Chapter 150
Chapter 150
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 150
Chapter Title: The Great War
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A few days after the German Empire declared general mobilization.
Wilhelm II's speech announcing the war flowed from radios across Germany.
"I'll be back, dear."
"I don't need anything else. Just come back alive and in one piece."
Dieter, a man who had bought a radio at half price only to get smacked by his wife, embraced his tearful wife and children, exchanging what might be their final farewell.
Clutching his conscription notice, he joined countless other German fathers bidding goodbye to their families and headed to the enlistment center to defend the fatherland.
"Sons of Russia! Those Germans are eyeing the rightful territories of us Slavs. Now is the time for Russia, protector of the Orthodox Church and eldest brother of all Slavic peoples, to step forward!"
"Hooray! Long live the Russian Empire! God save the Tsar!"
"...I wonder if my choice is truly right, Rasputin."
Tsar Nicholas II muttered in a slightly weary voice amid the frenzied cheers of his subjects after finishing his speech.
He still hesitated about war, but the entire world except him craved it.
"Fear not, Your Majesty. The Lord protects both you and Russia."
"Yes. I pray that's so."
Nicholas II murmured toward Rasputin, who as always offered pleasant words with a smile.
He could only pray that the Lord would grant victory to the Russian Empire, as Rasputin said.
"This is deception against Marxism! Betrayal of the Second International!"
"Hear, hear!"
In the Reichstag, every member voted in favor of the World War's outbreak and war bond issuance. Shouts erupted here and there from the main opposition Social Democratic Party.
The primary culprits were Rosa Luxemburg, Karl Liebknecht, and the SPD's left wing, who held most of the dissenting shares.
Luxemburg cried out.
"We must oppose the war! We must reject mobilization against the German people! Will our comrades truly stand by and watch the banner of internationalism and class abolition be sullied by the imperial leaders' ambitions and the madness of nationalism?!"
"Then should we just watch the German Empire, our fatherland, crumble to that antiquated Russian Empire still mired in feudal remnants?"
However, SPD leader Friedrich Ebert—who in original history became the last chancellor of the German Empire and first president of the Weimar Republic—and Eduard Bernstein, along with most party members, remained coldly unresponsive.
If the German Empire lost to Russia, Germany's nascent socialism would collapse.
To prevent that, even if it contradicted Marxism, they believed they must actively support Germany's war effort—that was the view of Ebert, Bernstein, and the SPD mainstream.
"Comrade Kautsky! Do you think the same?"
"Hmm... Personally, I'm against war, but I think Comrades Ebert and Bernstein are right for now."
Even Kautsky, dubbed the Pope of Marxism, spoke so cautiously that Rosa Luxemburg bowed her head in despair.
Where had the solidarity of international workers gone? Were these truly Marxists?
'At this rate, the Second International is doomed.'
Not just Germany, but all of Europe was barreling straight toward war.
Fueled by the mad nationalism and statism Luxemburg had so feared.
"Very well. Then I shall no longer remain your comrade."
"Comrade Luxemburg!"
In the end, Rosa Luxemburg left the SPD with her followers.
The SPD split.
And it would never return to the old days.
"Your Excellency, general mobilization is proceeding swiftly. The German Army is already moving toward the Low Countries. You must decide now!"
"Even so, invading neutral Belgium..."
French Prime Minister Jean Louis Barthou hesitated despite Joseph Joffre's forceful voice.
The mad Serbs who killed Emperor Franz Joseph, and Russia stepping up for them—none were sane.
But with Russia as France's sole ally, escaping war with Germany was impossible.
That alone made Barthou want to spit blood, yet Joffre and the military demanded a preemptive invasion of Belgium to thwart Germany's war plan.
It was the last thing he wanted.
"We need bold decisions now, Prime Minister Barthou."
"President Poincaré."
Yet Raymond Poincaré, France's staunch anti-German 10th president, persuaded the prime minister as if this were their only chance.
"War is inevitable, and we cannot claim superiority over the enemy. To seize victory, we must do whatever it takes."
"Even invading Belgium?"
"Even invading Belgium."
Barthou bowed his head in thought.
But soon, for the glory of great France, he bent his convictions and made his decision.
"Commander Joffre, I approve the attack on Belgium. Bring victory to the fatherland, France."
No more words were needed.
Joseph Joffre and the French generals saluted in unison.
"Hooray!"
"Long live the German Empire!"
"German youth, to the front!"
"Oh...!"
Meanwhile, Adolf Hitler, now an art academy youth painting street scenes, could not hide his excitement amid the Berlin square youths cheering the war.
An artist is always thirsty for inspiration, and no place overflowed with it like the battlefield.
It was nonsense from an immature fool, but Hitler wasn't alone.
Absolute majority of Germany's young men, ignorant of war's horrors, sang only of its romance, yearning to fight for nation and glory like their ancestors in the Napoleonic and Franco-Prussian Wars.
Every one marched to recruitment offices on their own feet, a volunteer frenzy sweeping not just Germany but all Europe.
But Hitler's steps headed elsewhere.
Not fleeing like a coward, of course.
'The Prussian Army is a bit...'
Truth be told, as an Austrian with no fondness for Prussia, Hitler preferred fighting with the more kindred Bavarian Kingdom forces.
Boarding a train to Munich, that's where his feet led.
"A great war over just Serbia? Everyone's lost their minds!"
Downing Street was in utter chaos.
Who could have foreseen the assassination of Emperor Franz Joseph escalating into a war among Europe's great powers?
At least Prime Minister Herbert Henry Asquith hadn't.
"Germany demands our participation as allies, but..."
"..."
Downing Street fell silent at Foreign Secretary Edward Grey's words.
Unspoken, all present Britons were linked by the tie of reluctance, sharing the same thought.
'...Do we really have to join?'
Honestly, the German Empire hadn't even been directly attacked.
They might have hesitated even if it had.
"Let's declare general mobilization for now and watch the situation."
In the end, Britain held off deciding.
But they didn't know.
"Our unit moves to the Belgian border at once!"
"Move fast! We must strike first before the Germans arrive!"
The right to choose war had already slipped from their hands.
"What in the world is this?!"
"War approaches all Europe. Thus, the Royal Navy needs every battleship it can get."
"Listen, Minister Churchill!"
Amid it all, WWI's worst troll was seizing innocent Ottoman battleships once more.
"We're friends, not enemies of Britain! We've already paid, and our crews to take delivery have arrived. How can you change your tune overnight?!"
"Well, sorry for the Ottoman Empire, but since you're friendly nations as you say, you'll understand. Ah, of course we'll pay—100 pounds daily rental ought to suffice. What say you?"
'What nonsense is this, you bald pig bastard!'
The Ottoman naval officers here to take delivery inwardly cursed the blond bald pig thug before them, but they were powerless.
"Minister? Is this really okay? Didn't Hans von Choi, the German Foreign Minister, recently warn against provoking the Ottomans?"
Even the British looked concerned, as if this crossed a line...
"A stronger Royal Navy benefits Germany too, no? Hans von Choi's a sharp Asian; he'll understand my thinking."
Naval Minister Winston Leonard Spencer-Churchill's thick skin was formidable.
Thus, the Friedrich-class ships, completed faster than in original history thanks to the frenzy, were rechristened HMS Agincourt and HMS Erin from Sultan Osman I and Resadiye.
"Not content with killing the Austro-Hungarian Emperor, now Serbia drags all Europe into war? Everyone's gone mad."
"Afraid?"
"No, I've awaited this day! Give the order, Prime Minister Radoslavov. Just command, and I'll tear those Serbs to shreds right now!"
"Whoa, calm down first. Of course we'll join. But first, we should negotiate with our German friends how much Bulgaria gets, no?"
Vasil Radoslavov, starting his second term as prime minister shortly after Sarajevo, smirked.
The time for vengeance had come.
Annihilate the vile Serbs and reclaim stolen lands.
That was Bulgaria's mind, and Greece's no different.
"Your Majesty, give the order."
After King George I was assassinated on a walk in March, Crown Prince Constantine—now Constantine I—nodded at Venizelos's words.
Joining Germany's side was what he, trained by and mingling with German officers, desired most.
"Prepare to join the war, Venizelos."
No reason to refuse.
Unlike Bulgaria and Greece, the Ottoman Empire had many worries.
What they wanted most was reclaiming lost Balkan territories.
Yet Bulgaria and Greece, who seized their front yard in the last Balkan War, were joining as allies of Germany and Austria-Hungary.
Participating would gain Ottomans nothing, and siding with hated foes worse than ancient enemy Russia repulsed Mehmed V and Ottoman officials, tilting them toward neutrality.
"At this point, isn't sticking to neutrality best? We haven't even fully recovered from the last war."
"Yeah. Germany hasn't even pressed us to join. Let's just watch Serbia fall while eating kebabs."
Thus, the Ottoman Empire decided for now to observe and stay neutral.
"Argh! To let this golden chance slip!!"
Of course, Ismail Enver wasn't pleased.
"Enver Pasha! Enver Pasha!"
"Sigh... What now?"
"B-Britain seized the Friedrich-class battleships we were to take delivery of: Sultan Osman I and Resadiye!"
"????"
But the storm of the World War and the goddess of war had not yet turned from the Ottoman Empire.
"Then I'll head to the front, Cecilie."
"Yes. Go without worry, Wilhelm."
"Mm, Wilhelm. While I'm gone, protect Mother and your siblings in my stead. Got it?"
"Yes, Father!"
Crown Prince Wilhelm patted his son's head approvingly as the boy replied energetically, then boarded the train to the front with his brother, cousins, and fellow royals to fulfill noble duty.
"Sob... My sons are all leaving. All gone."
"Your Majesty, don't cry. All six will return safe and sound."
As imperial women waved farewell to husbands, Empress Augusta, seeing her sons head to bullet- and shell-ridden fields, could no longer hold back tears.
Even noble blood can't change a mother's heart.
"Big brothers will be okay, right?"
"Yeah. They're all tough as nails. They'll come back unscathed. Well, Luise, I'm off too."
Hans too kissed Luise and boarded the train west to the border.
War isn't just soldiers' business.
"Come back safe, Hans."
Princess Viktoria Luise, stroking her slightly swollen belly, waved to Hans departing on diplomatic mission.
Unlike her brothers, her husband would return soon.
Thus, every nation and soul in Europe made their choices.
All that remained was taking up arms and marching to the front.
The First World War had begun.