Chapter 95
Chapter 95
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Disposal of Italy (2)
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As the Allies deliberated on Italy's fate, Germany was hatching its own plans to deal with the country.
"Duce. Why do you seem so drained? The Duce I knew was a man brimming with energy."
Hitler couldn't hide his shock at the sight of his idol in ruins.
The Duce accepted Hitler's handshake in a thoroughly deflated posture.
The eyes of the Duce, who had aged decades in an instant, no longer burned with the ambitions that once blazed toward the world.
"Führer, the old Duce died in Italy. I'm just an ordinary old man now. I beg you, let this Mussolini go. I just want to rest."
Hitler felt his affection for the Duce curdle at this feeble display.
Was this truly the man once hailed as the father of fascism, Mussolini?
The Übermensch, the last Roman—Mussolini—was he truly finished?
If so, there was no longer any reason to respect him.
Hitler cast aside the reverence and admiration he had felt moments before and spoke in a cold voice.
"Duce."
"Speak."
"Return to Italy and rebuild the nation."
"That's... I can't do that."
No matter how off-kilter the Duce was right now, he wasn't so far gone that he didn't grasp what that meant.
"Duce, this isn't a suggestion or a request. It's an order."
The Duce was stunned by the command from a man he had once seen as a mere follower.
But he no longer had the courage to stand up to Hitler.
After a long hesitation, the Duce nodded.
"If that's the Führer's will, I'll obey."
Mussolini had no choice.
He boarded a train and returned to Italy.
He set up his government seat in Salò and rebuilt fascist Italy under the name of the Italian Social Republic.
With that, Italy was officially split in two.
The Allied-controlled Kingdom in the south and the Salò Republic in the north.
To Mussolini, it all felt nothing but agonizing and pathetic.
The dream of a great Italy had completely crumbled and scattered during his reign.
This country would never rise again.
Mussolini sat blankly at his desk, lost in thought.
Yet the nation somehow kept running.
In truth, Mussolini was little more than a figurehead for the Salò Republic.
The German army had seized real control of the Salò Republic and ruthlessly exploited the Italians.
They had shown some mercy as allies until yesterday, but not anymore.
Italy's status was no different from Vichy France—a German puppet state.
A defeated nation, essentially. What was wrong with trampling it a bit?
The Germans' merciless plundering gave the leftist factions, already fighting against the fascists' oppressive rule, the perfect opening.
"Want to kill the Germans and traitor fascists? Join the Italian Communist Party!"
"No Communist Party, no new Italy!"
As the Reds gained strength, combat groups like the Garibaldi Brigade, Matteotti Brigade, Justice and Liberation Groups, and Patriotic Action Squads sprouted up like poisonous mushrooms behind German lines.
Even the Germans recoiled at their ferocious spread.
"With the Reds running wild like this, you expect us to suppress them with our forces alone? Absolutely not."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"We need to pick out usable fascists from the Italian army and use them for maintaining order."
The Germans didn't trust Italians, but with things as they were, they had no better option.
"Select them carefully so there's no backlash."
Field Marshal Albert Kesselring, the German commander, issued this order, authorizing the creation of the Italian Social Republic's armed forces.
The core consisted of Mussolini's traditional supporters, the Blackshirts, but various ragtag militias joined as well.
The problem was,
"Ah, aren't we going to hunt down the Reds?"
"Us? How?"
The Italian Social Republic forces were in no shape to fight the Reds, lacking proper training, organization, or armament.
In the end, suppressing the Reds fell to the Germans.
This created a vicious cycle, squeezing even more troops from an already depleted force.
Meanwhile, the Reds in Moscow were greatly encouraged by the situation unfolding in Italy.
Stalin reviewed reports of the Reds' explosive growth in Italy and tapped away at his calculator.
'If we play this right, we could swallow all of Italy whole.'
If the Communists took the lead in forming the postwar Italian government, that would be a win.
With some luck, they might even expand the Soviet empire all the way from Germany through Austria to Italy.
'That might be pushing it.'
But even if communizing Italy failed, the Soviets wouldn't lose anything.
Those Reds were homegrown locals, not seeds sown by Moscow.
Letting a few wild Reds get crushed wouldn't hurt the Kremlin.
In any case, letting Italy's chaos fester wouldn't do for the homeland of communism.
"Director Golikov."
"Yes, Secretary-General Comrade."
"Send orders to Switzerland: have them start making contact with the Italian Communist comrades."
"Understood."
As the Reds stirred, Britain didn't sit idle.
Britain had been maneuvering since before the ink dried on the Ankara Declaration, trying to tweak the agreement in their favor.
"The Kingdom in the south must seize control of Italy. For that, we need to greatly bolster its military strength."
"Will Prime Minister Yi Seong-jun agree?"
"We'll make him agree."
Britain bombarded Seong-jun with telegrams the moment he arrived in Pyongyang.
"Reds are setting up liberated zones in the German rear and causing havoc. Thinking ahead to the postwar era, shouldn't the Italian Kingdom have enough forces to crush those Reds?"
Eden assumed Seong-jun would naturally agree.
He didn't.
"How can we trust those bastards? The fascists need to face war crimes trials and be dealt with. We can't give them a chance to whitewash themselves."
Korea took a surprisingly hard line.
"Your Excellency. Think it over once more. Aren't you afraid of the Reds growing stronger postwar?"
Seong-jun was ready to reply, "Yeah, no."
"We are a nation that values justice above all. There will be no compromise with fascist war criminals."
Eden was dumbfounded.
Since when had Korea become such a champion of justice?
Would a righteous nation like that coolly invade and beat down its neighbors?
"Prime Minister. For the greater good, please yield just a little."
But Seong-jun wouldn't budge.
Far from yielding, he refused to give an inch.
The gentlemanly demeanor from the negotiations seemed tossed to the dogs.
If he'd known, he would've settled this in Ankara.
Eden regretted it too late.
As a result, unlike in the original timeline, the Italian Kingdom's forces weren't properly reformed into a real army.
Even when the British cleverly tried to turn them into auxiliary units,
"No, are you seriously putting war criminals into the army right now?"
Korean troops showed up, veins bulging in their necks.
"Ha. This is maddening."
Britain was stuck, unable to act.
In the meantime, excluding foreign armies, the Italian Communist Party became the strongest military force on the Italian peninsula.
Its overwhelming scale was something even the Germans dominating the north couldn't ignore.
The issue was that this Red expansion wasn't confined to Italy alone.
"In France and Yugoslavia too, the Reds are seizing the initiative. At this rate, all of Europe will go red."
The British cabinet sensed they faced a new threat before the war had even ended.
If they didn't deal with this red plague, they'd face a Red Napoleon after Hitler.
"We have to persuade Yi Seong-jun somehow. Get Free France on board too."
"But how do we persuade him?"
The British government had no choice but to make Seong-jun this offer.
"About that Italian fleet you mentioned before, Prime Minister—we've rethought it."
"Oh?"
"New battleships are fine too. You can donate as many as you want to the Soviets."
Better the navy suffer than Europe turn red.
It was a proposal wrung out with British tears.
"Then I'll consider it."
Seong-jun had no intention of just watching the Reds expand unchecked.
'The battleships are going our way, so it's a huge win, but the situation's getting dicey.'
After some back-and-forth, Seong-jun agreed to the Italian Kingdom army's reformation in exchange for handing four battleships to the Soviets.
Only then could Eden breathe a sigh of relief.
"At least it's not too late."
Any longer, and the remnants of the Italian army—meant to form the core—would have scattered beyond recovery.
With the Italian Kingdom army reformed this way, a north-south confrontation took shape on the peninsula.
For now, the Nazis kept their guns trained elsewhere, but once the common enemy, the fascists, were toppled, things would change.
'When that day comes, I'll drown those stupid imperialists in a sea of blood.'
'You Reds better breathe easy while you can. I'll slaughter you like pigs.'
Both sides ground their teeth at each other but smiled and cooperated when facing their nominal foe, the fascists.
The scene strikingly resembled the pre-war handshake between a chummy Stalin and Hitler.