Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: The Berlin Race (5)
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< German Civil War - The Berlin Race (5) >
September 3, 1939
Berlin-Brandenburg, 3rd Military District, Northern Germany. Contested area near Potsdam.
The roar of cannons repeatedly struck the ear, and the engine noise of a tank swarm, shaking the very earth, filled the battlefield.
[Charge, charge! Berlin is just ahead! For the Fatherland!]
[Enemy defensive line ahead!]
Panzer General Oswald Lutz’s unit was engaged in a fierce battle very near Berlin.
“For the Fatherland! Heil Hitler!”
An SS soldier, clutching a grenade as he charged a tank, collapsed into a heap of flesh under a hail of machine-gun fire, his last words cut short.
“Ugh, uwaaaah, get away—”
The grenade he dropped limply rolled into the trench of his unlucky comrades, erupting with a deafening blast that scattered blood and shrapnel.
Although the defensive power of the infantry—a scraped-together force of Berlin reservists, SS, and police—was not particularly high, General Lutz’s panzer unit was sustaining considerable losses.
[Stukas!]
[Dammit! Vicente’s been hit!]
With a shriek that tore through the air, a Stuka dive-bombed, turning a tank into a flaming coffin.
Against the dive-bombing tactic, which struck a tank’s most vulnerable spot—its top armor—with an aerial bomb, the New Government forces, which had no air force of their own, were defenseless.
The infamous roar of the Stukas, the “Jericho’s Trumpet” that had struck fear into the Allies in the early days of World War II, was now tearing apart the ears and morale of their own countrymen.
“Do not hesitate! Do not waver! Valiant men of the Panzer Corps, our victory is at hand!”
General Lutz, his eyes bloodshot from a lack of sleep since the start of the campaign, continuously urged his men on via the radio, but the enemy’s resistance was only growing stronger.
[Enemy armored unit at three o’clock—]
The report was cut off by an explosion.
[General! It’s a Panzer IV! Our tanks are no match for it!]
“Damn it all. They’re here already…”
Their response was faster than expected.
Even accounting for their access to the railways, this speed suggested they had prepared and departed almost the instant they heard the news. As General Lutz clicked his tongue in frustration, a transmission came through to his tank.
[This is Major General Georg-Hans Reinhardt of the 14th Army Corps, 4th Panzer Division! Rebel forces are to surrender immediately!]
As fellow German tankers, they were all too familiar with each other’s frequencies, and the enemy was using this knowledge to directly appeal to the tank crews to surrender.
[General, what are your orders!]
“The plan has failed. If they’re the vanguard, the 10th Army will be upon us soon.”
General Oswald Lutz felt the strength drain from his weary body, a body that had been whipped onward by stimulants and caffeine, and spoke with a sense of defeat.
“We’ll form a line with the infantry units following behind us.”
General Lutz and his panzer unit had advanced brilliantly, even with early-model tanks like the Panzer I and II, but they were ultimately halted in their race to Berlin, unable to overcome the enemy’s full-strength, scraped-together forces and their air support.
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September 4, 1939
Potsdam, 10th Army Garrison, Berlin-Brandenburg, 3rd Military District, Northern Germany.
If one were to ask whether the 10th Army, which had repelled the New Government’s armored push on Berlin, was in good shape, the answer would be no.
Major General Walter Model, Chief of Staff of the 4th Army Corps, had persuaded a hesitant von Brauchitsch to authorize the 10th Army’s movement. While on the move, he and the 10th Army’s Chief of Staff, Friedrich Paulus, had devised a plan and successfully deployed their forces with great speed, performing brilliantly in halting the enemy.
But there was no joy on his face. He sat with his head in his hands, listening grimly to the broadcast coming from the radio.
[Thank you for mustering your courage to speak with us. May I have your name?]
The woman's voice from the radio was quite familiar to Model. It was Claudia Jung, an acquaintance of his prized subordinate, Dietrich Schacht.
When the news had broken that she was a suspect in the assassination of Minister Ribbentrop, Walter Model had briefly considered her connection to Schacht but had ultimately remained silent.
A soldier does not meddle in politics. That was what he had learned as a direct subordinate of General von Seeckt, and it was a principle he had upheld his entire life. Besides that, he had not wanted to suspect a subordinate he cherished.
[It’s Julia. Julia Bauer.]
[Miss Bauer. Can you tell us how you came to be imprisoned in the Buchenwald concentration camp?]
[I… I don’t really know. I was just a housewife living in Dresden. All I heard was that my cousin had gotten on Dr. Goebbels’ bad side.]
Though it was clear from her voice that the woman named Bauer had never done an interview in her life, Claudia expertly guided the conversation.
[I see. Miss Bauer, what did you experience there?]
[It was hell. We were barely allowed to wash and were poorly fed, forced to do nothing but hard labor. I don’t even know how many people worked until the moment they died. Those who said they couldn’t work anymore died horribly.]
In front of General Model, who was listening to the radio with his head in his hands, stood Captain Clemens Fleck, Dietrich Schacht’s military academy and war college classmate, and Captain Roger Michael.
[That is truly cruel.]
[I-I’ll never forget it. A pastor from Austria said it was unjust to force labor upon people, and they nailed him to a cross upside down until he died. O-one day, a woman begged that she was too exhausted to go on, so they stripped her naked and threw her into the guard dogs’ kennel, saying it was their food! Sob…]
[It’s alright, Miss Bauer. You’re safe now.]
[Why did we have to suffer like that? We weren’t even Jews! We were just ordinary Germans! What did we do that was so wrong to be dragged to a place like that and…]
Bauer, on the radio, finally broke down in tears. Claudia’s voice could be heard comforting her for a moment before a man’s voice—one familiar to everyone in the room—came through.
[The Nazi regime constantly spoke of enemies within Germany. First, it was the Jews and the communists, then the social democrats, then the labor unions! When they had all been taken away and there were no more enemies to hate, they clamored for war, suppressing and massacring anyone who opposed the regime!]
Clemens stared blankly, unsure what to think as he listened to the unfamiliar voice of the man he had thought was his good friend.
[We must now face the truth! It is not the enemies of Germany they spoke of, but they themselves who are Germany’s greatest threat! What we, the New Government, are waging is not a struggle for power! It is a resistance to reclaim Germany’s freedom and survival!]
Listening to the voice of his cherished subordinate, Dietrich Schacht, Model slowly reached for the radio’s dial.
[Subjugation under dictatorship, or freedom against oppression! We stand at a crossroads! Those who choose freedom, stand with the New Government! The Freedom Corps will welcome you with open—]
Model turned off the radio and let out a dry laugh.
“I never knew that fellow had a talent for this sort of thing. I should have recommended him as a politician, not a General Staff officer.”
Clemens Fleck and Roger Michael broke into a cold sweat at their superior’s joke.
Model sighed and leaned back heavily in his chair, then asked casually.
“Did you two know?”
“I wasn’t asked directly, sir, but thinking back now, I believe he tried to sound me out a few times.”
“Uh, I think so too, Major General. I didn’t respond very positively, so…”
Model gave a hollow laugh at their answers.
“I see.”
Just when he thought he was finally getting back on his feet after being demoted, his own handpicked subordinate turns out to be a major and spokesman for the rebels—no, the New Government.
It was a truly ungrateful act, yet Model somehow couldn’t even summon the energy to be angry.
A soldier does not interfere in politics and must be unconditionally loyal to the regime. Separate from his conviction, however, he was a man with enough empathy to listen to his subordinates’ troubles and offer them sincere counsel.
Even after hearing the New Government’s broadcast, Model was not so obtuse as to fail to understand why his prized subordinate was doing what he was doing.
Dietrich Schacht had been considered somewhat emotional ever since Spain.
It was infuriating that he had done such a thing without a word, but even if he had asked, Model would not have agreed.
Was he unaware of the Nazi regime’s true nature? He hadn't been entirely ignorant. He had simply chosen not to care, not to seek out the truth.
But now, even for a man who believed in a soldier’s unconditional obedience to the state, he no longer had the heart to issue orders to crush the New Government forces as mere rebels.
Walther von Reichenau’s 10th Army had defeated the New Government forces marching on Berlin, but the morale of the subordinate units that were supposed to launch a counterattack had plummeted, and insubordination was rampant.
The Wehrmacht had been stopped not by the New Government’s vaunted iron cavalry, its panzer corps, but by civilians and journalists who had suffered under the Nazi regime.
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September 5, 1939
Frankfurt Radio Station, Kassel, 9th Military District, Central Germany.
The Frankfurt radio station, now under the control of the New Government, was broadcasting nonstop. Though the hosts and interviewees changed, the broadcast never ended.
When Claudia grew tired, Editor-in-Chief Heuss would take over. When he tired, Branch Manager Habenstein would step in. There were plenty of others to conduct the interviews.
“Former Mayor of Cologne, Konrad Adenauer, it’s an honor to meet you.”
“Hmph, forget the title the Nazis illegally stripped from me. I now work for the New Government as the Provisional Governor of Cologne-Ruhr.”
In between broadcasts where survivors of the concentration camps exposed the Nazis’ evil deeds and received comfort for their wounds, we deliberately inserted interviews with influential politicians.
“Ah, I see. Governor Adenauer, how did you come to join the New Government?”
“When I was serving as the Mayor of Cologne, Hitler became Chancellor and the first thing he did was order me to fly their flag, the Hakenkreuz. I refused. Then Hitler himself wanted to meet me, and I refused that too. So they dissolved the Cologne city council, accused me of abusing my power as mayor, seized my house, and froze my bank accounts.”
Adenauer, who had a lot to get off his chest, spoke at length in his characteristically blunt and gruff manner. It was refreshing to see even the skilled interviewer Claudia seem a bit overwhelmed.
“They threw me in jail without much evidence, so I was released quickly enough, but after that, they kept threatening me and making my life miserable, claiming I was engaged in some kind of anti-regime activity. As if this old man has any power to do such a thing.”
“That must have been difficult.”
“Difficult is one thing; it was infuriating. Everyone knows people from the Rhineland aren’t exactly friendly. And I’m from the Rhineland. Since those damn fools kept accusing me of opposing them, I decided to give them what they wanted and joined the New Government!”
Laughter rippled through the people around us at Adenauer’s words.
“This New Government has all sorts of people in it. There are liberals, plenty of those Prussian Junker gentlemen I dislike, and even the social democrats I used to rail against as reds back in the Weimar days.”
“Haha, yes. We weren’t particularly fond of you either, Governor Adenauer.”
Adenauer snorted at Claudia’s comment and finished his thought.
“I never imagined we’d all be gathered here, joining forces like this, but we are united by a single goal. If it means driving out the dictator who has ruined Germany, I am more than willing to lend this old hand even to those I don’t particularly care for.”
“Cooperation, even setting aside ideological differences, for the sake of freedom. Thank you for your words, Governor Adenauer.”
I applauded Claudia and Governor Adenauer as they finished the interview and gave them a thumbs-up.
Of course, I had no confidence that I could win a one-on-one speech battle against Goebbels, the genius of propaganda.
But why would I, a proponent of liberal democracy, engage in such a reckless duel fit for a dictator?
The victims of Nazi atrocities were endless, and the number of volunteers for interviews, initially small, grew with each passing day.
The German people under Nazi rule were not without their complaints. They had simply kept their mouths shut because they had no means or way to speak out.
Who was it that said democracy is violence by the majority?
Instead of a reckless head-on confrontation, we were honorably overwhelming them with sheer numbers.
Goebbels’ brilliant speeches and the frenzy of his audiences were the result of not only his own genius but also of meticulously controlled and staged productions.
But we could sabotage his painstaking preparations simply by bringing on anyone who had been wronged by the Nazis for an interview.
The rawness of the interviewees was more relatable and felt more sincere to a public weary of the Nazis’ polished propaganda, and their grief and cries of anguish were raw condemnations that we didn't even need to carefully prepare.
No matter how brilliant a propagandist Goebbels was, it was impossible for him to refute every single one of the countless personal accounts being shared all day long.
And it would be even harder for a totalitarian dictatorship to produce its own emotionally resonant broadcasts featuring ordinary people.
The leadership had expressed considerable concern about what we were doing, but thanks to the support of the Abwehr, including Director Canaris and Deputy Director Oster, and with Beck’s permission, the broadcasts began and became a resounding success.
The monarchist and conservative figures, who had been quite displeased upon first hearing the broadcasts, quieted down once they saw the Freedom Corps swell with civilian volunteers and donations begin to pour in.
In fact, Ludwig Beck and Director Canaris promoted me to major, saying my rank was too low for the work I was doing.
Having earned their trust, I began including key figures from each ideological faction in the interviews to broaden the spectrum of forces joining the New Government.
“To think I’d live to see the day I’m in the same boat as you.”
“I never knew you lot had enough sense to abandon Marxism.”
I smirked as I watched Kurt Schumacher, a key leader of the Social Democratic Party still confined to a wheelchair after his ordeal in Dachau, shake hands with his old political rival Adenauer, albeit reluctantly, after his interview.
Knowing from history how viciously those two had attacked each other as political rivals in West Germany, this was truly a sight to behold.
In any case, the civil war had now entered a new phase.
Manstein’s operational plan had certainly helped us seize control of western Germany quickly, but it was too much to hope for a blitzkrieg without air superiority to succeed in the fluke of capturing Berlin.
From the start, our forces were too small to aim for a purely military victory, and they had the brilliant commanders of the formidable German Wehrmacht on their side.
But with the Ruhr and public opinion on our side, it was a different story.
No matter how powerful the Nazi Wehrmacht was, it was meaningless if it wouldn't move as they wished, and our forces would continue to grow, well-supplied with equipment pouring out of the Ruhr.
Just as I was thinking this, Branch Manager Habenstein called out to me.
“Captain Schach… ah, Major. You’re wanted at headquarters.”
Why would the higher-ups be looking for me?
“Crown Prince Wilhelm is scheduled to arrive in Frankfurt soon.”
Ah, so it has come.
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