Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 87
Chapter Title: World War II - For the Nation (4)
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< World War II - For the Nation (4) >
February 18, 1940
Berlin, Northern Germany, Government Office
The scientist I had brought with me, Wernher von Braun, was in the middle of a passionate speech before my father.
“So you see, Mr. Chancellor! This rocket technology can provide humanity with the chance to reach space! Just imagine! Mankind, which has always gazed at the cosmos from afar, will be able to reach out and touch it with its own hands!”
My father, Hjalmar Schacht, however, just looked at him with a ‘so what?’ expression. It made even me feel awkward.
“It may not seem like much now, but this is truly a great leap for science and a dream and hope for all humanity! We have already seen the potential—”
Finally, my father raised a hand, silencing von Braun.
“So, what is the reason our government, in the middle of a war and short on funds, should invest in this… science fiction-like field?”
The merciless assessment of ‘science fiction’ made von Braun’s shoulders slump, and I had to flinch under my father’s icy glare.
In the end, I forced an awkward smile and sought help from the Wehrmacht officer standing beside me.
“Mr. Chancellor, I am Artillery Colonel Walter Dornberger of the Army. The project underway at the Peenemünde base has the ultimate goal of space travel, but separate from that, the rocket technology we have researched thus far can be readily applied for military purposes. The report is here.”
While my father took the report from Dornberger and began to read it, I added my own support.
“It is a project that has also been praised by the Luftwaffe Chief of Staff, General von Richthofen. It wasn't fully activated because Hitler showed no interest, but it is my judgment that it is more than worthy of investment.”
The rocket they would create was the world’s first ballistic missile, and they and the scientists at Peenemünde would later form the backbone of what would become America’s NASA.
Fortunately for von Braun and Dornberger, they had yet to form any significant ties with the Nazis.
I knew that Heinrich Himmler would later take control of the project, but it seemed that hadn't happened yet. It had been languishing, ignored by Hitler, and now it looked like we were about to absorb it as is.
My father seemed to just skim through the report, glancing at me before looking back at von Braun and Dornberger.
“Hmm. Then I will discuss the budget allocation for this project with the cabinet.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chancellor! We will be counting on your support!”
A bitter smile formed on my lips as I saw hope blossom on the faces of Wernher von Braun and Walter Dornberger.
They were undoubtedly geniuses, but in the original history, countless prisoners and Jews had been sacrificed for their project.
That hadn't happened yet, and it was something we could manage properly in the future.
After the two men left, my father clicked his tongue and spoke.
“Are you going to keep bringing me these strange things when the budget is already tight?”
“If it were truly strange, wouldn’t you have cut it off without a second thought?”
My father answered my question with a snort.
Besides them, I had also contacted Werner Heisenberg, the head of Germany's nuclear development, but that was far too preposterous.
I knew from the start that nuclear development wasn’t something that could be achieved with just a few good ideas, but after a serious discussion with Heisenberg, it was clear the project required an excessive budget with no definite timeline.
Of course, the importance of nuclear technology for the future was undeniable, given that it produced not only weapons but also nuclear power.
From my perspective, knowing the insane side effects of the atomic bomb, I wanted to avoid using it until the very last moment, but the strategic deterrence it provided just by possessing it was too great.
But we weren't Hitler; we couldn't just pour our already scarce budget into a ‘big, beautiful, and magnificent new weapon that will turn the tide of the war in one blow, though we don't know when it will be ready.’
Fortunately, as the Fourth Reich gained the upper hand in the war and liberated Czechoslovakia, some of those who had fled Germany to escape the Nazis were applying to return.
Among them was Einstein, which truly delighted me. To be honest, Heisenberg had always been unreliable in the original history, consuming a massive budget with no output.
It was possible that Heisenberg had produced no results because he was uncooperative with the Nazi regime. With Einstein’s return, he and Heisenberg could discuss the matter, and we would at least be able to determine the feasibility of Germany's own nuclear development.
-
February 20, 1940
Karelia, Southern Finland, Finnish-Soviet Front
With a roar that shook the very earth, a ferocious artillery barrage began to rain down, threatening to pulverize the Finnish positions.
An immense number of Soviet soldiers waited in their own positions, their tension palpable, as a political commissar delivered a passionate speech before them.
“Go forth and fight bravely for our great Motherland! Comrade General Secretary will see your—”
But he never finished his sentence, collapsing in a spray of blood.
“Gasp!”
“It’s—it’s—it’s the White Death!”
The soldier who had unwittingly stood up and screamed became the next sniper’s victim, falling instantly.
Even amidst the deafening roar of the countless Soviet artillery pieces, the words ‘White Death’ instantly captured the attention of the Soviet troops.
Terrified, the Soviet soldiers all hit the dirt or cowered behind cover, trembling.
“You worms, get up and maintain vigilance! Do you think one sniper can shoot all of you down, no matter how good he is?!”
An officer shouted, waving his pistol, but since he himself didn’t dare stick so much as his head, let alone a hand, out of the trench, his yelling had little effect.
But when the barrage finally ceased, the brief reprieve was over.
“Go! Go now! Charge, you cowards!”
When no one moved despite his frantic shouting, the officer shot the nearest unfortunate soldier in the head with his pistol.
“Hah!”
“Go! Go and fight! For the Motherland! Ura!”
If they stayed, the officer would kill them. If they charged forward, some would be shot by the Finns, but at least some might survive.
The Soviet soldiers had no other choice.
“U-Ura—!”
“Ura—!”
The first poor soldier to stand up was immediately cut down, blood spurting from his head as he fell to the cold earth. But as the rest of the soldiers rose as one and began to charge, even the sniper could do no more.
Simo Häyhä, the Finnish sniper known by the terrifying moniker ‘White Death’ to the Soviets, clicked his tongue. He rose from his camouflaged position in the snow, skillfully attached his skis, and began to withdraw.
Until February, the Soviets would have fallen into a panic if a few of them went down, unable to advance or retreat. They would have suffered in Finland’s murderous cold until they froze to death.
But spring was approaching. General Winter, who had protected Finland, would soon retreat, yet the Soviet forces, far from dwindling, had only grown in number, pressing a fierce offensive with sheer manpower.
“Aaargh! Another one!”
Elsewhere, by a lakeside, an unlucky Soviet tank leading the charge to break through enemy lines plunged into a trap the Finns had prepared by breaking the ice and camouflaging it with snow, sinking into the water below.
The horrified Soviet troops belatedly tried to form up, but Finnish soldiers rose from all sides, firing their guns and slaughtering the Soviets in a one-sided massacre.
“A cocktail for Mr. Molotov!”
A Finnish soldier lit a firebomb, known as a ‘Molotov Cocktail,’ and threw it into the tank’s hatch. Soon, horrific screams and the smell of burning flesh wafted from within the tank.
Over the months of the Winter War, tactics like setting traps and ambushing to annihilate Soviet forces had become second nature to the Finnish army under Mannerheim.
However, the Finns’ joy was short-lived. A Finnish soldier, still celebrating the success of the ambush, was suddenly struck by a gunshot and collapsed, spewing blood.
“Jukka!”
No sooner had they wiped out an entire Soviet platoon than the Finns saw an even larger force of Soviets swarming in from behind. Gritting their teeth, they had no choice but to immediately get on their skis and flee.
The same situation was repeating itself all across the vast front between Finland and the Soviet Union.
The Finnish army had fought bravely with their ingenious tactics despite their lack of equipment, but now, faced with the overwhelming numbers and combined arms of the Soviet forces, they were suffering losses on a scale entirely different from before.
-
February 22, 1940
Helsinki, Southern Finland
As the now-familiar air raid siren wailed, the people of Finland scrambled into their basements.
“Children, hurry, quickly!”
A mother, clutching a newborn, urged them on as she ran down the stairs, while school-aged children, accustomed to the routine, took refuge in the cellar. This was daily life in Finland.
“That bastard Molotov is delivering his bread baskets again!”
When the international community condemned the Soviet Union’s war of aggression and its indiscriminate bombing of Helsinki, the Soviet Foreign Minister Molotov had shamelessly issued a statement claiming they were ‘only sending bread to the impoverished Finnish people.’
And so, the Finns derisively referred to the bombs dropped by Soviet bombers as Molotov’s bread baskets.
The stadium and athletes' village that Finland had painstakingly built to host the 1940 Olympics had long since been destroyed by the fierce Soviet bombing.
In the Winter War (Talvisota), which had begun late last year, Finland had put up a good fight against the overwhelmingly powerful Soviet Union, but even that heroic resistance was beginning to falter against the sheer difference in scale.
President Kyösti Kallio, Prime Minister Risto Ryti, and Foreign Minister Väinö Tanner were discussing the grave situation in a bomb shelter.
“I hate to admit it, but our army will not be able to hold out much longer, Mr. President.”
Despite being at a severe disadvantage, the Finnish army had performed admirably until January, inflicting enormous casualties on the Soviets. In fact, they still held a commanding lead in the kill-to-loss ratio.
But since February, when the Soviets replaced Voroshilov with Timoshenko as commander, even Finland's ironclad defensive lines had begun to waver. Moreover, 900,000 reinforcements had arrived from the Soviet mainland.
Even if Finland scraped together every boy and old man, and included foreign volunteers, its forces numbered less than 300,000.
Considering the Soviets had mobilized 540,000 troops for their initial offensive, the arrival of 900,000 reinforcements was nothing short of a catastrophe.
“War Marshal Mannerheim has done his best, and our army's performance has been magnificent, but the disparity in manpower and equipment is simply too severe.”
If not for the equipment aid that Germany had been the first to send, the Finnish army would have suffered devastating blows from the outset and would likely be collapsing by now.
But because Germany had broken the ice, aid from neighboring countries like Britain and Sweden had arrived faster and in greater quantities than in the original history, significantly improving the Finnish army's situation.
Meanwhile, the United States had graciously sent valuable aid, including over 40 modern fighter jets, which were due to arrive soon. But Finland was not even sure it could hold out until then.
“Are they still refusing peace negotiations?”
“Yes, Your Excellency. They have stated that a peace agreement without the cession of the territories they targeted is absolutely out of the question.”
Hearing Foreign Minister Tanner’s words, President Kallio let out a deep sigh.
Stalin had been severely humiliated by the Red Army’s disgraceful performance in the Winter War, a consequence of his great purge of the officer corps. When Finland requested a truce, he had flatly refused and, in a fit of pique, dispatched an additional 900,000 troops.
“We have nowhere else to turn for help.”
Sweden, which normally treated Finland as a semi-vassal state, had drawn a firm line at entering the war, and the other Scandinavian countries had already provided considerable support.
France, seemingly displeased that Finland had sought help from Germany, had provided only token aid. The British cabinet had also expressed reluctance to offer further assistance.
The aid from the United States, their biggest benefactor, had not even arrived yet.
“There is still Germany, but…”
At Prime Minister Ryti's words, President Kallio squeezed his eyes shut.
The new German government, which had been the first to help Finland despite being in the midst of its own civil war, had now fully consolidated its control over Germany and declared the Fourth Reich, but it was currently at war with Poland and Italy.
Out of a sense of decency, Finland had put off reaching out to them again in such a situation, but now, cornered as they were, they had little choice.
“Germany has already publicly acknowledged its support for us, and with Poland, their enemy, having signed a non-aggression pact with the Soviet Union, they can be considered a definite adversary of the Soviets. Perhaps there is some hope to be found there…”
“The fate of our nation is at stake, so we have no choice, but it is shameful.”
President Kallio sighed and looked at Foreign Minister Väinö Tanner.
As a giant of the Finnish Social Democratic Party and the man who, as Finance Minister, had personally secured aid from the new German government, he was their only hope.
“I am sorry, Foreign Minister. It is shameless of me to ask, but I must trouble you again.”
“I understand, Mr. President.”
President Kallio sighed heavily as he watched Tanner nod gravely.
The burden of being unable to overcome the limitations of a small nation, despite having done everything for his country, weighed heavily upon him.
Just then, there was a knock on the door, and an aide entered with a telegram.
“Mr. President! A report from War Marshal Mannerheim! He says the Soviet offensive has stopped! Some of their forces are withdrawing!”
It was a moment when a ray of hope pierced Finland's desperate plight, while a dark cloud of despair gathered over Poland.