Chapter 18: Interwar Period – Encounters
Translated by Vine | Proofread by Lust
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November 5, 1937
Reich Chancellery, Berlin, Germany
The highest-ranking members of the German military were gathered in the meeting room of the Reich Chancellery.
“How have you been, Field Marshal von Blomberg?”
“Can’t complain. All thanks to you, Generalfeldmarschall Göring.” Defense Minister Werner von Blomberg replied playfully to the Commander-in-Chief of the Luftwaffe, Hermann Göring.
They had developed a rapport since the early days of the Nazi regime, through events like the Night of the Long Knives.
Grand Admiral Erich Raeder, Commander-in-Chief of the Kriegsmarine, who kept a certain distance from the Nazis, remained silent.
“By the way, Generalfeldmarschall Göring, do you know why we’re having this unofficial meeting?” Commander-in-Chief of the Army, Generaloberst Werner von Fritsch, asked.
Göring smiled smugly. “Because our glorious Führer has finally devised a solution to Germany’s problems!”
“A solution…?”
It was Baron Konstantin von Neurath, the Foreign Minister, the only one present not directly affiliated with the military, who spoke. His voice held a hint of apprehension, a silent what crazy scheme is he concocting now?
Göring, oblivious, let out a hearty laugh, “Hahaha, yes! It is…”
He was interrupted by the opening of the door. The person who would explain everything had arrived.
Hitler entered, greeted by salutes from everyone present. He beamed, clearly in high spirits. “Ah, I’ve kept you all waiting, haven’t I? Thank you for coming.”
He gestured for them to sit and took his own seat. Then, addressing the curious high-ranking officials of Germany, he declared, “We, the great German Reich, will invade Austria and Czechoslovakia.”
“Oh, as expected of our Führer!”
“W… what?!”
Unlike Göring, who praised Hitler’s supposed brilliance, the others were stunned.
“Therefore, I expect the Defense Minister and the Commanders-in-Chief to draft and submit operational plans. I intend to secure both countries within the next year.”
“P… please wait, mein Führer! I agree with securing Austria and Czechoslovakia, as they were historically part of Germany since the Holy Roman Empire. But we’ve only just officially begun rearmament three years ago!”
“And? What’s the problem, Defense Minister?” Hitler questioned Blomberg’s desperate plea.
Blomberg looked around for support, but no one seemed willing to step forward. He swallowed nervously, “With all due respect, our armed forces have barely begun to take shape. It will take until 1942 to complete rearmament and restore the former glory of the German military.”
“What?! 1942?! You want me to wait another four years? Germany has waited long enough! The Great War, the Treaty of Versailles, the provocations of those Jewish-Bolsheviks! It’s time to act, Defense Minister.”
“B… but…”
“But what? The might of the German military has already been proven in the Spanish Civil War! Neither the Reds, supported by that cursed Soviet Union, nor the International Brigades of those democrats could withstand the Condor Legion! We are stronger than Mussolini’s steel legions!”
The Condor Legion was a small, well-equipped force, receiving preferential treatment in terms of resources. It would have been strange if they *hadn’t* performed well. Blomberg didn’t dare point that out, and remained silent.
“B… but mein Führer, the army lacks even basic equipment, like rifles and ammunition. We simply don’t have the time or resources to equip all our troops…” Fritsch interjected.
“Then tell the arms manufacturers to produce more. We can pay them with MEFO bills after we win the war.” Hitler was unwavering.
The MEFO bills were Hjalmar Schacht’s creation. They were a means to conceal Germany’s rearmament from Britain and France, and to avoid inflation, as military spending increased. The government purchased arms from manufacturers with these bills, essentially IOUs, promising to pay later.
But they had overused this system, pushing the German economy to the brink of collapse.
“Mein Führer, the total value of MEFO bills has already exceeded 20 billion Reichsmarks. As former Minister Schacht warned, if we issue more, the government won’t be able to…”
“Enough! I’ve heard enough of your defeatist talk! Always about the economy, the economy! When will Germany’s economy recover, when will our military be rebuilt, when will we achieve a glorious Germany?! We’ll simply seize their taxes and gold reserves after we win the war and pay them off!”
Hitler silenced Fritsch with his outburst, then turned to Göring, “Of course, the Führer is right! The Luftwaffe will dedicate itself to formulating the operational plan!”
“That’s the spirit I expect from the Commander-in-Chief of one of the branches of the Wehrmacht! What about the Kriegsmarine, Admiral Raeder?”
Raeder frowned slightly, “Austria and Czechoslovakia are both landlocked countries. The Kriegsmarine won’t be directly involved, mein Führer.”
Hitler, pleased with Raeder’s apparent agreement, frowned again at his next words, “However, if Britain intervenes, the Kriegsmarine won’t be able to challenge their naval supremacy. Plan Z is still in its initial stages, mein Führer.”
Plan Z, the Kriegsmarine’s ambitious and unrealistic plan to build a massive surface fleet, including cruisers, battleships, and aircraft carriers, to rival the Royal Navy, was surprisingly still in progress, fueled by the navy’s outdated belief in big-gun warships and Hitler’s optimistic outlook.
The reality, however, was grim. The Bismarck, the iconic battleship of World War II, had just begun construction, and the Scharnhorst-class battleships, which would lead the German surface fleet until Bismarck’s commissioning, hadn’t even been commissioned yet.
Raeder, as Commander-in-Chief of a navy that couldn’t challenge the Royal Navy, was understandably concerned. Hitler, annoyed, dismissed his concerns, “Britain won’t intervene.”
“What? B… but, mein Führer…” Neurath protested, but Hitler was certain.
“They won’t dare oppose us, just like they didn’t during the Rhineland remilitarization. The plan will proceed as scheduled, Admiral.”
“B… but mein Führer, the situation is different from the Rhineland…”
“You opposed it then too, Baron! Why can’t you see that Britain and France are all bark and no bite?!”
Hitler shouted Neurath down. Raeder had no choice but to acquiesce, “…If we avoid a war with Britain, the navy has no objections.”
Hitler turned his gaze back to Blomberg and Fritsch, the key figures in the planned invasions of Austria and Czechoslovakia.
They could only sigh.
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—
“How did it go, Senior?”
Generalfeldmarschall Hermann Göring, Commander-in-Chief of the Luftwaffe, emerged from the secret meeting at the Reich Chancellery. He smiled wryly at his “junior,” “Blomberg and Fritsch opposed it to the very end.”
“Our Führer must be deeply troubled. They’ll be out of favor now, and won’t last long.”
Göring shook his head at the words of Reichsführer-SS Heinrich Himmler, “I doubt it. The Führer still favors Blomberg.”
“Is that so…?”
The Nazi high command was notorious for its infighting and power struggles, but Göring, despite his strange fascination with Norse mythology, had a certain fondness for Himmler, who treated him with respect.
“It’s frustrating. The Führer is surprisingly sentimental.”
Göring and Himmler began walking, discussing matters that would horrify future generations.
“…Perhaps we could alleviate our Führer’s concerns, Senior?”
“How?” Göring’s eyes lit up at Himmler’s suggestion.
Himmler smiled sinisterly, “If we dig deep enough, we’ll find something to use against them. I have a rather competent subordinate, Reinhard Heydrich. I’ll introduce you sometime.”
“Oh, I can count on you, then. If we remove those cowardly, pompous fools, I might become a field marshal myself, and you could elevate the SS to rival the Wehrmacht.”
“You understand me perfectly, Senior. Hahaha!”
Thus began the plotting of the Blomberg-Fritsch Affair, the starting point of the purge of the German military high command and the removal of the restraints on Germany’s path to war.
—
December 10, 1937
Berlin War College, Berlin, Germany
“The era of trench warfare, of bleeding for small gains, is over, gentlemen.”
Despite the lecturer being a rising figure among young panzer officers, the attendance was lower than expected. It was a testament to the skepticism with which his theories were still viewed by much of the army.
“Panzer divisions will exploit weaknesses in the enemy lines and achieve rapid breakthroughs, followed by motorized infantry, expanding the breach and overwhelming the enemy before they can react. These will be the key elements of maneuver warfare in the future battlefield.”
Generalmajor Heinz Guderian enthusiastically explained the outline of his maneuver warfare concept to the future officers of the German army.
Later generations would call it “Blitzkrieg,” but the term didn’t exist in the German military yet.
“We must discard the outdated conventions of past wars. Artillery, once hailed as the god of war, is too slow for mobile warfare, and will be relegated to defensive roles. The air force, the ‘flying artillery,’ will take over its offensive role, and commanders will lead from the front, in their tanks, observing the battlefield firsthand and making swift, flexible decisions.”
How many of the officers present could truly grasp Guderian’s vision?
Guderian, sensing the general lack of comprehension, chuckled wryly, “Well, it might seem difficult now. Don’t worry, this is just an overview. We’ll delve into more practical aspects later.”
The officers groaned as they realized the lecture was ending. Guderian grinned and dismissed them, “I’ll see you next time, gentlemen.”
“Yes, sir! Thank you!”
Guderian, who would later be hailed as the father of German armored warfare, but was currently just a proponent of unconventional theories, left the room. He turned to Captain Roger Michael, sitting next to him, “So… did you understand any of that?”
“…Not really… I thought I was smart, but maybe not…”
Michael, like him, had been recommended by Model and was now a fellow student at the War College.
They weren’t as close as he and Clemens had been, but…
“Well, it’s a lecture Model recommended, so we have to attend, whether we understand it or not.”
“Hahaha… True. See you next week, Captain Michael.”
“You too. Have a good weekend, Captain Schacht.”
Time flew by at the War College. In addition to the regular faculty, they often had guest lecturers, active commanders in the field. Many of the famous generals of World War II visited and lectured the future leaders of the German army.
Of course, these aspiring General Staff officers, dreaming of a bright future, would be thrown into the hell of World War II before completing their training. Those who survived would face war crimes trials, witness the division of their homeland, and the dismantling of their beloved army.
Model, even while in Spain, had sent him and Michael letters, recommending lectures and inquiring about their progress. He had also mentioned his own return to Germany in the new year.
He hadn’t realized Model had been involved in the Spanish Civil War. Apparently, it had been a brief deployment.
Wasn’t Model sidelined along with Ludwig Beck, the Chief of the General Staff, after the Blomberg-Fritsch Affair? He had wondered why Model, a rising star in the Berlin General Staff who had served as Chief of Staff in Spain, had taken such a backseat role in the early stages of World War II. So, that was the reason…
The intricacies of the German military, which he had only vaguely understood as a third-party observer from the future, were becoming clearer now that he was a participant.
Ludwig Beck’s dismissal was essential for the anti-Hitler resistance. He had to be disillusioned with Hitler.
His father had been dismissed, and Model, his connection in the military, would soon be sidelined. Was he really going to be okay?
His relationship with his father had improved somewhat. He had been visiting his parents every weekend, helping his mother and demonstrating his changed attitude.
He didn’t know exactly when the von Kleist Circle would approach his father, but he knew it would be before the Munich Agreement.
They had almost launched a coup d’état during Operation Green, the invasion of Czechoslovakia, led by General Hans Oster. Hjalmar Schacht had been involved.
He had to focus on the General Staff course and wait for the right moment.
Lost in thought, he noticed a strikingly beautiful woman walking towards him. She was a head-turner, with bright blonde hair and blue eyes. The perfect Aryan ideal, the Nazis would say.
It had nothing to do with him. It just reminded him of Clemens, who had ditched him for a date.
Why was she walking straight towards him?
“Good afternoon. Excuse me, are you Captain Dietrich Schacht?”
“Good afternoon. Yes, I am. May I ask who you are?”
“I’m Claudia Jung, from the Frankfurter Zeitung. Would you have a moment to spare?” She smiled charmingly.
She was so stereotypically beautiful, it was almost surreal. He had only seen blonde-haired, blue-eyed women like her in Hollywood movies. They were rare, even in Europe.
So, his answer was,
“I’m afraid I’m rather busy.”
Claudia blinked, seemingly surprised by his rejection. He smiled and added, “I apologize, Fräulein. I’ve been hounded by reporters since Spain, so I tend to avoid interviews.”
The Frankfurter Zeitung was a reputable German newspaper.
She probably wanted to interview him about the Spanish Civil War, his dismissed father, or both.
Did he exude some kind of reporter-attracting pheromone?
He started to walk past her, when she chuckled, “Aha, I see. You’re just like Havenstein said.”
Havenstein? That name sounded familiar. Ah…
“…Julius Havenstein?” His former Third Platoon Leader in the Condor Legion?
“Hee hee, yes. Now, are you a little more willing to talk?” Her smile was playful now, not the professional smile of a reporter.
…What was *he* doing here?
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