Chapter 400140Chapter NaN

October 3, 1940

Malay Peninsula, Singapore

Commander of the Japanese Imperial Forces for the Malayan Campaign, Lieutenant General Yamashita Tomoyuki, sat at the negotiation table, watching the White general across from him tremble as he held a pen.

Singapore had finally fallen.

Though Australia and New Zealand belatedly entered the war and attempted a rescue, there was little they could do after the Imperial Japanese Navy destroyed the British Far East Fleet and seized control of the seas.

Commander of the British Malayan Army, Lieutenant General Lionel Bond, had fought a desperate battle under Churchill's orders despite being outnumbered, but unlike in the original history, defeat was a foregone conclusion with no hope of help from the US Army or the home country.

The only reason Lieutenant General Bond and the British forces held out longer than the 60 days of the original history was that this was not an offensive launched after the meticulously prepared attack on Pearl Harbor, but one the Japanese Empire had planned only after seeing the success of France's surprise attack on Britain.

As Lieutenant General Bond just sat there with his hand trembling, a fed-up Lieutenant General Yamashita spoke.

But the moment comes when one must accept defeat. So, is the answer Yes or No?"

Yamashita's question contained a measure of respect for his enemy, but it was ultimately an act of coercing a signature.

Hearing Lieutenant General Yamashita's words through an interpreter with very poor pronunciation, General Bond finally squeezed his eyes shut.

He would be remembered as a defeated general who had disgracefully surrendered to the monkeys of the East as a proud member of the British Army, but he could not let all the subordinates who had fought their best until the very end die.

After finally signing, Lieutenant General Yamashita glanced at Lieutenant General Bond being led away as a prisoner with a lifeless expression, and smiled with satisfaction.

"A victory glorious enough to be dedicated to His Majesty the Emperor."

Yamashita paid no mind, assuming the honorable Imperial Army would properly treat the British POWs who had fought so hard, but General Bond, who had surrendered to save his subordinates, would end up regretting it with every fiber of his being.

Even the phrase 'Yes or No?', which Lieutenant General Yamashita had asked with courtesy toward the enemy commander, would be distorted into a story of how the terrified general had begged for his life and surrendered after Yamashita had bellowed at him, but for now, the Lieutenant General was in a good mood.

By securing Singapore and British Malaya, the Japanese Empire obtained enough resources to somewhat recover from America's trade sanctions and secured a way to support Chandra Bose's Provisional Government of Free India, which was engaging British forces in India.

Securing Burma in Eastern India would block the Republic of China, which was stubbornly holding out, from receiving aid from other countries, dealing it a fatal blow, and occupying India would completely cut off Britain's reach into Asia.

The realization of the Great Japanese Empire's Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere seemed to be just around the corner.

"Long live His Majesty the Emperor! Your Excellency, Lieutenant General! A telegram from the Imperial General Headquarters!"

"Hmm, long live His Majesty the Emperor."

Lieutenant General Yamashita Tomoyuki took the telegram from his subordinate, tore it open, and slightly furrowed his brow.

"Was the code decrypted incorrectly?"

"N-No, sir, Your Excellency, Lieutenant General!"

Lieutenant General Tomoyuki squinted and looked at the telegram's contents again, but soon nodded.

"Hmm, I understand. The orders of the Imperial General Headquarters are the orders of His Majesty the Emperor. We shall implement them immediately."

The Japanese Army, the only one of the Axis Powers to achieve any great performance, received the order from Lieutenant General Yamashita Tomoyuki after having forced British Malaya to surrender, and immediately began moving toward its next target.

---

October 3, 1940

Near Brussels, the capital of Belgium – German Garrison in Belgium

It had been less than two weeks of actual engagement with the main French force since France had declared war on Belgium on September 17.

The German soldiers, who had gone to bed at 1 AM after the previous day's battle, had to wake up as soon as 6 AM struck, listening to a broadcast from General of Armored Troops Walther Model.

[Wake up, Gentlemen. It's time to open your eyes, tired as you may be.

]

"Ugh, damn it, I'm dead tired…"

"Ah, I'm so fucking tired…"

The troops grumbled, but as if accustomed to it, they roused their fatigue-ridden bodies and hurriedly began to wash up.

At least the Belgians paid decent attention to the garrison of the German expeditionary unit, which was showing a truly dazzling performance on the front lines, so the troops could wash and eat a proper meal on the days they slept at the garrison.

The Belgians, who had initially reacted as if they were holding hands out of necessity due to what the German army had done in the last Great War, now treated Model's unit with the proper courtesy of a grateful ally.

[For your information, this morning's breakfast is tasteless bread and dry potatoes, with some somewhat edible sausage.

It's a world of difference from combat rations, so aren't you happy?]

Commander of the German Expeditionary Force in Belgium, Walther Model, was famous for waking up at 5 AM like a machine and starting his daily routine, no matter what time he went to bed or if he had been drinking the night before.

At the General's broadcast, who had finished his meal before anyone else and was jokingly announcing the breakfast menu, the troops also headed to the dining hall with faint smiles.

[It will be tough, but you all must give it your all again today. This is a foreign country, but do not forget the fact that the more you roll around here, the safer our home country becomes.

]

The troops diligently pushed bread and potatoes into their mouths and chewed on sausages to prepare for the day.

Everyone was tired, and while they might grumble about it, almost no one questioned why they were here doing this.

[As I always say, this is a war to protect our fatherland, and it is a war that we must end.]

They were all fighting a war to protect their fatherland, and they knew it well.

The phrases from the Vice-Chancellor's speech had become common expressions used by the general officers of the German National Defense Forces to encourage their subordinates.

[We set out at 0800 hours sharp.

Then, I'm counting on you again today, Gentlemen. As your commander, I am always grateful for your struggles and dedication.

If by some chance there's an ungrateful idiot, let me know. I'll kick them in the ass.

]

At the familiar, joke-filled end of the broadcast, the troops snickered and shoveled food into their mouths.

They were far too busy, and there were far too many front lines that needed them.

It was an adverse condition, but even that was their pride.

The morale of those who went into battle knowing what they were fighting for and why was higher than ever before.

---

October 4, 1940

Brussels, the capital of Belgium

But contrary to the atmosphere at the front, the situation at the Belgian Leadership was chaotic.

German Foreign Minister Ernst von Weizsäcker was meeting with Belgian Prime Minister Hubert Pierlot and Chief of the General Staff Oscar Michiels, unable to hide his bewilderment.

"I have heard news that Belgium is already considering surrender. Is that true?"

To Weizsäcker's question, Prime Minister Pierlot answered with a dark expression.

"Our government and parliament do not want to surrender. But unfortunately, His Majesty the King, the commander-in-chief of the military, is considering surrender."

Weizsäcker felt his head spin.

How could they be talking about surrender before they had even fought for two weeks?

"Didn't your country declare a general mobilization? Why so suddenly…"

"Out of our 400,000 troops, 80,000 casualties have already been incurred."

Chief of the General Staff Michiels said with a somber face.

Thanks to the Luftwaffe and Model's armored unit, the casualty ratio itself was close to 1:2.

The Belgian army had 80,000 casualties, but the French army had over 150,000.

However, while that was less than 10% damage for the French Army, it meant that 20% of the Belgian army had already been annihilated.

"The air support and armored unit sent by Germany have been a great help, but we are ultimately being pushed back continuously."

Model's fire brigade had become a symbol of terror to the French army and was performing great feats, but at the end of the day, it was literally just a fire brigade and, due to its limited scale, could not cover all fronts.

While the Belgian army gained the upper hand where Model's unit appeared, other fronts were helplessly pushed back, and this situation repeated until the front line reached the doorstep of the capital, Brussels.

For a small country like Belgium, even the 400,000 troops were a combination of the standing army and hastily mobilized reserve forces.

Even though they had declared a general mobilization, at this rate, they would have to send newly mobilized reserves to the battlefield without even training them.

"It seems His Majesty the King would rather surrender before seeing the capital, Brussels, being swept up in the flames of war."

Hearing the words of the Belgian Chief of the General Staff Michiels, Weizsäcker felt like clicking his tongue.

The war with France had just begun; it was unexpected that Belgium would lose its will to fight so quickly.

"How can you give up so quickly, knowing what will become of Belgium's fate if you just surrender like this?"

"Neither our cabinet nor our parliament wants to surrender. But the military authority lies with His Majesty the King. If His Majesty the King orders the military to surrender, there is nothing we can do immediately."

Prime Minister Pierlot seemed quite indignant, but Weizsäcker was frustrated.

"Well, it seems the Chief of the General Staff shares the Prime Minister's will, is it that difficult to persuade him?"

But upon hearing Weizsäcker's words, the Belgian Chief of the General Staff Michiels let out a deep sigh.

"His Majesty listens not to me, but to his confidant, Sir van Overstraeten."

"Sir van Overstraeten? Is he also part of the General Staff…?"

There was no answer from the two men to Weizsäcker's question.

Only sighs filled the air.

After a long moment, Chief of the General Staff Oscar Michiels spoke.

"He is not. He only holds the rank of Major General. But the command of the military is with His Majesty the King, and since His Majesty does not listen to the General Staff but only to Sir van Overstraeten, there is nothing we can do."

Weizsäcker felt like grabbing the back of his neck.

For the military to be swayed by the opinion of an unofficial power broker, a confidant of the King and not even part of the General Staff—what kind of war could he fight with a nation like this?

General Walther Model's unit was deep inside Belgium to help them, so what if they just up and surrendered?

"His Majesty the King has laid down a condition for continuing the fight. We need your cooperation, but…"

"What is it? If it is possible, I will consider it."

But unfortunately for Weizsäcker, the statement made by the Belgian Chief of the General Staff Michiels was absurd.

"His Majesty the King has said he will continue the fight if the Allied Powers send at least 300,000 additional reinforcement troops."

"I'm sorry, what? The Belgian Army is 320,000 strong! Where are we supposed to create and send such a force?"

When it came to the Allied Powers, Britain couldn't create 300,000 troops while its homeland was under attack, and Germany had already sent Model's 100,000 and was on the verge of fighting in Italy, Britain, and Poland.

To the flabbergasted Weizsäcker, Michiels also made excuses with a slightly apologetic face.

"I'm sorry, but that is not my opinion. It must be the opinion of His Majesty the King, or rather, of Sir van Overstraeten."

Weizsäcker tiredly raised a hand and wiped his face.

He would have felt a little more supported if the Vice-Chancellor had come with him, but he and Vice Foreign Minister Kort were down in Milan for peace negotiations with Italy.

"This is not a matter I can answer immediately, but the German Army does not have troops to spare.

Is this really the only way?"

To send 300,000 reinforcements, the only options were for General Witzleben's Army Group C to practically abandon the defense of the Siegfried Line and come to the rescue, or to turn around Rundstedt's Army Group, which had just come up from Italy to be deployed to the Eastern Front.

As if Belgium also knew this was an unreasonable demand, Prime Minister Hubert Pierlot, who met the eyes of Chief of Staff Michiels, sighed softly and spoke.

"Even if His Majesty the King decides to surrender, our parliament intends to resist the French invasion. If it's unavoidable, we will even consider forming a government-in-exile in Germany. But I cannot guarantee how much of the military will follow."

Weizsäcker was simply dumbfounded.

These were the same fellows who, when asked to open their borders in exchange for various rewards, had cited what Germany did in the last Great War and argued for absolute neutrality. And now that they've been invaded, they're ripping their shirts open and threatening to surrender if they don't get more reinforcements.

But if he refused them flatly, France would get its hands on all of Belgium and threaten the Ruhr, and General Model's reinforcements would be at risk of isolation.

The Ardennes, through which General Model's unit had passed, had already been partially secured by the French army, so turning back the way they came was not a simple matter.

He had sent precious armored units as reinforcements, thinking they would fight for at least a month, only to be backstabbed like this.

King Leopold III of Belgium might be doing what he thinks is for his country, but it was a shameless course of action reminiscent of his predecessor of the same name.

Weizsäcker ground his teeth inwardly but smiled politely and said,

"I understand. I will discuss it with my home country."

"Thank you, Foreign Minister. Even at this moment, Belgian soldiers are falling, so we will expect a positive answer."

At the gazes of the Belgian Prime Minister and Chief of Staff, who, while saying it was just the King's idea, were implicitly showing their expectations, Weizsäcker let out a small sigh and turned his back.