Three Napoleons (3)
Why... why on earth was I here?
I was sitting in a first-class carriage of a train bound for Alsace-Lorraine. The generals surrounding me were all staring at a map, engaged in some deep, profound conversation. And me, watching them? I was just furrowing my brow as hard as I could and nodding along, without having the faintest clue what they were talking about.
"...Therefore, the French cavalry will continuously harass us along this plain."
"In that case, the French VIII Corps will do such and such..."
"Blah blah. Do you understand, Representative Shtal?"
"Hmm, I see. I understand perfectly."
"Excuse me, sir, but... you are holding the map upside down."
Surprisingly, the Armed Cooperative Alliance was not in bad shape. At the very least, they were far better than the Yellow Turban-esque peasant rebel army led by Hitler. Germany had always been a militaristic, conscription-based nation, and most of the Armed Cooperatives' forces were reservists who had already completed their military service. The combat capabilities of the soldiers, non-commissioned officers, and junior officers were certainly not something to be mocked as amateurish.
But the biggest problem with the Armed Cooperatives? There was an absolute shortage of generals capable of drawing up operational plans and maneuvering an entire army. Furthermore, because they had never originally planned to operate jointly like this, their organizational structure and mobilization capabilities were disastrous.
Well, that was only natural. Their most important duty, after all, was manufacturing artillery shells and uniforms for the elite German Army. A massive militia like this always carried the risk of turning into a rebel group opposing the Kaiser. Allowing a giant, independent reserve organization to possess high-ranking officers capable of moving them all at once would have been sheer madness.
Come to think of it, the Hungarian Agricultural Cooperative's Revolutionary Guard was a truly insane group as well. Of course, their armament and training levels were so abysmal that they were essentially nothing more and nothing less than a public security force.
"Which is why we would like you, Representative Shtal, to take command of the Second Cooperative Army."
"...Pardon?"
"It won't be difficult. Isn't Representative Eduard Bernstein the commander-in-chief of the Armed Cooperatives right now anyway? You can think of it as being similar to the political commissars Lenin talks about."
No. Eduard Bernstein actually had the qualifications to be commander-in-chief. At the very least, he didn't have to pretend to look serious while failing to comprehend a single word his officers said, unlike me. Besides, even if we were allied with Germany, why on earth was I being dragged into another country's war zone?!
When I expressed my strong refusal, Ludendorff spoke with an embarrassed expression.
"I heard you crushed Cooperative Leader Hitler and the Hungarian aristocratic rebels... Just having you with them, Representative, will boost the members' morale tremendously."
"Back then, I wasn't the commander-in-chief; I was practically just a political commissar. Actually, not even that. More like an observer?"
"If you insist, I will assign a highly capable fellow to you. He is one of the most talented men in the Armed Cooperatives."
And so, Ludendorff summoned an unexpected figure. I couldn't help but be even more shocked than when I had met Ludendorff himself. Why... why on earth was he here too? That goatee, that fierce and venomous impression, those round spectacles. Even without an introduction, I knew exactly who he was. It was Trotsky.
"C-Comrade Trotsky?"
"You know of me?"
"I've heard a lot about you from Comrade Lenin. What are you doing here?"
Due to the rampage of the Russian National Revolutionary Party—which had now become the Russian Black Army—the Russian Communist Party had been utterly wiped out. This was especially true for the Bolsheviks, the radical revolutionary faction. In the end, the Bolsheviks had scattered across the globe like the Jewish diaspora, working in their respective fields of expertise. After all, weren't both Lenin and Stalin currently working in France and Bosnia?
Trotsky was no different from Lenin. However, possessing military talent, Trotsky had come to Berlin instead of Vienna, unlike in the original history. After hanging around with Rosa Luxemburg, with whom he got along famously, he had somehow ended up drifting into the Armed Cooperatives.
"Why did you go to Berlin instead of coming to Vienna?"
"Stahlism is ultimately a reactionary ideology that compromises with capitalists. It isn't even Marxism to begin with, is it? Stahlism is so insidious that even Comrade Lenin turned renegade and founded a pseudo-theory. I could never go to such a place."
"Hmm... isn't the German Empire also an autocratic, feudal state?"
"Once we crush those French frogs in Alsace-Lorraine, I am leaving for Warsaw with Rosa Luxemburg."
"Ah, yes, yes. Of course."
It was like looking at Lenin back when he was still a wild horse, before he had been fully tamed by the grace of Stahlism. In terms of sheer contrarianism, this guy was even worse. He himself was working in the German Empire, a pseudo-North Korea that was far worse than the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Indeed. Is enduring such contradictions what the Bolshevik revolution is all about?
In the end, feeling like a cow being dragged to the slaughterhouse, I boarded the train bound for Alsace-Lorraine. A massive army of no less than 400,000 men was heading to Alsace-Lorraine by train. Hmm... is "slaughterhouse" really the right word?
After traveling for days on end, we finally arrived in Elsass-Lothringen—or Alsace-Lorraine, as the French called it. Alsace-Lorraine was a natural fortress. Three major cities—Mulhouse, Colmar, and Strasbourg—were densely clustered within a hundred kilometers of each other. These metropolises were shielded by hills and forests to the northwest facing France, the neutral territory of Switzerland and the Alps to the south, and the Rhine River to the east.
No wonder Ludendorff had been so confident. Furthermore, he hadn't gone through all that trouble to secure Shtal's participation for nothing. The anti-German sentiment in the Alsace-Lorraine region was far from negligible. Some radical citizens were even prepared to openly engage in espionage.
However, the moment news broke that Shtal had arrived, public sentiment in Alsace-Lorraine began to shift dramatically.
"Those German dogs! Do not cooperate with them under any circumstances when they arrive!"
"...But I heard the army coming to defend us this time isn't the German military? They say volunteers are coming from cooperatives all over Germany!"
"What? Wait! Aren't Louis and Jules also part of the Coal Guerrilla Cooperative?"
"Exactly. And aren't you in the City Hall Administrative Cooperative too?"
While the ruthless German Imperial Army faced widespread hostility in Alsace-Lorraine, the local population harbored far less animosity toward the Armed Cooperatives. After all, they themselves belonged to the various cooperatives scattered across Germany. Although the citizens were well aware that these cooperatives were merely a scheme to subordinate capitalists to the state, it was also true that they had received immense benefits from them.
"Thanks to those Armed Cooperatives, at least we don't have to work twelve hours a day anymore."
"Well, that's only true for the Textile Cooperative. I heard the Coal Cooperative isn't quite there yet."
"Still, they have schools run directly by the cooperative. At least their children will be able to escape the coal mines. Maybe that's for the best."
Several cooperatives had successfully extracted promises of significant labor condition improvements from the capitalists. Naturally, when the workers armed themselves with rifles, bayonets, and even artillery, the capitalists feared for their very lives. Indeed, nothing improved working conditions faster than a pointed threat of violence. Even the cooperatives that failed to achieve meaningful breakthroughs at least banded together to establish schools and clinics, heavily influenced by the Stahl-Ferdinand Model.
And in the midst of all this, Shtal had arrived as the commander of the cooperative forces.
"O-Oh! It's Shtal! The Shtal of Stahlism has arrived!"
"Waaaaaaah!"
Cheers erupted from all directions just from Shtal walking down the street. After all, hadn't the lives of the working class directly improved under the banner of Stahlism? Even those who hadn't personally benefited from the cooperatives were more than ready to cheer for a celebrity of his stature.
To this extent?
Of course, this kind of adulation wasn't entirely unfamiliar. Whenever Shtal appeared in Vienna, Budapest, Prague, or Sarajevo, he was treated like a superstar. But receiving this kind of celebrity treatment in a completely foreign, French-speaking land felt bizarre. Still, since he was receiving such a warm welcome, it was only right to return the favor. After dumping all military duties onto Trotsky, Shtal spent the next three days tirelessly touring the city and delivering street speeches.
The civil-military operation was a resounding success. Simply by Shtal showing up, the narrative of the conflict was completely transformed from "French Liberators vs. German Invaders" to "Warmongering France vs. Cooperative Germany." On top of the sudden influx of volunteers that completely paralyzed military administration, gaining an absolute advantage in the intelligence war across Alsace-Lorraine was a welcome bonus.
"I came to let you know because it seemed strange to see clouds of dust rising in the distance over there."
"Ah! Thank you. Here is a piece of paper. Please write down the time, location, and everything else you witnessed."
"I don't know how to write, sir."
"That is quite alright! I learned how to write through the cooperative myself. Here, I will write you a letter of recommendation. Once the battle is over, go to the Mining Cooperative. A few people will be staying behind to expand the school a bit."
It took only a few days for Alsace-Lorraine to become a stronghold for the Armed Cooperatives. And now, the time had come for the Armed Cooperatives to face the madly charging French army.
"We continue our march at this speed!"
"Past Alsace-Lorraine and straight to Frankfurt in just one month! We will crush the German army in a single month, and bring down Berlin within a fortnight!"
Due to the Schlieffen Plan and the future Sickle Cut plan, "rapid assault" and "blitzkrieg" are often considered exclusive specialties of Germany. However, the French army, though differing in methodology, also favored rapid advances and charges under their offensive doctrine known as élan vital.
"General! The heavy wagons are all falling behind. The supply lines cannot keep up!"
"Four corps have been left stranded in the rear! We must slow down our advance."
The French army, fueled by élan, was pushing forward at an unprecedented speed—comparable to King Seonjo fleeing to Sinuiju during the Japanese invasions. Naturally, it was a pace that left not only supplies but entire divisions stranded in the rear. Their advance was so ridiculously fast that they were abandoning broken-down armored cars and heavy artillery along the roads just to keep marching!
"No! We must move quickly before the German army can recover."
"But this is far too fast, sir."
"It cannot be helped. Even if the Armed Cooperatives are a ragtag army, if they hole up in fortresses and solidify their defensive lines, we will lose precious time! If we are to rest, we will rest after we occupy Alsace-Lorraine."
As the commander of the First Army, Auguste Dubail's judgment was not entirely flawed. The French army was plagued by a double time limit. First, they had to secure a decisive advantage before the German army could recover from the chaos caused by their botched mobilization. Second, they had to break through Alsace-Lorraine before the Armed Cooperatives could familiarize themselves with the terrain and dig trenches. Thus, they ran, abandoning even the Second Army and other field forces in their wake.
Of course, Auguste Dubail was a veteran general who had seen his share of battle in France. A dark premonition flickered in a corner of his chest, but he forced himself to ignore it, splitting his forces to race toward Mulhouse and Strasbourg.
"General Dubail. What if those Armed Cooperative bastards use the cities to wage urban warfare?"
Years had already passed since Shtal predicted the Great War. Germany had developed all kinds of urban warfare tactics to rapidly subdue Paris. Even Auguste Dubail, outdated as he was, vaguely understood that urban warfare was no simple matter.
"It doesn't matter. Urban warfare is a fool's game. You cannot wage urban warfare without the support of the local populace."
Alsace-Lorraine spoke a different language and belonged to a different culture. There was no telling when soldiers might be stoned to death by an angry mob. Unless Ludendorff was an idiot, there was no way he would attempt urban warfare. Once again, Auguste Dubail's reasoning was sound. He simply didn't know that Shtal was in the city.
Yet, aside from taking sporadic hits from guerrilla forces in the nearby mountains, the French army reached the city gates without fighting a single pitched battle. They were clearly preparing for urban warfare.
"...Ludendorff. They said his military genius was extraordinary, but is this really the best he can do?"
Without having the slightest clue what kind of hell awaited them inside, Auguste Dubail pushed his army of 200,000 men into the city without proper fire support. Having stripped away all the advantages of a regular army through their mind-bogglingly rapid maneuver, they were marching straight into the gates of hell of their own accord.