Chapter 74: For What Do We Fight? (4)
Translated by Vine | Proofread by Lust
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< World War II – For What Do We Fight? (4) >
December 26, 1939
Northern Italy, Veneto, Venice – Mestre
Italy had entered this war expecting an easy victory, aiding their Nazi allies in crushing the German rebels and securing Tyrol as a reward.
However, their hasty offensive, launched before they were fully prepared, had met with unexpectedly fierce resistance from the Austrians, resulting in unnecessary casualties.
After regrouping and launching a well-prepared offensive, they had pushed into Tyrol, only to be driven back by the enraged Germans, fueled by the prince’s death, and the arrival of Reichswehr reinforcements.
With northern Veneto occupied and Venice threatened, Italy had declared a general mobilization, rallying its people for war.
Il Duce Mussolini was in Mestre, the location of the Italian army headquarters, delivering a speech.
“I, Duce Mussolini, as a servant of the state, serving the Italian people, desire nothing for myself, only the glory of Italy! I entered this war to aid our allies, and in return, we were promised Tyrol!”
Mussolini’s booming voice and imposing figure projected an air of charisma, which helped to reassure the anxious citizens, worried by the course of the war.
Even if it was all a facade.
“But those German traitors, not only did they betray our loyal allies, but they have now invaded our land, denying us our rightful claim to Tyrol! Is this just?!”
“No!”
As the planted agitators started the chant, the crowd, initially hesitant, joined in, their voices rising in a wave of anger.
Emboldened, Mussolini, his gestures dramatic, raised his voice.
“Those vile German invaders will pay the price! While their treacherous army attacks us, our powerful ally, Poland, is striking at their soft underbelly!”
Seeing the hope returning to the faces of his audience, Mussolini continued, his voice filled with confidence,
“Those invaders will soon crumble, and the world will witness our strength! Italy is more united than ever, and we will reclaim the glory of the Roman Empire!”
While the military leaders watching the speech looked unconvinced, the citizens were cheering wildly.
“The strength of Italy, united under the banner of Fascism, the descendants of the great Roman Empire, will lead us to victory! Glorious Italians, Avanti! (Forward!)”
“Avanti!”
As Mussolini raised his right arm in the fascist salute, the crowd echoed his gesture, chanting in unison.
While later known as the Nazi salute, it was, in fact, the fascists who had originated it.
Mussolini, his face a mask of solemn grandeur, waved to the cheering crowd, who responded with shouts of “Duce!” and “Avanti!”
As he stepped down from the podium, the military leaders followed him.
“A truly inspiring speech, Duce! You stirred the hearts of the Italian people!”
“A magnificent speech!”
Mussolini scoffed, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.
While the now-dead Hitler had been known for his oratory skills, Mussolini believed himself to be a far superior speaker.
To even compare him to Hitler? Preposterous!
That delusional madman, who had believed himself to be the true fascist leader, had died a pathetic death.
But he had expected him to last at least a year, not just three months. Mussolini, irritated by Hitler’s incompetence, asked curtly, “What’s the situation, Marshal Graziani?”
Graziani flinched slightly at Mussolini’s tone, then replied, trying to appease him, “While we have suffered some losses, their offensive has stalled. The Polish invasion in the north seems to be having the desired effect.”
While it was the Germans who had halted their offensive, not the Italians, there was no need to point that out and damage his own reputation.
Mussolini, inwardly scoffing at Graziani’s words, said, “Those fools must have exhausted their forces in the civil war and against us. Their offensive capabilities are clearly at their limit. Press the attack and drive them out of Italy!”
“Yes, sir!”
Despite Graziani’s enthusiastic response, Mussolini wasn’t entirely satisfied.
He had trusted Graziani, who had shown some competence in Ethiopia, but he had allowed the Germans to invade Italy.
If it hadn’t been for his aggressive offensive in Tyrol, he would have been dismissed already. But he had achieved some success, so he would give him another chance.
If only that damned Hitler hadn’t been defeated so quickly, and that German prince hadn’t died…
As Mussolini was brooding, Deputy Commander Giovanni Messe spoke up, “With all due respect, Duce, our casualties against the Germans have already reached forty thousand. Perhaps we should focus on regrouping and mobilizing our reserves, rather than launching an offensive…”
While the Italian army, with its forty corps (Italy used the term “corps” for divisions), appeared to be a large force, it had suffered heavy losses and lacked sufficient reserves.
Forty divisions in other countries would typically number around eight hundred thousand men.
However, the Italian army, with its inflated corps designations, lacked substance, and with the heavy casualties, the actual number of combat-ready troops on the front lines was closer to six hundred thousand, at best.
Mussolini, however, frowned at Messe’s cautious suggestion.
“That’s not a problem! The blood shed to strengthen Fascism, the twenty thousand lost in Ethiopia, were too few!”
As the military leaders looked on in stunned silence, Mussolini continued,
“Tens of thousands of casualties are insignificant. I need the blood of young men to strengthen Fascism and secure my place at the peace talks as a victor! This is our chance, with Poland attacking their homeland! Launch the counteroffensive!”
Was this the same man who had once promised to improve the lives of the Italian people, who had criticized American mass production for dehumanizing workers?
As Giovanni Messe stared at him, speechless with shock, Mussolini, softening his tone slightly, added, “Don’t worry, Deputy Commander. Hungary will soon join the war, and we have support within Germany. They won’t be able to hold on much longer.”
“Support within Germany?”
Mussolini chuckled.
“Indeed. Fascism is a powerful weapon, born from the aspirations of the people. While the Nazis are a crude imitation of Fascism, they are still fascists. Do you think their ideology will simply vanish?”
–
December 29, 1939
Northern Italy, Veneto-South Tyrol (Trentino-Alto Adige) German-Italian Front Line
Early morning. The Italian army was preparing for an offensive to drive the Germans out of Italy.
“We’re all in on this offensive. The new Fiat M11/39 medium tank will finally see combat.”
While Germany was already using the Panzer III and IV medium tanks as its main battle tanks, Italy, due to delays in development, had been forced to rely on light tanks, suffering heavy losses against the German armor.
However, they now had fifty M11/39s ready for deployment, which boosted the morale of the Italian military.
“Now, according to the plan…”
As Marshal Graziani was about to issue his orders, the phone rang.
“It’s Deputy Commander Messe.”
As Graziani and the other generals watched Messe, he narrowed his eyes and said, “The Germans are retreating. Their front lines are empty!”
“Oh!”
“Ha! They couldn’t withstand the Polish attack!”
The Italian generals cheered. They hadn’t forgotten the German army’s poor performance during the Anschluss and the humiliating defeats they had suffered during the initial stages of the war, when they had underestimated the German rebels.
They were now confident of victory, eager to claim their share of the glory.
“Excellent! Pursue them!”
“But Commander, we were preparing for a defensive battle, and our units are not yet in position for an offensive…”
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“Even if only a portion of their forces are retreating, we still have numerical superiority! Everyone knows an army is most vulnerable during a retreat! Launch the attack!”
Rodolfo Graziani was anxious. He had launched a confident offensive into Tyrol, only to be pushed back and forced to concede Italian territory.
The image of Italo Balbo, retreating in disgrace, haunted him.
“We can’t miss this opportunity to crush them while they’re retreating!”
He had sent many of his men to their deaths in Ethiopia, but he had ultimately achieved victory and been promoted to Marshal.
For a soldier, all that mattered was victory and achievements. He wouldn’t end up like Balbo.
–
“Those fearsome Germans, retreating so easily?”
The Italians, muttering in disbelief, advanced through the abandoned German positions.
While they had initially pushed into Tyrol, they had been forced to retreat across the Alps, suffering heavy losses under the relentless attacks of the enraged Germans and Austrians.
“Those Neapolitans always run first.”
“And then they call us Sicilians country bumpkins.”
The Italian soldiers who had fought against the Germans had been surprised by their ferocity. The Germans, despite being rebels, had fought with a unity and determination that surpassed even their own totalitarian regime’s.
While Duce Mussolini spoke of a united Italy, his speeches resonated mainly with his fellow northerners.
Italians were more loyal to their regions than to their nation, and while individual soldiers could be brave, their coordination and cooperation were often lacking.
“Perhaps the Poles are doing better than we thought?”
“I hope so. I want to go home.”
“Me too. I hope to be home by spring.”
The Sicilian soldiers, close-knit despite their regional differences, chatted amongst themselves as they advanced.
However, their hopeful conversations were cut short.
The lead L3 tankette suddenly exploded, engulfed in flames. The Italian soldiers, startled, stared in horror.
“A mine-”
A soldier, stumbling back in panic, stepped on another mine and was blown to pieces, his screams echoing through the air.
“A minefield! Retreat!”
“What? They were retreating! Why are there mines?”
While the Italians had only detected the German retreat on the 29th, the Germans had begun their preparations and withdrawal on Christmas Day, the 25th.
The decoy units had maintained the illusion of a continued German presence, while the main force had withdrawn under the cover of darkness, making it seem to the Italians as if the retreat had just begun.
The Germans, while retreating, had laid countless mines and booby traps to delay the Italian advance, and the Italians, pursuing them rashly before they could properly deploy their forces according to their offensive plan, were suffering heavy casualties and a significant loss of morale.
However, unfortunately for the Italians, the losses they suffered pursuing the vanished Germans through Veneto were merely a nuisance compared to the horrors that awaited them in South Tyrol.
They were about to face a defensive battle unlike anything they had ever seen.
< World War II – For What Do We Fight? (4) > End
