German Civil War – Oath of Allegiance (2)

October 10, 1939 — Potsdam, Brandenburg

Adolf Galland and Werner Mölders, rising Luftwaffe captains, sat holding beer mugs and sighing. Their direct superior, Director Wolfram von Richthofen, was known for his drinking, and he often invited them for drinks. It would have been nice to get there under normal circumstances.

"Schacht, that bastard! How well I treated him!"

Richthofen was intoxicated and shouting angrily.

"Hey, Mölders. Shouldn't we tell him to stop drinking now?"

"Are you going to try?"

Galland shook his head at Mölders' words, and the two looked at each other, toasting and taking sips. Cold beer ran down their throats, but neither could erase their subtle unease.

Most Air Force generals were either completely transferred from the army or were office workers rather than front-line pilots, so they rarely interacted. Therefore, the two respected and followed Richthofen quite well—he'd been with the Condor Legion since the Spanish Civil War—but even so, seeing their superior drinking as if broken was concerning.

"I thought he would become a star in the army, but he becomes a rebel instead?! How can he be so ungrateful! Right?! Galland! Say something!"

"Is that so..."

Galland replied vaguely, and Mölders looked at him with a bitter smile. Adolf Galland was already becoming disillusioned with the Nazi regime as a secret listener of new government radio.

He was a man full of gentlemanly spirit and honorable soldier's mind, and when this civil war broke out, Nazi atrocities spread by the new government were enough to blow away his loyalty.

Werner Mölders knew well but kept silent about his former direct superior and now close comrade Galland's behavior.

"I never knew the day would come when Marshal Göring would summon me to question my loyalty! How loyal I've been to the Luftwaffe and the regime—he's indifferent!"

Like Walter Model who'd recommended Dietrich Schacht, Richthofen—who'd worked with Schacht in Spain, given good reviews, and drunk with him—also raised suspicions from the Führer.

Though he'd escaped arrest under Göring's protection, he was displeased with being suspected after dedicating himself to Luftwaffe development from its early days.

"General, honestly, I'm not sure if it's worth maintaining allegiance to the current regime as a soldier."

Richthofen, who'd been lamenting, turned his gaze to Galland, who'd spoken boldly.

"Hey, Galland, are you drunk? Commander, this friend seems very drunk. I'll apologize for him."

Mölders tried to fix the situation hastily, but Richthofen stared at Galland with flushed face and spoke.

"So you dislike maintaining allegiance because the regime tormented and killed opponents in camps, and sold Austria?"

Galland's face hardened at Richthofen's words, but he nodded without hesitation.

"That's right. Shouldn't a country demanding allegiance from its soldiers show it's worthy of that allegiance and fighting without regret?"

Richthofen sighed. In fact, he knew because he'd listened to new government radio broadcasts.

In the end, the guy he'd recommended and been close to was the spokesperson—how could he not listen to the broadcasts?

"Galland, I care about you deeply, so I'll pretend I didn't hear that. I've been favored by Marshal Göring, haven't you been favored by me? I'm not going to force absolute allegiance to the government. Trust me and follow me."

"Understood. I'm sorry, Commander."

While smiling at Mölders, who was relieved, and Galland, who answered with bitter expression, Richthofen felt bitter.

He didn't feel terrible about atrocities committed by Nazis against enemies.

He was a man who didn't hesitate to burn civilians with incendiary bombs and could proudly become his enemies' demon for his country.

However, it was different that the regime attacked its own civilians and committed atrocities against Germans who were supposed to be defended in order to start war.

Were they really fighting for their country? Richthofen felt a headache and gulped down his beer.

"Well, if you've been favored, you must repay it. That's all."

Though Marshal Göring had recently lost some former sharpness and charm, Richthofen regarded him as a benefactor for actively pushing him to general rank.

Under his benefactor, he'd defend the homeland he'd sworn allegiance to, annihilate enemies, and rise to fame. As a soldier, it was simple and clear without needing to think about anything else.

"Schacht, bastard. If we meet again, I'll definitely beat you."

That nerdy guy—how good he'd been.

But even saying this, he'd also spent a short time with Dietrich Schacht.

He knew Schacht wasn't someone to revolt for no reason and falsely instigate residents, and what he'd learned through new government radio was shaking his faith.

Richthofen had regarded Hitler as a powerful leader who would make Germany—helpless since the last war—great again, and he hadn't hesitated telling others the Führer was a great leader.

He'd told Schacht that too. But if someone asked again, could he say it confidently now?

Was he really sure of himself, having told subordinates to trust and follow him?

October 10, 1939 — New Government Building, Frankfurt, 9th Military District

"Ah, suddenly."

Someone was talking about me. Honestly, too many people were pointing things out—

I walked wearily while looking at the pile of papers, rubbing my suddenly itching ears.

Though it was already dark at night, the new government building illuminated the night sky like a modern Korean street. Many were tired, but the new government had much work to do.

"Come here, Deputy Minister."

Defense Minister Ludwig Beck greeted me with tired face.

"Sorry for being late. It took longer than expected in the Ruhr."

I was returning from the Ruhr to inspect military equipment production, especially armored equipment.

First, though I was nominally Deputy Finance Minister, when it came to internal affairs or economy, I wouldn't dare appear before my father, so I handled public opinion warfare and military matters my father didn't know well.

"Oh yes. How are things?"

The Wehrmacht remaining with Nazis were main forces for Polish invasion, so naturally they had far superior equipment to new government forces, mainly composed of hastily gathered Army Group C deployed on the French front.

Our side used early light tanks Panzer I and II, while they had III and IV classified as medium tanks, and even their light tanks included Czech-made tanks better than ours.

However, with us controlling the Ruhr and ball bearing factories, replenishing their armor would be virtually impossible.

As the new government stabilized, we'd started producing proper tanks instead of early light tanks like Panzer I and II to compensate for armored power differences.

"Panzer IV production is proceeding smoothly. However, Panzer III has many productivity and defect problems."

Though General Model had taken Guderian's lessons and transferred me to armored class, I'd gained knowledge I hadn't known before.

This was somewhat odd. At least as far as I knew, Panzer III was the main tank and Panzer IV was made as support.

But why did Panzer IV have better anti-tank performance, more production, and even better stability? Modern German tanks like Tiger and Panther seemed far off.

"Panzer III has been troublesome for a long time, yes."

If it was the main tank, it had to deal with enemy tanks, but there were already more than twice as many powerful Panzer IVs in tank battles, and Panzer III was really ambiguous considering Panzer IV was our main opponent.

"Why don't we just unify with Panzer IV instead?"

Was it necessary to divide main and support tanks? Like the Soviet T-34, I thought it would be effective in many ways to just mass-produce one type.

"Panzer III was designed as main tank, so only the hull was optimized. We can't just discard it."

"Then instead of making turrets, let's convert them to assault guns. The turret weight overloads suspension anyway, so wouldn't that solve the problem?"

"Hmm."

An assault gun was a vehicle with a gun mounted directly in the hull instead of a rotating turret on the tank chassis.

There was the limitation that the turret couldn't rotate, but it could be made cheaply and quickly, allowing more to be deployed, and had advantages of mounting larger guns than when fitted with turrets.

If making them into tanks didn't seem very effective, then mass-producing assault guns made sense.

"If tank warfare feels uncertain with only Panzer IV, I think we could make a variant with anti-tank guns embedded in assault gun form."

The tank destroyer concept didn't seem to exist yet, but wasn't that essentially a tank destroyer?

Anyway, making them like that would solve productivity problems somewhat since we wouldn't need to build turrets and could use surplus Panzer III chassis.

"So you're proposing to unify main tanks with Panzer IV and use problematic Panzer III chassis for assault guns and anti-tank guns?"

"Yes, Minister. Rather, it would be better for productivity to reduce types and produce continuously."

I didn't have great military knowledge, but I knew that during World War II, Germany produced all sorts of weird variants, making military production efficiency hit rock bottom.

In Nazi Germany, collusion and corruption between Nazi party and corporations were so entangled like spider webs that there was no solution, and only after Albert Speer—Hitler's favorite—took over did things improve slightly, but we were at least free in that area.

Plus, we were getting Lee-Enfield rifle support from Britain, who'd really liked our last deal, so we could focus more on armor.

"Hmm, I'll discuss it with General Lutz."

"Thank you for listening to my inadequate comments."

Well, I was Deputy Finance Minister, only in my twenties, and though only a major militarily, Ludwig Beck was relatively generous with me.

I was very grateful, knowing it was common for military to intentionally ignore Hitler's instructions, even though he was Führer.

"The report is here, Minister. If there's nothing else, I'll just leave."

Putting the report down and speaking to Ludwig Beck, he was silent for a moment before speaking.

"Do you not resent me?"

Ludwig Beck wasn't a direct conspirator during the military government coup but had succumbed to occupation of radio stations and buildings.

In the name of new government regent, he'd directly broadcast proclaiming Wilhelm III as emperor and asked people to support the military government.

At that time, Frankfurter Zeitung newspapers had already been distributed at my request and Operation Freiheit had already started, so it wasn't a major factor, but the stigma that the new government head had succumbed to coup forces remained.

It was really breathtaking then. If Colonel Tresckow hadn't let me escape—

Or if I'd escaped without Claudia's help to quickly spread newspapers and leave Frankfurt, no one could predict what the new government would be like now.

"Is that the Minister's fault? I and others in the new government are also responsible for the new government's temporary incapacity."

I'd listened to Colonel Tresckow's warning and prepared countermeasures, but I hadn't known whether royalists—who'd hesitated so much at Munich—would show such bold moves, so it was certainly my fault.

"I see..."

After the military government was suppressed, Wilhelm III and my father had tried removing Ludwig Beck altogether.

However, the military objected, and I was able to keep him as Defense Minister after persuading the emperor and my father myself.

Though it was true we needed his military popularity—

"During Operation Widerstand, it was the Minister who allowed my activities—hated by working-level officials, especially royalists—and gave me the spokesperson position."

Director Canaris of Abwehr had supported me since Munich, but ultimately, if new government head Beck hadn't granted my request, I couldn't play this role now.

"I am not ignorant of grace, Minister."

"Right."

Beck smiled with slightly disappointed face.

"Thank you. You may go."

"Yes sir. Then I'll take my leave."

There were things I couldn't tell him. Even in original history, he'd been Black Orchestra head, and after Stauffenberg's failure he'd suffered painful suicide.

Even if their ideas were outdated and foolish, I wanted to do everything possible to respect those who'd stood against Hitler.

The fact that they—who should have met tragic ends—were still alive proved everything I'd done was worthwhile.

But those I really felt guilty about remained in Nazi territory.

The thought that maybe I could have persuaded them, if only I'd tried, came to mind and caught my ankle.

How were they now accepting me and the new government? My act of causing a coup without notifying them could be called betrayal.

I was afraid they might be in difficult situations because of me.

Model, Richthofen, Mikhail, Clemens.

My benefactor, my colleague, my friend.

Would they still be loyal to the Führer and Nazis?

Did they hate me?

I hoped not, but even if they did, I had no choice but to accept it.

Meanwhile, I'd been avoiding civil war escalation as much as possible through public opinion warfare.

However, conclusion with Nazis was imminent, and Hitler and Nazis would never quietly back down.

Ultimately, bloodshed to end civil war was inevitable.

It was to avoid the worst destruction of Nazi Holocaust and defeated nation in World War II, but those who'd survived original history might be sacrificed due to this change.

Maybe people I cared about would fall while opposing us.

I'd already made the resolution, but the weight of changing history pressed heavily on my shoulders.

Hopefully, the sacrifices would be fewer.