Chapter 66
Chapter 66
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: German Civil War - Iron and Blood, Golden Freedom (6)
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< German Civil War - Iron and Blood, Golden Freedom (6) >
November 20, 1939
Hanover, 11th Military District, Northern Germany, New Government Reichswehr Northern Army Command
“Attention!”
I was taken aback the moment I arrived at the Northern Army Command, which was overseeing the front against the Nazis.
“Salute the Vice-Chancellor!”
At Manstein’s command, he and the staff officers of the Northern Army Command saluted me in unison.
As I stood there stiffly before returning an awkward salute, Manstein, who had orchestrated the gesture, approached me with a broad smile.
“Thank you so much for visiting us amidst your busy schedule, Mr. Vice-Chancellor! This will be a great boost to the army’s morale!”
“Ah, yes…”
Regardless of my bewilderment, Manstein was beaming as if his welcome and gratitude were utterly sincere.
Where was the Manstein who had so elegantly implied, ‘Why should I, a general, have to meet a mere captain like you, no matter how far you’ve fallen?’ Had he undergone a brainwashing?
“…General?”
“Yes, Mr. Vice-Chancellor!”
I let out a heartfelt sigh.
“Please, just speak comfortably.”
“Not at all, this is comfortable! You were appointed by His Majesty the Kaiser himself, after all, hahaha! Though my conduct may have appeared somewhat inappropriate, I knew from the very beginning that you were destined for greatness!”
Wow, this was something else. Erich von Manstein was truly a remarkable man. A sense of weary resignation washed over me, and I quickly gave up.
Worrying about it would only tire me out. I now understood viscerally why Hitler had despised such a capable man.
…Though I’d rather not find common ground with Hitler.
As I was led inside, I couldn't help but frown. Though it seemed they’d tried to air it out, the room was steeped in the stale stench of cigarette smoke.
My deepest condolences to the staff who had to work with him. First Colonel von Tresckow, and now him. Why were there so many chain-smokers?
“How is the operation proceeding?”
“Smoothly! The enemy has undoubtedly failed to grasp our intentions. They have no cards to play to stop our plan, and the encirclement of the 14th Army will be a complete success.”
“Their chief of staff must be quite furious.”
“Hahaha, that Halder fellow must be burning up inside right about now!”
Manstein sounded quite cheerful as he said it. Well, on that point, I had to agree.
Franz Halder, who had thoroughly screwed me over during the Munich Agreement, was paying a hefty price.
He seemed to think we were going to bypass their lines and strike Berlin, but our target was not Berlin; it was the 14th Army in Prague.
“Proposing we target the 14th Army was a truly wise decision! A strategy worthy of a talent I scouted at the War College!”
“…..”
In truth, Manstein’s initial plan had been to strike Berlin with General Oswald Lutz’s armored corps.
But the enemy would defend Berlin with everything they had, and since their general staff weren't the incompetents leading France, there was no guarantee of a breakthrough.
Success would mean an early end to the civil war, but it would also certainly trigger a full-scale battle. If we failed to break through before enemy armored units arrived, we would have to accept immense casualties.
Worse, we could risk an attack on our flank and rear from the 14th Army.
Rather than take such a gamble, I had proposed that encircling and neutralizing the 14th Army first, though slower, would be safer and have a greater impact on enemy morale.
I wanted to avoid a situation where a rush to advance got us bogged down, prolonging the civil war. The military high command had been unenthusiastic, but surprisingly, Manstein had actively agreed, and the plan was approved.
Even the troops who had held a grand departure ceremony in Frankfurt were not headed for the Berlin front.
They were moving by rail to Nuremberg, from where they were attacking under the command of General Wilhelm Ritter von Leeb, bypassing the 14th Army to strike from the south.
The enemy’s morale was already at rock bottom, and they had the perfect excuse: being hopelessly surrounded with no chance of rescue.
No matter how pro-Nazi Wilhelm List was, this was a civil war; he couldn't stop his soldiers from surrendering.
Once the 14th Army was gone, our available forces would increase dramatically. We could then commit more troops to besieging Berlin and defending Austria.
“Of course, this operation is only possible because your propaganda war has crushed their morale, isn’t it? Haha!”
The main problem with this plan had been the possibility of Berlin sending reinforcements to rescue the 14th Army. But the Wehrmacht’s morale was so low that an offensive was nearly impossible, and with the Northern Army Group’s 4th Army switching sides, even that was no longer a concern.
“Not at all. I only provided the idea. It was your ability, General Manstein, to accept it, deploy the troops, formulate the operational plan, and execute it so brilliantly. I’m glad you are our Chief of Staff.”
*I’m glad you’re our Chief of Staff. And I’m glad you surrendered so… ‘appropriately,’ allowing us to make you Chief of Staff.*
I had deliberately spoken with a double meaning. Manstein flinched slightly but replied with a servile smile.
“Haha, thank you! I, for one, was truly moved by your speech, Mr. Vice-Chancellor. It nearly brought me to tears. I will continue to do my best as Chief of Staff!”
“Tears… Yes, thank you for your hard work, General.”
My, what a thick-skinned man you are, General Manstein.
Still, his acceptance of my idea to encircle the 14th Army instead of a quick capture of the capital, Berlin, was only possible because he was a man who loved novelty and had no qualms about kissing up.
He was an irritating but also, in a way, helpful man. What an ambiguous character. As I watched Manstein with these complicated feelings, a staff officer who had taken a phone call reported.
“A message from the Abwehr. An agent in enemy territory reports that the 10th Army is preparing to retreat to shorten its defensive line.”
Manstein broke into a triumphant grin.
“Hahaha, Halder. You really don’t have to make it this easy for us…”
This was the key reason why Manstein, despite planning to encircle the 14th Army, had so thoroughly feigned a bypass of Berlin.
Throughout history, east and west, the most difficult military maneuver is a fighting retreat. How much more so when the retreating army’s morale is shattered, and the enemy is composed of fellow countrymen who would gladly accept their surrender.
“It seems it’s General von Witzleben’s turn to step up.”
I watched Manstein excitedly pick up the phone, a bitter smile on my face.
Seeing Halder pull back the 10th Army, it was clear he was convinced Manstein’s main objective was Berlin.
He had danced perfectly to our tune.
A damn opportunist, but for this moment, I won’t express my regrets.
-
November 21, 1939
Berlin, Northern Germany, Wehrmacht High Command
Franz Halder, Chief of the Army General Staff, was sweating profusely.
“What… did you say, General?”
[Their target was never Berlin. We’ve been surrounded.]
Hearing Wilhelm List’s devastated words over the phone, Halder felt the world spin.
The main attack wasn’t on Berlin?
No, why had he been so sure the main attack was on Berlin?
Because the SD had brought him intelligence that they had held a massive departure ceremony and were launching an offensive on Berlin?
Or because their detached force had made such an obvious maneuver to bypass Stettin?
Or perhaps because enemy armored units had pushed into the gap between Berlin and Dresden?
[Those bastards planned this from the start. This is a thoroughly prepared offensive. While their armored units drew our attention in the north, their infantry crossed over from Nuremberg and are coming up behind us. And their armored units are now moving down our line of retreat.]
Halder felt his strength drain away. No. It wasn’t the enemy’s actions that had convinced him the offensive was aimed at Berlin.
He had assumed that because they were in a civil war, they would be impatient to end it quickly, and so naturally, their objective would be Berlin.
With the navy turning against them, they had lost the industrial zone in Hamburg. If the 14th Army fell, they would be cut off from the production of Czech tanks in Bohemia and the industrial heartland of Silesia.
In reality, it wasn't the other side that was desperate, but his own. The only hope he saw to turn the tide was to repel their offensive on Berlin and score a ‘decisive victory.’
He realized he had been unconsciously hoping they would come for Berlin.
What now? He had lost his last remaining industrial zones, and morale, already at rock bottom, would be shattered beyond recovery.
[I’ve done all I can for the Führer. If I don’t surrender now, I’ll have my own head on a platter. Don’t take it too hard.]
Hearing Wilhelm List’s voice over the phone, Franz Halder replied limply.
“I wish you luck…”
Feeling his body go limp as a water-logged sponge, Halder gave a hollow laugh to Keitel and Jodl, who were staring at him, and opened his mouth.
“We’ve been had. The 14th Army is surrounded and will soon surrender.”
As Keitel and Jodl stared in stunned silence, the phone rang again.
“…Halder.”
An urgent shout came through to the despondent Halder.
[Halder, the enemy has launched a major offensive! We’re not even halfway through preparing our retreat, and they’re already attacking! This information must have been leaked!]
The voice of Brauchitsch, commander of the Southern Army Group—which could hardly be called an army group now that the 14th Army was gone—made Halder laugh hollowly.
Manstein, that son of a bitch. He didn't just stop at devouring the 14th Army; he predicted this, too?
Ordering them to hold their position now would only be counterproductive.
With the 14th Army gone, the turncoat 8th Army would be freed up, and Kluge’s 4th Army would be coming from the east.
“…Try to retreat with your forces as intact as possible.”
Halder hung up before Brauchitsch could say anything more.
Had he lost to Manstein? Without even fighting a proper battle?
“No, that can’t be…”
Halder clutched his head and hung it low. This wasn't his fault.
This happened because Hitler and the Nazis, those lunatics, got caught in their foolish schemes.
This happened because that bastard Schacht used despicable tricks to rob the soldiers of their will to fight.
If the conditions had been equal, if it had been a fair fight, there was no way he would have lost…
“Aaaargh!”
Halder swept all the flags from the operational map.
All they had left now was Berlin.
-
November 21, 1939
South Tyrol, Southwestern Austria, Austro-Italian Front
“Welcome, Major General.”
“Thank you for your efforts on behalf of Austria, Your Highness.”
Crown Prince Wilhelm, the eldest son of Wilhelm III, who had been dispatched to Austria as part of the Reichswehr reinforcements, greeted the commander of the Austrian forces, Major General Karl Eglseer.
“It is an honor to be able to help our compatriots as a member of the Reichswehr.”
“I am grateful to hear you say so, Your Highness.”
Although he had originally volunteered for the Italian front to avoid the possibility of fighting his former comrades in the Wehrmacht, Wilhelm was genuinely proud to be fighting for the people of Greater Germany, a long-held German dream.
“The front is quiet.”
As Crown Prince Wilhelm noted, the Alps, which until recently had been alive with the sound of gunfire and artillery, were now silent.
“With winter just around the corner, and with them suffering losses for no gain, they are likely regrouping their forces.”
The Austrian border guards and volunteers had fought well despite their poor equipment, but Italy, however corrupt, was still a major power.
Just holding them back with what were, at best, second-line troops, was resulting in a steady stream of casualties.
They had only been able to hold on thanks to support from the new government and the natural fortress of the Alps.
“Let’s hope so. Once Hitler is defeated, the Reichswehr will have the leeway to focus on the Italian front.”
Major General Eglseer smiled at Crown Prince Wilhelm’s words.
“I pray that day comes quickly. It is the one thing we are all holding on for.”
The fiercely proud Austrians were enraged by the actions of the Nazis, especially Hitler—whom they had believed to be a fellow Austrian—for agreeing to cede Tyrol to the Italians.
For now, Nazi collaborators were trying to suppress eastern Austria, but Major General Eglseer believed that the east would soon join their cause.
“Well then, I hope for better circumstances the next time we meet, Your Highness.”
“Of course, General. Take care. For Austria.”
General Eglseer smiled faintly.
“For the German people, Your Highness.”
After General Eglseer departed, Crown Prince Wilhelm took a locket from his breast, opened it, and gazed at the photograph of his beloved wife and children.
Once the Crown Prince, he had fallen in love with and sought to marry Dorothea von Salviati, a lower noblewoman he met at university. But his grandfather, Wilhelm II, who had never doubted the eventual restoration of the empire, had furiously opposed it, refusing to allow ‘mongrel’ blood into the imperial family.
In return for defying him and marrying the woman he loved, Crown Prince Wilhelm was stripped of his succession rights, and the imperial family still refused to recognize his wife and daughters. His mother had understood him and his family, but even his father had turned his back on him.
Ironically, even now that a government of democrats—whom Wilhelm II so despised—had restored the monarchy, at least in name, his grandfather was denouncing the new government as traitors for abandoning his restoration and arbitrarily crowning the Crown Prince as Kaiser.
“The day will come when they are recognized.”
Crown Prince Wilhelm murmured, kissing the photograph before closing the locket.
The ousting of Hitler, which had seemed hopeless after the failure of the plot during the Munich Agreement, was now within reach. And his dear friend Blumenthal, thought to be dead, was alive and well.
“Everything will be all right now.”
But then, the prince’s eyes caught sight of black dots in the distant sky, rapidly approaching. He quickly raised the binoculars hanging around his neck and peered through them, then cried out in horror.
“Air raid!”
“Damn it! Alert, alert!”
They had endured many air raids while defending from their positions in the Alps, but this was on a different scale.
Crown Prince Wilhelm could only stare in shock as a swarm of aircraft, blackening the sky, closed in.
“Take cover!”
Soldiers who had been relaxing outside their trenches in the rare moment of quiet scrambled to dive back in, but the fast-approaching enemy planes strafed them with machine-gun fire, turning those who weren’t quick enough into honeycombs of flesh.
As blood splattered and bodies collapsed like riddled dolls, Crown Prince Wilhelm shouted into the radio set up inside the trench.
“HQ, HQ! This is 5th Battalion! Enemy air raid! A massive raid, the likes of which we’ve never seen—”
Wilhelm’s words were cut off as an explosion detonated nearby, the shockwave slamming his body against the trench wall.
“*Cough, gack, kgh…*”
Slammed against the trench wall, his body convulsing from the impact, Wilhelm managed to push himself up. His eyes fell upon the bodies of his soldiers, strewn about the trench, their eyes wide open in death.
Even then, dozens of enemy planes roared overhead.
“Dear God…”
The enemy aircraft, having torn through their defensive line in an instant, were clearly heading for Tyrol.
As the prince tried to rally his body, still wracked with pain, and before the few surviving soldiers could even regain their senses, shouts, screams, and gunfire erupted from all sides.
“Avanti!”
“Attacco!”
Crown Prince Wilhelm stared blankly at the shattered radio, then picked up the Lee-Enfield rifle dropped by a dead soldier.
Peering over the edge of the trench, Wilhelm saw a wave of Italian soldiers, on a scale unlike anything he had seen before, surging toward them.
He immediately dropped flat in the trench. It was hard to tell if his hands were shaking from the intense pain or from fear.
With a trembling hand, he pulled out the locket and kissed it again.
“Dorothea, Felicitas, Christa…”
Only after murmuring the names of his wife and daughters did he manage to find a sliver of calm.
It was only then he realized that blood was trickling from one of his ears, and the cacophony of the battlefield sounded distant, as if coming from far away.
“Your Highness, you must get to safety—”
His adjutant, who had run through the pandemonium to find him, collapsed, spewing blood before he could finish his sentence. Even his shout sounded distant, surreal.
At that moment, absurdly, the face of his father came to mind. Kaiser Wilhelm III, who had named his son after his own father. Would that cold, heartless man look after his wife and daughters if he died?
At the very least, if he dishonored the imperial family with a cowardly act like surrendering to the enemy, his family would never be accepted as royalty. The prince gripped the rifle again with trembling hands.
“A Hohenzollern does not surrender.”
Muttering it like a mantra to himself, the prince poked his head over the top of the trench and fired at the nearest soldier.
“Aargh!”
As the thought that a man’s scream is the same regardless of his language drifted through his mind, the prince mechanically worked the bolt and fired again.
Another one down.
The prince saw an Italian soldier shouting something at him and tried to pull the bolt back again, but his sweat-slicked hand slipped, and he lost his grip.
What is this? If I’m to die, at least let it be with dign—
The prince’s thought was cut short by a gunshot.
< German Civil War - Iron and Blood, Golden Freedom (6) > End