Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Mediterranean Theater (2)
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The direct confrontation between Italy and Britain unexpectedly escalated into a full-blown crisis.
“Germany stands behind us. If those British bastards keep pushing toward Turkey, ram them with our bodies!”
The Italian Navy mobilized warships to collide with merchant ships alongside them, causing severe damage.
Of course, the mighty British Empire wasn’t about to take that lying down.
“Pay them back in kind!”
On the same day, a British cruiser rammed an Italian supply ship that had come to support the dispatched Italian Navy vessels.
This time, it sank.
“Wh-what? Over a hundred dead?”
The Italian government was stunned.
They couldn’t fathom why these guys were being so hardline.
Weren’t these the same people who’d chickened out of war with Germany out of fear?
If so, they had no choice but to show them.
That messing with Italy meant going back to war with Germany.
“Request support from Germany!”
Mussolini now believed Britain would have no choice but to back down.
But.
“What nonsense is this? Handle your own problems!”
Berlin sent back word that Rome should resolve its own issues.
“This is betrayal!”
Mussolini couldn’t hide his fury at Hitler’s shameless backpedaling.
The moment Britain pushed back hard, the Führer was clearly folding.
Then what about me?
But at this point, with Britain already causing deaths, Mussolini couldn’t retreat easily.
Failing to respond toughly would shatter his prestige.
“Stop those British bastards somehow!”
Mussolini issued orders once more to block the British fleet with their bodies.
And another “collision incident” occurred.
This time, a British destroyer shielding a merchant ship took the hit instead and sank.
The death toll reached 150.
The repeated maritime disasters were more than enough to rile up the British government.
“Look at this! When we go soft on Germany, even Italy starts treating us like a joke!”
“Are we just going to let Turkey go without a fight? Is this the ‘peace in our time’ the Prime Minister promised? What’s the difference between Chamberlain and His Lordship?”
“The Prime Minister must take responsibility for this mess. Admit it—the Geneva Peace Treaty has failed!”
British Prime Minister Halifax couldn’t withstand the barrage from the hardliners.
“I take responsibility for this crisis and will resign.”
In the end, Halifax stepped down as Prime Minister.
The retreat of Halifax, the leader of the pro-German appeasement faction, meant the rise of the anti-German hardliners.
And Anthony Eden, representing those hardliners, ascended to Prime Minister.
Eden named Churchill as Foreign Secretary the moment he took office.
The shake-up in the British cabinet prompted movement in America as well.
With isolationists and pro-Nazi groups crushed, Roosevelt had no qualms.
Roosevelt explained the case for an Anglo-American alliance to senior Democrats.
“If we sit this war out, Europe could go fully red under the communists. Or if you oppose that, it’ll be Hitler ruling forever. Either way, Europe stops being our market—that much is clear. Does that serve our national interests?”
“Of course not. But are the British really ready to stand up to Hitler? They folded like cowards when they could’ve fought more.”
“The British ambassador confirmed it. Lord Eden isn’t the type to compromise with Hitler like Halifax.”
The congressmen were skeptical but nodded at the mention of Foreign Secretary Churchill.
If Churchill was in the cabinet, it carried weight.
Washington’s intentions were swiftly relayed back to London.
Anthony Eden was inwardly delighted by America’s proposal for an Atlantic Air Alliance.
If the clash with Italy escalated dangerously, American help would be indispensable.
Churchill couldn’t hide his joy either.
“The voice of freedom echoes from across the Atlantic.”
With America’s aid, victory for the liberal democracies was assured.
Now that America showed willingness to move, there was no reason to go easy on Italy.
For their own political positions, a hardline response was essential.
“Continue Operation Freedom of Navigation.”
No matter how the Axis raved, the British Empire wouldn’t stop.
As Britain turned fully hardline, Mussolini started to get cold feet.
Without Hitler having his back, staring down Britain indefinitely was daunting.
“Restrain from clashes for now.”
Mussolini chose to pull back before tensions peaked.
But he couldn’t withdraw from Turkey.
That would endanger his political life.
The Italian Army, already bogged down in brutal fighting in Yugoslavia, now had to wage a bloody war in Anatolia against the Turkish forces backed by Soviet and British aid.
It had only been a month.
Casualties in that month: 80,000.
Compared to the Soviet-German meat grinder killing or wounding tens of thousands daily, it might seem minor, but it shocked Italy.
“Your Excellency, this won’t do. We need to withdraw from Anatolia.”
Even Mussolini’s son-in-law, Count Ciano, urged retreat.
But too many chips were already on the table to back down.
Win big or go bust.
Mussolini’s choice was set.
All-In!
Mussolini ordered the four divisions earmarked for Yugoslavia and eight from the Yugoslav front redirected to Anatolia.
Italian Army Commander-in-Chief and Chief of Staff Marshal Pietro Badoglio strongly objected.
“Your Excellency, absolutely not. Pulling troops from Yugoslavia will let the guerrillas run wild.”
“Absolutely not, you say?”
“Yes.”
“Then go home and play with your grandkids.”
Mussolini had already been planning to sack Badoglio over his bumbling in Yugoslavia.
He replaced him with Marshal Ugo Cavallero, who would obey without question, as the new Army Commander-in-Chief.
He’d wanted to take the role himself like Hitler, but Italian military brass pushed back hard, so he dropped it.
After all, without Hitler’s track record, meddling in the army wouldn’t fly with uniformed pros.
Anyway, the new Commander-in-Chief Cavallero faithfully executed Mussolini’s orders.
“The Duce commands it. Move the designated units to Anatolia immediately.”
The Italian military brass seethed at this.
“That idiot Duce. Can’t wait to ruin the country.”
They began deliberately dragging their feet on troop movements through slowdowns.
Yugoslavia and the Anatolian front both bogged down as a result.
Guerrillas rampaged in Yugoslavia with reduced Italian pressure,
“Pasta wops! Don’t get your asses kicked like morons here—go back to Rome and lick the Duce’s butt!”
While in Turkey, without reinforcements, they struggled against Turkish forces bolstered by great power aid.
“Those bastards—real great powers?”
Even the watching Axis allies mocked the Italians.
Italy’s prestige hit rock bottom.
The Fascist Grand Council took the situation gravely.
“Communist riots at home this year alone: already 150 incidents. Some areas even have ‘liberated zones’ operating. We need to cut military spending and start rebuilding the economy, but now more war?”
“Who stops the Duce’s stubbornness?”
“His Majesty is uncomfortable with the current state too.”
Even among Fascists who’d backed Mussolini while Germany dominated Europe, open grumbling spread.
Mussolini wasn’t blind to it.
“Turkey’s a pipsqueak nation. With our modern tanks, planes, and battleships, why are we struggling like this?”
“The enemy’s no pushover.”
Backed by British and Soviet aid, Turkey was far from easy prey.
The Turkish National Army had mobilized over a million troops, outnumbering the invaders.
“Then use poison gas.”
Gas had always saved Italy in tough spots.
In Ethiopia, before Yugoslavia—gas pulled Italian forces through crises.
This time wouldn’t differ.
“Pardon? But it’s not just Turkey. The Soviets and British are behind them.”
“You think we’re in a position to worry about them!?”
Mussolini figured a little gas on interlopers wouldn’t cause issues.
“The Duce orders it. Begin poison gas attacks.”
Expeditionary Force Commander Marshal Rodolfo Graziani issued orders to use gas aggressively.
“Spray it!”
By aircraft,
“Hiss.”
By cylinders,
“Fire.”
By shells.
Italy’s brutal chemical warfare shocked the Turks.
“Those guys really see nothing before their eyes.”
Italy scored temporary gains with surprise gas attacks.
But they forgot one thing.
“We’ll supply gas masks and gas.”
Britain backed Turkey,
“Using gas openly on Turkey?”
And the Soviet Union, world’s 2nd or 3rd industrial power, could out-gas Italy.
Soon, Italians started choking on their own medicine.
“Gahk.”
They had gas masks, but gas fatigued regardless.
“Uh, shall we skip the poison gas like gentlemen?”
Italy belatedly proposed the Gentlemen’s Agreement,
“Yeah, eat this.”
But Turkey ignored it.
Casualties exploded in the muddy hell of war, naturally.
Mussolini no longer knew how to salvage the situation.
In the end, Germany was his only hope, sink or swim.
After agonizing, Mussolini summoned Count Ciano with resolve.
“Son-in-law, this won’t do.”
“So, you’ve decided to withdraw from Anatolia?”
Of course not—that wouldn’t be Mussolini.
“We need to declare a war zone in the Eastern Mediterranean.”
At least block British Lend-Lease to improve Anatolia’s fortunes.
Mussolini believed that alone gave him a shot at conquering Turkey.
Ciano was appalled.
It was tantamount to declaring war on Britain.
“Duce! They won’t sit idle if you do that.”
“But Germany won’t stand by if we’re pushed out.”
Mussolini decided on one last gutsy gamble betting on Germany.
Worried it’d sour things with Germany if it backfired?
Nah—the fool who guaranteed the steel pact under alliance was at fault, not the beggar asking for it.
Mussolini lit the fuse to the powder keg.