Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: The German Civil War - Iron and Blood, Golden Freedom (9)
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November 28, 1939
Berlin, Northern Germany - Outskirts
The outskirts of Berlin had become a hellish battlefield where bullets rained down and the roar of tank cannons echoed ceaselessly.
“Charge, charge!”
Soldiers, spurred on by the sight of their comrades charging ahead, became sacrifices to machine guns. They watched their fellows turn to mincemeat, with no time to turn back themselves.
Their courage devolved into recklessness, ending as a line of corpses sprawled across the cold ground.
“You damn bastards! Killing your own countrymen for a criminal regime!”
“Shut up, you traitors! Sieg Heil!”
Engaged in fierce urban warfare among the buildings, the soldiers of the new government and the Nazis screamed and cursed, shamelessly fanning the flames of their hatred.
The beginning had been difficult, but as casualties mounted, it took only a moment for them to lose all hesitation in killing one another.
“Commander, the casualties are too high. We're being pushed back continuously!”
The Reichswehr was storming Berlin from all sides.
The outskirts of Berlin had already been captured by the Reichswehr from the east, west, south, and north. All the Nazi forces were doing was delaying their advance, forcing losses upon the enemy.
Despite the report from his Chief of Staff, Friedrich Paulus, 10th Army Commander Walter von Reichenau answered resolutely.
“Rather than surrender Berlin to fools who cannot comprehend the Führer's true ideals, we will fight for him to the last man!”
Friedrich Paulus bit his lip.
After hearing the broadcast from his close friend Walter Model, he too had wanted to surrender, but Reichenau always kept him close as an aide, leaving him no opportunity. Now, he'd been dragged this far.
Paulus shook his head. He turned away from the venomous Reichenau, who was glaring only at the map, and muttered softly as he left.
“What a pointless death, all for some Bohemian corporal.”
-
December 1, 1939
Potsdam, a city southwest of Berlin, Northern Germany – Reichswehr Northern Army Command (Forward Base)
Tyrol, which had been on the brink of collapse before the Italian army's all-out offensive, narrowly escaped disaster. The Luftwaffe, having flown to Frankfurt, joined the fight after re-equipping. Meanwhile, with the 14th Army's surrender, the now-freed Bohemian front forces—save for a few security troops—departed as reinforcements.
After the withdrawal from Berlin, where more than half of the 10th Army had surrendered.
The revelation of Italy's bombing of Tyrol, the death of the prince, and the order for the Luftwaffe to bomb Frankfurt led to another wave of deserters escaping Berlin to surrender to the Reichswehr.
Even so, those who remained with the Nazis were desperately defending Berlin.
We tried every means possible to get more of them to surrender, broadcasting nonstop and dropping leaflets.
But even that couldn't convince everyone to surrender.
“The casualties... how many did you say?”
“The current tally is 27,323, Vice-Chancellor.”
I bit my lip as I listened to the report from Chief of the General Staff Erich von Manstein. The Battle of Berlin, which began on November 25th, had already produced tens of thousands of casualties in just six days.
If our side, which was besieging them with overwhelming numbers, had suffered that many casualties, how many must there be in total, including the enemy and the civilians unlucky enough to be caught in the crossfire?
The Nazis were openly waging a defensive battle, ambushing us from every building in Berlin's urban center.
The Nazis hadn't evacuated the civilians beforehand, and we couldn't just shell or bomb a blockaded Berlin with civilians trapped inside.
We couldn't just clear out buildings with flamethrowers like in Stalingrad. With them waging urban warfare using their own people as hostages, the casualties were piling up like snowdrifts.
Those damn Nazis are truly vicious.
“Why on earth, for people like that...”
Though it was unavoidable, I am one of the key figures who started this civil war. I knew there would be sacrifices, but the weight of it is still too heavy.
What are they fighting for, those men who are throwing their lives away for the Nazi regime? What is it that drives them to such lengths?
Fanaticism for the Nazi regime? Resentment toward the new government? Or is it simply obedience to orders?
“Ahem, ahem. Vice-Chancellor. Your warm concern for the soldiers is admirable, but the current casualty count is quite low compared to what was projected when planning for the civil war.”
Manstein's attempt to flatter me even at a time like this made me let out a dry laugh.
General von Witzleben, who was standing beside me, placed a hand on my shoulder and added.
“Indeed. Without the propaganda war you and your people waged, the number of casualties would have another digit. In the end, blood must be shed to end a civil war. It's good to feel responsible, but there's no need to agonize over things beyond your control.”
“...Thank you.”
How bad must my expression have been for these high-ranking generals to act this way? It's embarrassing. I tried to control my face and stared at the operational map.
Berlin was surrounded on all sides, and the outskirts had almost entirely fallen into our hands. At this rate, they wouldn't be able to hold Berlin for more than a week.
But during that brutal week, how high a mountain of corpses would we have to build? How wretched a state would Germany's capital be reduced to?
The desperate Battle of Berlin that Nazi Germany fought against the Soviet army in the original history was now being reenacted as a civil war between German forces.
My finger, which had been tracing the operational map, moved toward Polish territory.
“Poland...”
The Soviet Union had declared a counterattack against Finland, claiming the Finns had shelled their territory—a reason reminiscent of the Nazis' Gleiwitz incident. The Winter War had begun.
Immediately after, we consulted with the Foreign Ministry and once again proposed a non-aggression pact to Poland, conveying our willingness to discuss cooperation against the Soviet threat.
The military was still hostile toward Poland, but with the civil war not yet over and a war with Italy ongoing, they didn't oppose the idea of a non-aggression pact.
Unlike last time, when they had rejected it in a single day, Poland now responded that they would discuss it.
I didn't know if it was because the Soviet threat had become tangible, or because our civil war with the Nazis was ending faster than expected.
How would Poland, which had yet to make a move, react? I hoped it would be positive.
“Once the civil war is over and we've dealt with those Italian bastards, we'll have to take back Danzig and the Corridor from those insolent Poles.”
Manstein, interpreting my gesture toward Poland in his own way, said this as if it were a matter of course.
“We have no intention of antagonizing Poland, at least not yet.”
Danzig. That damned Danzig. As the land connecting the mainland to Prussia, the spiritual homeland of the Junkers, it was indeed a territory too precious for Germany to give up.
But to take that damn piece of land, how many Germans had fallen, and how much had been lost compared to what was coveted?
“We need time to recover from the damage of the civil war and the war with Italy. In the meantime, I have no desire to fight a nation that can serve as a bulwark against the Soviets.”
“Ahem, that is true, Vice-Chancellor.”
Though Manstein said that, he couldn't completely hide his dissatisfied expression. It wasn't just Manstein; most of the German military leadership, with its many Junker officers, probably thought the same way.
Of course, if the opportunity arose, I'd want to reclaim Danzig too. Anyone who knows German history, any German, would yearn for it.
But there were too many variables for us to just go ahead and secure Danzig and the Corridor. Having walked a tightrope for so long, I didn't want to make any more gambles.
On the other hand, harboring the vain delusion of acquiring Danzig through diplomatic negotiations with Poland was hopeless, given its geopolitical importance as Poland's only access to the sea.
“For now, at least, let's focus on the Nazis and Italy.”
Though I said that, I wasn't just thinking of postponing a war with Poland for practical reasons; I was considering how to achieve actual cooperation with them.
How much happier would the German people be, how much would their quality of life improve, just by taking the Danzig Corridor?
Among the Germans who would die on the battlefield, most would never even have the chance to visit the Danzig Corridor in their lifetime. And the Poles are people, too.
It's not like we're madmen who would slaughter all Slavs, calling them *Untermenschen* (inferior races) like the Nazis.
A rich country with a strong military is good. But Germany, even after losing vast territories and manpower following its defeat in World War II, had the potential to rise as a leading European nation. Did we really need to gamble with the lives of our people as the stake?
“In any case, we must end this civil war as quickly as possible.”
My gaze returned to Berlin. Countless blue flags were advancing toward the center, bit by bit, but it was too slow.
With Poland's reaction still unknown and the piles of corpses and ruins growing, I was feeling impatient.
We have to deal with those damn Nazis as quickly as possible.
But now that we had moved beyond a war of public opinion to a bloody conflict, all I could do was trust the generals of the military.
-
When Air Force Chief of Staff Jeschonnek, left all alone and stranded at the airbase, reported that Richthofen and the frontline airmen had gathered every last plane and surrendered, Hitler flew into a rage and dismissed both Göring and Jeschonnek.
Not that it mattered. What was the point of an Air Force Commander and Chief of Staff without an air force? Aside from Kurt Student's paratroopers defending Berlin and a few now-irrelevant administrative generals, the Luftwaffe had nothing left.
The bad news for the Nazis didn't end there. With the death of Prince Wilhelm and the burning of Tyrol under Italian bombing, massive riots erupted in eastern Austria, which had been under Nazi control.
Key Austrian Nazi figures like Arthur Seyss-Inquart, Ernst Kaltenbrunner, and Josef Bürckel tried to stop them, only to be dragged out and beaten to death by the populace.
The Austrians, having driven the Nazis out of the east, chose Leopold Figl as their representative. Figl brought all of Austria over to the new government's side on the condition that a referendum would be held after the war to decide whether to remain part of Germany.
Three months since the outbreak of the civil war, and a mere fortnight since the new government's march began.
As neighboring countries watched in astonishment at the unexpectedly rapid developments of the German civil war, no one could deny that the doom of the once-mighty Nazi Germany was imminent.
Not even the National Socialist German Workers' Party. Not even the Nazis themselves.
-
December 3, 1939
Berlin, Northern Germany - New Reich Chancellery (Neue Reichskanzlei)
A dark night.
Inside the Reich Chancellery, magnificent yet so empty it seemed desolate, the music of Richard Wagner's *Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg* (The Master-Singers of Nuremberg) echoed.
The sound of distant tank shelling occasionally mixed with the orchestral melody from the gramophone, creating a jarring dissonance.
Hitler stood before the desk in his office, arms outstretched, lost in the music as if he himself were the conductor of the orchestra.
The leader of Nazi Germany was watched from opposite sides of the room by Dr. Goebbels and Erwin Rommel.
Act 1. As the music depicting the escalating conflict and the protagonist's despair came to an end, Hitler lowered his outstretched arms and turned to Dr. Goebbels, who had long served as his loyal servant and mouthpiece.
“We've been together a very long time, haven't we, Doctor?”
Perhaps he sensed the end, or perhaps he had momentarily escaped his pain and the side effects of his medication, returning to his true self.
Hitler, who in private was known to be a friendly and affectionate person, smiled unassumingly at Dr. Goebbels for the first time in a long while.
“Yes, Führer. ...We have walked a very long road together.”
Goebbels replied, his face filled with emotion, as if trying to etch the Führer's image deep into his memory.
No other words passed between the two.
Act 2. As the music, depicting the frustrated protagonist's failed attempt to flee with his lover, played on, Dr. Goebbels watched Hitler silently before speaking.
“Führer. What about escaping, even now?”
“I miss the beer hall.”
Instead of answering Goebbels, Hitler murmured quietly, then turned his gaze to Rommel as Act 3 began.
“General Rommel.”
“Führer.”
As the music swelled—depicting the once-despairing protagonist overcoming his difficulties with a helper's aid and preparing his song full of hope—Hitler looked at Rommel with an exceptionally gentle expression and spoke.
“You saved my life. Thank you for staying by my side, even after things have come to this.”
“I was merely fulfilling my duty as a soldier and head of security.”
Rommel's expression was more troubled than proud, but Hitler slowly approached and took both of his hands.
“Thank you again, General. ...Now, do as you wish.”
“...I understand, Führer.”
Goebbels, watching from behind, slowly closed his eyes.
Act 3, Scene 5. As the music reached its climax, depicting the protagonist's magnificent song, Hitler released Rommel's hands, turned away, and spoke in a low voice.
“Wagner's music will last forever. As will National Socialism.”
Dr. Goebbels's eyes finally reddened with tears. He approached his messiah and said.
“You, too, will remain forever in the hearts of true Germans, my Führer.”
Hitler smiled, looking at his loyal servant with warm eyes.
As the piece concluded with a grand orchestral performance praising the greatness and eternity of German art, Hitler's voice turned chillingly cold, a stark contrast to the way he had just looked at his loyal follower.
“But those who do not deserve to remain must disappear.”
The moment the music ended, the door to the Führer's office burst open, and Chief of the General Staff Franz Halder entered.
Hitler had considered dismissing him as well, but with so few generals left, he had been forced to keep him on as the only one capable of serving as Chief of the General Staff.
“Führer! We can't hold on any longer! Three days is the most we can last! We need a decision!”
It was a rude entrance, but Hitler showed no displeasure, clapping his hands slowly. Clap-clap-clap.
“You've come at the perfect time, Chief of Staff.”
“I... I have?”
Even Franz Halder himself, who had come prepared to kill the Führer and find a way to save himself if necessary, was taken aback. Hitler, however, issued his orders naturally.
“There are still those arrested on suspicion of treason, are there not?”
“Y-yes, there are, Führer.”
Rundstedt, Hoepner, Leeb, and others. Those who had been arrested for arousing the Führer's suspicion or for insubordination were still imprisoned.
“Execute them all. And all the prisoners in the police stations. No stain must be left on this Germany.”
“What? F-Führer, that's...”
“Yes, it must be done. God gave me the great mission of guiding Germany. Those who failed to recognize that have no right to remain.”
Muttering as if possessed, Hitler stared at Halder with crazed, bloodshot eyes—a far cry from the calm, unassuming man of moments before—and gave an additional order.
“Blow up the Reichstag. The Brandenburg Gate, too. They are legacies unfit for traitors. This Chancellery is no longer needed, so blow it up as well.”
Overwhelmed by Hitler's madness, Franz Halder stood speechless, his face pale and drained of color.
“I will never leave Berlin. I will be buried here with my Chancellery and remain Germany's eternal leader!”
As Hitler turned and screamed those words—
“Führer!”
Goebbels lunged toward the Führer's back at almost the same instant.
A gunshot rang out.
“Doctor!”
“My Führer, my messiah, forgive this disloyalty of leaving before you...”
Goebbels, who had taken the bullet to the chest meant for the Führer, could not finish his sentence. His head slumped forward. Hitler glared at Halder with bloodshot eyes.
“How dare—”
“I-it wasn't me...”
But the panicked Franz Halder did not have a gun in his hand.
Hitler's face went blank for a moment, then he turned his head with a creak.
The Führer's gaze fell on the pistol in Erwin Rommel's hand.
“R-Rommel... General. Why you? Why?”
Rommel glanced at the completely frozen Halder, then looked at Hitler and spoke.
“I am sorry, Führer. You told me to do as I wished.”
As he spoke, Rommel's slightly wavering expression hardened completely.
“If I must betray either Germany or you, Führer.”
Having regained his composure entirely, he spoke with firm resolve.
“I will betray you.”
“Rommel—!”
Hitler's roar was cut short by a gunshot.
< The German Civil War - Iron and Blood, Golden Freedom (9) > End
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