Chapter 82
Chapter 82
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: World War II - What Are We Fighting For (12)
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February 2, 1940
German-Polish Western Front
As dusk settled and the cold night air descended, Polish soldiers huddled around a warm bonfire, soaking in its heat.
“Will those German devils actually cave to the French?”
“Who knows. God, I want to go home…”
Having heard that France had issued an ultimatum to Germany, leading to a conference in Munich, the Polish soldiers were awaiting the outcome.
They clung to a sliver of hope that the war might end just like this, that they could go home without anyone else having to die.
“Ugh, it’s freezing. The damn politicians and generals start the wars, and we’re the ones who suffer for it…”
“Hey, watch your mouth. You’ll get us all in trouble.”
The offensive had been prepared in such a rush that the Polish army had almost no winter gear. Their morale had plummeted after launching an attack under these conditions and now facing a standoff in the open field.
Even if it wasn't the kind of deadly cold that froze a man to death like in Russia, the midwinter chill was more than enough to torment the soldiers.
Lighting a bonfire in an open field, especially a vast plain, was tantamount to asking to be a target.
But the Polish soldiers, believing there would be no fighting for the duration of France’s ultimatum, had let their guard down and gathered around the fires.
One didn't have to look far; the wide plain was dotted with bonfires lit by Polish troops seeking refuge from the cold.
And they became perfect targets for German artillery.
The Polish soldiers, warming their cold bodies with the heat of the bonfire and the hope that the war might end, flinched as a series of explosions suddenly echoed from the distance.
“What was that?”
“Huh?”
Even as they stood bewildered, the explosions continued.
“Don’t tell me…”
By the time the Polish soldiers finally grasped the situation and jumped to their feet, the terrible shriek of something made of steel tearing through the air was rapidly closing in.
“Artillery—!”
The brave soldier who was the first to come to his senses, trying to warn his comrades and extinguish the bonfire, received no reward for his courage as he was engulfed in the blast.
“We’re under attack—!”
“Aaaaargh!”
Whether they screamed at the sight of their comrade’s shredded remains or shouted a warning, it made little difference.
The surprise barrage mercilessly rained steel down upon the Polish soldiers who had been warming themselves by the fires, turning the defenseless Polish front line into a wasteland.
-
“Hahaha, we can’t lose to these youngsters just yet. Let’s go! My Panzers! Don’t think about grabbing territory! Our objective is annihilation, and only annihilation! No mercy for the invaders!”
General Oswald Lutz’s armored division set out from the northeast of Hinterpommern to destroy the enemy lines, which had been ravaged by artillery. Almost simultaneously, the commanders of other armored divisions also began their advance.
“Finally, a chance to prove myself on the battlefield.”
Muttering to himself, Erwin Rommel boarded his command vehicle, adjusted his cap, and grinned.
For a man itching to make a name for himself, having to stick by Hitler’s side and listen to the hysterics of a crumbling politician was torture.
“Let’s see if I can’t knock those high-and-mighty General Staff officers down a peg.”
Erwin Rommel's armored division began its attack from the south of Hinterpommern, aiming for the enemy’s flank—the Poznań Army.
At the same time, in Ostmark, Heinz Guderian looked at the orderly lines of Panzer IVs with a deeply moved expression.
“The armored battlefield I so longed for… I’ll finally see it with my own eyes.”
During the last civil war, his unit had been observing the situation, and during the defensive battles, they had been putting out fires for their allies, so he’d never had a chance to go on the offensive. Guderian turned to his tank commanders and spoke.
“Many of you were my students.”
“Yes, sir!”
Guderian smiled faintly at their response.
“Just do as you were taught, and you won’t bring shame upon my name. Let’s go! Crush the enemy and seize your honor!”
“Jawohl!”
Guderian personally boarded a Panzer IV and led the charge, his armored divisions advancing behind him.
Of course, not every scene was so inspiring.
Erich von Manstein took a long drag from the cigar in his mouth before exhaling a cloud of smoke at the tank commanders lined up before him.
“Gentlemen, a general who got his chance through connections and sheer luck by sticking to the Nazis has become more famous than me.”
As the tank commanders and his staff officers broke out in a cold sweat, Manstein smirked.
“More famous than me, the proud Chief of the General Staff of the German Army. Now, do you think that makes me happy, or unhappy?”
No one answered, each man swallowing dryly.
Manstein took another drag from his cigar, blew out the smoke, then flicked it to the ground with his finger and crushed it under his boot.
“I hate subordinates who hold me back. I also hate subordinates who outshine me. Do your best, so that I don’t come to hate you.”
“Ye-yes, sir!”
While Manstein was putting on his dramatic display, a sharp voice cut through the air.
“The attack was supposed to have started. Aren’t you moving out?”
“Oh, Colonel General von Rundstedt! We’re just about to leave! Hahaha, I was just giving a little speech to boost the men’s morale!”
Rundstedt gave him a look that said, *You? Hardly.* But Manstein just smiled obsequiously and waved his men forward.
The commander of the Reichswehr’s Army Group Center, Gerd von Rundstedt, watched the departing tanks and military trucks with a sense of novelty.
Tanks had once been nothing more than support for the infantry. Now, tanks and motorized infantry led the charge, with the foot soldiers following behind.
“The battlefield has changed a lot from what I remember. Am I becoming a relic?”
“Haha, when the guns in your hands change, eventually the horses you ride will change too, won’t they?”
Rundstedt shot Manstein a look of disapproval before shaking his head.
To think that while he was trapped by that bastard Hitler, this degenerate had become the Chief of the General Staff of the German Army. What had the world come to?
“Well, it’s your plan, so I suppose it will be effective.”
“As expected, Colonel General, you have a keen eye! The Vice-Chancellor himself was impressed when he saw how meticulously I planned this operation—”
“Ah, that’s enough. You should go and follow your unit.”
Rundstedt cut Manstein off, waving a dismissive hand as he turned his back.
-
February 3, 1940
Warsaw, Capital of Poland
“What do you mean, an attack? Now?”
In the dead of night, Edward Rydz-Śmigły, Inspector-General of the Polish Armed Forces, was irritated by the phone call that had shattered his sleep.
[It’s a general offensive by the German army! The enemy began attacking all across the front just before midnight yesterday!]
The words of his chief of staff, Stanisław Kopański, instantly banished the last vestiges of sleep from Rydz-Śmigły’s mind.
“What? But they haven’t even responded to France’s ultimatum…”
[That conference fell through, did it not? We are under attack, Inspector-General!]
A cold sweat broke out on Rydz-Śmigły’s brow. He had heard the news that the conference had failed, but that was just yesterday afternoon.
He had decided not to inform the troops yet, thinking that with France’s ultimatum deadline still active, the situation might change, and he didn't want to lower morale unnecessarily. But those mad Germans had launched a surprise attack like this?
“Ca-casualties? Any positions lost?”
[The enemy has started a counterattack from Königsberg as well, but there are no reports of Gdańsk (Danzig) or other major cities falling yet. However, the front lines are in chaos, and it’s difficult to assess the situation properly in the dark.]
“Have enemy warships attacked Gdańsk?”
[No such reports yet, sir.]
Rydz-Śmigły let out a sigh of relief. Germany’s most important strategic objectives were Gdańsk and Warsaw.
If Gdańsk hadn't been directly attacked yet, this might just be a show of force for France’s benefit or a probing attack.
At least, that’s what he thought.
“F-for now. If no key positions have fallen, it might not be a full-scale offensive. Tell the units not to panic and to first assess the situation.”
[But reports indicate the enemy has deployed an enormous number of artillery units…]
“But in the end, nothing has fallen yet, has it? How can we function if the high command is panicking! Order each unit to hold their assigned sectors and key positions!”
[…Understood.]
In the original history, when Nazi Germany invaded, Poland at least had a defense plan, albeit an incomplete one. But now, Poland only had an offensive plan, and no plan for defense.
They had naturally assumed they would be the attackers. They had belatedly considered switching to a defensive posture, but France's ultimatum had given them a false sense of security, delaying even that.
“As soon as day breaks, I will request France’s entry into the war once more.”
[Understood, Inspector-General. I will report again as soon as the situation is clear.]
The crucial initial response failed spectacularly as the panicked Polish high command, caught off guard by the night raid, ordered their forces to simply hold their existing defensive positions.
By the time they realized that the German objective wasn't to capture territory but to annihilate the Polish forces stretched out along the long front line, German armored divisions had already penetrated deep behind them.
-
February 4, 1940
Paris, the ‘City of Light,’ Capital of France
The French high command was in an uproar, holding an emergency meeting after receiving reports that the German army had attacked Poland without even waiting for France’s ultimatum to expire.
“Is there still no report from the front? If we don’t attack right now, it will be too late!”
Prime Minister Paul Reynaud asked, unable to hide his anxiety and impatience, but the answer from the Commander-in-Chief of the French Army, Maurice Gamelin, was simple.
“Not yet, Prime Minister.”
“It should only take a single phone call to confirm if an attack is possible. How can it possibly take more than a day?”
Daladier, unable to bear it any longer, spoke up in frustration. Maurice Gamelin replied with a solemn face.
“We cannot relay and confirm military orders of the utmost importance as if we were announcing the results of a horse race. There is a risk of wiretapping.”
As both the Prime Minister and Daladier were left speechless, Gamelin added.
“Do not worry too much. The messenger will return to Paris by tomorrow at the latest.”
While they waited for a messenger to travel back and forth, needlessly ignoring phones and radios, Poland was being utterly crushed by Germany. Paul Reynaud clutched his head, feeling a headache coming on.
Had he really intended to go to war trusting these men? The heroes of the Great War had grown old and stale, left behind by the times.
But the French Grand Army was still strong. He couldn't imagine they would lose to a Germany that was already fighting Poland and Italy.
If the Radical Party didn't turn the current situation around, even by starting a war, a second Hitler might rise to power in France.
He was willing to take a gamble to prevent Germany from growing into a nation that could overwhelm France and to stop La Rocque’s Social Party from taking power, no matter the cost.
“A report, sir.”
An aide entered and handed a telegram to Reynaud, who looked up, wondering what it could be this time.
“Forty German divisions to be deployed to the Siegfried Line have arrived in Frankfurt. The commander is Erwin von Witzleben, and the chief of staff is Walter Model…”
Paul Reynaud let out a hollow laugh.
“Vice-Chancellor Dietrich Schacht has invited foreign correspondents, announcing he will give a speech in Frankfurt to encourage them…”
The fact that they weren’t even trying to hide this, but were openly publicizing it, made their intentions blatantly clear.
“Witzleben and Model… Aren’t they the ones who crushed an Italian army more than twice their size?”
The unbelievable victory Witzleben and Model had achieved against the Italians was already known throughout the world. Daladier frowned, and Paul Reynaud clicked his tongue.
“This is a bluff. It must be a bluff! Where would forty divisions come from? They’ve probably just rounded up untrained soldiers to stage a show of force for us!”
But contrary to the Prime Minister’s fighting spirit, the military commander, Maurice Gamelin, showed only a lukewarm response.
“I have given the order to prepare for an offensive operation, but due to the lack of time, it is unlikely to be as effective as you hope. Rather than engaging in an all-out war with them, it would be better to defend from the Maginot Line and then launch a counterattack…”
“Poland will fall if we do that!”
In the original history, France had done nothing but watch Poland collapse, waging a Phony War while twiddling its thumbs. But at least then they had the excuse that their army was still mobilizing, and it was a war against Hitler, the great evil of Europe.
But now, they were on the verge of entering the war as an ally of Poland, which had started an aggressive war with little justification. If they stood by and watched Poland fall, they would be overthrown not for strategic reasons, but for political ones.
This was a war with a weak pretext, initiated by the cornered Radical Party to salvage their situation. As a result, their options were severely limited.
Daladier looked at Paul Reynaud, who was clutching his head, and let out a deep sigh.
Daladier was still pondering. Was it right to go to war with Germany here just to protect the Radical Party’s government?
If they did go to war, could they win easily? With the threat of the Soviet Union becoming tangible with their invasion of Finland, would other nations just stand by and watch until Germany was brought down, even if France joined the war?
*‘No one in this room has the right to drag their people into another Great War.’*
The words Dietrich Schacht had spoken in Munich still echoed in his mind.
“Since we are waiting for the messenger anyway, and they have invited foreign correspondents, let us see what their situation is.”
Gamelin, who was personally relaxed as he had little interest in whether the Radical Party lost power or not, made the suggestion. Reynaud and Daladier sighed once more.
The young German politician was already a subject of caution in France for the mastery of public opinion and popular control he had demonstrated during the German Civil War.
It said it all that even the French, with their strong anti-German sentiment, were derisively calling him the ‘Goebbels of the Fourth Reich.’
But even so, with the French military command responding at a snail’s pace, there was nothing the politicians could do for now.