as guided.
And the moment he set foot inside, he was overwhelmed.
“Heil Hitler!”
A long, long, endlessly long and magnificent marble hall, appearing to stretch for hundreds of meters, extended far into the distance. It was lined with SS guards, their right arms raised to the sky, and their shouts echoed like thunder through the corridor.
“Hah, hah...”
“What is the matter, Mr. President? Please, enter. The Führer is waiting.”
“Ah, y-yes. I understand.”
The old and frail President Hácha cowered as if the hundreds of raised SS hands were swords, taking one hesitant step after another.
The reflection in the polished marble floor—hundreds of SS men and his own solitary, stumbling figure, not even permitted a single aide—seemed to mirror the states of Germany and Czechoslovakia, and despair washed over him.
When he finally reached the Führer's office after walking the entire 400-meter length of the marble hall—a hall designed for the sole purpose of intimidating and frightening people—President Hácha was drenched in a cold sweat.
“Heil Hitler! Führer, the President of Czechoslovakia has arrived.”
Adolf Hitler, sitting at a long desk in his office with his chin resting on his hand, gestured for him to approach.
In that moment, neither the vile smile of Göring standing beside him nor the stern face of Goebbels made any impression on Hácha.
Overcome with humiliation, he staggered as if hypnotized until he reached Hitler's desk.
“Mr. President, you must make a decision for your country.”
“W-what... what kind of decision?”
At Hitler's blunt demand to the leader of a nation, Hácha asked, sweating, and Hitler replied with a smirk.
“You people lack the strength to protect yourselves. And yet, you have continually oppressed the Slovak people. Just as we liberated the Germans of the Sudetenland who were once oppressed by you, we intend to liberate them as well.”
“W-what... what are you talking about...”
Regardless of Hácha's denial, Hitler mercilessly continued.
“We will grant freedom to Slovakia, and Carpatho-Ruthenia, which was originally Hungarian territory, will be handed over to Hungary. After that, your Czech lands, incapable of self-protection, will become the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, a territory of the Reich.”
“That's, that's absurd... Gaaack...!”
As he tried to voice his outrage at Hitler, who was delivering the declaration as if it were a sentence upon a sovereign nation, Hácha clutched his chest, collapsed, and began to tremble violently.
“Hmm, I heard his heart was weak, but I didn't think it was this bad...”
Even watching this scene, Dr. Goebbels's tone was flat.
“The Doctor's idea was far too effective.”
Hitler spoke and gestured impatiently. A waiting doctor and SS guards administered first aid to Hácha, forcing stimulants down the unconscious man's throat and slapping his cheeks to wake him.
“Gasp, haaah, haah...”
No one in the room showed any concern or pity for Hácha, who looked as if he might die at any moment.
“Tsk, tsk. Can you even perform your presidential duties in this state? I will make it easy for you. Sign here, Mr. President.”
Barely conscious, his body trembling, a pale-faced Hácha took the paper Hitler held out and read it.
Germany's guarantee of independence, given after they had carved off the Sudetenland with its three million inhabitants, had now returned as an agreement to dismember the remaining territory into three parts.
“You... you thugs... Even if I die here, I will never sign such a humiliating...”
“Mr. President. I hear Prague is such a beautiful city, is it not?”
It was Hermann Göring who interrupted Hácha's strained declaration with an unrelated remark.
“I'm sure you've heard about Guernica in Spain, Mr. President. As it happens, now that the civil war is over, our Luftwaffe men who were so active in Guernica have returned...”
The horror of the bombing of Guernica, which had leveled an entire town, had been widely reported in the press, and Hácha was well aware of it.
To the horrified man, Göring added with a grotesque smile.
“It would be... a great shame if the scenery of a beautiful city like Prague were to disappear overnight, wouldn't it?”
“Hah, haah, haaah...”
Hácha finally broke into tears, trembling uncontrollably. At a nod from Hitler, SS guards grabbed his hand and forced him to sign, upon which he fainted.
“Well now, make sure he doesn't die. It would be a nuisance if he did.”
Czechoslovakia, the sovereign Central European nation born from the interests of the great powers after the last war, vanished from the map amidst their betrayal and neglect.
-
Ludwig Beck had urged the Army Commander-in-Chief, Brauchitsch, to prevent the annexation of Czechoslovakia, even if it meant the entire General Staff resigning in protest, but Brauchitsch, indebted to and dragged along by Hitler, ultimately did nothing.
In the end, Hitler annexed Czechoslovakia. Slovakia became a German puppet state under the pretext of liberation, and the Carpatho-Ruthenia region, after refusing to merge with Hungary, was annexed by force.
Britain, which had praised Neville Chamberlain for bringing back "peace for our time" and saving them from war, was thrown into shock and horror when Hitler's promise to make no further territorial demands was broken in less than six months.
While Britain and France were still reeling in denial over the annexation of Czechoslovakia, Hitler, on March 22, before the shock had even subsided, seized Memel from the small eastern nation of Lithuania.
On March 30, the finally enraged politicians of Britain and France issued a declaration guaranteeing they would go to war if Germany invaded Poland.
The high-ranking officials and military leaders who had quietly distanced themselves from the resistance after Hitler's great success at Munich, now faced with the threat of imminent war, finally began scrambling to devise a way to stop him.
The last chance to stop the Nazis before war broke out had arrived.
-
April 1, 1939
Berlin, Northern Germany - Parade Ground in front of the OKW (Wehrmacht High Command)
To commemorate the achievements of the Condor Legion in the Spanish Civil War, all German soldiers who had been dispatched to the legion were gathered on the parade ground.
Hugo Sperrle, the air force commander when I was there; Wilhelm Ritter von Thoma, the army commander; and Richthofen, who was a lieutenant colonel when I first met him but had been rapidly promoted to major general.
And Major General Walter Model, my benefactor who had sent me to Berlin and was now actively protecting me through Brauchitsch.
My battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Edmund Veckes; my dear, albeit annoying, peer Clemens; First Lieutenant Egon Ross; First Lieutenant Karlheinz Beckmann; and Sergeant Kocher.
Our ranks had changed, but all the comrades who had fought and bled in that hellhole of a country were gathered here, receiving an enthusiastic welcome from a magnificent honor guard and the local citizens.
If we were being welcomed like this for a righteous victory in a war, by a government we could be proud of as people of this era, I would have been overjoyed.
“As Führer of the German Nation and Reich, I am overjoyed to welcome back to the heart of Germany the proud men of the Condor Legion, who fought against those Reds in Spain to defend freedom and justice!”
Even the Nazis, harsher on freedom than anyone else in this era, claimed to champion freedom and justice.
“Your devotion is proof of the eternal friendship between Germany and Spain, and your sweat and blood were the very embodiment of German justice!”
The sight of the German people gazing at the Führer with admiration for such words was ironic.
“But there are those who envy Germany's rightful claims. Those who, despite Germany's long patience, dare to deny our rights!”
My head knew it was all bullshit, but listening to that dynamic speech, I felt like even I was being drawn in by Hitler.
I wonder if I could learn to do that.
“But those weaklings must know they cannot dare to halt the ascent of the great Germany! Germany, soaring on wings of steel, will mercilessly tear those insignificant fools to pieces, and I have no doubt that you will be at the vanguard!”
“Sieg Heil!”
“Heil Hitler!”
“Deutschland über Alles!”
Amidst the fervent cheers, Hitler concluded his speech and stepped down to personally award the Spanish Civil War campaign medals to those who had achieved great distinction.
Many of those who had been with me since the early days of the war were receiving the higher-grade medal, the one that included swords.
Hugo Sperrle, Wilhelm Ritter von Thoma, Wolfram von Richthofen, Adolf Galland, Werner Mölders, and even Walter Model.
Everyone looked pleased. And finally, it was my turn.
“Dietrich Schacht... Captain.”
Hitler smiled faintly at me, as if savoring my name and rank.
“You made a key contribution at the Battle of Brunete when you were just a first lieutenant. Haha... you're the only company-grade army officer to receive this for your achievements. A promising officer for the future.”
With those words, Hitler pinned the silver Spanish Cross with Swords to my chest. A medal engraved with a swastika.
“Thank you!”
I replied, saluting Hitler. He should have moved on after pinning the medal, but he paused, studying my face for a moment before speaking.
“Your father... he was a great help to me and to Germany. But recently, regrettably, that has not been the case.”
So that's why this man was spending so much time on a mere captain. I felt a cold sweat trickle down my spine.
“...You will be loyal to me and to Germany, won't you? Dietrich. Schacht. Captain.”
“As a soldier of the Wehrmacht, I pledge my loyalty to Germany.”
Hitler chuckled at my answer, patted my shoulder, and turned away.
...But he didn't leave. With his back to me, he turned his head slightly and asked again.
“And what about to me?”
Hitler's cold gaze was fixed on me.
“...Führer, you are, at this moment, the leader of Germany.”
“Haha. Hahaha...”
As if satisfied with my answer, Hitler laughed and moved on to the next recipient. I was still sweating, but it seemed I had navigated that successfully.
Nearly every officer was looking at me, so I had to force an awkward smile. I didn't want this kind of attention.
When I glanced over, Hitler, the very man who had put me on edge, was cheerfully pinning a medal on someone else, acting as if nothing had happened.
Yes. Führer, you are the leader of Germany.
...For now.