Chapter 189

April 25th, 1941. Nearly three months had passed since the battle in January.

The Allied Forces, having seized air superiority, had been tormenting the Soviet Army with frequent air raids and shelling.

It wasn't on the level of the rain of shells and bombs they had poured on Italy, but the irregular, surprise bombardments day and night had steadily accumulated damage and fatigue upon the Soviet Army.

But at the same time, the situation of over two months of only shelling and air raids with no offensive had made the Soviet Army accustomed to it.

Because if they didn't force themselves to feel numb and reassured, no person could endure a situation of being unilaterally tormented for three months without being able to do anything.

So when the shelling and air raids began this time as well, the Soviet soldiers, with weary eyes, numbly watched their unlucky comrades get caught in the blasts and hunkered down in their trenches to wait.

But this time, contrary to the Soviet Army's expectation, it did not end with just shelling and air raids.

-

Siedlce, a city in eastern Warsaw

Władysław Sikorski, Inspector General of the Armed Forces of Poland and de facto commander of Army Group Centre, arrived in Siedlce, a city on the Bug River and the very front line.

Many had tried to dissuade him, the Commander-in-Chief and the nation's de facto leader, from standing on the dangerous front line, but he did not listen.

Just as he had defended the Government Building to the end in Warsaw under a hail of bombs, he would do so again this time.

That was his duty, he who had handed over his nation's land and his former comrades to Germany as war criminals and ordered countless Poles to die on the front lines.

As his subordinates watched, Sikorski slowly bent down and grasped a handful of earth.

The soft soil, warmed by the spring sun, tickled his hand.

But the road he had traveled to get here was still littered with the scars of the great battle last January.

Tanks that were once the vanguard of the Allied and Soviet forces.

The steel wreckage, destroyed, burned, and crushed into grotesque scraps of metal.

Evidence of the countless soldiers who had perished on this land inside them.

The soil in his hand looked soft and clean, but he knew well how much blood had been shed to reclaim this land from the Soviet Union.

Sikorski slowly turned his hand over and let the soil in his palm be carried away by the wind.

He started walking again.

The ground beneath his striding feet was hardened by the blood of innumerable Poles.

Blood shed because of him, who had ordered resistance instead of surrendering to the Soviet Union.

Entering the headquarters, Sikorski slowly looked around at those waiting for him and the subordinate officers who had followed him.

Sikorski slowly raised his hand and saluted them with two fingers.

A salute that began with a brave soldier who, after losing three fingers fighting for Poland's independence, saluted with his remaining two.

One finger meant the homeland, the other, honor.

With a collective rustle of collars, all hands of the Polish Army saluted their leader.

Sikorski held the salute, meeting the eyes of each of his subordinates one by one, before quietly lowering his hand and taking a deep breath.

After those long days of swallowing his pride and begging Germany for mercy with the resolve to sacrifice himself, he had finally reached this point.

This was the final opportunity, granted to their homeland at last by all the sacrifice built upon Poland's blood and tears.

"Send a telegram to all units."

As everyone held their breath, looking only at him, Sikorski declared.

"Remember March of 1940. Remember those who willingly met their deaths to give us this chance.

Commence Operation Liberation(Wyzwolenie)! Wiwat Polska!"

-

At the same time, the gruff voice of Colonel General Fedor von Bock echoed through the German Army Group Centre Headquarters.

"Convey to Generals Hoepner, Heinrici, and Manteuffel! Commence the offensive!"

"Yes, sir! Relay the order to all units!"

At the Army Group Commander's order, Chief of Staff Hans Krebs instructed the radio operators, and orders began to be dispatched to the various units.

Roger Michael, a staff officer for Army Group Centre, busily checked the operation plan and moved the flags according to the offensive plan.

Roger instinctively swallowed dryly.

The 600,000 men of Army Group Centre were moving in perfect unison at the hands of those in this headquarters building.

It was a clash of great military forces, totaling eight million on both sides.

How many of them would be sacrificed?

While moving frantically, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at the battle plan for the Mobile Army Group, which was not under their purview.

A plan classified as top secret, revealed to other army groups within the German Army only on the day the operation began.

Roger was astounded as he looked at the route.

That Manstein fellow, he sure has some guts.

'Survive, Clemens.'

-

April 25th, 1941

Pinsk, in the Soviet-occupied territory of eastern Poland

General Georgy Zhukov, Commander-in-Chief of the Soviet Polish Front Army, was glaring at an operation map in Pinsk, where his headquarters was located.

Reports were coming in ceaselessly.

The Allied Forces had begun attacking all across the front, launching a fierce offensive on the entire line that made it difficult to determine the main thrust.

In the north, on the border of East Prussia, Günther von Kluge's German Army and Władysław Anders's Polish Army were in an engagement with Ivan Konev's army.

In the centre, along the Bug River flowing between Siedlce and Brest, Fedor von Bock's German Army and Władysław Sikorski's Polish Army had begun to battle Konstantin Rokossovsky's army.

In the south, on the Lublin and Lviv front, Johannes Blaskowitz's German Army and Kazimierz Sosnkowski's Polish Army clashed with Boris Shaposhnikov's army.

The battle had only just begun, yet the Soviet Army, exhausted by the long period of shelling and air raids and accustomed to the standoff without an offensive, was wavering precariously in the face of the sudden all-out attack.

However, Zhukov simply stared intently at the map with a hardened face, not making any particular response.

The most threatening enemy had not yet moved, making it too soon for Zhukov to react rashly.

The Soviet Army also knew, through the NKVD, of the existence of the newly formed Mobile Army Group under Ewald von Kleist.

The generals commanding its armies were Heinz Guderian, Erwin Rommel, Walter Model, and Hans-Valentin Hube.

Those four had already made a name for themselves with their amazing feats as armored commanders on various fronts.

There was no doubt that this army group would be the core of their offensive, but they had been stationed in Warsaw until just the day before, and now their whereabouts were unknown.

With air superiority completely in the hands of the Allied Forces, there was no way to confirm their location until intelligence from the NKVD came in.

Georgy Zhukov, cupping his chin with his hand, stared at the operation map, lost in thought.

The front was vast. The wide plains of Poland were perfect for their armored units to launch an all-out offensive.

Could it be the north? The forested area between East Prussia and Poland was inconvenient for tanks, but they already had a record of breaking through the Ardennes.

To launch an offensive in the centre, there was the Bug River flowing between the front lines, but according to NKVD intelligence, they had brazenly constructed a large number of pontoon bridges in advance, suitable for tanks to cross.

The Bug River was not that deep, so if they just threw in the pre-made pontoon bridges and did a little work, they would function as bridges right away.

If it were the south, there was an open plain all the way to Lviv.

Normal armored unit commanders would naturally prefer the south.

But were their thoughts really that simple? Were the pontoon bridges they prepared real, or were they a smokescreen to hide an offensive towards Lviv?

Zhukov felt a cold sweat run down his spine.

Kirill Meretskov, who had done his best in Finland following the General Secretary's orders but had been outmatched, was eventually dragged off to the Gulag.

He himself didn't know when he would suffer the same fate, and the General Secretary's order forbidding retreat was a tremendous burden on him.

He stared intently at the operation map again.

Zhukov felt the illusion of seeing their brains, Erich von Manstein, sitting across the table, smiling slyly.

Georgy Zhukov twisted up the corner of his mouth.

What a ridiculous state of affairs.

That he, the Soviet Army's greatest brain, should feel pressured by their Chief of the General Staff.

Zhukov slowly closed his eyes.

And when he opened them again, he had fully regained his unique arrogance.

The German Army had already been ensnared by his tactics twice.

Erich von Manstein had already been defeated by him. If it weren't for that cursed Kulik, victory in the last battle would surely have been his.

Zhukov glanced at the opinion sent by STAVKA's Chief of the General Staff, Vasilevsky, and finally, with conviction, moved the greatest card in his hand.

He was the greatest general in the Soviet Union.

It was impossible for him to be defeated in tactics, and it must not happen.

-

April 25th, 1941

Berlin, Northern Germany, Army General Staff Headquarters

"All hands, attention!"

I'm used to this now.

"To the Minister of Defense, salute!"

All hands of the General Staff, including General Tresckow, saluted me in unison, and I now returned it naturally.

I gave General Tresckow a nod.

He looked well enough when he was on the Western Front with Field Marshal Witzleben, but now that he's back at the General Staff, his eyes look like he's reached enlightenment.

His forehead was already broad, but it looks like his hair has thinned out even more…

As I was feeling pity for General Tresckow, Manstein approached with a truly sly, leering smile.

"We~lco~me, Minister! I had no doubt you would come to witness the moment this Erich von Manstein's masterpiece unfolds!"

"Ah, yes…"

I just came because it's part of my job, you sly Chief of the General Staff.

I felt a strong impulse to say that and embarrass him.

"Now, come this way, Minister! I absolutely had to show you the scene of my masterpiece unfolding."

I followed the fussing Manstein and saw the operation map and the countless flags placed upon it.

In the radio room right next to us, telegrams and radio messages were flooding in, and the staff officers moved flags with every report they made. The sense of presence was amazing.

Manstein called his own operation a masterpiece, but honestly, the first thought I had when I saw this operation plan was this:

'Is this StarCraft or something? Is this even possible?'

The expression of Colonel General Ewald von Kleist when he first received this operation plan was also a sight to behold.

A look that blatantly screamed 'This guy's finally lost it' struck Manstein, but Generals Model and Hube, who were to play the most crucial roles, discussed it for a long time with serious faces and then said it seemed possible.

Honestly, I'm still not sure, but since General Model said it could be done, it wasn't my place to say more, so I requested approval from Prime Minister Heuss.

Mr.

Heuss, however, made me sweat by saying he didn't know much about military affairs and asking for my opinion.

How am I supposed to explain an operation that I myself doubt will work?

In the end, this was my conclusion.

I have no choice but to trust myself, who trusts General Model.

Regardless of whether I had my doubts, Manstein was sweating, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his fists as if he were excited.

Honestly, watching a sly-looking middle-aged man act like that is a bit painful to see…

"You can just smoke."

At my words, all hands of the General Staff let out a sigh of relief and took out cigarettes.

Especially General Tresckow.

Manstein also smiled with satisfaction and put a cigar in his mouth.

I've been working with the Ministry of Health to diligently publicize the harms of tobacco through the Ministry of Propaganda, and now these gentlemen are doing something I didn't even ask them to do.

Manstein, who had seemed emotionally unstable, miraculously calmed down after taking a savory puff of his cigar.

He's a rather cool gentleman when he just shuts his mouth and elegantly smokes his cigar. I don't know why he lives like that.

"Your Excellency, the Chief of the General Staff, a report from General Kleist. The Mobile Army Group has arrived at its operational position."

Manstein blew out a cloud of cigar smoke and burst out laughing.

"Haha, hahaha…"

The German Army had already been beaten by Zhukov twice.

Manstein was glaring at the other side of the table as if Zhukov himself were sitting there.

"That arrogant man's nose must be high in the air…"

Having said that, Manstein moved a flag over the insane operation plan he had devised.

"Hahaha, let's see if you can handle this too. Let the game begin."

No matter how I look at it, we really look like the villains, don't we?

Manstein noticed my expression and smiled as if nothing had happened.

"Haha, please look forward to it, Minister! Please watch everything, how magnificently our army repels the enemy! My masterpiece-"

"Excuse me, Minister?"

But before he could finish his sentence, Claudia entered the command room, and everyone's attention immediately turned to her, causing Manstein to shut his mouth.

"Ah, Vice-Chancellor. It's already time. Well then, Chief of the General Staff, I'll be taking my leave now."

"Whaaaat? No, Minister! The battle that holds the fate of our… ah, no, the homeland is underway, where are you goinggg!"

The soldiers would be so thrilled to have a high-ranking official watching them.

I chuckled at the bewildered Manstein.

"I believe in the Chief of the General Staff and the German Army. And have you forgotten? The Ministry of Propaganda is also involved in this operation."

Thanks to that, I'm stuck working late with my beloved wife on her birthday.

I feel so sorry for her, but…

I met Claudia's eyes and smiled.

I have to show them that war isn't just fought with guns.