Chapter 126
Chapter 126
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: The Time of Plunder (2)
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By February 1945, the plan to divide Germany was starting to take shape not just on paper, but in reality.
The Allied forces first began delineating the boundaries of their occupation zones.
Korea was allotted the areas east of the Rhine: Baden, Württemberg, Bavaria, and Thuringia.
The United States took the Rhineland, Saar, Ruhr, and Hesse regions, while Britain was assigned Lower Saxony, Schleswig-Holstein, Bremen, and Hamburg.
These boundaries were provisional, subject to future adjustments through negotiations.
Of course, most of the regions we'd carved up were still under German control.
Each nation first appointed military governors to the territories they'd secured.
I, too, pondered suitable candidates to send to our occupation zone.
"Anyway, I need to dispatch someone with real gravitas."
After much deliberation, I decided to appoint Senior General Shin Hee-beom, former commander of the Marine Corps, as the governor.
Senior General Shin carried weight in the military and, not being from the Army, posed no political threat.
"Come in, Senior."
"Prime Minister Lee. What business do you have with a man who spends his days fishing?"
"Have a seat first. Let's talk."
I handed Shin a cup of tea and broached the subject of the German military governorship.
"Me, as governor?"
"It's not that grandiose a position."
That said, it wasn't entirely ceremonial either.
The long-term status of the southern Germany we'd rule remained uncertain.
I was even considering keeping southern Germany independent rather than merging it with the Western zones.
Of course, mindful of local German sentiments, I hadn't finalized plans that far yet.
It took considerable persuasion before Shin accepted my proposal.
"If the nation needs this old body of mine, I'll give it a shot."
"Thank you, Senior. Korea owes you a great debt."
With Shin appointed as governor, I also drew up a list of top bureaucrats to serve under him.
While a few key staff under the governor would be Korean, most positions were filled by German collaborators.
"It'd be ideal to use someone like Adenauer."
Unfortunately, Konrad Adenauer, future chancellor of West Germany, was in the U.S. occupation zone.
After careful thought, I selected Arnulf Klett, former mayor of Stuttgart in Württemberg, as the de facto civilian administrator and chief executive officer.
On paper, Arnulf Klett was a clean figure: critical of Nazism and unaffiliated with any party.
He was perfect to serve as our public face.
"That settles the personnel. Now, onto the plundering."
I turned my mind to how we would seize German assets.
We were already plundering, but it had been limited to discreet abductions of a tiny elite of talent.
"If we plunder too crudely, we'll draw the ire of the Allies."
The Soviets had demanded an outrageous $28 billion in reparations from Germany, stripping everything of value, including industrial facilities.
That had earned them the West's animosity and sown the seeds of the Cold War.
Knowing full well what had happened, we couldn't repeat the Reds' mistakes.
Yet passing up this chance to grab industrial facilities felt like too great an opportunity to miss.
After wrestling with it, I came up with one idea.
"This should work."
"Summon the Central Intelligence Department chief."
For schemes like this, the key was making them look legitimate.
"You called for me?"
"As you know, acquiring equipment from Germany is crucial. It could shape Korea's destiny for the next century. When will we get another shot at tech and facilities like this? It won't come twice."
There'd be one chance when the Soviets collapsed, but I doubted I'd live that long.
"Don't worry. Central Intelligence has made every preparation."
"That's not enough."
"Pardon?"
"We need to do it so cleanly even the Westerners can't nitpick. Prosecute every company accused of forced labor or similar crimes. Seize their assets under the pretext of reparations to victims, then ship them out."
We'd cover the compensation ourselves.
The money was pocket change compared to our gains.
"It'll cost a pretty penny."
"To secure the justification, we have to eat some losses."
Once we hammered it this way, even the Yankees couldn't touch us.
Plus, paying off victims would build goodwill—a solid deal all around.
"Understood."
And so I launched a sophisticated plundering operation that minimized backlash from the West and German society.
Our friend Ivan, however, showed no regard for appearances.
Those fellows went about their looting with brute force.
They stormed factories, ripping out people and equipment alike, loading it onto trains, and hauling it east like savages.
They even stripped toilet bowls and faucets—anything that wasn't nailed down.
Modern nomads, straight out of a history book.
The more the Soviets rampaged, the better for us.
With Ivan as the comparison, our plundering would fade into the background.
"Always grateful, Brother Stalin. I'll bow twice toward the Kremlin."
Thanks to them, we could feast without drawing much heat.
The southern Germany we occupied was less industrialized than the U.S.-held Rhineland-Saar or the prospective Ruhr zone.
Still, by German standards, it was prime real estate.
It hosted Bayerische Motoren Werke—BMW to us—Mercedes-Benz, and Carl Zeiss optics factories.
Not to mention countless other firms.
We seized these companies' assets under legal pretexts amid wartime chaos.
We also quietly snatched up their engineers.
Owning the factories meant nothing without the know-how.
"Engineers are as vital as the factories. Make sure they know they'll be treated like kings in Korea. If persuasion fails, you know what to do, right?"
"Of course."
If words didn't work, force was the only language left.
From February to April, we gorged ourselves on Germany.
The looted equipment was shipped to Korea via Antwerp harbor in Belgium.
Meanwhile, Germany screamed in agony, battered by Allied jabs and Soviet haymakers.
The western front had reached the Elbe River, the eastern the Oder-Neisse line.
The elongated Germany on Europe's map was gone, replaced by a shrunken vertical husk.
Like the core of an apple stripped of its flesh.
As I savored this review of German delicacies and pondered our next target, a telegram arrived from the Foreign Ministry.
"Sir. We've received a negotiation proposal from Germany."
"What? Negotiations?"
Had Berlin lost its mind?
These war criminals should be prepping for trials, not bargaining.
Still, curious what Ribbentrop had bloviated, I had them fetch the telegram.
"Hmm."
The contents were no great surprise.
"To Prime Minister Lee Seong-jun. As Your Excellency knows, there was no enmity between Korea and Germany. Would our nations have turned guns on each other absent those regrettable events?"
That much was true.
We wouldn't have fought if I'd left them alone.
But that was beside the point.
"You'll recall, Prime Minister, that Korea and Germany once united under the anti-communist banner, understanding and respecting each other."
That was Park Han-jin's unauthorized deal.
I never agreed to join hands.
Don't rewrite history.
After pages of irrelevant drivel, Ribbentrop got to the point.
"By now, Prime Minister, you must realize the peril of the Judeo-Bolshevik threat. Those Reds loaded communist regimes onto freight trains and even planted them in Bulgaria after it switched to the Allies."
I'd greenlit that.
I'd proposed splitting Germany too.
"You must now acknowledge the value of Germany, which plunged into the anti-communist crusade. The Third Reich held out for four years, sparing Europe bolshevization. Once we fall, how will you stop their expansion? Reconcile with Berlin before it's too late. Stand with us on the anti-communist front. It's the only way to save both you and Germany."
Boils down to: We'll stop the Reds, spare us?
But even the Western allies wouldn't buy that.
Their stance was Nazis first, even if it meant letting Reds slip away. As if a few words would sway them.
"The fate of the world hangs on Your Excellency's decision."
I snorted at Ribbentrop's closing line.
Germany had clearly gone off the rails.
Circulating such nonsense as diplomacy proved they were in their death throes.
"Sir, shall we reply to the Germans?"
We had to respond.
Especially after all that desperate pleading.
I decided on this reply—addressed to Hitler, not Ribbentrop, to match the stature.
"To Führer of the German Reich Adolf Hitler. Your Reich is finished. Why not leave the rest to posterity and make a patriotic sacrifice for your nation? I believe one grand decision from you would neatly resolve everything. I await your commitment to the greater cause. Prime Minister Lee Seong-jun."
Stop the fantasy reversals and make the patriotic choice.
What did they expect, holding out for a miracle?
It was my final advice to this old foe who'd gifted me so much.