Chapter 60:

November 14, 1939

Central Germany, 9th Military District, Kassel, Frankfurt – Dietrich Schacht's Mansion For the first time in a while, I came home after work, only to find myself in the middle of an argument.

"Claudia, are you really going to be like this?"

"Yes, I am.

Dietrich, do you really have to be this way?"

Ah, damn it. A marital argument before we're even married!

I felt a wave of fatigue and wiped my face with my hand.

"I mean, what's so wrong with wanting to hire a chef and someone to do the housework?"

I used to personally prepare breakfast and clean, enjoying the feeling of being newlyweds, but not. But humanly speaking, after becoming the Vice Minister of the Chancellery, I've become too busy and tired.

"Just a short while ago, we used your daily routine for propaganda, portraying you as a 'frugal high-ranking official of the New Government, unlike the Nazis'! Do you want to hear people say you're pretending to be frugal in public while living luxuriously behind the scenes?"

"That wasn't even my idea…"

Whether I felt it was unfair or not, Claudia crossed her arms and shook her head.

"What can't be done, can't be done. As a Social Democrat who pursues the reform of capitalist corruption and public welfare, I cannot tolerate my fiancée emulating a well-fed aristocrat from the British Conservative Party."

"Ugh…"

Honestly, I was incredibly envious of Winston Churchill, his affluent life, and his delicious meals.

Damn it, the body is honest! What's so wrong with spending a little of the money I have!

"Ahem, honestly, this mansion isn't cheap either, right? We already live in a nice house, do we really have to live so arduously?"

"Now you're playing dirty…"

Even as Claudia said that, she subtly averted her gaze. The house she lived in in Berlin was, not even by a long shot, a good place for a person to live.

Once you get to know comfort, inconvenience is all that stands out. It's not just my body that's honest!

"This isn't about us enjoying some great luxury. Honestly, I'm busy as hell, so pouring time and energy into housework is extremely inefficient."

"That's…"

Claudia seemed to be persuaded by my words, but she soon shook her head.

"No, still, what's not okay is not okay! Using the excuse of being tired to hire an expensive head chef, if that's not a luxury, what is?"

"If I could eat the delicious meals my dear fiancée makes, I wouldn't spend money on such things."

She is certainly a respectable and lovely fiancée, but I have no desire to be poisoned by her hand.

Ah, honestly, I'm sick of the simple dishes I know how to make! She seems to have a pretty easygoing palate and eats whatever is served, but I remember the richness of modern epicureanism, so it's really hard for me.

"Ugh, I'll help with the cleaning, at least."

"I'm terribly sorry, miss. Just staying still is how you can help."

Even her innate talent for eloquence as a journalist, and for writing speeches and articles, paled in comparison to her talent for making a mess of things.

"…"

Claudia closed her mouth and wore a sulky expression, but no matter how blinded by love I was, I didn't have the slightest thought of entrusting her with housework.

I'm just grateful she can make a proper cup of coffee.

"Cheapskate."

"Isn't that expression usually for people who hate spending money?"

Claudia let out a deep sigh at my playful words and then opened her mouth.

"Hmph, fine. I feel sorry for complaining when it's not even me doing the work. But not now, let's hire someone when we move to Berlin."

"Berlin…"

Right.

It's only been a little over two months since I got a house in Frankfurt and started living here, but I'd already grown accustomed to living here with her.

Once the civil war is over, we'll be going back to Berlin.

But honestly, I don't know if the Berlin I remembered will still be there.

"Are you worried?"

"I'm scared of how much of the Berlin we remember will be left."

No matter how much public opinion is on our side, I don't expect a bloodless entry into Berlin.

There were not a few who devoted their loyalty to the Nazis right up to the moment World War II drove Germany to ruin.

In the original history, Hitler and the Nazis put up a truly desperate resistance, and when defeat was certain, Hitler didn't hesitate to order Germany's key facilities to be burned.

It's one thing to console myself by thinking we'd be trampled by the Soviet Army anyway if World War II broke out, but what I've done is ultimately to accept Germany shedding blood to stop the Nazis and Hitler.

Claudia looked at me quietly and asked.

"So, do you regret what you've done?"

"No."

I may feel guilt for the people who will be sacrificed as a result of what I've started, but I would never regret it.

If I had fled Germany just to save myself, or cooperated with the Nazis' crazy acts in the name of saving Germany from ruin, that's when I would have been steeped in guilt and regret.

Claudia reached out, took my hand, and interlaced her fingers with mine.

As the warmth of her soft hand was transmitted, my heart seemed to ease, if only a little.

"Ribbentrop was a Nazi henchman, but at the same time, he hadn't done anything to me that deserved death."

"Ah…"

Although the situation was such that there was no one else who could do it, I really didn't want her to get blood on her hands.

This would be a feeling of being sorry that I'd carry for the rest of my life.

"But you don't have to feel sorry for me. I did it because I genuinely felt it was necessary. It wasn't because you told me to, I simply believed that only by my killing him could we drive them out."

"Do you happen to use mind reading?"

Claudia smiled slightly at my words, but her face soon turned a little bitter.

"I don't regret that act, but his son curses and hates me, calling me the prostitute of the rebel army who killed his innocent father."

Joachim von Ribbentrop's son, Rudolf von Ribbentrop, is just a teenage boy.

But he has been thoroughly packaged as a tragic patriot who lost his father to a wicked rebel army assassin and joined the Wehrmacht, and is being used as propaganda against us.

Even if it's not just him, there are definitely people who have fallen during engagements due to the coup d'état we started, and their colleagues and families will surely hate us.

"That's how everything is in the end. We may believe we're doing the right thing, but not everyone can think that way, and our thoughts aren't perfect either."

"I suppose so."

No matter how good the intention, the moment I start thinking that I alone am right and my actions are perfect, I'm no different from Hitler.

"We have to do our best, and we must not turn away from the problems that still arise. Still, Claudia."

Tomorrow is finally the departure ceremony.

It's time to finish everything I started since first arriving in Germany from Spain.

"Yes?"

I looked into her deep blue eyes watching me, and said with a smile.

"Thank you for helping me get this far."

Even if it was to prevent the worst future I know, I couldn't say I am without sin.

But still, I can't express what a great comfort it was to have someone who understood me while walking this path.

She smiled slightly at my words, came closer, and said.

"We're accomplices, you know."

Our kiss was sweet, and yet bitter.

-

November 14, 1939

Northern Germany, near Potsdam, a city southwest of Berlin – Luftwaffe Airfield

"All units, attention!"

At Major General Wolfram von Richthofen's verbal command, all Luftwaffe officers and soldiers snapped to attention.

"To His Excellency, the Field Marshal, salute!"

"Heil Hitler!"

Receiving a salute in unison from the Luftwaffe's officers and soldiers, the Supreme Commander of the Air Force and Field Marshal, Hermann Göring, smiled with satisfaction.

"Ah, my dear officers and soldiers of the Luftwaffe. I express my gratitude for your toil."

The expressions on the faces of the Luftwaffe officers and soldiers looking up at him were not very good, but Göring paid it no mind.

"Soon, the decisive battle against the band of traitors who dared to rebel against the rightful leader of the German people and nation will take place!"

Hearing his words, Richthofen let out a slight sigh. Did his mentor, whom he had always respected, know the current mood within the Luftwaffe, no, the entire Wehrmacht?

"As the glorious Air Force Field Marshal of the Empire, I do not doubt that you, the officers and soldiers of the Luftwaffe who are loyal to the Führer and the German nation, will stand at the vanguard and resolutely annihilate the enemy!"

Richthofen glanced back and met the eyes of Adolf Galland, who was staring intently at him.

He gave him a stiff smile before turning his gaze back to Göring.

"Not only you, gentlemen, but also the patriots who are unfailingly loyal to the Führer and the nation will crush the enemy as the Waffen-SS, so our victory is at hand! On the day we win and drive out those traitors, you all will be proudly recorded in German history as heroes who will shine for eternity!"

When the Luftwaffe officers and soldiers showed little reaction to his rather plausible speech, Göring thumped his chubby chest with his fist and made a boast.

"What's with you all, do you think we're going to lose? Rest assured, gentlemen! If even one of those lawless traitors sets foot in Berlin, you can call me Meier (Meier - the most common surname in Germany)!"

Only then did the Luftwaffe officers and soldiers give a reaction that was hard to distinguish as cheers or boos, and Göring came down from the podium and patted the shoulder of his favored subordinate, Richthofen.

"The Führer has great expectations for the Luftwaffe. I trust you."

Richthofen hesitated for a moment, but instead of reporting his concern about potential insubordination regarding a sortie order, he gave him an awkward smile.

"Thank you, Your Excellency, the Field Marshal."

After Göring left, satisfied, Adolf Galland put a cigar in his mouth, lit it, and said a word.

"Next time we meet, it will be His Excellency, Hermann Meier, I suppose."

-

November 14, 1939

Northern Germany, Potsdam, a city southwest of Berlin – Army Group South Headquarters

"Your Excellency, the Commander. I am sorry, but I cannot accept the role of Chief of Staff for Army Group South."

Brauchitsch had spoken to him a few times on the phone, but at the words of Walther Model, who had become very gaunt since he'd last seen him, he touched his forehead.

"Look here, Model. Weren't you the one who always wanted to take on such an important role?"

Despite Brauchitsch's question, Model kept his mouth firmly shut.

"Model, do you know how hard I worked to prevent your arrest? Do you know how difficult it was to get permission from the Führer, who doubts your loyalty, to make you the Chief of Staff?"

"For that, I am grateful, Your Excellency, the Commander. But they are not a simple rebel army. They are the German people."

Until they blocked the enemy armored units that were first rushing toward Berlin, a significant number of Wehrmacht soldiers thought that fighting against them to uphold their oath of loyalty was a battle to protect the fatherland.

But after a long stand-off and media war, the Wehrmacht, which had been listening to the New Government radio broadcast either secretly or through loudspeakers set up by the enemy during the confrontation, had long since lost that conviction.

"Model, it is natural for you to have doubts. But are we not soldiers who have sworn an oath of loyalty to the Führer and the regime? Help me out. This is the last opportunity, and there are too few people I can trust."

Walther Model squeezed his eyes shut.

While he himself believed it was right for a soldier to keep a distance from politics, he had shared the same will as Brauchitsch, his senior and mentor.

He had been the one who didn't interfere in the affairs of his respected mentor when Brauchitsch began to openly flatter the Nazi regime, and he had been the one who, when the rebellion broke out, reminded a hesitating Brauchitsch of the oath of loyalty and urged him to block them.

"How about you just surrender, senior."

At Model's words, which sounded close to giving up, Brauchitsch's face crumpled.

"I have already rejected their demand to join the coup d'état, and I have given the order for suppression! If I surrender now, my military life is over!"

The question of whether he would point a gun at the people to protect his military life lingered only in Model's throat and could not come out.

"I didn't want to go this far, but weren't you the one who instigated me, when I was hesitating between the Führer and the New Government, to give the order to block them!"

Even if he said he didn't know then that they would become a government that had truly won the public sentiment of the German people, not just a simple rebel army, or that the Nazi regime had been committing such atrocities against the people, would that be an excuse?

Walther Model was seized by a feeling of despair.

What had he been loyal to, and what had he fought for?

"The timing of their offensive has already been exposed! I know you! A man like you can surely see through their offensive plan and devise an operation to crush it! How much I've cherished you. Model, please, just save me this once."

Walther Model gritted his teeth.

As a soldier, one does not interfere in politics, obeys the regime, and keeps the oath of loyalty.

A soldier's belief, above all else, there was no way it could be wrong.

So why had it come to this?

The clock, which had been moving ceaselessly amidst their individual worries, finally struck twelve.

November 15, 1939, the day the New Government was to hold its grand departure ceremony, had arrived.