Chapter 86:

February 9, 1940

A pub in the city center of Berlin, Northern Germany

“Field Marshal Göring, no, Hermann Göring. Please help him avoid the death penalty.”

Belying his reddened, drunken face, Richthofen spoke with considerable caution.

Hermann Göring.

He was the Nazi’s second-in-command and played a core role in the early formation of the party. If you only look at his early feats before he became addicted to drugs, he was the Nazi’s Idol, playing a far greater role than Goebbels.

On top of that, as the head of the Air Force and a man with considerable power in the administration of the Nazi Regime, he naturally knew about and was involved in most of the Nazi’s atrocities.

Unlike Goebbels, who surprisingly had little power despite his public recognition and only Hitler's favor, in the original history, Göring was the host of the Wannsee Conference, which laid out the extermination plan for the Jewish people.

Fortunately, the Holocaust hasn't happened yet, but the problem is…

Even if I could overlook everything else, the order to burn down Frankfurt, the new government’s temporary capital, was something I could never cover for.

It was a good thing General Richthofen refused that order and surrendered with the Air Force.

Otherwise, Frankfurt could have ended up like Guernica, which was burned to ruins during the Spanish Civil War.

“That was his fault, of course, but wasn’t he just following Hitler’s orders! At this rate, he will surely be sentenced to death.”

The fact that they had attacked their own people and committed atrocities in their bid to start a war had been completely exposed, and the trials for the Nazi Regime, which had made Germans shed each other's blood in Berlin until the very end, were proceeding as sternly as the war crime trials of the original history.

In a way, they were even harsher.

Just as Free France had done to the officials of Vichy France after retaking the home country, it was a political necessity; thoroughly repudiating them was what established the legitimacy of the Fourth Empire.

Besides, even if our government didn't actively push for it, the German legal community was burning with an excessive amount of motivation.

Everyone in the legal community, epitomized by Roland Freisler, was eager to make an example of those who had collaborated with the Nazis, who had lived in luxury while ignoring the law and persecuting the Nazis' political enemies, and to punish the high-ranking Nazi officials.

During the Nazi Regime's rule, the German legal community itself had degenerated to the level of the Nazi Party’s People's Court, so they must feel a strong sense of crisis, needing to evade responsibility and restore their authority.

This was probably the reason why not a few people who were acquitted in the war crime trials of the original history ended up serving sentences in the West German trials.

“I did refuse his order and defect.

But that was only to protect my and my subordinates’ careers, and for the sake of Germany.”

As Richthofen spoke, his face was deeply shadowed with guilt.

As someone with a soldier's mindset of obeying the nation and not thinking too deeply, he was probably less constrained by such political interests and more purely tormented by the fact that his mentor was facing execution.

“Although I turned my back on him, I never once wished for him to die.”

This is truly a dilemma.

“…General Richthofen, Hermann Göring ending up in this situation is not your responsibility.

He is getting what he deserves.”

“Schacht, don’t say that.

Can’t you help me just this once? I’m not asking for much. As long as it’s not the death penalty, I don’t care if it’s life imprisonment or whatever.

He’s already lost his former wisdom anyway. Even if he lives, he won't be much of a threat to the current government.”

Even if I said that, it didn’t seem to alleviate his guilt, as he pleaded earnestly, belying his usual hearty personality.

I could easily imagine the emotions he was feeling.

If my mentors, Model or Tresckow, or Richthofen himself were in the same situation, I would probably be feeling the same way.

But that didn’t mean I could help him.

“I’m sorry, General. That is not something I can help you with.”

“You may be the Vice Minister in name, but it’s an open secret that you’re one of the real powers in the German government right now. If you step in, I think he could at least avoid the death penalty.

It’s fine if it doesn't work out. Can’t you at least make an attempt?”

After it became known that Himmler was in Italy, the fear of Nazi remnants within Germany has grown even stronger.

Trying to save Göring in this situation would mean I’d have to bear a significant political risk.

Honestly, I didn’t know if it would work or not.

In fact, I was more afraid of the possibility that Göring's sentence might be reduced if I tried.

This wasn't Nazi Germany, which had manipulated the legal community as it pleased, and I had no intention of building a dictatorial system that was a democracy in name only.

If the democracy we achieved through so much hardship ended up in a form like that of modern Russia, wouldn't the result be too miserable?

“General, Göring is the highest-ranking living Nazi official. To reduce his sentence, we would have to reduce the sentences of everyone below him as well.”

General Richthofen didn’t hide his look of disappointment at my answer, but what couldn't be done, couldn't be done.

“Even if it were possible, our government is trying to create a democratic nation.

If a politician starts pressuring the legal community before we’ve even begun, I would be destroying democracy with my own hands.”

To be honest, it’s not that there aren't people among the Nazis currently on trial whom I'd like to pardon through a plea bargain.

Right now, I’d want to give a position to architect Albert Speer, who has a talent for munitions management, or generals like Paul Hausser, who could help incorporate the SS into the National Defense Force, and Kurt Student, who has public trust and is competent.

But as long as we claim to be a democratic nation, I cannot, just because I as an individual know something, act in a way that favors and appoints only certain individuals.

Furthermore, the idea that an atrocious criminal who deserves to die can be saved by a person in power just through connections is something that should never happen in a proper democratic nation.

“Even if you say that, I honestly don't get it.

The democracy I remember was a very shoddy and useless system. I guess anything is better than those bastards who kill their own people to start a war, but I can’t quite be convinced by your reasons alone.

Is your ideal for the nation more important than your connection with me?”

Putting it like that makes this really difficult. What should I say?

“…If I don't help you here, do I become a bad person to you, General?”

Richthofen was about to raise his drinking glass, but seeing it was empty, he put it down dejectedly and spoke again.

“When the election comes, I’ll even order the entire Air Force to vote for your side. I’m the real power in the Air Force, you know! …Can’t you do something?”

Telling me to openly rig an election, what is this now? But for him, who doesn’t know much about democracy, this must be his own form of goodwill.

Seeing the military’s perception of democracy, the road ahead truly looks daunting.

“That’s a rigged election… I’m sorry, General.

Just as you turned your back on your mentor for the sake of your subordinates in the Air Force, I have a responsibility to uphold, even if it means becoming a bad person to you.”

Richthofen let out a sigh.

“You’re just so good with words, after I pushed for you so much. You bad guy…”

“…If you hit me again, I’ll gladly take it.”

Richthofen let out a hollow laugh at my response and ordered another drink from the waiter. He then sat still for a while with a half-resigned face, before speaking as if tossing the words out.

“I’m sorry, I displayed some unseemly behavior. It was a cowardly request.”

“Not at all, General. If I were in your shoes, and General Model or you, General Richthofen, were in the same situation, I would have struggled with it too.”

“Hearing you say that makes me feel a little better.”

Richthofen took a sip from the new glass the waiter brought and spoke again.

“I never knew much about politics. Never wanted to, either.”

After saying that, he fell into thought for a moment, swirling his glass, before speaking again.

“You’re a bad guy, but I know that if someone’s going to be a politician, it should be a friend like you.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Richthofen took a gulp from the new glass and grimaced.

“It’s an insult, you damned friend.

Don’t even dream of quitting politics and coming back to the military. You’re not the type of person to be a soldier.”

“…Is that, so.”

Richthofen made an incredulous expression at my reaction.

“What, so you were actually thinking of returning to the military? Think about it logically, if a high government official suddenly returns to the military as a mere Lieutenant Colonel, everyone will be at a loss as to how to treat you, won't they?”

“That’s probably true.”

Someone like General Model would probably think it's fine and treat me as usual, but Manstein, for instance, or my military batchmates…

“My goodness, you acted like a politician, even brushing off the earnest request of the person who pushed for you with all his heart, didn't you? If you irresponsibly quit after all that, you’ll get beaten to death by me on the spot.”

“Heh…”

Richthofen clinked his glass against mine and said with a bitter smile.

“I don’t really know what this fancy democracy you speak of is.

I don’t know the duties a politician must uphold, either. I’m just a soldier.

So work your ass off and show me that you’re not just a smooth-talking liar. If you can’t, I think I’ll resent you for it later.”

It feels like my retreat route has disappeared. Or maybe, I was just engaging in escapism, believing I had a retreat route that was never there to begin with.

I only just realized that.

“I will keep it in mind.”

I’ve agonized over it enough. After ousting the Nazis, what’s the point of thinking about running away just because it’s hard?

No matter how difficult it gets, if I can’t show that the result of all we’ve done is far better than something like Nazi Germany, it’s all meaningless.

At least for as long as I am responsible, I have no choice but to do my best, whether it's the purge of the Nazis, the war, or anything else.

-

February 16, 1940

Northern Poland, Kuyavian-Pomeranian (West Prussia), German-occupied territory of Bydgoszcz Lieutenant General Erwin Rommel had set up camp on the west bank of the Vistula River and was in a stand-off with the Polish Army.

As the roar of cannon fire shook the ground from behind, Rommel raised his telescope and saw artillery shells fall upon the enemy lines, with smoke soaring into the sky.

The German military had brilliantly succeeded in cutting off the enemy's main force from its rear guard unit in the initial offensive, and now they were continuously striking the confronting enemy unit with artillery and the air force.

The sky had long since become the German military's, and the Polish army had lost a considerable amount of its already scarce artillery while retreating disorderly during the initial surprise attack.

Thanks to that, the Polish army was being unilaterally pummeled by the German military, unable to even manage a proper counter-battery fire.

“At this point, it’s just cruel.”

Rommel was astonished.

This was less a proper war and more a one-sided forcing of losses.

From the Polish army’s perspective, with their main force completely encircled, they would want to somehow reorganize their rear guard unit and rescue them, but the losses forced upon them by the rotating artillery and air force made even maintaining the status quo difficult, let alone reorganization.

The German military had not yet launched a full-scale offensive on the major strongpoints. So, the only occupied strongpoint was Bydgoszcz, which was close to the German border and which Rommel had captured in a surprise attack at the beginning.

But because of that, the German military was leisurely accumulating damage on the Polish army with very few losses, getting their battle lines in order, and preparing for the next offensive.

“That flatterer is certainly a capable one.”

Erich von Manstein is treated as a petty person who is endlessly servile to those in power and badmouths them behind their backs. No wonder the army personnel who dislike him call him by the derogatory term ‘Flatterer’.

Nevertheless, the operation plan that minimized losses to this extent, seized the tide of war in a short period, and was surely bleeding the enemy dry came from his brains.

Manstein was from the General Staff, which Rommel disliked, and had a particularly annoying personality, but even Rommel had to acknowledge his ability.

“General. The Vice Minister of the Chancellery will be arriving soon.”

Rommel's reverie, as he watched the war situation through his telescope, was broken by one of his staff officers, Major Claus von Stauffenberg.

“Ah, right.”

-

“Thank you for your hard work, General.”

“Welcome, Vice Minister.”

Rommel returned the salute as the Vice Minister in his military uniform saluted him.

As someone who had remained on the Nazi side almost until the very end, his perception of Vice Minister of the Chancellery Dietrich Schacht had been little more than that of the son of the competent businessman Hjalmar Schacht and an expert in media war.

But recently, a considerable number of officers, including himself, had come to have a reasonably good evaluation of this young government official.

“Are there any particular issues?”

“None today.”

Rommel replied with a grin. For him, who remembered the privation of the last great war, he had no particular complaints about the current situation where supplies and operations were running smoothly without a hitch.

The fact that they could ceaselessly bombard the enemy and that air raids continued was proof that munitions and supplies were flowing smoothly.

“That’s a relief.

As you mentioned, General, the issue of the Panzer IV's armor being weaker than expected is currently undergoing improvement work.”

Dietrich Schacht would come to the battlefield almost once every week, visiting each division to check for issues and report on improvements and progress.

I heard the person who recommended him during his army days was Model. Maybe he learned to diligently tour the front lines from him.

“That’s good news to hear. I wish you’d hurry it up a little more, though…”

“It will take some time as we are running competitive tests between the existing armor type and a new type of sloped armor, but I will pass it on to Krupp.

Um, if you have any other opinions…”

Rommel looked around, and Stauffenberg raised his hand.

“Vice Minister, is there still no attack order for the besieged Danzig or Posen?”

“That matter has been entrusted to the Army High Command, so I don't know either.

I haven't heard anything yet.”

As the Vice Minister smiled awkwardly, Rommel and the officers also smiled faintly.

It was a scene unimaginable when some green young punk first said he'd visit the front lines just because he was a high-ranking official.

The reason the German military could leisurely fight and force losses on the enemy, despite having only besieged the major strongpoints without securing them, was largely due to this.

Unlike the Nazis, who desperately tried to increase their influence over the military, the Fourth Empire rarely bossed the military around.

“To tell you the government's policy rather than the offensive plan, securing Danzig and Posen is something that must naturally be done.

However, we are hoping to obtain them through surrender negotiations with Poland, rather than suffering sacrifices by fighting urban warfare in cities where many Germans also reside.”

I wondered why the artillery and air raids were so persistently focused only on Poland’s rear guard units, and that seems to be the reason.

Stauffenberg and the other young officers were antsy to secure West Prussia and Posen quickly, but the Vice Minister's explanation was reasonably rational, so everyone seemed to let it go.

“Negotiations are good, but personally, I'd very much like to have the glory of a triumphant entry into Danzig.”

But Rommel, having first met his beloved wife Lucie in Danzig, was greedy for it, both for the glory of Germany and as his personal city of memories.

“Um, I will convey that part.”

Usually, when a politician says they will ‘convey’ something, it’s just lip service, but now, enough trust had been built that what the Vice Minister says he will convey is at least actually conveyed.

Rommel smiled with satisfaction.

“Thank you, as always, Vice Minister.”

“Not at all, General.

I am always grateful to those who are going through hardships on the front lines. I’ll see you next time.”

Unlike Hitler, Dietrich Schacht did not demand any time-wasting military parades or meals. He concisely discussed his business, then saluted and left.

It may seem like he just pops in for a light chat, but he’ll probably show up again next week or so to report on the progress of the requested items.

The Vice Minister's actions, paying attention to the grievances of the front lines while wasting almost no time, were quite to Rommel's liking.

“Well, he doesn't seem too bad.”

Rommel, being out on the front, didn't know much about internal politics, but everyone knew about the ability of the current Chancellor, Hjalmar Schacht, and according to his wife Lucie's letter, life was better now than under Hitler.

“It certainly seems better than during the Weimar days.”

Hearing Stauffenberg's words, Rommel chuckled.

In the German military, with its many officers of Junker origin, the Fourth Empire, which had declared it would reintroduce democracy even after the civil war ended, was viewed with considerable suspicion, but the government, which had shown its considerable capability through the German Civil War and the wartime situation, was slowly starting to be trusted.

Rommel lightly kissed the letter from his wife, put it away, then clapped his hands and shouted.

“Alright, let’s get to work. If the government does its job properly, so should the military!”