Chapter 258

< World War II - End of the Eastern Front >

May 4, 1942

East of the Polish-Belarusian Federation, Gomel

The German-Soviet War, which had been a symbol of Germany's downfall in the original history, was over.

There was no Siege of Leningrad that lasted for years, causing countless people to die in starvation.

There was no Rzhev Theater, which forced horrific sacrifices to the point it was called the meat grinder by the Soviet Army, and where just as many German soldiers were ground down.

There was no Battle of Stalingrad, where countless people died or became prisoners of war.

Instead, all that could be seen were German soldiers preparing for withdrawal or passing through, and the Polish-Belarusian Federation Army organizing their newly arranged borders.

Having finished the long war, they were finally going home.

With that thought, all the German soldiers had full smiles on their faces.

It was a scene where German men, who were reputed to be stiff and boring, were greatly excited, exchanging jokes and laughing loudly in joy.

I was watching that scene in Gomel, a land that had now become the territory of the Polish-Belarusian Federation instead of the Soviet Union.

It was not a scene I had achieved alone.

Still, to me, who had strived longer than anyone else to create this scene, this was a sight akin to salvation.

To think the day would actually come when I finally achieved the goal that seemed so distant when I started in the Spanish Civil War.

It was a bit of a shame that I couldn't see this scene together with Claudia, but…

I saw the unit I was waiting for arrive and stood up from my seat.

"Oh- haha. I never thought such a high-ranking person would come to greet me."

The monocle-wearing general, who had just entered Gomel riding in a command vehicle, saw me and laughed cheerfully.

I also smiled back at him and replied.

"Welcome, General Model."

-

General Model's unit, which had been dispatched to the Smolensk front to support the Free Russian Army, withdrew as the peace agreement was signed and the alliance between the Free Russian Army and the Allied Forces was essentially broken.

While General Model's unit was crossing the border of Free Russia and gathering one after another in Gomel, I walked along a nearby road with General Model.

"It couldn't have been a very pleasant mission, so thank you for your hard work all this time."

I didn't assign him to Kursk, which was the fiercest battleground, but instead left the menial tasks concerning Free Russia to him.

It was a mission of cooperation and surveillance with Free Russia, a task that could easily lead to them running wild or causing conflicts if mishandled. Even though he was the only one I could trust to handle it, it was true that I felt sorry.

However, General Model smiled and replied.

"As a soldier, it's only natural to carry out the assigned mission. Rather, I'm thankful that you trusted me and entrusted me with such a mission."

The course of action General Model showed in the Smolensk Theater was extremely impressive in many ways.

He observed the state of the front line while the Free Russian Army was being pushed back significantly, and when they eventually couldn't hold out and asked for help, he swiftly and accurately relieved them and repelled the Soviet Army.

Thanks to that, we were able to prevent Free Russia from raising their voices loudly in the peace negotiations.

…Although they ended up causing an accident in the end.

Furthermore, as soon as the transport aircraft carrying Zhdanov was shot down, the first thing General Model did was check whether his subordinate units had fired their anti-aircraft guns, and then convey the situation to me via telegram.

Later, as the sole German commander stationed in the direction of Smolensk, he even personally gave a rebuttal to the war correspondents, stating that Free Russia's claims made no sense.

All of this was done by General Model on his own accord, without me requesting or ordering it.

"Honestly, I was a bit surprised. General, you perfectly fulfilled your role to an extent that couldn't be any better."

"I felt this before as well, but you secretly have an aptitude for flattery."

"Hahaha…"

Come to think of it, Model was favored by Hitler even in the situation where countless generals were being fired by him in the Nazi Germany of original history.

Because he made a habit of saying that soldiers and politics should keep their distance, I hadn't thought that far ahead, but regardless of his values, he must have the judgment to move while considering the political situation.

I paused for a moment and then asked him.

"How is the situation with the Free Russian Army?"

"Hmm. They seem to consider Germany and the Allied Forces as traitors."

"…So that's how it is."

Free Russia would eventually have to fight a difficult civil war.

America would help the Free Russian Army with massive amounts of supplies, but well. I didn't see it very hopefully.

Although supplies and equipment were extremely important factors in war, history was overflowing with lessons showing that one couldn't win with just those alone.

At the point where we solved the food problem, which was the Soviet Union's most serious issue, Free Russia's chances of winning had to be seen as 0%.

At best, after shedding a lot of blood, they would end up exhausted and reach an armistice like the Korean Peninsula after the Korean War, and at worst, they would just face their downfall by the Soviet Union.

America's national power was strong, but that didn't mean unlimited support.

For now, anti-communism was strong, and since they had already provided support, they wouldn't want to just take a loss, so America would actively help them as well, but the moment they judged there was no prospect of recovering their investment costs, they would be abandoned right then and there.

And if that happened, the end for those who joined Free Russia wouldn't be good.

"Are you worried?"

"Haha… to be honest, yes."

I was well aware that the conditions I put forward could not satisfy Free Russia.

I also made my own preparations in case the Free Russian Army, dissatisfied with the peace agreement, might cause an accident.

In the end, they caused an accident in a way I couldn't even imagine, but I also understood their stance.

For them, who must have truly risen up for the freedom of Russia, they couldn't accept the predicament of being a de facto satellite state dependent on Germany or America.

General Model quietly looked at me and asked.

"…Do you regret it?"

"No."

"Then that's all that matters."

General Model said that, paused for a moment, and then opened his mouth.

"I had a conversation with Vlasov. I told him I hoped the Chairman's desperation wouldn't lead them down the wrong path."

"…It's probably half my fault that he chose such a path."

Vlasov couldn't be seen as a simple villain.

He was a person with firm beliefs, and someone who truly struggled for the freedom of Russia.

Instead of showing consideration for his stance, it was me who pressured him by forcing conditions to end the war for the sake of Germany and the Allied Powers.

Model smirked.

"Yes, that's right. You pushed it through. But even so, if you had made us fight and shed the blood of Germans and the Allied Forces for the sake of their freedom, I would have despised you."

"…I know."

Ultimately, as a German politician and a key figure of the Allied Powers, there was no way from the start to satisfy Free Russia, whose interests inherently differed from ours.

All I could do was secure the share to be received by Poland, Finland, and Ukraine, who had fought their best alongside us, and end the war quickly.

"Still, I'm getting a little tired now."

I did my best in my own way, but in the end, under the glorious victory achieved by Germany, the corpses of nearly two million Germans piled up.

I divided up Romania for Germany's national interests, and abandoned Free Russia.

I kept my respect and fidelity to the Allied Powers as much as possible, but even that was ultimately a decision made after calculating that the influence and trust Germany would gain would provide a much greater benefit than the short-term gains from betraying them.

The me who honestly rejoiced that the members of the Allied Powers had gained a better future than original history, and the me who thought they must be abandoned at any time if they became a detriment to Germany, coexisted.

Just how much of the personality of Yun Seong-il, the 21st-century human who was freshly discharged from the military, was actually left in me?

Right now, I am a German, and I am Dietrich Schacht.

I have not a shred of doubt about that fact.

But aside from that, being in a position where I had to view lives as numbers and nations as cards, I was terrified because it felt like I had lost far too much of what one shouldn't lose as a human being.

Some were already saying I might become Germany's very first Prime Minister in his 30s, but honestly speaking, my mind was only full of thoughts of retiring as soon as I finished this term as a minister.

"Haha. The war with Japan still remains, but I feel like finishing it quickly and taking a rest."

For some reason, I ended up voicing weak thoughts to him that I couldn't even say to my father.

No, come to think of it, it was obvious I couldn't say it to that father of mine. Ah, the sound of him clicking his tongue was automatically playing in my mind.

General Model stared intently at me, and as was all too natural, he smacked my back…

He did not.

He reached out his hand, grabbed my head, and made me look straight into his eyes.

"Schacht."

"…Yes, General Model."

"You really are weak-willed."

Ugh, did I voice too many weak thoughts to him, the textbook example of a by-the-book grunt?

While I was thinking that, General Model took off his hat and bowed politely, showing me respect.

"Uh, eh?"

"However, it was you, with such a weak will, who achieved things that no one in Germany has ever accomplished until now. I am sincerely grateful to you."

"Uh, no.

I wasn't the one who achieved it."

"Yes, you would say that. But, I think like this. Because you, who can say such things, were in that position, we were able to achieve all of it."

"…"

General Model smirked and opened his mouth.

"Did you know? Because my birthday is the same as Frederick the Great's, my subordinates consider me, who achieves a series of victories, to be the reincarnation of Frederick the Great."

"Uh, honestly, it could be-"

"But looking at you, there probably isn't anyone who could say you are the reincarnation of someone."

"…"

"There might be humans who are more outstanding than you in war, diplomacy, or propaganda. But while doing all of those things as much as you did, there was no one who could say our great feat was not achieved by you, but achieved by us. And there probably won't be in the future, either."

"That's, just…"

The things I achieved were ultimately accomplished by borrowing the strength of the people of this era.

And even that, somehow, whether it was God's prank or whatever, was just a loophole possible because I was a human dropped into this era possessing unreasonable knowledge.

It was nothing more than a crude talent that anyone could have done if they had the same conditions as me-

Model spoke resolutely as if cutting off my thoughts.

"Whatever you may think, this is probably the thought of the majority, not just me. So square your shoulders and have confidence. As someone with authority, it's also a problem that you bear heavy responsibilities but fail to have pride in the things you've accomplished. That's a discourtesy to those who evaluate you highly."

"I-Is that so…"

"But it's not like you have the personality to get drunk on your own greatness and indiscriminately boss others around anyway.

Being such a pushover for a politician. Therefore, you are free to boss someone of my level around as much as you like.

If the burden is heavy, I'll gladly share it with you."

Only then did a laugh escape me.

I realized anew, wasn't he an excessively cool person?

I felt like my beloved wife would be jealous, but surely she would overlook this much with her broad generosity.

…Would she not overlook it?

I chuckled in spite of myself, imagining Claudia's pouting face, and opened my mouth.

"Thank you, General. Then, since you mentioned it, I think I will gladly boss you around."

"Uh, hm?"

General Model also seemed a little flustered, probably not expecting me to be like this, but soon burst into hearty laughter and asked.

"Alright, what should I do for you?"

Uh, now that I was actually about to say it, I felt like I was being a bit too evil.

But no matter how much I thought about it, there was no other suitable person.

To send Army Group Commanders, the military force was too small, and I couldn't send gentlemen who were now only calculating their angles for retirement.

Rommel? As a vanguard, he was certainly a great general, but if I entrusted that man as the Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Force, it was obvious it would turn into the state of the African front.

Guderian? He would be better than Rommel, but this man also didn't consider political implications at all.

There was General Hube, but his name lacked the worth.

It was a personnel selection that had to go representing Germany, so at the very least, the opponent should have heard the name.

…For that reason, I am sorry.

General.

"…Would you be willing to take a trip to Asia?"

-

May 7, 1942

Capital of the Soviet Union, Moscow

The war that seemed like it would never end was over.

However, the flames of another civil war were burning in that empty space.

The man, who had been injured and lost consciousness in the Battle of Kursk, and then treated by the German Army and became a prisoner of war, was walking across Red Square, still limping on his uncomfortable leg.

As the Allied Forces liberated the prisoners of war along with the peace agreement, it was a common sight to see people reuniting with family members they thought were dead.

In the streets where Communist Party members with grim looks used to roam while keeping a close watch, it was full of people smiling, albeit faintly, as they received the food that the Emergency Committee distributed more generously than usual to boost the public sentiment and the will to fight even a little.

Moscow of the Soviet Union, where the position of General Secretary was left vacant, felt like a completely unfamiliar, different city even though it was the same city.

The man kept walking with a limp and entered a cemetery on the outskirts.

The grave he arrived at after walking for a long time was ordinary.

For a grave where the man who was like the symbol of the Soviet Union was buried, it was an all too ordinary grave.

In front of that grave, he saw the back of a still young girl kneeling in black clothes.

The man walked a little closer and softly called her name.

"…Svetlana."

She flinched, her shoulders trembling, and slowly turned her head.

Dressed in mourning clothes, and despite being in front of a grave, the girl's eyes were extremely dry.

However, the moment she recognized the man, tears began to well up in the girl's eyes.

The man hugged the girl who ran towards him.

"Y-You were alive…"

The man, Yakov, smiled bitterly at the sensation of his half-sister Svetlana's tears soaking his collar.

"You idiot brother, you were alive…"

"…I'm sorry for making you worry."

Svetlana began to cry aloud as soon as she heard Yakov's words.

Yakov let out a small sigh and turned his gaze to his father's grave.

A grave that was no different from those of other people, buried not as a General Secretary but just as a single person.

Yakov recalled the last phone call he had and the voice he heard at that time.

The last order of General Secretary Stalin.

No, the last request of his father, Iosif.

Yakov softly stroked the head of the sobbing Svetlana and muttered quietly.

"…I'm glad I could protect her, Father."