Chapter 168

January 25, 1941

Kulik's Army Group Center collapsed catastrophically.

A sudden retreat order sent over a million troops flocking to the railroads, and when the Luftwaffe began bombing them, the Soviet Army fell into great confusion.

More men were crushed to death in the panicked stampede than were killed by the small number of Luftwaffe planes, but the headquarters meant to resolve the chaos was already empty.

The forces that had crossed the Vistula River to capture Warsaw couldn't even manage that.

There was no way for hundreds of thousands of troops to cross the river again at once, and when Warsaw's forces launched a counterattack before they could cross, they resisted for a short while before immediately surrendering.

The moment the armored unit arrived behind the Soviet Army, which was already suffering losses from the mere act of retreating, let alone resisting, a one-sided pursuit and annihilation followed.

Realizing that Army Group Center, which had been advancing on Warsaw, was nearly disintegrating, Zhukov assigned its command authority to General Rokossovsky and hastily ordered Shaposhnikov's Army Group South to retreat.

But naturally, Blaskowitz and Sosnkowski of the Allied Army Group South did not just watch the scene unfold.

Army Group South, which was already defending part of the territory beyond the Vistula, had the leeway to move its tanks across the river in advance.

When their all-out offensive began, Shaposhnikov's retreat was delayed, and he paid a considerable price.

In the end, Zhukov ordered the units of Rokossovsky and Líster, along with the remnants of Army Group Center that had luckily escaped in time, to hold out in Lublin until Shaposhnikov's army could withdraw.

Zhukov hadn't just sent them to die; he tried to move Ivan Konev's Army Group North to help while Rokossovsky and Líster struggled, but Kluge's Army Group North, which had until then been inflicting losses through one-sided artillery duels with self-propelled guns, also launched an all-out offensive.

Ivan Konev succeeded in defending against Kluge's offensive by leveraging his numerical superiority, but that was all.

With the most intact army group tied down in the north, the defeat of the center and south was decided.

The Allied offensive continued until the end of January.

Rokossovsky and Líster fought with all their might, but when the Polish Resistance in the city also began to run rampant, they fell into chaos and were eventually pushed back as Lublin fell.

When Lublin fell, Shaposhnikov, who had been retreating while trying to minimize casualties under attack from Army Group South, had no choice but to accept the damage and order a full retreat.

With the deployment of 500,000 reinforcements from their home country at the end of the month, the Soviet Union barely managed to establish a front line in the Lviv area.

However, they had already lost the entire west bank of the Bug River except for Lviv.

They had given back more than half of the Sikorski Line, which they had crossed with countless sacrifices.

In the great battle where 2.

5 million Allied troops clashed with 4 million Soviet troops, the Allied Forces suffered 500,000 casualties, while the Soviet Army suffered 1.2 million casualties and 500,000 were taken as prisoners of war.

More than half of the losses suffered by the Soviet Union were from Army Group Center.

-

February 5, 1941

Moscow, Capital of the Soviet Union - The Kremlin Palace

Colonel General Georgy Zhukov swallowed dryly in front of the General Secretary's office.

Grigory Kulik was not only stripped of his Field Marshal rank and all his medals, but was also blamed for the defeat and hanged in front of the people, his corpse left on display.

The image of Kulik's corpse wouldn't leave Zhukov's mind—hung in Moscow Central Square as if for show, so badly damaged by the stones thrown by the people that it was a ghastly sight.

"You may enter, Comrade Colonel General."

"Thank you."

Even after swallowing, Zhukov felt his throat go bone-dry as he stepped into the General Secretary's office.

The General Secretary, who usually greeted him while busy at his office desk, was standing by the window, looking outside.

Zhukov idly recalled what lay in the direction the General Secretary was facing, and the memory of that wretched corpse sent a chill down his spine.

He was an arrogant man who would even shout at Stalin to make his point if necessary, but he could at least recognize a moment when he needed to lay low.

And now was a situation that demanded he lay very low.

His own neck could end up hanging like Kulik's, after all.

But the General Secretary said nothing, his back still turned, and his aide spoke up.

"Comrade General Secretary. It is Colonel General Georgy Konstantinovich Zhukov."

Stalin didn't answer, merely gesturing with his hand while his back remained turned.

As Zhukov approached with heavy steps, the General Secretary spoke, still facing away.

"If you have something to say, say it, Comrade Colonel General."

Zhukov felt his mind go completely blank.

Even he, who usually hurled insults at his subordinates and didn't hesitate to demote anyone who displeased him to a penal battalion, felt fear before the General Secretary.

Should I shift the blame to Kulik to avoid responsibility? Wouldn't I be purged for making pathetic excuses?

Should I just apologize and beg for forgiveness?

While a myriad of thoughts raced through his mind, Stalin leisurely stroked his mustache.

To save his own life, Zhukov finally dropped to his knees at the General Secretary's feet and shouted.

"I am deeply sorry, Comrade General Secretary!"

"For what?"

"Failing to properly control Kulik, who was under my command, and ultimately losing the battle is my sin, Comrade General Secretary!"

For his arrogant nature, begging for forgiveness for his own mistake was a considerable humiliation, but the General Secretary already held his leash.

Zhukov, deciding that prostrating himself was the only way to survive, apologized at length for the defeat. When his apologies had gone on for over five minutes, leaving him panting and unable to think of anything else to say, Stalin burst into laughter.

"Haha, hahahaha…"

The General Secretary lightly patted the shoulder of Zhukov, who was still kneeling before him.

Stalin, feigning amusement, walked to his office desk, leaving Zhukov kneeling.

Zhukov, his tension suddenly gone, remained still, ignoring the growing numbness in his legs. The General Secretary returned from his desk holding something and spoke.

"Why would that be your fault, Comrade Colonel General?"

As he said this, Stalin grabbed Zhukov's shoulder again and spoke.

"It's the fault of the one who relied on his petty rank and mishandled the people's army as he pleased.

Isn't that right, Comrade Colonel General?"

"Urk, y-you are absolutely right, Comrade General Secretary."

Despite his old age, Zhukov felt pain from Stalin's powerful grip, but he nodded eagerly.

"For a mere wretch of a Field Marshal to defy a Colonel General who received command authority from me, the General Secretary, is to disrespect me, the representative of all the people of the Soviet Union."

Zhukov was inwardly relieved when Stalin loosened his grasp, but Stalin pressed down on his shoulder again and spoke.

"Ugh…!"

"But tell me, Comrade Colonel General. What must be done to prevent this from happening again?"

Despite the sharp pain, Zhukov spat out the idea he had squeezed out with Shaposhnikov and Vasilevsky.

"Th-The military has agreed to propose you, Comrade General Secretary, as Generalissimo of the Soviet Union!"

"Generalissimo of the Soviet Union, you say?"

"Yes, Comrade General Secretary! We wish to propose you as Generalissimo to clarify that you are the master and supreme commander of the entire military. If you accept, the military will pledge its full loyalty!"

"Hmm, Generalissimo.

Generalissimo, you say. Haha…"

Stalin finally removed his hand from his shoulder, and Zhukov clutched his trembling shoulder, grinding his teeth inwardly.

"I suppose it can't be denied that the lowlifes dared to run wild because your rank as Colonel General was insufficient."

Without accepting or refusing the proposal for Generalissimo, Stalin placed the rank insignia and shoulder boards of a General of the Army into Zhukov's hands.

"Despite the act of betrayal by Kulik, the enemy of the people, you have rendered distinguished service in preventing the complete collapse of the Polish Front. Therefore, I appoint you General of the Army. Continue to devote your body and soul to the people of the Soviet Union."

"I-It is an honor, Comrade General Secretary!"

"Haha, you may rise now, Comrade General. Your legs must be sore."

At the General Secretary's feigned magnanimity, Zhukov staggered to his feet on legs that were already half-numb.

Seeing the large man Zhukov groaning and struggling, the General Secretary smiled again with satisfaction.

"Who would be a good replacement for Kulik?"

"I believe Comrade Konstantin Rokossovsky would be good, Comrade."

"Hmm…"

The General Secretary pretended to consider it, then asked with a malicious smile.

"I heard that comrade can barely walk with a limp even with his special boots. Can he handle such a heavy responsibility?"

Rokossovsky's predicament was due to the Great Purge approved by Stalin.

Zhukov's face nearly hardened at the General Secretary's comment about a superior he respected, but he quickly spoke again.

"I believe Comrade Rokossovsky proved his loyalty to the Soviet Union and its people in this battle, Comrade."

Stalin nodded and asked in return.

"Then, who will replace Comrade Rokossovsky?"

"I will appoint Comrade Vasily Chuikov."

"Ah, that comrade.

He did seem to have nothing to do after returning from the Republic of China. Very well, do as you wish."

"Thank you, Comrade General Secretary!"

Stalin smiled wordlessly and stared at Zhukov, who swallowed dryly, wishing he would just be told to leave already.

Stalin watched him for a moment before speaking.

"I hear as many as 500,000 troops surrendered this time, is that right?"

"Th-That is correct, Comrade General Secretary."

"Are they not truly impure comrades, lacking the loyalty to dedicate themselves to the people's victory?"

As Zhukov swallowed dryly, the General Secretary spoke.

"From now on, if any soldier surrenders, their entire family will be sent to the Gulag. I do not want any more weaklings who betray the people and surrender.

Do you understand what I'm saying, Comrade General?"

"Yes, sir, Comrade General Secretary!"

Zhukov answered while grinding his teeth inwardly.

Just imprisonment? To avoid suffering such humiliation again, he was more than motivated to prevent surrenders, even if it meant executing all the families of those who capitulated.

Stalin smiled with a feigned benevolent expression and patted Zhukov's shoulder.

It was the same shoulder the General Secretary had been pressing on, so even that light touch sent a throbbing pain through it, but Zhukov gritted his teeth and endured.

"I was thinking of ending this war if we won this battle, Comrade."

"I apologize, Comrade General Secretary."

"We 'unavoidably' suffered one defeat because of Kulik, that traitor to the people, but if we try to end the war here, wouldn't the prestige of the Union fall to the ground?"

Zhukov could only swallow dryly, unable to answer, and Stalin spoke with a smile as if it were nothing.

"Fortunately, Comrade Meretskov is on the verge of breaking through that Mannerheim Line and securing Karelia. So, Comrade."

"Yes, Comrade General Secretary."

"Until Finland is completely crushed, do not retreat a single inch.

Not. One.

Inch. Do you understand?"

"I will take it to heart, Comrade General Secretary!"

"Haha, I feel so reassured having my Comrade General.

Hahaha…"

Stalin was smiling with satisfaction, yet his eyes glared at Zhukov as if to say he wouldn't be let off the hook a second time.

'Damn it, that mustached devil.

'

Zhukov broke out in a cold sweat, just wishing for this meeting to end quickly.

-

February 6, 1941

Warsaw, Capital of Poland – Allied Headquarters

I was visiting Warsaw for the first time in a while to meet the high command of the German-Polish Allied Forces.

"Welcome, Vice Minister. We welcome you."

"Congratulations on your victory, Mr. Inspector General of the Armed Forces."

Seeing the usually stern Sikorski greet me with a faint smile, I felt a small sense of relief.

No matter how much he was a man prepared to sacrifice himself for his country, Poland's situation until now must have been a great mental burden on him.

Seeing the other Polish high command members with significantly brighter expressions wasn't a bad feeling.

Poland still has much of its territory occupied, but for them, who had been consistently pushed back, reclaiming the territory on the west bank of the Bug River must be a great source of hope.

I turned my head and offered my sincere praise.

"I never imagined you would achieve such a great victory with a perfect counterattack in such a difficult situation. It was a truly magnificent battle."

"It's thanks to the excellent performance of the generals under my command, Vice Minister."

At the reaction of Fedor von Bock, still as cantankerous as ever but not forgetting the merits of his subordinates, all the general officers present smiled.

It was a victory we desperately needed while being pressured on two fronts.

If we had lost this battle, we might have been dragged into the war with France as well, so no amount of gratitude is enough for them.

"It is thanks to everyone playing their part, even though the enemy's operation was excellent. I also express my deep gratitude to Poland for making a bold decision while Warsaw was under attack."

A cheerful atmosphere unfolded, with everyone smiling happily.

But Manstein, having been thoroughly beaten after underestimating Zhukov, is probably making a sullen face in Berlin right now.

Our victory was, in fact, achieved thanks to the valiant fight of the detached force led by Generals Lutz and Hube, the cooperation determined by each army group, Poland's decision, and the incompetence of the enemy commander, Kulik.

Zhukov responded by accurately seeing through Manstein's operational plan, so regrettably, the first showdown between Manstein and Zhukov ended in an ambiguous result that could hardly be called Manstein's victory.

Of course, Manstein had the disadvantage of having little time to plan a counter-operation on the Eastern Front right after succeeding in Operation Winter Storm, but he'll probably be more prudent in the future.

As I was thinking that, General of the Panzer Troops Oswald Lutz, wearing a very strangely shaped necklace, approached me.

"General. I'm glad you're safe."

The fact that the terribly dented thing was the cross necklace that took a shrapnel hit for him had already become famous.

"My apologies, Vice Minister. Because of this old man's stubbornness, our precious armored unit suffered great damage."

"Not at all, General. It's also true that your bold decision and valiant fight led us to victory."

If General Lutz had acknowledged the operation's failure and retreated after confirming the enemy's defense line, we would have only pushed the front line at the cost of countless sacrifices.

Even if it was due to the greed of wanting to end his last battle with a victory, it was, in a way, thanks to him that a battle that would have been Manstein's defeat was turned into a victory on points.

"…I see. Thank you for saying so. It lessens the burden on my heart, if only a little."

Although he fell behind midway, his last battle, fighting at the forefront leading his armored unit without being flustered even in the worst situation, will remain as a glorious record.

The man who had requested resignation for health reasons, Guderian's mentor and the true father of the German armored forces, had a bittersweet expression.

"What do you plan to do after you retire?"

Lutz smiled brightly.

"I plan to write my memoirs and attend the church."

"Haha, is that so…"

Claudia dislikes the church, so I don't attend either, but for someone like General Lutz, it seems like he'd find faith even if he didn't have it before.

"Wasn't your friend also protected by God? It's the first time I've ever seen someone survive a sniper shot by getting hit in the butt."

"Ah, yes…"

I was already freaked out by the news that Clemens had been shot, so I rushed to the hospital as soon as I arrived in Warsaw, only to be dumbfounded at the sight of him sitting there perfectly fine, munching on an apple.

I was prepared to be severely blamed, but he didn't even pay attention to me, too preoccupied with the Polish female soldier who saved him to even get her name. When he asked me to pass on his thanks, I felt completely deflated.

I looked at the very cheerful high command of both nations and gave a bitter smile to myself.

The field commanders might not know, but from my position, I wasn't entirely at ease.

It was a great victory, but a great victory with far too many casualties.

The German Army alone suffered 300,000 casualties; including the Polish Army, the total losses are 500,000.

Of course, the scale of the front was different, but damage as great as during Rundstedt's last defeat is back-breaking for us as well.

Still, a great victory is a great victory, and the power gap of 2.

5 million to 4 million has now narrowed to 2 million to 2.8 million.

Since both sides suffered massive damage this time, the Eastern Front will likely enter a lull for a while as they focus on recovering from their losses.

Meanwhile, in Finland, despite Field Marshal Mannerheim's best efforts, the Mannerheim Line was finally breached, and the Soviet Army is said to have begun pouring into Karjala (Karelia).

The war situation is not entirely favorable, but both Finland and Poland have bought us the maximum amount of time they could.

And during that time, we focused on crushing all of France's hopes, and now the moment to truly end the war with France has come.

I'm really curious what La Rocque's expression is like right now.