Chapter 28:

June 25, 1938

Northern Germany, Berlin, a bar in the city.

I was meeting a welcome face for the first time in a while.

"Have you been well, Captain?"

"Same as always. And how have you been, Colonel?"

At my words, Colonel Wolfram von Richthofen tilted his drinking glass and grinned.

"Same here! Haha! How's life at the War Academy?"

"Yes, well, compared to my time in Spain, it's a life in paradise. I have you to thank for that, Colonel."

"Is that so? I'm starting to miss that place."

He doesn't miss it because he can't drop incendiary bombs, right…?

No, this is Richthofen. Maybe he does.

"Is that right? I thought you returned because the war situation was tipping."

After the Battle of Brunete in the Spanish Civil War, the tide of war turned sharply once the Nationalist faction seized the entire Northern Theater, and the Republican faction has been consistently pushed back…

But contrary to my thoughts, Richthofen downed his drink and answered with a grin.

"Ah, about that. To be honest, I was just fired."

"Pardon?"

No, Richthofen? But he's a subordinate Göring cherishes?

"I didn't get along with the guy who replaced Lieutenant General Thoma in the Army dispatch unit. Lieutenant General Volkmann."

Ah, Lieutenant General Thoma.

He was the Army commander of the Condor Legion.

His long, horse-like face was quite impressive.

Though besides that, his presence was so faint I can't remember anything else.

When Major General Model was the Chief of Staff, it was almost as ifhewas the Army commander…

"Lieutenant General Thoma was great because he respected the Air Force's autonomy, but that Volkmann fellow treated the Air Force like one of his subordinate units.

We had a huge fight and I was replaced. Haha!"

"I see."

Before the Battle of Brunete, the Condor Legion was clearly run with the Luftwaffe at its center, but it seems their position changed after a great victory in ground warfare too.

Colonel Richthofen tilted his glass again and asked with a grin.

"So, Captain.

You remember why I so actively recommended you, right?"

"Ah, of course, Colonel. I've already had several discussions on that topic with my batchmates. At the very least, those close to me won't think of the Air Force as just aerial artillery on call."

"That's welcome news."

Even without his request, this was the German Air Force's greatest limit and problem, so I was quite enthusiastic about it myself.

While mass-producing strategic bombers to create a rain of bombs like America might be difficult for Germany's industrial capacity, the value of the air force in modern warfare for just taking out the enemies in front of you is simply endless.

"Major General Walther Model also has advanced thinking on that matter. Likely because he worked in tandem with the Luftwaffe in Spain."

"Ah, that man is trustworthy.

Hah, to be honest, I was more disappointed about him leaving than Lieutenant General Thoma. Well… was it nice not having to listen to his jokes?"

"…Ha. Ha. Ha."

General Model's gags, really, hmm.

We're finding common ground here.

I shared a light toast with him and savored the drink.

"Oh, right. Captain. The Hs 123 production line will be kept open as you suggested, not scrapped."

"Is that so?"

The Hs 123 was a biplane, being the earliest model among Germany's dive bombers, so it was no match for the Stuka in actual dive bombing.

However, after using it in the Spanish Civil War, it turned out to be a strange aircraft, proving very useful for ground troop support precisely because it was a slow biplane with good stability.

"That's right. It's a bit odd that its design purpose was dive bombing, yet it's actually used for close air support, but its reliability is good and its price-performance ratio is certainly not bad."

At Richthofen's words, I let out a small laugh and added.

"Whether it's an old model or not, having a visible support aircraft flying around is a good way to show that the Air Force is cooperating with the Army."

"Ah, damn it. I really should have had you transfer branches. You really get the Air Force style."

"Haha, thank you."

In the original history, the production line was shut down early, making it a regrettable aircraft that couldn't be produced further even after being re-evaluated, so anything helps.

Looking at the military gains of the Sturmgeschütz III or the lessons from the German-Soviet War, a reliable, low-cost, mass-produced piece of equipment always proves its worth in some way.

The tanks crafted with Germany's unique craftsmanship—the Tiger or the Panther—may have shown an incredible exchange ratio and brilliant military gains in battle, but didn't their overambitious design lead to disastrous reliability and productivity, ultimately failing to have a major impact on the tide of war?

Even if I couldn't meet him in person often like this, I was staying in touch with Richthofen.

He might be just one colonel, but connections with a real power of the Air Force are important.

He is a figure followed by Adolf Galland and Werner Mölders, the spiritual pillars of Germany's ace pilots, so in a sense, his practical influence on the Air Force is greater than Göring's.

Most of the high-ranking officers in the new military branch, the Luftwaffe, are men who transferred from the Army, with the exception of heroes from the last great war like Göring or Milch.

The young, skilled members of the German Air Force are very dissatisfied with the drug-addled pig leader, once a hero, who now sits in a high position mired in greed and vanity, or the generals from the Army who treat the Air Force as a subordinate organization.

It's only natural that they feel closer to Richthofen, who, despite his lower rank, discusses practical matters with them, listens to their grievances since their time in Spain, and is striving for the development of the Luftwaffe.

As long as I'm making plans for a German civil war, I desperately wanted to avoid a nightmare scenario where the entire Luftwaffe sides with the Nazis and showers incendiary bombs on the heads of Germans.

"By the way, Colonel."

"Hm?"

"What are your thoughts on the plan to invade Czechoslovakia?"

In response to my question, Richthofen swirled his glass, took a sip, and answered.

"To be honest, it's a complete mess. Makes you wonder what the General Staff is even doing.

…I'm only saying this to you, but the OKW (High Command of the Armed Forces) are idiots. Keitel? Hah! How can a guy known for being incompetent even in the Army command all three branches when he knows nothing about the Air Force and Navy?"

Is this guy drunk? As a mere captain, I'm not supposed to know the detailed operational plans for the invasion of Czechoslovakia yet.

What I asked about was, of course, his opinion on the escalating Sudetenland Crisis…

In any case, the OKW is just a figurehead, so the actual drafting of the plan must have been led by Chief of the General Staff Franz Halder.

It's true that before Manstein's Sickle Cut Operation that defeated France in six weeks, the operational plans led by Chief of Staff Halder could hardly be called groundbreaking or brilliant, even as an empty compliment.

If not for the Munich Agreement, wouldn't Germany have plunged headfirst into the fortress line after its main attack on Czechoslovakia was precisely predicted, nearly ruining World War II from the very start?

The shake-up in the General Staff Headquarters due to the Blomberg–Fritsch Affair was clearly revealing its problems.

Well, it's not as bad as Stalin's Great Purge, I suppose.

"Well, since I'm just a mere captain, I still…"

"The Führer is a powerful leader who united a divided Germany, but I fear the sycophantic retainers around him are blinding him."

I was about to speak but shut my mouth at Richthofen's words.

Richthofen tilted his glass, then looked at me and chuckled.

"Well, that's just talk. You and I are both in a position where we just do as we're told, aren't we? A soldier doesn't need to think deeply about politics."

"…That's true."

The thought of trying to persuade Wolfram von Richthofen hadn't been entirely absent…

But judging by his sentiments about Hitler, it seemed difficult.

This is quite a shame.

From what I've seen, he was a definite patriot, and while he held Hitler in high regard as a strong leader, he never showed any signs of agreeing with the Nazi Party's insane ideology…

I can only hope he isn't crazy enough to pour incendiary bombs on the German people.

I stared at Richthofen's reddened face and opened my mouth.

"Um, Colonel.

Do you drink often?"

"Well, a little."

The colonel's face was flushed as he answered.

He doesn't seem to hold his liquor well at all. Wasn't the reason he bowed out at the end of the war due to a brain tumor?

I don't know the exact cause, but being an alcohol lover can't possibly be good for a brain tumor…

"Uhm, you should probably cut back on the drinking a bit…"

"Hahaha! To think I'd hear that from you, someone from a different branch."

Richthofen, finding something immensely funny, chuckled and replied.

"Well, alright. My subordinates have been saying the same thing, so I'll try to cut back a little."

It was a case of same bed, different dreams, but we enjoyed our time together well enough and stood up.

But Richthofen, who had just promised to cut back on drinking, immediately added another remark.

"How about our next drink in Prague?"

"…Ha.

Ha…"

When we were together in Spain, I didn't realize it since we were so busy with operations…

An alcohol lover who's a lightweight, and an incendiary bombing maniac. What a terrible combination.

---

July 9, 1938

Northern Germany, Berlin I was welcoming guests at a mansion owned by my father, Hjalmar Schacht.

Although he had been fired from his position as Minister of Economy, my father was still the President of the National Bank and had more than enough money.

Having a rich father who could afford a house for receiving guests in addition to the one he lived in in downtown Berlin was convenient in many ways.

"The negotiations between Lord von Kleist-Schmenzin and the British side went as you predicted, Captain. Only Member of Parliament Churchill showed some interest. Lord Vansittart, the Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs, also came, but he didn't show much interest."

"That's to be expected.

It's hard to expect them to see us as equal negotiating partners."

At my words, Director Erich Kordt nodded.

Winston Churchill. Hearing the name of a figure so symbolic of Britain in World War II stirs up complicated feelings.

I'm grateful that he, who had early on pegged Hitler as a person not worth associating with, is paying attention to us…

But he's not the prime minister yet, so he has no real power, and if we were to take power later, he's like a bomb that could go off at any moment, so I didn't want to get too involved with him.

I feel bad for the man who will go down in British history as an indomitable great man, but if possible, I wish he'd remain a has-been politician for the rest of his life…

"Still, as you wished, Captain, my brother made sure to avoid discussing territorial sovereignty."

"That's a relief.

It was just my opinion, but thank you for taking such care, Director.

"Not at all. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs agrees with your perspective, Captain."

Having said that, Director Kordt added with a smile.

"To tell you the truth, having the son of Former Minister Schacht express such an opinion in the military actually lessens our burden. Vice Minister Weizsäcker also holds you in high regard, Captain, so we plan to continue our cooperation."

"Thank you. That's reassuring."

As expected of working-level officials from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, having people with a relatively realistic perspective on our side within the resistance force is a great source of strength.

It's also largely because Claudia gave them a good impression of me beforehand. I'm thankful for that.

As the two of us were enjoying a pleasant chat over coffee, the main guests we had been waiting for arrived.

"It's been a while, Captain."

"It has been a while, Lieutenant Colonel."

Lieutenant Colonel Tresckow was still puffing away on a cigarette, and just before entering the house, he threw the butt on the ground, crushed it with his foot, and came in.

This man is quite the chain smoker…

"Please come in, Lieutenant Colonel."

I turned my gaze to the two men who followed him inside.

An incredibly handsome man who looked to be in his thirties… and a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a powerful presence.

A strange combination.

"Welcome. I am Captain Dietrich Schacht."

"A pleasure to meet you, Captain. I am Count Hans-Jürgen von Blumenthal. Well, I'm also an army first lieutenant."

The handsome man, Count Blumenthal, introduced himself with an amiable smile.

"Count Blumenthal. It is an honor to meet you."

Count Blumenthal was probably… the one who planned to raid Hitler's chancellery during the original Case Green, I believe.

Then the identity of the middle-aged man was set.

"I am Lieutenant Colonel Hans Paul Oster. A pleasure, Captain."

Lieutenant Colonel Hans Oster.

The ringleader of the Oster Conspiracy to assassinate Hitler during the Munich Agreement, and a man who, unyielding to any of Hitler's successes, opposed the Nazis more fervently than anyone else.

Such a man was looking at me with an intense gaze and extending his hand.

"…It is truly an honor to meet you, Lieutenant Colonel Oster."

As I shook his hand, he gripped it firmly, then said with a faint smile.

"It's a bit much to ask at our first meeting, Captain. But we're short on time, so I'll ask the most important thing first."

"…Please, go ahead, Lieutenant Colonel."

Hearing my reply, Lieutenant Colonel Oster looked me straight in the eye.

I instantly understood the evaluation the survivors of the resistance force gave him after the end of World War II.

A gaze full of conviction and belief, an indomitable gaze, was piercing through me.

"To catch the devil ruling this Germany, how much are you resolved to throw away?"

Even though it was a situation where I shouldn't, a smile threatened to spread across my lips.

"…Everything."

This is the very man I've been looking for.