Interwar Period – Sudetenland Crisis (3)

May 14, 1938 – East Pomerania, Schmenzin (now Poland, east of Stettin)

"We ask for British aid to overthrow the Nazi regime, but the sovereignty of Sudetenland and Danzig must be recognized."

The high-ranking generals nodded, as though Ludwig Beck’s declaration was the most natural thing in the world. As the leader of the group, he quickly moved the discussion toward deciding who would hold which position once the plan succeeded with British support.

Ludwig Beck would serve as Regent of the Empire until the emperor was restored, while Franz Halder would be appointed Minister of War.

I really wanted to pass out.

"…Excuse me, esteemed Chief of Staff. May I say something?"

I glanced at Leutnant Colonel Tresckow, sipping wine with a half-amused expression. But this was an issue I couldn’t just ignore.

Were they seriously going to waste time on these pointless fantasies when we had so little time left?

I wondered what exactly this group had been doing all these years during the interwar period—only to now squander precious time on unrealistic discussions as the war loomed closer.

"This is not the place for a mere captain to speak."

Chief of Staff Franz Halder dismissed me outright. But when I didn’t back down, my father, Hjalmar Schacht, stepped forward.

"It was this "mere captain" who brought me here. If you won’t listen to him, I, as the representative of the business community, may as well leave."

When my father confronted Halder, the meeting’s organizer, Sir von Kleist-Schmenzin, quickly intervened.

"Oh, of course not, former Minister Schacht. Hearing various opinions isn’t a bad idea. After all, we haven’t yet negotiated with Britain or finalized any concrete plans."

Halder, displeased, begrudgingly stepped back.

Come to think of it, he was never fond of the radicals pushing for armored warfare alongside Guderian, was he?

"…Thank you for your permission, Sir von Kleist-Schmenzin. So, if I may, you are negotiating as the Widerstand—against the Nazi regime—correct?"

"Right."

When Ludwig Beck admitted it without hesitation, I paused briefly before continuing.

"Then, esteemed Commander-in-Chief, I must point out that diplomatic negotiations can only succeed when both parties benefit from them. What exactly can we offer Britain in exchange for them recognizing our sovereignty over both Sudetenland and Danzig?"

Britain had little interest in resistance against Hitler. If supporting insurgents had been more attractive than dealing with Hitler himself, there would have been no Munich Agreement in the first place.

"Are we not going to overthrow their enemy, Hitler?"

The question came as though the answer should be obvious. But the former mayor of Leipzig and staunch royalist politician, Dr. Carl Goerdeler, stepped in.

"…I’m sorry, Doctor, but Hitler is their enemy because of his relentless territorial ambitions. Why would we—harboring the same ambitions—not also be their enemy?"

Dr. Goerdeler’s face flushed red.

"What kind of nonsense is that! Are you suggesting we give up the territories rightfully belonging to Germans since the Kaiser’s time?"

The high-ranking Junkers and generals—the backbone of the Black Orchestra—seemed to agree with him. I could feel their cold, disapproving stares.

This was getting ridiculous.

"I don’t think you understand, Captain," Sir von Kleist-Schmenzin said with a mocking tone. "Under the Locarno Treaty, only our western territories were recognized as lost by Versailles. We still have legitimate sovereignty over the eastern lands."

Laughter rippled around the room.

True, Germany had recognized its western borders with France and Belgium in the 1925 Locarno Treaty, while deliberately leaving the eastern borders ambiguous. Stresemann, then Chancellor, had used that ambiguity to appease hardliners at home, while Britain and France left the door open for arbitration in the east.

"It left room for diplomatic maneuvering. I’m not saying we should give up entirely, but forcing them to acknowledge our sovereignty now will get us nowhere. If we want British support, we must show them that we are different from the Nazi regime—and that they stand to gain from helping us. If we lead with territorial demands, they may not even sit down at the table."

"Isn’t it arrogant for a captain—not even a diplomat—to speak this way?"

Halder’s voice was thick with disdain, and the other generals’ faces mirrored his irritation.

Damn it, this wasn’t working.

But then, unexpectedly, someone came to my aid.

"Captain Schacht has a point. There’s no need to tell Britain in advance that we intend to reclaim eastern territories. That issue can be negotiated later, from a position of strength, once we are an equal government."

It was Ernst von Weizsäcker, Deputy Foreign Minister—second only to Ribbentrop himself.

I hadn’t expected that.

The senior officers, who had been dismissive moments before, seemed to reconsider once someone from the Foreign Ministry spoke in my defense.

As I glanced at Weizsäcker, the man beside him—someone I hadn’t seen before—caught my eye. He looked to be in his thirties and gave me a small, knowing smile.

In the end, the meeting brought little tangible result.

It was decided that Sir von Kleist-Schmenzin would be sent as a special envoy to England to request British support. But the real question—how exactly we intended to remove the Nazis—wasn’t addressed, since Leutnant Colonel Hans Oster, the movement’s leader, was absent on a mission.

Today was essentially a social gathering—an introduction to the people involved in the resistance and a chance to discuss positions in the event of success.

For them, that seemed more important than execution. They were politicians, after all.

And it was painfully clear to me that nothing would move forward if we relied solely on these leisurely high-ranking figures.

"Captain Schacht. I thought so earlier, but your nerve… it’s impressive. I can’t decide whether to admire it or be afraid of it."

Leutnant Colonel Tresckow took a drag from his cigarette, his tone halfway between sarcasm and genuine amusement.

"Well, with former Minister Schacht as your father, I suppose you can afford such boldness. But keep it up and you’ll make powerful enemies."

"Yes, I’ll be careful."

While my father stayed behind, chatting with senior figures who seemed interested in him, I had stepped outside first—only to get a light scolding from Tresckow. My mind, however, was elsewhere.

I hadn’t expected much from the Black Orchestra’s senior members to begin with. The real work would be done by those actually capable of carrying out the plan, not those who merely expected seats of honor.

Still, I had hoped to get at least a rough outline from Leutnant Colonel Oster. But with him absent, even that small hope was dashed.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have expected anything at all.

I was about to sink deeper into my thoughts when a cheerful voice called out.

"Ah, there you are!"

It was the man who had stood beside Weizsäcker earlier—the one who had likely influenced his support for me.

"Thank you again for speaking up. Captain Dietrich Schacht, isn’t it?"

"Nice to meet you, Captain Schacht! I’m Erich Kort, European Commissioner at the Foreign Ministry. I’ve heard quite a bit about you from reporter Jung of the Frankfurter Zeitung."

"Oh, you know Claudia? Nice to meet you."

So our tireless reporter’s network reached the Foreign Ministry… impressive.

Kort’s tone was lively, almost friendly.

"I’m genuinely grateful someone from the military side brought up the basics of diplomacy today! My brother is stationed at our London embassy—consider England my brother’s territory."

"That’s good to hear. Director of European Affairs—that’s an impressive role."

We shook hands warmly.

"Haha, it’s nothing. Back when Ribbentrop was ambassador in London, I worked under him. When he became Foreign Minister, I was promoted too."

That made sense—Ribbentrop had only become Foreign Minister earlier this year.

"I see. A little late, but congratulations."

"Thank you. Honestly, I was surprised today. I didn’t expect much from this meeting, but you spoke as though you’d personally dealt with British nobility."

"…I simply considered things from Britain’s point of view."

After all, why would Britain grant territorial sovereignty to insurgents who weren’t even a legitimate government? In reality, they might even demand that Germany permanently renounce claims to the eastern territories in exchange for aid.

"Anyway, I don’t think we can get much out of Britain right now. At best, we can make them aware of our existence and plant the idea that we could be a positive force once we’re in power."

"Hmm. Then what do you think we should do?"

For some reason, Kort seemed deeply interested in my opinion.

Was Claudia behind this? If so, I’d like to know exactly what she told him.

Still, this was an opportunity to make a good impression on a key Foreign Ministry figure.

"Britain may not be ready for war yet. They’ll want to buy time without provoking Germany. It will be very difficult to secure their help under those conditions."

In reality, during the Sudetenland Crisis, the conspirators’ plan hinged on Britain declaring war on Germany—only then would they overthrow Hitler.

They had contacted Britain before, but the result was the Munich Agreement. The Allies had preferred giving Hitler the Sudetenland over supporting the insurgents, even at the cost of being labeled traitors by Czechoslovakia.

"In my honest opinion, relying on Britain to overthrow the regime is a flawed strategy. After the trauma of the last war, Britain’s strong anti-war sentiment means they will never risk another conflict simply to help us seize power. France, their ally, will be equally reluctant."

The atmosphere at today’s meeting made it easy to understand why Britain ignored the insurgents and signed Munich. The conspirators had been fixated on Sudetenland and Danzig without even having seized power, while Hitler had secured an agreement—however temporary—not to demand more.

"Elections drive everything they do. To retain power, politicians must win them. No British or French leader will declare war at the end of their term just to support German resistance."

Indeed, Britain’s general election was due in November 1939, France’s in April 1940. No politician would start a war to defend an ally, let alone an enemy’s dissidents, with their own seat at stake.

In a democracy, elections are everything. As long as Hitler didn’t interfere with them directly, they would tolerate his actions.

"Rather, we must avoid a situation where they declare war on Germany. If that happens, public opinion will have shifted so strongly against Germany that we will be seen as no different from Hitler. To them, we are all the same enemy—Germany."

This was the fatal flaw of the historical resistance. Overthrowing Hitler after war broke out would do little to help Germany’s position. Civil war with Nazi remnants could even destroy the country entirely.

We had to act before Britain and France declared war.

Kort considered my words for a moment.

"This is a fresh perspective," he admitted. "And it makes sense. Honestly, it’s more realistic—diplomatically—than most of what we heard today."

"But then," Tresckow interjected, "how do you plan to remove the Nazis? The public’s support for them is real."

That was the real challenge.

It wasn’t stupidity that made the conspirators look to Britain—it was desperation. They knew that as long as Hitler enjoyed public support, bringing him down internally would be nearly impossible without the upheaval of war.

But that was exactly what needed to happen:

"They must discover that those who wrap themselves in the flag as patriots building a great Germany are, in truth, a corrupt and destructive force rotting the nation from within."