Chapter 65: Iron and Blood, Golden Freedom (5)
Translated by Vine | Proofread by Lust
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< German Civil War – Iron and Blood, Golden Freedom (5) >
November 19, 1939
Central Poland, Warsaw, Capital of Poland
Polish President Ignacy Mościcki was in his office, receiving Lieutenant General Władysław Sikorski.
“Mr. President, you must stop the military’s plan to invade Germany. They are not the crumbling remnants of a defeated nation. Their civil war is ending faster than we anticipated, with fewer casualties than expected, and international opinion favors them.”
President Mościcki frowned slightly and stroked his mustache at Lieutenant General Sikorski’s words.
“Mr. President! The Soviet Union looms behind us. How can we even consider attacking Germany at this time! Marshal Rydz-Śmigły is overestimating our strength. While we technically won the last war against the Soviets, it nearly destroyed our nation. Why are you allowing these nationalists to lead us to another disaster, while the Soviets watch and wait?!”
After the exposure of Nazi Germany’s fabricated pretext for war against Poland and the outbreak of the German Civil War, the Polish Army had continued its military buildup along the German border.
Marshal Edward Rydz-Śmigły, Poland’s de facto ruler, had drawn up plans for an invasion of Germany, aiming to reclaim East Prussia and Silesia, once Polish territories, and preparations were nearing completion.
“Sikorski, I assure you, I share your dislike of these reckless nationalists.”
“Then why have you allowed things to escalate to this point? You orchestrated the removal of Prime Minister Sławek and empowered Marshal Rydz-Śmigły!”
Mościcki coughed uncomfortably.
After the death of Marshal Józef Piłsudski, the father of modern Poland, the nation had been ruled by a triumvirate: President Mościcki, Prime Minister Sławek, and Inspector General Rydz-Śmigły, each checking the others’ power.
While Prime Minister Walery Sławek was considered Piłsudski’s rightful successor, Mościcki and Rydz-Śmigły, who disliked him, had conspired to remove him from office and elevate Rydz-Śmigły to the rank of Marshal and de facto ruler of Poland.
And it was this same Rydz-Śmigły, with his hostile stance towards both Germany and the Soviet Union, who had led Poland to its current predicament.
“I regret the circumstances surrounding Sławek’s removal.”
Even after being removed from the premiership, Walery Sławek had remained politically active, gaining popular support and becoming Marshal of the Sejm (the lower house of the Polish parliament). However, at Rydz-Śmigły’s urging, Mościcki had dissolved the parliament.
Sławek had fought against Rydz-Śmigły’s dictatorial tendencies, but facing constant obstruction and harassment, he had ultimately committed suicide in April 1939, as the Danzig crisis escalated, despairing over the government’s disastrous course.
The senseless death of his rival, a man he loathed but respected for his patriotism and competence, had deeply shaken Mościcki.
“You remind me of Sławek, General Sikorski. Or rather, former Prime Minister.”
“I am a soldier, Mr. President. I served as Prime Minister for barely a year.”
Władysław Sikorski enjoyed widespread support from the military and the conservative and liberal factions in Poland.
He had briefly served as Prime Minister from 1922, achieving considerable diplomatic success and earning nationwide popularity.
However, even he, with his widespread support, had been forced to resign due to the machinations of the far-right nationalists and the szlachta (Polish nobility).
“I know you’re a patriot and a wise man. But you served as Prime Minister for only a year, while I have been President since 1926. That is the difference between you and me.”
Sikorski’s face hardened, but Mościcki continued.
“Do you know how many Prime Ministers have served during my presidency? Fifteen. Fifteen, including the current Prime Minister Składkowski. Poland has faced numerous crises during this time, but we have overcome them all.”
The Polish political landscape after World War I had been extremely turbulent. The average tenure of a Prime Minister during his presidency had been less than a year.
President Mościcki, who had witnessed countless Prime Ministers assassinated by nationalist terrorists or ousted by the szlachta, had adopted a survivalist approach.
While he disliked the far-right nationalists, he had never directly opposed them, which was why he had managed to remain President, albeit as a figurehead, while countless Prime Ministers came and went.
“As I have always done, I will remain passive. I trust God will protect Poland once again.”
General Sikorski sighed deeply.
“God has already protected us by stopping that damned devil, Hitler. And now we’re about to throw that away.”
President Mościcki didn’t respond. Sikorski turned away, feeling defeated.
–
November 19, 1939
Northern Germany, 4th Military District, Dresden – Eastern border of Saxony
“Advance, advance! Panzertruppen, the glory of securing victory belongs to us!”
General Oswald Lutz’s armored unit, consisting of Panzer IVs and Panzerjäger IIIs (tank destroyers), was advancing rapidly past Dresden, reaching the eastern edge of Saxony.
General Lutz, inside his tank, grinned as he looked at the operational map.
“That’s a unique approach. An interesting operation, that Manstein.”
Even to General Lutz, who had been ousted from the army for his radical views on armored warfare, Manstein’s plan was unorthodox.
Who would have come up with such a strange operation? And the High Command had actually approved it.
[General! Luftwaffe inbound!]
“Damn it, not again!”
General Lutz gritted his teeth. While tanks were the dominant force on the battlefield, there was nothing more terrifying than enemy aircraft raining bombs from above, destroying tanks with impunity.
[S-Stuka…!]
General Lutz closed his eyes tightly at the almost desperate radio message. He could only hope for minimal casualties.
He clutched the Iron Cross around his neck and kissed it.
“God, protect us.”
It wasn’t exactly a crucifix, but it was close enough!
The sounds of machine gun fire and explosions erupted around him, and the deafening roar of aircraft passing overhead sent shivers down his spine.
After the storm passed, a brief silence followed, filled only with the rumble of tank engines and the screech of tracks on the ground.
[General, are you alright?]
“Are they gone?”
[Yes, it seems so.]
General Lutz opened the hatch and looked around through his binoculars.
“What the…”
Despite the considerable Luftwaffe air raid, his armored unit was completely unscathed. The bomb craters were clustered along the sides of the road where his tanks had passed.
General Lutz stared at the Luftwaffe aircraft receding into the clear sky, then kissed his Iron Cross again and muttered, “I’ll have to get myself a crucifix after this battle.”
–
November 19, 1939
Northern Germany, 3rd Military District, Southwest of Berlin – 10th Army Defensive Line
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Walther Model, Chief of Staff of Army Group South, was walking alone along the 10th Army’s defensive line.
While it was unusual for a general of his rank to be wandering around the front lines, Walther Model had been known for his eccentricities since his time as Chief of Staff of IV Corps, so the soldiers didn’t find it particularly strange.
They simply saluted him with lifeless expressions as he passed.
Walther Model, walking along the defenses, frowned at what he saw. He slowly approached a group of men in SS uniforms and spoke.
“Greetings, SS-Gruppenführer. I am General Walther Model, Chief of Staff of Army Group South.”
The man leading the group was quite young, perhaps in his early thirties. However, his rank insignia indicated he was an SS-Gruppenführer, equivalent to a lieutenant general.
“Greetings, General Model. I am Baldur von Schirach, Reichsjugendführer of the Hitler Youth.”
While he replied politely, Model’s expression remained grim.
“Why are they here?”
“By order of the Führer. The Hitler Youth has been called upon to defend the Fatherland!”
Walther Model looked up at the clear sky, then down at the ground, and finally at the “soldiers” standing behind Schirach.
Teenage boys in ill-fitting SS uniforms, carrying outdated rifles that seemed too large for their small frames.
“Are they properly trained?”
Schirach’s face clouded momentarily at Model’s question, but he quickly recovered and replied, “Their loyalty to the Fatherland is unmatched!”
“Loyalty.”
Walther Model chuckled bitterly and grabbed Schirach by the collar.
“G-General.”
“You know what nonsense you’re spouting, don’t you? You’re sending these children to the front lines?”
A series of clicks echoed behind Model as he held Schirach.
Walther Model slowly turned to face the boys aiming their rifles at him.
“Do you know where you’re going? Do you even understand what loyalty means?”
The boys’ response was chillingly robotic, as if they had been brainwashed.
“Our loyalty is solely to the Führer and the National Socialist German Workers’ Party!”
“We gladly obey the Führer’s orders! Release the Reichsjugendführer!”
Model looked into the boys’ eyes, seeing no hint of doubt or fear, and felt a wave of despair wash over him.
They weren’t just parroting what they had been taught. To them, this was an unquestionable truth, beyond the need for judgment or moral consideration.
These boys, who should have been under their parents’ care, were willingly marching to the front lines simply because the Führer and the Nazi Party demanded it.
Even if it meant fighting against their own parents, siblings, and countrymen.
Walther Model released Schirach, but the Hitler Youth members kept their rifles aimed at him until Schirach gestured for them to lower their weapons.
“…This is madness. What have you done?”
Schirach avoided Model’s gaze and led the Hitler Youth away.
The boys marched away with mechanical precision, their eyes filled with contempt for the “defeatist” Model.
Walther Model, rooted to the spot, watched them go and muttered to himself, “I have served a criminal regime.”
–
November 19, 1939
Northern Germany, Berlin, Armed Forces High Command
“The air raid failed as well?”
Franz Halder, Chief of the General Staff, was pale, but the voice on the other end of the phone remained calm.
[Indeed, Chief of the General Staff. According to the pilots’ reports, unfortunately, the weather conditions were unfavorable, resulting in only minimal damage. My apologies.]
Halder, hearing the bad news from Wolfram von Richthofen, put down the phone weakly.
“We cannot stop their armor if they advance behind the 10th Army or towards Berlin. The LSSAH has yet to return to Berlin.”
Halder remained silent at Jodl’s words.
“Halder, what are you going to do?”
Wilhelm Keitel, Chief of the Armed Forces High Command, finally asked, but Halder remained silent.
As everyone watched him, Halder, after a long deliberation, made his decision.
“…We will withdraw the 10th Army. We need to establish a new defensive line behind the Elbe River. We will deploy all available troops from the Berlin Reserve Command to block the approaches to Berlin in case they advance directly towards the capital.”
The 10th Army’s defensive line, a network of trenches built and reinforced since the beginning of the civil war, could have inflicted heavy casualties on the enemy.
To abandon it without a fight… Halder bit his lip. However, consolidating their defenses, with air support, and achieving a decisive victory in a single battle was their only hope.
If General Sepp Dietrich returned in time, they might even be able to destroy the enemy’s main armored force.
“What about the 14th Army?”
Wilhelm List’s 14th Army was still facing Blaskowitz in Sudetenland. Withdrawing the 10th Army would cut off their supply lines.
Halder wasn’t foolish enough to believe in the air supply promised by that pompous Reichsmarschall, especially after the debacle with Paul Hausser’s SS.
“I will order them to bypass through Silesia and attack the enemy armor.”
It would be difficult, as Blaskowitz wouldn’t just stand idly by, but he couldn’t leave them stranded in Czechoslovakia, especially with their limited manpower.
The New Government’s forces, initially far weaker than the Wehrmacht at the start of the civil war, now held the advantage, with the defection of the 4th and 8th Armies.
“What will you report to the Führer?”
Halder felt a cold sweat trickling down his back.
“I will report after we defeat their armored units, sir.”
The Führer, incapacitated by pain and medication after his seizure, was oblivious to the situation. It was best to achieve some sort of victory before reporting to him to avoid further trouble.
Keitel, looking at Halder with pity, clicked his tongue and replied, “…Very well.”
Franz Halder, his eyes bloodshot, stared at the operational map.
This wasn’t a fair fight.
He wasn’t losing to Manstein. It was because of the Wehrmacht’s plummeting morale and the constant betrayals.
That was all. Manstein’s only achievement had been choosing the right side!
He wouldn’t lose to him like this, without a proper fight.
Halder gritted his teeth and began drawing new defensive lines and operational plans on the map.
< German Civil War – Iron and Blood, Golden Freedom (5) > End
ⓒ Carcassonne
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