Chapter 110
Chapter 110
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 110
Chapter Title: Schlieffen Plan (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Huff... huff...!"
While the Russian Empire, having barely quelled the chaos of Bloody Sunday, was once again plunging into turmoil with Rasputin's emergence, I was sprinting down the hospital corridor with a frantic look on my face.
Doctors and nurses shouted at me not to run as I passed, but their words didn't register in my ears at all.
Slide!
"Chief of the General Staff Schlieffen!"
"Lieutenant Choi?"
I burst into the hospital room without even knocking, my impatience getting the better of me. There, wrapped head to toe in bandages and lying on the bed, was Chief of the General Staff Schlieffen, greeting me.
"Heh heh, anyone seeing this might think I was on my deathbed."
Schlieffen managed a weak smile as he looked at me.
I let out a sigh of relief at the sight of him—he didn't seem to be in any mortal danger.
"Who would've thought I'd get kicked by a horse at my age? Life really is full of surprises."
"Please don't say that. Do you have any idea how shocked I was when I heard the news this morning?"
From what I'd heard, Schlieffen had been on his way to the General Staff headquarters at his usual precise time when he was struck by a horse ridden by a fellow general.
It was something I never could have anticipated. When I learned he'd barely clung to life and been rushed to the hospital, I raced over in a panic.
Yet Schlieffen was playing it off like it was nothing, acting nonchalant. Out of worry, I ended up nagging the man who was over seventy.
We'd been lucky this time, but getting kicked by a horse was no laughing matter.
In my past life, I'd seen a video of a horse's single kick killing another horse.
Schlieffen could easily have ended up like that horse in the video—crumpled on the ground, twitching, life slipping away—if things had gone just a little worse.
"I'm fine. Really. My life's still hanging on, isn't it?"
Schlieffen forced a smile, trying to reassure me.
But that smile soon turned wistful.
"Still, I'll have to step down as Chief of the General Staff. My body's not up to the task anymore."
"Sir..."
"Ha ha, why the long face? I'm telling you, I'm okay. I'm seventy-two now, and I've served in the military for fifty-three years. It's time to hand the reins to the next generation and retire."
I knew that.
I knew that in the original history, Schlieffen would retire from his position as Chief of the General Staff right at the start of next year, 1906.
But I'd always attributed it to his age, so I'd planned to ask him to stay on for at least a year or two longer.
After all, even after retiring, Schlieffen lived until 1913, just before World War I broke out.
So I'd thought I could delay his retirement a bit...
'Who could've predicted Schlieffen getting kicked by a horse on his way to work!'
No matter how much I'd inherited King Sejong's philosophy that a nation thrives when its people are safe and sound, I couldn't in good conscience ask Schlieffen to stay in the military in his current state.
"Who do you have in mind as your successor, then?"
Ultimately, I gave up on trying to dissuade him from retiring and asked with a somber expression.
Of course, I already knew the answer.
"I haven't officially picked one, but there are several candidates. People like Hans Hartwig von Beseler, who's close to me, or Karl Wilhelm Paul von Bülow, the Chancellor's brother, and even von der Goltz."
"Von der Goltz—you mean Colmar von der Goltz, the general who served as a military advisor to the Ottoman Empire?"
"That's right. Personally, I think he'd make the best successor, but His Majesty the Kaiser doesn't seem to like him."
Not just Wilhelm II—even I wouldn't get along with him.
Wilhelm Leopold Colmar Freiherr von der Goltz wasn't just a militarist; he was a social Darwinist who heavily influenced fascism and Nazism.
He applied survival of the fittest to international relations, claiming it was natural and inevitable for strong nations to devour weak ones.
To be fair, that was a common view in much of the German military.
But von der Goltz crossed the line.
He considered massacres the most beautiful thing in the world and, as if to prove his twisted aesthetic, led the massacres in Belgium as the administrator of the occupied territories in the early days of World War I.
'Adolf Hitler praised him during the slaughters in Eastern Europe—that says it all.'
Fortunately, Colmar von der Goltz never became Chief of the General Staff because Wilhelm II disliked him.
The one who succeeded Schlieffen wasn't among the candidates he'd named.
"So, who does His Majesty have in mind for the next Chief of the General Staff?"
"Moltke."
Helmuth Johannes Ludwig von Moltke.
The nephew of Helmuth Karl Bernhard von Moltke—the hero of the Austro-Prussian and Franco-Prussian Wars, and the first Chief of the General Staff of the German Empire. He's commonly called the "Little Moltke," while his uncle is the "Great Moltke."
"Truth be told, Moltke's never served as a staff officer at the corps level, so there's quite a bit of controversy about him taking the role. But His Majesty favors him greatly. Unless something goes wrong, he'll be the new Chief."
Just as Schlieffen said.
In the original history, Moltke became Schlieffen's successor thanks to the Kaiser's favor.
'And shortly after World War I broke out, he botched the Schlieffen Plan and was dismissed.'
That said, it was hard to pin the plan's failure entirely on Moltke.
No offense to the man in front of me, but the Schlieffen Plan itself was a reckless gamble that didn't account for trench warfare or total war from the start.
Unlike his grandfather Wilhelm I, who had his own Moltke, Wilhelm II's hopes for his "Little Moltke" were misplaced. The nephew was no genius like his uncle—at best, he was a mediocre general.
And World War I was no war for a mediocre leader. That was all there was to it.
"You don't seem to have any strong objections to Moltke taking over."
"He's just short on experience, but he'd make a solid Chief of the General Staff. I'll introduce you sometime."
With that, Schlieffen rummaged in the bag beside him and pulled something out.
It was a piece of paper, quite large and folded multiple times.
"Anyway, there's something I've been wanting to discuss with you."
"Pardon? What about?"
"I've thought about it for a while, but with all your work on the radio and such, you've been too busy. But now that things have come to this, I figure it's time you knew. Oh, and don't breathe a word of this to anyone. It's top secret."
He pressed a finger to his lips in warning, then unfolded the paper.
"A map."
A map of Europe, to be precise.
But unlike a regular map, Schlieffen's was covered in a chaotic mess of lines and symbols over France and Russia.
I instantly realized what it was.
This was a war plan. Still in the conceptual stage, but unmistakable.
Schlieffen spoke.
"Let me ask you this: If war breaks out between the Triple Alliance centered on our German Empire and the Franco-Russian Alliance, how should we resolve the dilemma of fighting on two fronts?"
Schlieffen Plan.
The war plan devised by the brilliant strategist Schlieffen starting in 1905 for the early stages of World War I.
He poured his entire experience, talent, and life into it, making it incredibly detailed and complex. But to summarize it as simply as possible:
1. In a war between the Triple Alliance and the Franco-Russian Alliance, Germany would likely face France in the west and Russia in the east simultaneously.
2. To avoid a two-front war, bypass French defenses by invading through Belgium and crush France as quickly as possible.
3. Hold Russia in check with minimal forces, in cooperation with Austria-Hungary.
4. Once France is defeated, redirect all forces to capture St. Petersburg and bring down the Russian Empire.
5. PROFIT!
On the surface, it looked like a solid plan.
In fact, during World War I, the French military expected a German attack through Alsace-Lorraine, so the plan cleverly exploited France's vulnerability.
'Of course, if the war had actually gone according to Germany's plan.'
I've experienced it myself multiple times: reality never follows the plan.
No matter how well-crafted, any operational plan turns to scrap paper the moment war begins.
The Schlieffen Plan proved that adage perfectly.
"A short war is impossible right from the start. The conflict will definitely drag on."
"Why do you think that?"
"If war erupts between the European great powers, its scale will be unprecedented. Every nation will throw every resource and means at their disposal into achieving victory."
Total War.
The hell of the American Civil War, which Europeans had dismissed as some backwater affair, would replay on a vastly larger and more horrific scale.
Moreover, the France of World War I was neither the France led by Napoleon III nor the one that fell in six weeks during World War II.
Of course, with my preparations, the war might end faster than in the original history. But ending it by Christmas was pure fantasy—we had to abandon that notion.
"A world war will break out. A war to end all wars."
Though in reality, it ended nothing—but that's what I said for now.
I couldn't exactly tell someone who hadn't lived through World War I yet, "Oh, by the way, there might be another world war later."
Besides, Schlieffen was a patient.
For his sake, it was best to hold back on the spoilers.
"Europe today is a powder keg, no doubt. That's why I've been devising this war plan. But will it really escalate that far? Won't someone try to mediate before then?"
I shook my head at Schlieffen's question.
"Once war starts, no one will stop until one side is utterly crushed. When you stake everything, there's that much to lose. No—even if the government wants to end it, the people won't allow it."
"Hmm..."
The era when governments could control their people was over.
What was coming was an age of uncontrollable madness.
The moment anyone tried to halt the war, the fury aimed outward would turn inward on their own government.
Once war truly began, no one could stop it.
Not until everything was decided.
"Alright. If war breaks out in Europe, I'll keep in mind that it could turn into the world war you describe—and thus drag on. But that's not my only concern."
"You're talking about trench warfare."
At the mention of trenches, Schlieffen sighed and nodded.
Of course. He'd seen the trenches of the Russo-Japanese War with his own eyes.
Ignoring that would mean he had no brain at all.
Other powers might get away with it, but not the German Empire.
"As you say, that's giving me a real headache. If war comes, Russia—with its vast territory—is one thing, but France will definitely dig in with trenches."
"Yes. They will. The entire front could end up one big network of trenches."
"But can the German Army really break through trench lines?"
Schlieffen frowned at the map, genuinely uncertain.
Now I understood why the Schlieffen Plan, which he'd started sketching last year, was still just a concept.
With the trench problem unsolved, no plan would work anyway.
"It'd be tough, no doubt. Mobilizing all our artillery and mass-producing machine guns might help, but even that has limits."
"Exactly..."
"That's why I've been thinking about something for trench warfare for a long time."
"What? Why are you only mentioning it now?!"
Schlieffen forgot he was a patient and yelled at me.
Then he demanded I spill it quickly.
I hurried to answer before his blood pressure spiked and he collapsed.
"I call it the tank. Panzer."