Night of the Long Knives, Part 3
Five thousand soldiers clad in charcoal-grey uniforms waited on the outskirts of Vienna. Ironically, the place where they had gathered was the very site where Shtal had conducted his first ammonia synthesis experiments. As the clock struck 4:00 AM, they slipped stealthily into the city.
"Move quickly, but do not let yourselves be seen!"
Speed and stealth were inherently contradictory concepts, yet they were the twin virtues that any elite force had to master. Lose even one, and the entire purpose of a surprise attack would vanish. Thus, the most elite units of the Imperial Army dispersed and rapidly infiltrated Vienna.
"Move in squad formations!"
"Avoid residential areas as much as possible! Advance through the dark industrial sectors."
There was a common prejudice that the Imperial Army was incompetent and incapable of fighting properly. That was a misconception. The Austro-Hungarian Imperial Army could fight exceptionally well when given the right conditions. In fact, Hötzendorf, who possessed a genuine talent for administration, had poured his heart and soul into training these elite soldiers. The only reason the Imperial Army had historically performed so poorly was entirely due to structural issues. How could men fight effectively when they couldn't even understand each other's languages?
But when operating as a small, elite force, those structural flaws vanished. Every single soldier participating in this operation was an Austrian-born German speaker, while anyone actually native to Vienna had been strictly excluded to prevent leaks. They communicated flawlessly as they slipped into the capital. At this very moment, they were every bit as formidable as the legendary German Army.
And yet...
On a factory rooftop, a pair of eyes flashed in the darkness before vanishing. The watcher slipped away, rushing toward the temporary National Assembly building where Shtal was staying.
"Hötzendorf's Imperial troops have begun to move!"
"They have split their forces in two. Half are heading this way, and the other half are moving toward the courthouse!"
I was watching the movements of Hötzendorf and his coup forces in real-time. They had moved at this ungodly hour thinking they were launching a surprise attack, but with the suppression forces fully awake and waiting, the element of surprise was utterly dead.
"Still, it seems he learned a thing or two about urban warfare during the Great War."
Did that old man finally awaken his military genius in his sixties? If he had fought like this from the beginning, we wouldn't be in this mess. Or perhaps five thousand men is the absolute limit of Hötzendorf's command capacity. It was the perfect number for a coup—roughly five or six battalions. After stints as Minister of War, field officer, and politician, it turned out Hötzendorf also had a knack for staging coups!
"At any rate, it makes things easier that the targets are all gathering in one place."
I could have defeated them piecemeal, but that would be too tedious. It would have been ideal to crush the coup beforehand through investigations and preemptive arrests, but even I didn't know the minute-by-minute movements of every single traitorous officer. Moreover, there might have been conspirators I hadn't identified. If the arrest plan went even slightly awry and the traitors scattered in all directions, it would be a massive headache. I would have to deal with a fragmented guerrilla war, just like during the conflict with the Hungarian nobility. Looking at Hötzendorf's movements now, I felt deeply relieved that I had coaxed them into launching this coup. If they had turned to guerrilla tactics like those Hungarian nobles, how annoying would it have been to spend months hunting down bandits slipping back and forth across the Russian border?
"Vice Chairman Shtal, how shall we handle them? Should we arrest all the soldiers who joined the rebellion as well?"
"Well, most of them were probably deceived by Hötzendorf. We should release them on probation. They are still citizens of the Empire, after all."
"And the non-commissioned officers and junior officers?"
"Aren't the platoon commanders just greenhorns who know less than an elite sergeant? Treat them the same as the enlisted men. But from the company commanders on up... there will be no mercy. They knew exactly what they were doing. Looking at the list of company commanders, they're all of noble birth."
"Understood. Then, regarding the battle with the rebels..."
I quickly raised a hand to cut off the National Assembly member. A battle? I recalled the Satsuma Rebellion fought between the Satsuma Domain and the new Meiji government. If I remembered correctly, the Meiji government had deliberately used police forces to suppress it. They couldn't rely on conscripts who were ill-suited for handling a coup or rebellion, so they deployed police officers of samurai descent who excelled in close-quarters combat. Now that I was in the position of suppressing a coup myself, I understood perfectly why they had mobilized the police.
"The word 'battle' is inappropriate."
"Pardon? Then..."
"They are criminals. Rioters. Their charges are desertion, insubordination, murder, arson... and so on. We are 'suppressing' them, not engaging in a battle on equal terms."
"Ah, yes! Understood! We will ensure they are thoroughly 'suppressed' and the officers are 'arrested.'"
"Please do."
I, too, had already prepared a force of seven thousand. Three thousand belonged to the Revolutionary Guard of the Austrian Agricultural Cooperative. Compared to the Revolutionary Guards of other cooperatives, three thousand was all we had. But that didn't matter. They were originally conceived as a specialized police force and intelligence network—akin to secret police or SWAT teams—designed specifically to suppress civil unrest that threatened the constitutional order. For this kind of 'unrest,' they were far more effective than regular soldiers. The remaining four thousand were... civilians. But they were far from ordinary civilians.
Was it about fifteen years ago? Back when the Stahl-Ferdinand Model was all the rage, and various neighborhood committees cropped up all over Vienna.
They even formed a committee with the mind-boggling name of the "St. Shtal Guard"—or the SS for short. They were essentially vigilante organizations that maintained street security, fought fires, and cleaned up the environment, primarily in the slums and working-class districts. Over the past fifteen years, the slums and industrial zones where these committees had sprouted like mushrooms had developed significantly, causing them to lose their original purpose. Nevertheless, they still faithfully served their secondary functions: the "fortification of Vienna" and "civilian administrative mobilization."
Of course, while this is incredibly useful for urban warfare... the true purpose of this fortification was never actual urban combat.
It was rebellion suppression. If a rebellion broke out within Vienna, that would be one thing. But when forces were trying to infiltrate the city from the outside, it was a completely different story.
"The 2nd Battalion has passed the main avenue and is approaching the courthouse!"
"One battalion is stealthily breaking through the residential district!"
The various Stahl-Ferdinand Model Committees scattered across the city were feeding information back to the National Assembly. This is literally a map hack. Now... shall we recall the memories of Alsace-Lorraine?
"The committee in charge of Vienna's 3rd District, ambush them in the factories!"
"A battalion is breaking through the 16th District? There's no detour route there anyway. Have all nearby committees and the Revolutionary Guard gather to block the road!"
Back then, Trotsky had issued meticulous orders to a force of barely a hundred and twenty men. Now that I was in the commander's shoes, I realized just how exhausting that was. In StarCraft terms, it felt like micro-controlling every single Marine. But the situation here was much better than in Alsace-Lorraine. The local committees and the Agricultural Association Revolutionary Guard moved in perfect unison shortly after my orders were dispatched.
In that regard, Trotsky really was a madman. How on earth did he pull that off?
Reports of events that had occurred a mere five minutes ago were flooding in. Conversely, it meant it took only five minutes for my orders to reach the field.
"The triumphal procession certainly helped."
Perfect cooperation between the public, the administration, and the military! Though they were separate organizations, they moved as if they were a single body. Even the civil servants on night duty at administrative offices were mobilized to assist in suppressing the coup. The fruits of over fifteen years of meticulous preparation were finally coming to light.
Splitting into multiple squads and platoons, the rebel troops navigated through the factories. They would regroup upon hitting a main avenue, only to disperse again into the labyrinth of alleys. Throughout this process, not a single squad or platoon fell behind. The rebel commanders felt a thrill of ecstasy at the flawless, elite movements of their men.
"O-Our Imperial Army is invincible...!"
"We continue our advance in dispersed formations. We will seize the courthouse in one fell swoop!"
It was almost bitter to watch. If the Russian army had moved like this? Vienna's palace and key institutions would have been seized instantly, and the Kaiser and other key figures would have been arrested without a fight.
"...Now I understand why Russia fell so helplessly into the hands of the rebels."
"Once we take power, we must reinforce the city's defenses first. Even if it's dawn... the government won't realize what's happening until the Chief Justice and the constitutional judges are already in handcuffs."
With such absolute confidence in their success, the commanders pressed forward. They reached a point about one kilometer from the courthouse. The dispersed platoons gathered one last time. Their next rendezvous point would be the courthouse itself. Once they occupied it and arrested the nearby judges, the Revolutionary Guard would be disbanded. Just as the commanders' excitement was reaching a fever pitch with visions of grandeur—
Flash!
"W-What is this?!"
"S-Suddenly...!"
A brilliant light, as bright as high noon, flooded the avenue. The soldiers, whose eyes had adjusted to the pitch-black night, winced and shielded their eyes from the sudden glare. But the visual shock was only the beginning.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
In the wake of the city's modernization, every window, every rooftop, every balcony along the commercial avenue... in places they had never even noticed, machine gun nests had been stealthily concealed. The machine guns spat fire into the empty air. Soon, a stern voice boomed from a loudspeaker.
"Drop your weapons and surrender. You are completely surrounded. Drop your weapons and surrender."
The rebels, who had been intoxicated by dreams of a glorious future, finally woke up to the grim reality of their situation. The soldiers and commanders, who had foolishly believed they were moving in absolute secrecy, looked around. Behind the curtains. In the depths of the shadows. Only now did they clearly see the silhouettes and the glinting eyes they had completely overlooked.
"T-They knew... from the very beginning."
"They were watching us the whole time!"
From the moment they had taken their very first step, they had never once been out of the trap. Shtal's eyes were everywhere, spanning every corner of the city. Elite Imperial Army? What a joke. They had simply walked straight into the web Shtal had meticulously spun. A commander frantically threw his rifle to the ground and raised his hands high above his head. In an instant, two entire companies were arrested. However, a few companies that still failed to grasp the reality of their situation boldly chose to resist.
In front of Shtal's estate, where the exact same scene was unfolding, a certain commander made a different call.
"The city has already fallen to the rebels! Fight back!"
"Those bastards must be here to arrest Representative Shtal as well! Subdue them immediately!"
As the commanders shouted conflicting orders to rally their men, Manstein, who was in charge of defending Shtal's estate, let out a cold chuckle.
"It seems they still haven't grasped the situation."
"Battalion Commander Manstein! Shall we open fire with the machine guns? Or we can use mortars to wipe them off the face of the earth."
"Where in the world does a police officer spray machine gun fire at common criminals? Just help these lawbreakers realize what kind of situation they're in. Fire the tear gas!"
Following Manstein's orders, the men fired a barrage of tear gas canisters at the rebels. Normally, in riot control, tear gas would be fired in a high arc. But these men were not protesting citizens; they were serious criminals who deserved the full wrath of the law. The Revolutionary Guard officers ambushed on the rooftops and inside the buildings aimed their tear gas launchers directly at the rebel ranks.
Thump! Thick smoke began to crawl across the avenue.
"K-Kuh...!"
"W-What is this?!"
Already disoriented by the visual and auditory onslaught, the soldiers were now hit with a devastating sensory assault on their respiratory systems.
"Fire the machine guns too!"
"Pardon? Battalion Commander! You said not to fire the machine guns..."
"Don't waste the ammo on them, just fire into the air. That'll make them crawl on their own."
Manstein added machine gun fire to the mix. Naturally, since the guns were aimed at the sky, no one was hit by the bullets. Yet, blinded, weeping, and choking in utter chaos, the soldiers instinctively threw themselves flat onto the ground.
"T-They're shooting machine guns! K-Kuh!"
"Choke... Get down!"
Anyone who has experienced chemical warfare training knows the agony. But the CS gas used in training is a heavily diluted version. The pain of pure, military-grade CS gas is beyond imagination. Feeling as though their lungs were collapsing, the rebels dropped their weapons and clawed at the dirt.
"We didn't even need to tell them to surrender. They're doing it all on their own."