The Noble Marauders (4)
Thanks to the efforts of the Stahl faction, the rebellion in Hungary was successfully suppressed. Of course, there was the minor hiccup of the Hungarian nobles, who had barely escaped with their lives, waging guerrilla warfare across Hungary's vast plains. However, the prerequisites for a successful guerrilla campaign are external support and popular backing. Naturally, everyone assumed the Hungarian noble rebels were a pathetic bunch destined to collapse without either. But then, the unexpected happened.
"Every nation has the right to self-determination!"
"Let us aid our brother Magyars, born alongside us in the Ural Mountains, the sacred cradle of the Slavs!"
The National Revolutionary Parties of Russia and Serbia had formed a bizarre international organization called the "National Self-Determination International," modeled after the Socialist International, and began supporting the Hungarian noble rebels.
"Those bastards just have to stick their noses into everything, don't they..."
The Hungarian noble rebels attempted an endless guerrilla war, trying to revive their ancient, primordial glory by burning down the farmlands owned by the Agricultural Cooperatives and turning them back into pastures. Even if they had secured "external support," they could never, in a million years, win the support of the common people. Still, Hungary was a land of vast, sprawling plains, with plenty of forests and marshlands for the rebels to hide in, so the rebellion did not look like it would be easily stamped out. They would gleefully raid the countryside on horseback, only to slip across the border or vanish into the woods the moment the regular army showed up. While not a mortal threat, it was incredibly annoying.
The suppression efforts owed a great deal to the hard work of Adolf Hitler, the leader of the Hungarian Agricultural Cooperative.
"In accordance with the teachings of our great Comrade Saint Shtal, the Agricultural Cooperative must also arm itself to defend the Stahl-Ferdinand Model!"
"Waaaaah!"
"You must come out for military training at least three days a month."
"Then what will our group be called?"
"How about the Agricultural Revolutionary Guards?"
A militia group with a terrifying name reminiscent of a certain rogue state in the Middle East had been born.
In industrialized cities like those in Austria and Czechia, the Stahl-Ferdinand Model had begun with vigilante activities in the slums. Consequently, it resembled an anarchist vigilante community, with committees divided by street and factory. On the other hand, Hungary? The Revolutionary Guards established by the highly centralized Agricultural Cooperative were far more centralized, akin to the Catholic Vatican. Unlike urban warfare, where chaotic squad-level skirmishes were the norm, open-field combat inevitably required guerrilla tactics and large-scale pitched battles, both of which demanded organic, coordinated communication.
...If those Revolutionary Guards ever decide to rebel, it'll be an absolute nightmare.
At any rate, under the pretext of blocking the Hungarian rebels, the Revolutionary Guards managed to avoid drawing the Emperor's ire. Since the group already existed, Shtal decided to support them generously.
"This is a tractor, a mechanical farming implement that first appeared in America. It's expensive and prone to breaking down, so we can't use it constantly, but it will be far better than plowing with oxen or horses."
Shtal used surplus military funds to purchase and supply tractors. After all, in modern Korea, it was perfectly common for the National Agricultural Cooperative Federation to run farm equipment rental businesses.
"We must lend them first to the areas in urgent need of cultivation and to our model cooperative members."
"Indeed."
And yet, seeing these tractors—capable of pulling heavy loads and traversing any terrain—the Revolutionary Guards, who were in the thick of fighting the Hungarian rebels, couldn't help but get ideas. After all, the tractors were to be lent to the places in most urgent need. And right now, the place in most urgent need was the battlefield.
"If we can just hold out through this pitched battle, we win! Securing this position will give us a supply route to Russia, establishing a foundation for our Magyar National Revolutionary Party to survive in the long run."
"The Revolutionary Guards are heading this way!"
"Unlike our elite cavalry, the Revolutionary Guards are a half-baked army with terrible equipment and nothing but numbers! We will crush them in a grand pitched battle."
The rebels' strategic choice was excellent. At the end of the day, they were dealing with a mere militia. The moment the militia became thoroughly armed and trained, they would end up in the same rebel boat as the self-proclaimed Magyar National Revolutionary Party. Thus, the Revolutionary Guards had never progressed beyond the level of a glorified vigilante group with massive numbers. In truth, their equipment was abysmal, and some were even wielding cold weapons.
"...Mr. Hitler. What on earth is this?"
"Ah, Representative Shtal, Comrade Lenin! One hundred thousand members of our Revolutionary Guards have gathered like this to vanquish the Hungarian traitors."
"Most of them don't even seem to have rifles."
"Ah, yes! Is our symbol not the sickle and the hammer? Therefore, we have armed about fifty thousand of them with sickles and hammers!"
Upon hearing that the Revolutionary Guards were going to suppress the rebels, Shtal had rushed to Hungary. He couldn't possibly grasp the true state of the Revolutionary Guards just by looking at reports on paper.
If Hitler harbors any ulterior motives, it'll be a massive headache. I can't know the reality just from paper, so I have no choice but to see it for myself...
In their own way, the Revolutionary Guards were doing a decent job of repelling the Hungarian rebels' attacks. But that was precisely the problem. They were doing it too well.
What if Hitler was secretly raising a rebel army of his own? Seized by sudden anxiety, Shtal had dragged along Lenin, who happened to have some free time, and rushed to Hungary—only to be greeted by a beggar army that made the Yellow Turbans look like gentlemen.
Shit, I'm not worried about a rebellion anymore. I'm worried they're all going to get slaughtered.
True to their name as the "Agricultural Revolutionary Guards," they had tied yellow bandanas—symbolizing a bountiful harvest—around their heads. It wouldn't have been a stretch to call them a Western incarnation of the Yellow Turbans. Even if the Hungarian rebel force was small, numbering barely three thousand, the gap in combat capability between militia and elite troops was so vast that the casualty ratio could easily reach a hundred to one. Even in Joseon during the late 1800s, hadn't the casualty ratio during the Donghak Peasant Revolution been around that level?
The Magyar rebels also sneered as they looked at the rabble of the Revolutionary Guards.
"Bwahahaha! Look at that rabble. They don't even have a proper line, let alone any formation!"
The early 20th century still carried the legacy of 19th-century line infantry. A well-trained army was one that maintained a proper line. In that regard, the Revolutionary Guards were merely a swarming mob, completely devoid of discipline. Regardless, the Hungarian noble rebels had dug trenches and set up machine guns, fully prepared to receive the militia. Even as a military layman, I knew exactly what would happen if peasants armed with melee weapons charged headlong into trenches fortified with machine guns.
"Mr. Hitler! We must retreat immediately and call for police reinforcements!"
"No, it is fine."
"Listen to me! Cooperative leader or not, if those people get slaughtered, you'll have hell to pay—ah."
I was shouting in a near-panic, grabbing Hitler by the shoulders, when I saw about thirty tractors lined up on the battlefield, rumbling with a heavy vibration as they rolled toward the trenches.
"The tractors I supplied... did they always look like that?"
Due to technological limitations, the tractors could barely match a human's walking pace. But with massive iron plates bolted to their fronts and artillery pieces towed behind them, they were practically crawling. And the towed cannons...
...were so old and decrepit they could have been put in a museum without anyone batting an eye. They were undoubtedly cannons that even the armies of the Napoleonic Wars would have rejected.
"Cooperative Leader. Where on earth did you get those?"
"They are 'spoils of war.'"
"Spoils of war?"
"Yes. During the 'Hungarian Peasant Revolution,' the reactionary nobles kept them around like ornaments. I didn't know how to dispose of such antiques, but when we tried firing them, they worked surprisingly well."
"..."
At any rate, the peasants advanced toward the trenches at a snail's pace, thoroughly concealed behind the tractors. Naturally, the Magyar rebels panicked at the sight of these bulletproof tractors roaring with engine noises that sounded like the wails of Satan. Of course, the quality of the iron plating wasn't great, and a concentrated burst of machine-gun fire could have pierced the metal and disabled the tractors. However, due to their absolute numerical inferiority, the rebels couldn't target every single tractor.
"Flank them with the cavalry! A single cavalry charge through their rear will scatter this rabble in an instant!"
Once again, it was a sound tactical decision. The front line was far too wide for a battle of a hundred thousand against three thousand to be contained. The Eastern Front of World War I was much like this; even with trenches dug, the front lines never truly stagnated. True to their roots as nomadic peoples of the Ural Mountains, the Hungarian nobles maneuvered their light cavalry with superb skill. Each horseman was highly elite, moving so swiftly they seemed to dodge bullets.
"We must form squares immediately and target the trenches with the artillery!"
"No, there is no need."
Shtal panicked once more.
I should never have entrusted an army to this bastard Hitler! Given what he did in my original history! Oh, lord, we're all going to die...
But then—*rat-tat-tat-tat!* In an instant, the cavalry charge was halted by a group of guerrillas who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Their marksmanship was so exceptional that they systematically picked off the commanders in ornate armor leading the cavalry.
"Who on earth are those people?"
"The nobles are not the only ones who inherit Magyar blood. Those men are sharpshooters whose ancestors hunted brown bears with matchlocks five hundred years ago and could shoot a sparrow mid-flight."
"When did you even train such a force?"
"Since the cooperative's farmlands kept getting raided by wolves, I decided to form a guerrilla unit within the Revolutionary Guards."
They might not have been trained soldiers, but they were, at the very least, master hunters. If wild beasts with razor-sharp senses fell helplessly to their hunting shotguns, what chance did mere humans stand? Their camouflage was so flawless that not only I, watching from afar, but even the cavalrymen under fire couldn't pinpoint where the bullets were coming from, throwing them into utter chaos.
Meanwhile, the tractors had finally crawled right up to the edge of the trenches.
After sweeping the trenches with a volley from their antique cannons, the peasants armed with sickles and hammers charged inside.
"Uaaaaaaah!"
"For Hitler! For the Revolution!"
"Comrade Shtal protects us from the heavens!"
Like a horde corrupted by the Burning Legion, the peasants charged into the trenches with a mad frenzy, completely heedless of their own lives.
"They're just feeble peasants! They can't possibly defeat us—*ack!*"
"Aaaah... No! Run!"
No matter how much the Hungarian nobles had trained in swordsmanship since they were toddlers, no master of close-quarters combat could overcome a hundred-to-one disadvantage in infantry melee. Furthermore, armed with familiar tools like sickles, hammers, flails, pickaxes, and hunting shotguns—all highly effective in a chaotic melee—the peasants utterly overwhelmed the gun-firing Hungarian rebels. And just like that, the Hungarian noble rebellion came to a hollow end.
Hitler was enthusiastically delivering a speech through a megaphone to the victorious troops, while Shtal and Lenin stood in stunned silence, staring blankly at the bizarre spectacle.
This bastard Hitler... does he actually have a talent for field command?
Of course, Hitler possessed even less military talent than Shtal. However, that lack of talent was strictly limited to grand strategy and conventional warfare between regular armies. Looking back at Hitler's early political career in his original history, it was actually difficult to say he lacked tactical talent entirely.
Come to think of it, didn't he spend his days leading the Sturmabteilung to clash with communist militias?
Conventional warfare aside, when it came to militia-versus-militia brawls—where individual charisma, cunning, and raw troop morale were the deciding factors—Hitler's talent was practically divine. To put it in perspective, while he might be a disastrous commander on par with Mutaguchi Renya in a conventional conflict like the Eastern Front of World War II, in a setting like the Vietnam War, he had the makings of the ultimate Viet Cong commander.
I picked up a much better asset than I thought. No... honestly, it's terrifying. Is this how Cao Cao felt when he grew wary of Sima Yi?
Hitler had always shown a knack for catching people off guard. After all, even though he ruined everything in the Eastern Front, hadn't he won almost every other campaign before that?
While Shtal remained speechless in sheer disbelief, Lenin's reaction was closer to awe and wonder.
Did he say the Russian Revolution must be a guerrilla war centered around liberated zones? So this is how we must fight.
Lenin, the era-defining theorist and professional revolutionary, began synthesizing a new revolutionary theory in his mind, drawing from Shtal's concepts and Hitler's tactics. How should a revolution unfold in a country suffering under feudal oppression—a backward nation that hadn't even undergone a bourgeois revolution? By establishing liberated zones in the countryside, securing the overwhelming support of the masses, unifying the party and the military, and conducting revolutionary activities centered around guerrilla warfare.
Decades ahead of schedule, the revolutionary tactics of China and Cuba were being conceived by Lenin at this very moment.