Chapter 180

March 21, 1941

Central Netherlands, near Utrecht – Doorn House

“I understand Germany’s stance, but I hope you will also understand the Netherlands’ position. After the last Great War, we rejected the demand to hand over Wilhelm II as a war criminal, despite pressure from Britain and France.”

“Germany’s home country, as well as the Imperial family, are grateful for the Netherlands’ consideration.”

At the words of the Dutch Foreign Minister, Eelco van Kleffens, Erich Kordt, now a Foreign Minister himself, replied with a full-blown professional smile.

But Kleffens sighed softly and opened his mouth.

“On that condition, we demanded that Wilhelm II be prohibited from any sort of political activity.

As you know, that is not being observed at all.”

Kordt’s expression became troubled.

“To be frank, we have no desire to be caught between this troublesome former German emperor and Germany’s conflict any longer. Please keep in mind that we, too, must follow the public opinion of our people.”

“I understand. I can only hope that the Former Emperor will comply with the German government’s demands.”

“We hope so too.”

Erich Kordt nodded and was guided by an attendant into the castle.

After being deposed by the revolution following his defeat in World War I, Wilhelm II had bought a fancy castle in the Netherlands, smuggled out the imperial family’s assets, and had been living lavishly with dozens of servants.

For Kordt, who had experienced the great confusion of the Weimar Republic, the rampage of the Nazis, and the German Civil War, it was a situation that made him want to scoff internally, but hardened by years as a diplomat, he walked the castle’s corridor with a broad smile on his face.

His first mission as Foreign Minister was a rather awkward one, but Erich Kordt’s mood was not bad.

He never thought the connection that started with the female reporter Claudia Jung, who used to frequent the State Foreign Ministry during the Nazi Germany era, would lead to this, but his judgment had been correct.

He hadn’t expected to see results so soon, but thanks to Dietrich Schacht’s great performance, he had become the Foreign Minister instead of Weizsäcker, whom he had served until now.

“Your Majesty the Emperor.

I am Erich Kordt, the German Foreign Minister.”

His Majesty the Emperor?

Kordt was inwardly baffled by the attendant’s words, but he didn't let it show.

“Let him enter.”

Erich Kordt stepped inside and came face to face with Wilhelm II, who was dressed in a splendid suit and held a wine glass in his hand.

Despite being at an age where he could pass away at any moment, Wilhelm II looked rather vigorous.

'Did the restoration of the monarchy breathe some hope into him?'

Thinking so, Erich Kordt glanced at the mustache that was the symbol of the 'Kaiser' and the left hand tucked into his pocket due to a congenital disability, then took a deep breath and spoke.

“I am Erich Kordt, the German Foreign Minister. Your Majesty, the Former Emperor.”

At Kordt’s words, spoken with a strained smile, Wilhelm II’s face hardened, and he corrected him.

“I am the rightful Emperor of Germany.”

Kordt decided to just state his business rather than react to every little thing.

“Your Majesty, the Former Emperor, the German government has decided to permit your return to the home country, on the condition that you acknowledge the succession to the throne of His Majesty Wilhelm III and refrain from any actions against parliamentary democracy.”

Erich Kordt watched Wilhelm II’s face contort with rage and prepared himself not to be flustered by whatever he might say.

“Are you a Junker?”

But even Kordt, who was prepared for any reaction, found himself stunned by the former emperor’s question.

“…I am not, Your Majesty, the Former Emperor.”

“Then are you the Chancellor of the German Empire, appointed directly by the Imperial family?”

“I am not, Your Majesty, the Former Emperor.

I am a Member of Parliament elected by the German people, nominated by the Prime Minister—”

“In that case, you, who dare insult the rightful Emperor of the German Empire, I, deserve to be executed, no?”

'Ah.'

Erich Kordt thought.

This man is hopeless. Has he gone senile?

At that moment, Kordt saw a wine glass flying toward him and ducked in alarm.

As the sound of the wine glass shattering against the wall echoed, a cold sweat ran down his spine.

“Get out! If you wish to negotiate with I, you should at least be the Chancellor appointed by the Crown Prince!”

'Ah, damn it.

'

He belatedly regretted that he hadn't forced the position of Vice-Minister of Foreign Affairs onto Dietrich Schacht and dragged him along.

“Regrettably, if that is your stance, then Germany cannot accept Your Majesty, the Former Emperor’s return.”

Hearing Kordt’s words, the emperor shouted almost convulsively.

“It is the German Empire! The imperial system has been restored, yet I cannot go to Germany! The Crown Prince, tell the Crown Prince to come at once! Who on earth has the right to commit such an atrocity!”

Watching the emperor who once commanded Germany flail about with a beet-red face, Kordt felt a sense of pity instead.

Wondering how he should ask for the Dutch Foreign Minister’s understanding, Kordt sighed and looked at the emperor.

Wouldn't Dietrich Schacht have said something like this? Kordt thought as he answered the emperor’s question that wasn't really a question.

“The German people do, Your Majesty. They are no longer your subjects.”

-

March 22, 1941

The sea of Northern Germany, the Baltic Sea

Charles de Gaulle, commander of the French Army expeditionary force, watched the scenery of the Northern German coast on the Baltic Sea from the deck of the ship, then slowly closed his eyes.

A significant number of the units that had been with him in Britain had voluntarily offered to follow him, but many had not.

The 1 million soldiers who had volunteered or been requisitioned to maintain the Grand Army, including the remaining forces, were given a brief time to spend with their families in shifts before departure.

However, among those who spent time with their families, a considerable number deserted in the gloomy atmosphere.

The new Prime Minister, Philippe Pétain, flew into a rage, trying to hunt down the deserters and arrest them as traitors, and to halt the meetings between the Finnish Expeditionary Force and their families.

In that situation, De Gaulle’s plea was accepted, and fortunately, the soldiers' opportunity to see their families was preserved in the form of bringing the families to Calais for meetings managed by the Military Police, instead of leave.

As a result, the force confirmed for departure to Germany was only 970,000 strong. Just the departure from France resulted in losses of 30,000 to desertion.

Pétain’s attempt to fill those 30,000 by conscription was canceled after intense internal conflict within France.

Even in the grim atmosphere of defeat, the voices of self-proclaimed patriots who could never accept the disbandment of the Grand Army could not overcome the cries of those who had to send their family members, who had barely survived the battlefield, back to that distant deathtrap.

Naturally, the expeditionary force’s morale was extremely low.

As a result of busily moving about to whip the slackening military discipline back into shape, insisting on a crisply starched uniform even in such circumstances, De Gaulle could now commonly hear himself being cursed everywhere.

It was difficult to say the French Army's situation was good, not even as an empty platitude, but he had to fulfill this duty for his homeland.

“What a reassuring welcome.”

De Gaulle turned his head at the words of his close friend and Chief of Staff, Alphonse Juin, and looked at the massive battleship floating in the waters off Danzig.

The Bismarck-class battleship, Tirpitz.

With the Bismarck under repair and the Jean Bart, plundered from France, still requiring more time for construction, this was the ship currently serving as the flagship of the German Navy.

“They’re using a very extravagant method to threaten us that they’ll sink us to the bottom of the Baltic Sea if we try any funny business.”

That was the statement from Jean de Lattre de Tassigny, who had served as De Gaulle’s adjutant in Italy and had come along this time as well.

De Gaulle glared at the Tirpitz before turning his head again to look at the approaching port city of Danzig.

The port was filled with German soldiers, making it impossible to tell if it was a welcoming crowd or a threatening one.

And in their midst, a single politician stood out, wearing a suit.

De Gaulle took a handkerchief from his pocket.

The item his wife, Yvonne, had handed him with a gaunt face when they met in Calais after a long time.

Looking at it for a moment, De Gaulle quietly pressed his lips to the handkerchief.

-

“As I'm sure you're aware, we must not have any unnecessary conflicts with the French Army.”

“I understand.”

“We are aware, Minister.”

General Karl Eglseer, an Austrian, and Inspector General of Fighters Werner Mölders replied respectively.

These two would be dispatched to Finland together, to act as liaisons and to coordinate with the French Army.

“The Luftwaffe will be operating alongside the Finnish Air Force, but if you have the spare capacity, I would appreciate it if you would entertain the requests of the French Army.”

“Leave it to me, Minister.

I know what you are concerned about.”

Werner Mölders replied with a smile.

I had considered the gentlemanly Adolf Galland as the commander of the Luftwaffe to be sent to Finland, but he wanted to join Douglas Bader of the RAF, who would be dispatched to the Eastern Front.

So, Werner Mölders, who was respected by his subordinates and had a relatively gentle disposition, was dispatched.

It was a bit awkward asking someone of the rank of Inspector General of Fighters to do such a thankless job, but it was a relief that he readily agreed.

Unlike Richthofen, he has a good grasp of politics…

I turned my gaze to Karl Eglseer.

“As a general with extensive experience in winter warfare, I trust you will be able to support the French Army, which lacks it.”

“Don't you worry, Minister.

I hold no particular grudge against our French friends.”

During the negotiations with France, there were many opinions within Germany that we should take command of the French Army to be dispatched to Finland.

It was a plausible opinion, given the distrust of the French Army, but would the French Army really follow a German general’s command? We'd be lucky not to get shot in the back.

But we couldn't just leave them be, so we had to attach a general to act as a liaison and discuss cooperation, and he was the one chosen due to a severe lack of personnel in the German Army who could talk with the French with a smile.

While national sentiment between Austria and France isn't exactly great, it's not as bad as Germany's, and General Eglseer has never directly engaged the French Army.

Moreover, having defeated Italo Balbo's Italian Army with only the Austrian border guards, he is an expert in mountain and winter warfare.

His know-how will be helpful in Finland, which will be as cold as an Alps winter even in March.

“I will trust you two.

Although they were our enemy, for now, they must be treated as our ally… or at least as something similar.”

As we were talking, the French commanders disembarked from the ship.

Commander-in-Chief Charles de Gaulle, Chief of Staff Alphonse Juin, and his subordinate army commanders, General Philippe de Hauteclocque and Jean de Lattre de Tassigny.

As the French generals approached, tension filled the air between the two sides.

Wearing a crisply pressed uniform and the distinctive French military cap, Charles de Gaulle, with an arrogant expression, came close to me and looked down on me with his height of over 190 cm.

My height isn't short by the standards of this era, but there's almost a full head of difference.

In this situation, despite the difference in our stances, De Gaulle’s charisma put considerable pressure on me.

I felt a sense of déjà vu from him.

Who was it that gave off this feeling?

Hitler? No. More like…

Ah, he’s more like Sikorski.

Even when his country was on the brink of ruin, his demeanor as he calmly told me his plan to save Poland was desperate, but not servile.

De Gaulle’s eyes resembled his back then.

The eyes of a man who would never give up or bow down, no matter what adverse conditions his country faced, or even if it were to fall.

I smiled faintly, greeted him in French, and offered a handshake.

“It is a pleasure to meet you like this, General Charles de Gaulle. I am Dietrich Schacht, the German Minister of Defense.”

De Gaulle accepted the handshake with a stern face and replied.

“A pleasure.

I am Charles de Gaulle.”

Curt, aren't we? If it weren't in French, he probably wouldn't have even replied.

“You must be tired from your long journey. We have prepared a camp on the outskirts of the city so your soldiers can rest on land until the troop movement from France is complete.”

It's impossible to move a massive French army of 970,000 by ship all at once, so the ships have to shuttle between Calais and Danzig to transport the French forces.

That Germany’s transport ships, which would have been sunk by the Allied Powers during the invasion of Norway, are now being used to move the French Army is the height of irony.

It's an unavoidable measure, as it wouldn't be strange for some incident to break out if such a large French force were to cross the middle of Germany.

Still, at the fact that we had shown at least some minimal consideration, I could see De Gaulle’s expression relax ever so slightly.

“This is General Werner Mölders, who will serve as the German Air Force’s liaison and commander at the deployment site.”

“I look forward to working with you.”

“He says he’s looking forward to it, haha. This is General Karl Eglseer.

He will be dispatched to the French Army as a liaison officer and military advisor for the German Army.”

“A pleasure.

Karl Eglseer of Austria.”

“He says it’s a pleasure.”

The Minister of Defense himself was acting as the interpreter, but De Gaulle did not take it entirely well.

“Do you intend to wield us as Germany pleases?”

“No, General.”

I immediately denied it, but the glares from the French generals and De Gaulle were not friendly.

As even the German soldiers who couldn't understand the words began to look grim, reading the atmosphere, I let out a small sigh.

“General, what was stipulated in the Treaty of Amsterdam was only the dispatch of the French Army to the Finnish Front. While reparations will be reduced according to your army’s performance, there are no other obligations.”

De Gaulle’s eyes narrowed as if trying to gauge my intentions.

I had thought a lot about this meeting with De Gaulle.

About how I could make the French Army defend Finland well, without causing conflict with Germany.

But no matter how much I thought about it, based on the course of action Charles de Gaulle showed in the original history, I came to the conclusion that it would be difficult for me to manipulate him to my will.

Now that I'm facing him in person, I see I thought well.

“Finland’s climate will be quite harsh for the French Army.

The fact that we are preparing winter gear for your army is not to simply pass it off to gouge more reparations, but a truly indispensable measure that you will naturally come to understand once you get there.”

“…”

“The reason we are sending General Eglseer with you is because, as an Austrian, he has experience in winter warfare in the Alps, and I believe that will be helpful to the French Army.”

I looked straight up at De Gaulle and added.

“General Mölders and General Eglseer are merely liaisons, not your superiors.

If you need anything on site, please request it through them. As Germany’s Minister of Defense, I will review it and am willing to find a way for any possible parts.”

De Gaulle was silent for a moment before asking.

“What do you want from us in return for doing so?”

“We want nothing from your French Army.”

“Want nothing?”

I nodded at De Gaulle’s question.

“Yes.

We want nothing. Even if your French Army is simply stationed on the Finnish front, our minimum objective will be achieved.”

As long as the staunch anti-communist Philippe Pétain is the head of the government and Charles de Gaulle is the local commander, if we just do the basics, the possibility of France and the Soviet Union cooperating through a secret agreement is almost nil.

In that case, even if the French Army does nothing and just holds its ground on the Finnish front, the Soviet Union will have no choice but to disperse its forces to defend the strategic hub of Leningrad.

It's too much to expect the French Army, whose morale is already at rock bottom from their defeat, to exert its full combat power in the severe cold and pressure the Soviets.

“Therefore, we will do our best to ensure there are no disruptions to the French Army's supplies, and we will strive to resolve any solvable issues.”

The expressions on the French generals’ faces were ambiguous.

They must be half-believing, half-doubting.

“As Germany’s Minister of Defense, I can tell you one thing for certain. Finland, where your army will be dispatched, is a member of the Allied Powers, a country that has bled fiercely against the Soviet Union for longer than any other.”

Although they are a small nation located on the periphery of Europe and are largely ignored, they have fought more fiercely than anyone.

“Therefore, we will fully respect your army, which is going to help our precious ally.

What happens after that is up to your army.”

At this point, when Finland, which has fought desperately despite the overwhelming difference in national power, is finally collapsing, the arrival of the French Army is a hope for salvation.

To help such a Finland, it's better to help them by reassuring the French Army even a little, rather than getting into a pointless war of nerves with them just because we're the victors.

For that purpose, I am acting as the interpreter myself, without specifically calling for an interpreter officer.

“Even if you just station your troops without any engagement, your army will be a great help to Finland, and if your army actively helps Finland, you could become Finland’s heroes.”

I don't know yet if they, upon arriving in Finland, will mock its poor situation and act arrogantly, or if they will just pretend to be stationed there, washing their hands of it as if it's not their problem, or if they will empathize with Finland and fight with all their might to restore France’s prestige.

“Your army’s actions will represent France, and how France is seen by the Allied Powers depends entirely on your army’s choice. That is all.”

They could remain as the remnants of a defeated army, reluctantly pushed here, or they could become Finland's saviors and a member of the Allied Forces as a bulwark against the threat of Communism.

Despite my words, the French generals still couldn't hide their suspicious gazes.

But if it's De Gaulle—

“…I understand. I thank you for Germany’s cooperation.”

De Gaulle replied with a very brief nod and offered handshakes to General Karl Eglseer and General Werner Mölders.

As the two men accepted the handshake in a daze, I requested that he and the French Army be guided to the camp.

De Gaulle’s eyes, as he turned his back, seemed to be on fire.

The flame of a will determined to seize the given opportunity.