Chapter 245

< World War II - The Decisive Battle (1) >

March 28, 1942

East Belarus, Gomel – Eastern Front Command

I was on standby at the Eastern Front Command with the military high command, the generals in charge of the front, and their staff officers.

“Are the preparations for the offensive complete?”

Commander-in-Chief of the Army, Field Marshal Erwin von Witzleben.

“Is there any doubt, Your Excellency! Including 150 Tigers and 500 Panthers, we are committing 4,200 tanks to the Battle of Kursk alone!”

Chief of Staff of the Army, Erich von Manstein.

“…Though there could have been a few more…”

As Manstein said this, he glanced my way.

What? It’s already been decided, so what’s the point? Do you have a problem with the Minister of Defense, Chief of Staff?

“The matter has already been decided, so do not quibble.”

“Ahem.

Yes, Your Excellency.”

Fortunately, Field Marshal Witzleben supported me on most issues, as always.

“Thank you, Field Marshal Witzleben. Ah, they’ve arrived.”

“Mm.”

After watching the transport aircraft land at the airfield, Field Marshal Witzleben looked at each of the general officers present and a satisfied expression appeared on his face.

As the party disembarked from the transport aircraft, all the soldiers simultaneously saluted, and the Field Marshals, including Witzleben, raised their batons.

“Welcome, Your Majesty the Emperor, Prime Minister.”

“Mm, you’ve all worked hard.”

“Haha, thank you for your efforts.”

Emperor Wilhelm III and Prime Minister Heuss.

I had rarely seen the two of them together like this, so the combination felt a bit awkward.

Wilhelm III looked at the stiffly standing general officers with a satisfied expression, returned their salute, and approached me.

“You’ve been through a lot, Minister.”

“I am merely fulfilling my role, Your Majesty.”

He stared at me intently, then smiled faintly.

What part of that response was supposed to be funny?

I had known him for quite a while now, but that Emperor was still a difficult one to read…

After some light small talk, we headed inside, and Manstein began to speak at the top of his lungs.

“It is the honor of a lifetime to have this opportunity to explain the ‘Manstein Plan’ to His Majesty the Emperor and the Prime Minister! This magnificent—that will go down in German military history—”

“Your preamble is long.

Just give us a simple explanation of the contents.”

He was mercilessly shot down by the Emperor.

“…M-My apologies, Your Majesty.”

Wow, look at him break out in a cold sweat.

…To think I’d live to see the day I felt sorry for Manstein.

-

After exchanging brief greetings with the Emperor and Mr.

Heuss, along with the various generals, and hearing an outline of the operation.

Prime Minister Heuss looked at the speech that Claudia and I had written and handed him, then looked at me and asked.

“Is it really alright for me to do this?”

I met Mr. Heuss’s gaze and smiled.

“Is there a question of whether it’s alright? You are the Prime Minister, Mr. Heuss.”

Mr. Heuss gave a bitter smile.

“But this war is your war. I may be the Prime Minister of Germany, but no one is ignorant of who the leader of the Allied Powers was.”

“It would have been impossible without your support, Mr. Heuss.”

From a mere Captain to Vice-Chancellor, and now to my current position as Minister of Defense and Propaganda.

My opinions, though not always, quite often clashed with those of the German high command.

And it was by no means my strength alone that broke through all that and led Germany this far.

The authority that allowed a mere captain to catch the Emperor’s eye and become Vice-Chancellor was thanks to the full-fledged support of Mr.

Heuss and the Frankfurter Zeitung.

The immense authority I wielded as Vice-Chancellor was power lent by the Emperor, and it was only possible because there were people who supported me so I could pour all my capabilities into war and diplomacy.

Claudia, my father, Weizsäcker, Kordt, and countless others.

Even after I stepped down from the authority of the Emperor, the fact that I could act freely as a minister would have been impossible if the virtuous Mr.

Heuss had not mediated and quelled the dissatisfaction of the opposition.

And above all.

“What Germany needs is not the epic of a great hero, but simply a politician who uses the authority delegated by the people where it is needed. There is no reason why that person should be me, and not the Prime Minister.”

Mr. Heuss’s response was a slow, but genuine, smile.

“Thank you.”

He was a mentor figure to Claudia and a man who had backed me since I was a pipsqueak of a captain.

…On a personal level, I even thought of him as something of a father-in-law.

I replied, filled with gratitude.

“I am the one who has always been grateful.”

Mr.

Heuss patted me on the shoulder and walked up to the podium.

As I watched him from below the stage, a voice came from my side.

“So, this current position is your ideal, is that it?”

The question came from the Emperor, Wilhelm III.

I replied with a grin.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“…I see.”

There was no further conversation.

Both I and the Emperor had likely gotten our answers about each other.

I turned my gaze to the illustrious general officers of the German Army gathered here.

Erwin von Witzleben, Erich von Manstein, Fedor von Bock, Günther von Kluge, Johannes Blaskowitz, Ewald von Kleist, Heinz Guderian, Erwin Rommel, Hans-Valentin Hube, and General Walter Model, along with numerous other commanders.

A good number of them were men who, in the original history, had fought for Nazi Germany and had been forced to dirty their hands.

But not now.

“To the proud soldiers of Germany. I, Prime Minister Theodor Heuss, greet you.”

The journey that began in the Spanish Civil War.

“I express my deepest gratitude for the blood, sweat, and toil you have shed during this long war.”

A fight that started for mere survival, and a faint resistance that began with the desire to change history.

“I know that, ahead of this decisive battle, all of you are tense and worried.”

A path I had run down, time and again doubting whether this was impossible, whether I was on the wrong path.

“I remember the departure ceremony held in Frankfurt several years ago.

I believe you also remember the speech that cried out for resistance against the oppression of the Nazis.”

The speech I gave with all my heart at the departure ceremony that marked the first fruits of our labor.

“The words I said then—that if someone in the future were to ask what we fought for, we would answer with pride—still remain in my heart.”

Words shouted with the hope that all Germans could truly answer when everything was over.

“The Nazi dictatorship has fallen. The government that incited blind obedience and hatred is no more.

I have no doubt that all of you know why you are standing here now, that you each have your own answer.”

That alone was enough to say that everything I, we, had done was worthwhile.

“If there is anyone who does not know, please inquire with the Ministry of Propaganda. I hear our dear Minister Schacht has offered to provide a kind consultation.”

Laughter erupted from all around.

Ah, wait a minute! I’ve never seen that part of the speech! Claudia, you too!

Mr.

Heuss also smiled gently before composing his expression.

“There is no one left who cries for a war for the glory of the nation.

You all now know that war is neither romantic nor glorious, and yet you stand here. You know of the horrific and countless sacrifices, yet you hold a grim resolve.”

The German-Soviet War was what I had feared since Spain, considering it the end of Germany, the future of ruin.

But now, I no longer feared it.

“Once, Germany pursued hegemony and domination. Those who cried out for the defense of freedom were our enemies and objects of our envy.”

I had constantly doubted whether a Germany liberated from the evil hand of the Nazis could walk the path of a normal nation.

But now, I no longer doubted it.

“Now, it is we who are revered as the Guardians of Freedom. We now take up arms not for the nation, but for yourselves and your families, and for those who once feared us.”

It was not something for me to fear, nor something for me to doubt.

“This is not the story of a superhuman hero, nor is it the story of a glorious nation.

It is the story of each and every one of you, who are freer than anyone.”

It was not a story of Germany being led down the right path by a fanatical leader like Hitler, or by someone like me who knew the future.

It was simply a story of all Germans striving together for a better path.

“Proud soldiers of Germany.

As the Prime Minister of Germany, I am deeply grateful to have been given the opportunity to state this fact. At this very moment, you are the freest and greatest of heroes.”

Because this was the story of those who had evaded the possibility of perishing as the world’s great evil and had come to face a different future.

“May victory be with all of you and with the members of the Allied Forces fighting alongside you.

I express my boundless respect for your courage and your free will.”

Having finished his speech, Mr.

Heuss bowed deeply.

A sound like thunderous applause erupted.

I, too, was part of it.

The path that began with the Condor Legion and led to this point.

Tresckow, Oster, Kordt, Claudia.

The culmination of a faint resistance that began in an apartment in Berlin with just a few people against the great evil that was the Nazis.

This entire journey was for this very moment.

-

March 29, 1942

Central Soviet Union, Kursk – Soviet Command Headquarters

Georgy Zhukov stared at the operation map with a grave expression.

The main German attack would be at Kursk.

There was sufficient basis for this judgment.

The enemy’s troop deployment showed a clear intention, and there were even parts of their operation plan that Andropov had managed to acquire.

Germany’s Abwehr had been zealous in its counter-intelligence activities, but it hadn’t been able to prevent the NKVD, which was pouring all its resources into tracking the German Army’s movements, from seizing parts of the operation plans distributed to each division.

Even with what seemed to be disparate operational plans for individual divisions, they fit together like a single picture before Georgy Zhukov.

Roughly speaking, Zhukov’s predictions were not far off.

If Zhukov were the German commander. The areas where the Soviet Army had built up its defense lines as much as possible mostly overlapped with the enemy’s expected offensive line.

Any other German movements that strayed from Zhukov’s predictions could be blocked by the reserves he had scraped together.

The military force the Soviet Army had scraped from the very bottom to concentrate at Kursk totaled around 5,000 tanks.

The German tanks opposing them numbered around 4,000.

In simple numbers, the Soviet Army had the superiority, but the enemy was estimated to have deployed over 500 of their new heavy Tiger tanks and medium Panther tanks combined.

With half of Ukraine’s factories lost, the Soviets had been forced to rush production after relocating to the Ural, struggling just to meet the numbers for tanks. The situation was even bleaker when it came to air and artillery power.

The German Army held the overall advantage, and taking heavy sacrifices would be unavoidable. But a major defeat had to be prevented at all costs.

If they were constantly forced onto the defensive by Germany, it would be difficult to get an opportunity to make a move themselves.

Above all, Zhukov himself could not accept defeat after the NKVD had done so much.

Zhukov let out a small sigh and peered at the operation map.

This was the defense line prepared by the Soviet Union’s greatest general, who had done everything he could during the winter.

He thought he couldn’t have been more prepared, but was that really true?

If only Vasilevsky had been here, his burden would have been much lighter.

As that thought crossed his mind, Zhukov’s eyes darkened.

He was not here now.

The rest of them were far inferior anyway, so he had no choice but to handle it himself.

This was a final, total war, with everything on the line.

Just as he had in Poland, Georgy Zhukov imagined the vile face of Manstein sitting in the chair opposite him and muttered in a low voice.

“Come and get me.”

And at that very moment, Erich von Manstein, at the Allied Command Headquarters in Gomel, blew out a puff of cigar smoke and smiled with leisurely confidence.

“Well then, shall we begin?”

Before his eyes, the spiderweb-like complexity of the operation map and the dizzying number of troop status reports were a source of unparalleled exhilaration.

Manstein pressed his cigar into the ashtray.

“Let’s settle this, Georgy Zhukov.”