Chapter 72: For What Do We Fight? (2)
Translated by Vine | Proofread by Lust
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< World War II – For What Do We Fight? (2) – Paid Chapters Begin >
December 20, 1939
Northern Germany, Berlin, Reich Chancellery
Germany was in an uproar. The Polish surprise attack had come just hours after we declared a general mobilization.
Damn it. A surprise attack right after declaring mobilization, and we were getting crushed in the initial battles?
We could mobilize over a hundred divisions if we called up all our reserves, but that would take time.
Even if we rushed the reorganization and deployment of our troops, we had less than twenty divisions ready for immediate combat in Germany.
And half of them were trapped and under attack in East Prussia.
Poland, brazenly, had finally responded to our non-aggression pact proposal with a rejection, declaring war and claiming they were reclaiming their rightful territories, while their troops were actively invading our country.
“What are Britain and France saying?”
My father, his face etched with fatigue, asked the question. Foreign Minister Weizsäcker replied with a grimace.
“France and Britain have issued condemnatory statements, but that’s about it.”
It wouldn’t be surprising if France was secretly pleased with the situation.
“Britain has been buying up confiscated German businesses. Is that all?”
“While MP Churchill and members of the Anglo-German Fellowship have criticized their government’s inaction, Prime Minister Halifax has stated that while he regrets Poland’s aggression, Britain is not considering any further action at this time.”
Sighs of frustration filled the room. That damned Halifax, still clinging to his appeasement policy from the Munich Agreement.
“We’ve just declared a general mobilization…”
“A surprise attack! How cowardly!”
“We’ve become complacent after our victory in the civil war…”
The situation was so absurd that I could only laugh bitterly. After all the blood we had shed to get here…
Was this some sort of historical inevitability? Was Germany destined to fall, no matter what?
And to be attacked by Poland, using the same tactics as Nazi Germany in the original timeline? It was beyond belief.
“The Foreign Ministry should do everything in its power to secure Britain’s support.”
“…We will try our best.”
Foreign Minister Weizsäcker agreed, but he didn’t seem optimistic.
Perhaps we had ended the civil war too quickly. While France was always a potential enemy…
Britain, always seeking a balance of power in Europe, might have preferred a weakened Germany after a prolonged civil war, rather than a resurgent Germany pushing deep into Italy.
“…The burden on the Defense Minister and the military is heavy indeed.”
Defense Minister Field Marshal Ludwig Beck sighed softly.
“The damage from the surprise attack is considerable, but we will do our best.”
After all the effort to remove Hitler, we were now facing a war with Poland, potentially Hungary as well, on top of the ongoing war with Italy.
While I hadn’t expected the removal of Hitler to prevent World War II entirely…
Was it the Wehrmacht’s swift collapse during the civil war that emboldened our enemies, or was history simply repeating itself?
If there was a God who had sent me here, I wanted to ask him:
What were we fighting for?
–
December 20, 1939
Northern Germany, Berlin, Reichswehr Headquarters
“General Manstein, do you have a plan?”
Ludwig Beck and I sighed as we watched Manstein staring silently at the operational map.
The only good news was…
“I have ordered the navy to neutralize the Polish navy and secure control of the Baltic Sea.”
Admiral Erich Raeder reported with a satisfied expression. While our navy was relatively weak compared to the major powers, we still had outdated battleships, pocket battleships, and the more modern battleships Scharnhorst and Gneisenau.
We could easily defeat the Polish navy, which lacked even outdated battleships, and provide naval gunfire support if needed.
It was a small comfort, considering we couldn’t provide much support to the 3rd Army trapped in East Prussia.
Manstein, after a long silence, finally spoke.
“We have no choice but to withdraw troops from the Italian front. At least twenty divisions, preferably twenty-five…”
“I see…”
We desperately needed troops to hold the line until our reserves could be mobilized.
However, the Italian army, in terms of sheer numbers, was comparable to, or even larger than, the Polish army. Withdrawing troops from Italy would inevitably lead to our retreat there.
And we had fought so hard to reach Veneto… I knew the cost of every inch of territory gained, measured in blood and lives.
But we couldn’t abandon our homeland either. It was a no-win situation.
“Veneto is not suitable for defensive operations. We will have to withdraw to South Tyrol, or even Tyrol, to establish a defensive line.”
Manstein’s words filled me with a sense of dread, making me understand why Hitler and Stalin had been so insistent on never retreating.
Not that they had cared about the lives lost, of course.
That small map represented a landscape littered with German and Italian corpses. And there would be civilian casualties as well, a cost that couldn’t be justified by simply saying, “We’re taking back what was taken from us.”
While I had urged the military to minimize civilian casualties, it was just a request. How seriously would it be taken on the front lines?
“I agree.”
Field Marshal Ludwig Beck concurred. It was an obvious decision. Hitler, in this situation, would have been more concerned about his authority and image than about the lives lost…
“…The Defense Minister and I will convince the cabinet.”
This wasn’t a war of conquest for personal gain. We were a wartime coalition government, and our priority was to minimize casualties, not to assign blame.
“Thank you, Minister, State Secretary! You are far more reasonable than that Hitler!”
Manstein, his expression brightening, resumed his flattery, making both Beck and me grimace.
I still couldn’t get used to it.
As I was thinking this, Ludwig Beck spoke.
“While this is a crisis, it could also be an opportunity. We now have a justification to reclaim Danzig and the Corridor and teach those damned Poles a lesson.”
“Indeed, Minister! Every crisis presents an opportunity!”
A chill ran down my spine.
It wasn’t just the callous disregard for the human cost of war that disturbed me, but the realization that I, too, had harbored such thoughts.
I had wanted to reclaim Danzig if the opportunity arose. If Poland hadn’t attacked us…
Would we have truly refrained from invading Poland after the war with Italy?
I gritted my teeth. Now wasn’t the time for such doubts.
“Who do you have in mind for the Italian front?”
The commander assigned to the Italian front would be drawing the short straw.
Simply holding the line would be considered a success, with little chance of achieving any glory. Who would want such a thankless task?
Manstein coughed.
“We should discuss that with the Army Group South High Command.”
“…What about Lieutenant General Model as Chief of Staff for the Italian front?”
Manstein raised an eyebrow at my suggestion.
Walther Model, arrested after the collapse of Army Group South, had been released and reinstated, thanks to the efforts of General Witzleben and his subordinates.
“Ahem, I am aware of your friendship with him. However, he has resigned from the army.”
That was the problem. Model himself had requested to be discharged after his release…
“Nevertheless, I believe he is the best man for the job. I will try to persuade him.”
“Hmm, Model is undoubtedly capable. And few would want such an assignment. If he agrees…”
With Beck’s support, Manstein grinned.
“Then I agree as well! Haha, even you, State Secretary, are not immune to sentimentality. Your concern for your mentor, your desire to see him return to service! Such loyalty, even in your position of power, is truly-”
“I will speak with General Model.”
“Leave it to you.”
“Then, the navy will proceed with its operation.”
Manstein’s flowery praise was ruthlessly cut short by Beck, Raeder, and me.
–
December 21, 1939
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Central Germany, 4th Military District, Dresden
“Welcome, Schacht.”
“Thank you.”
I was visiting Walther Model’s home.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you, Herta.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
General Model’s wife offered us drinks and shooed away her two curious daughters, who kept peeking into the room.
“Hella, Christa, don’t be rude.”
The scene brought a smile to my face.
Would Claudia and I have a family like this someday?
“…You have a lovely family, General.”
“I’m not a general anymore.”
Seeing Model, usually clad in a stiff uniform and monocle, dressed casually and smiling warmly, filled me with a sense of unease.
…Was I doing the right thing?
When we were fighting the Nazis, I had been certain.
Certain that we were on the right path.
We had a clear goal: to prevent the Holocaust and the horrors of World War II, which would cost tens of millions of lives.
But what had we achieved?
Having witnessed the Wehrmacht’s swift collapse during the civil war, our neighbors had grown bolder, attacking us from all sides.
In the original timeline, the German soldiers, consumed by Nazi ideology, had at least atoned for their sins in later years.
But now?
While we were being attacked, our enemies underestimated our strength. I knew Germany’s potential from the original timeline, and I didn’t believe we would be defeated so easily, even if we struggled initially.
The German people would fight back fiercely, fueled by patriotic fervor to defend their homeland. But wouldn’t their hatred for the invaders be no different from the hatred the Nazis had instilled in them?
Claudia had said that anger was a natural human emotion, a valid motivator. She was right, of course.
But those who now saw the Polish invasion as an opportunity to reclaim Danzig… weren’t they like Mao Zedong, who had thanked Japan for invading China, claiming it allowed the communists to seize control?
What was I thinking, questioning the motives of a patriotic soldier before his mentor? I looked up and apologized to General Model.
“I apologize, I…”
“I understand your position. It wasn’t your fault that I was arrested or that I resigned.”
Walther Model smiled wryly and added, “Although, I do find your betrayal somewhat… irksome.”
“I apologize.”
Here I was, trying to persuade him to return to service, and all I could say was “I’m sorry.”
“Well, I suppose I was the same. Like mentor, like student. Haha.”
His laughter wasn’t the forced cheerfulness he displayed on the battlefield, but a bitter chuckle.
He had effectively induced the surrender of Army Group South by broadcasting the truth about the war, then allowed himself to be arrested alongside Brauchitsch.
What had he been thinking? What had he been feeling?
“…I actually…”
“Are you here to ask me to return to service?”
Did he have mind-reading abilities as well?
As I stared at him, speechless, he grinned.
“You’re an overthinker, but surprisingly easy to read, especially when it comes to your emotions.”
“…That’s true.”
But did I have the right to ask him this? I had betrayed him, my mentor.
And now, after removing the Nazis, I wasn’t even sure if I was on the right path anymore.
“Alright, I’ll do it.”
“What?”
As I stared at him in surprise, he looked at me as if I was the strange one.
“Why is it so strange for a retired lieutenant general to return to service during wartime?”
“No, that’s not it…”
He seemed so at peace, so happy with his family… Did I have the right to drag him back to the battlefield?
“My resignation… was an escape.”
“What?”
Walther Model, escaping? That Model?
“I couldn’t bear to remain in the army, while my mentor faced trial for my betrayal. I would have preferred to be tried and punished alongside him.”
He grinned at my surprised expression.
“But I am a soldier. I cannot refuse my country’s call to arms.”
I bit my lip.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s what I’ve always done. You asked what we were fighting for. I fight for my country. I betrayed my mentor because I realized that fighting alongside him was no longer in my country’s best interest.”
He was a true soldier. I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me.
I hesitated for a moment, then confessed, “I don’t know anymore.”
“Don’t know what?”
Unable to articulate my conflicting emotions, I simply blurted out, “What we’re fighting for. The horrors of war I’ve witnessed have faded into distant memories, and I find myself judging our progress based on numbers in reports. It’s… disturbing.”
Model listened silently.
“Is it enough to simply defeat the enemy and reclaim our territory in the name of our country? Many of the soldiers dying on the battlefield will never even set foot in those territories, and countless civilians will die simply because they happen to live there.”
What was I saying to a patriotic soldier?
“…I apologize. We are under attack, and I’m saying these strange things.”
“Hmm, you’re definitely not cut out for the military.”
He looked at my attire and remarked, “Why are you wearing a uniform? You’re a politician now, even if you’re still technically in the army. You’re not the type to flaunt your rank.”
“…I wear it to remind myself that even now, soldiers are fighting and dying on the front lines.”
He grinned at my answer.
“That’s a good answer. I like it. How old are you, Schacht?”
“…Twenty-nine.”
“I told you, you think too much. You’re too young to be so burdened by such thoughts.”
Twenty-nine wasn’t that young…
“Frankly, I don’t understand your concerns.”
“I see.”
He grinned and slapped me hard on the back.
“Ouch, General!”
That hurt!
“But I’ve seen where politicians, certain of their righteousness, lead their soldiers and their people.”
He looked at me and added, “Leave the fighting to us. We will fight for our country, without question or hesitation. You keep thinking. I trust you, based on what you’ve shown us so far, will make sure our sacrifices aren’t in vain.”
“You overestimate me…”
“Overestimate? I underestimated you and paid the price.”
I had no response to that.
I sighed and offered him my hand.
“Welcome back, Lieutenant General Model.”
“So, where is this urgent situation that requires my services?”
I now understood why he was called the “Fireman.”
“Yes, it’s… a rather… uncomfortable assignment.”
“Good. A fitting battlefield for a man who betrayed his mentor.”
I grinned, feeling the strength of his grip.
“Let’s go, General Model. Time to remodel the front lines.”
“…I didn’t know you enjoyed such puns.”
I chuckled. “My apologies, General. It’s a cheat from the future.”
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