July 28, 1939
A Pub in Downtown Berlin, Northern Germany
“Hahaha, diplomacy is war waged in tis of peace. Fools who don't understand that can't conduct any diplomacy at all.
And all the guys in our Foreign Ministry are like that!”
“Hehe, Minister Ribbentrop, your skills are incredible. From the Anschluss to the Munich Agreent.
The British and French diplomats are completely overwheld by you, aren't they?”
In a pub in downtown Berlin, on a Friday evening, Ribbentrop, who had been called out under the pretext of an interview, was still chattering away energetically.
Claudia, who had been listening to Ribbentrop's stories for a full two hours, was seething with irritation and anxiety, but she humored him with a smiling face.
“Hahaha, as expected from a reporter, you really know your stuff! Ahh—drinking with such a wise beauty makes the alcohol taste great!”
“On the contrary, I’m the one who’s delighted to be in the company of the world's greatest foreign minister.”
Claudia replied to Ribbentrop and took a sip of her beer, but she was thinking, 'Hasn't he drunk enough to need the restroom at least once?'
The pub's closing ti was slowly approaching, and the once-packed crowd had thinned out considerably.
Claudia suppressed the urge to bite her lip, continuing to entertain his talk while pondering what to do.
“Haha, I think this every ti I see you, but you are truly a beautiful woman.
If the missus were as beautiful as you, I'd rush straight ho after work every day! Haha!”
“Ah, yes…”
Just go already if you're that drunk! She desperately wanted to snap at him. The Abwehr agents waiting outside must be on edge too.
Ribbentrop drained half his beer mug, set it down with a clank, and grinned.
“I really like you, you know.
You're easy to talk to, beautiful, and you don't say useless things. How wonderful.
I wish my staff at the Foreign Ministry were half as good as you.”
“I'm always grateful for your high opinion of .
Thanks to you, Minister, I can hold my head high at the company.”
After her lover, Dietrich, invited her to the resistance, she had consulted with the branch chief and imdiately processed her resignation.
She only sent materials secretly to Editor Heuss and hadn't even shown up to work at the Frankfurter Zeitung for nearly a year.
While skillfully dealing with Ribbentrop, Claudia watched out of the corner of her eye as the last custors paid and left the pub.
Now, only she and Ribbentrop were left in the establishnt.
“Hehehe, in that case, I shall give my reporter a gift.”
As if oblivious to the fact that the pub was empty, Ribbentrop leaned his head close to Claudia with a suggestive expression.
Claudia flinched and almost pushed him away, but by the ti Ribbentrop began to whisper suggestively in her ear, she had barely managed to regain her composure.
“I am currently pursuing sothing so great it will render all old-fashioned diplomacy obsolete.”
And at that mont, Claudia made her decision.
Praying her voice wouldn't tremble, she replied to Ribbentrop.
“Oh, really? I'm so excited to hear what it is.
For soone of your stature, Minister, to be so secretive…”
As she spoke, she grasped the capsule in her pocket. Trying to open it unseen, her sweaty hands made it slip, and it wouldn't open easily.
“…that you'd tell .”
She wasn't even sure if the smile that she would normally wear with utmost confidence was forming properly, as she struggled desperately to open the capsule.
“Haha, but if I'm to give you such a wooooonderful gift, shouldn't there be a reward?”
Ribbentrop was still speaking in a whisper, his head close to Claudia's.
“A reward… you say?”
Claudia smiled at his words, but a cold sweat ran down her back as she struggled.
“Oh, my beautiful reporter. Don't be so nervous.
It's nothing much. I'm just saying I'd like to have a more ‘private’ eting.
Hahaha.”
“A ‘private’ eting…”
Normally, she would have been furious, thinking 'is this crazy bastard trying to make
his mistress?', but that wasn't the issue right now.
Looking straight at Ribbentrop, who had fortunately misinterpreted her stiff expression as nervousness, Claudia finally succeeded in opening the capsule after a desperate struggle.
“That's right, my dear reporter.
If you just say yes, I'll let you land a scoop on this incredible news faster than anyone else in the world. Haha… isn't that good for both of us?”
“Aha, I see.”
Smiling at Ribbentrop, who was still staring intently at her face from the side, Claudia carefully held the capsule in her right hand and reached out, fumbling for his beer mug.
“So, what is your answer, reporter?”
“Umm…”
Pretending to contemplate, Claudia finally found his beer mug after much fumbling, but seeing her hesitation, he feigned disappointnt and began to pull away.
“…! You're so impatient.”
By a hair's breadth, Claudia reached out her left hand, grabbed his chin, and pulled him in gently with a deep smile.
Watching Ribbentrop's surprised face lt into a dopey grin at her smile, Claudia poured the contents of the capsule into his beer mug.
“I'm not cheap, Minister.
If you want to et
‘privately,’ I'd like to first hear if your ‘great’ news is worth it.”
“Haha, hahaha.
Ah, my, my. A woman who can keep a man like
in suspense.
It's making
thirsty.”
Ribbentrop's expression blatantly said, ‘insolent wench,’ but that ant nothing to Claudia.
The re few seconds it took for Ribbentrop to gulp down his beer felt like minutes to her, filled with anxiety.
“Well, very well.
Haha. You are a woman worthy of it, so I shall… a non-aggr… between Germany and the Soviet Union…”
Before he could finish, Ribbentrop slumped forward, and Claudia, who had been waiting, caught him and laid him on the table.
“Oh dear, I told you that you were drinking too much…”
Claudia spoke with deliberate exaggeration, then, with an apologetic look, placed the paynt and a hefty tip on the table before helping Ribbentrop to his feet.
“I'm sorry, sir.
Were we here for too long?”
“Oh- haha, not at all! Have a good night!”
The owner, who had been wearing a 'can't kick out a Nazi official, but when will these eyesores leave-' expression, broke into a huge grin upon seeing the generous tip and saw them off.
As Claudia struggled, half-dragging Ribbentrop outside, a waiting car pulled up right in front of them, and he was swiftly shoved into the back seat.
“…Auf Wiedersehen. (Goodbye)”
As Claudia bid her cold farewell, the car drove away with Ribbentrop inside.
---
August 20, 1939
Moscow, Capital of the Soviet Union, Russia The General Secretary of the Soviet Red Federation that occupied the vast expanse of Russia, Joseph Stalin, sat in his office, listening to a report with a deep frown creasing his entire face.
“France says it can mobilize 100 divisions, and Britain only 4.
On top of that, the French bastards' condition is that they won't move beyond the Maginot Line…”
The speaker was Marshal Klint Voroshilov, Stalin's closest aide and friend, but his reporting deanor was quite cautious.
The shadow of the Great Purge, in which an countless number of people had been eliminated, still cast a pall of terror over the Soviet Union.
Stalin had been in a foul mood ever since Britain refused his request to send Foreign Secretary Lord Halifax.
And when a negotiating team of a much lower caliber than their prepared courtesy arrived leisurely by passenger ship and spent a day sightseeing in Leningrad (present-day St.
Petersburg), he had cursed them out, asking if they had co on vacation.
“…These goddamn capitalist pigs have no intention of allying with us.”
At Stalin's blunt remark, Voroshilov hesitated before speaking up.
“My thoughts exactly, Koba.”
Stalin sighed and turned his gaze to Lavrentiy Beria, head of the Soviet secret police, the NKVD, who was standing next to Voroshilov.
Although he was the chief architect of the Great Purge, a figure of terror throughout the Soviet Union, even he smiled subserviently and bowed before Stalin.
“I investigated as you ordered, but she is not a mber of the Red Orchestra. The suspect's movents are untraceable, and given how ticulous it was, it doesn't seem to be a simple hate cri.
It seems certain she received support from a faction within Germany, Comrade General Secretary.”
The assassination of German Foreign Minister Ribbentrop was a major story in the world press.
The Nazis lost significant face for failing to arrest a suspect in the murder of a minister, and they belatedly investigated her trail.
It was unlikely to be a murder born of a personal grudge, as evidence was found that she had gotten a job as a journalist years ago to approach Ribbentrop.
When it was revealed that the suspect, Claudia Jung, had been a socialist activist in her university days, the already anti-communist Nazi regi boiled with rage, accusing the Soviet Union of masterminding it.
“…Or it could be the work of those British or French bastards who want us to bleed against Germany…”
With his attempt to form an alliance with Britain and France to counter a rearming Germany that relentlessly espoused anti-communism having fizzled out due to their absurd attitude, Stalin naturally harbored such suspicions.
“Comrade General Secretary, there have also been recent reports of secret contacts between German figures and the British.”
Beria's report further fueled Stalin's suspicions.
The nurous contacts attempted by the German resistance with Britain had all been uncovered by Soviet spies within Britain.
Although even they could not know the exact contents of the exchanges.
“Hah, I can't let them have their way. While those fascist bastards are drawing the attention of the capitalist pigs, we will make a move on Finland.”
Stalin thus concluded.
---
August 28, 1939
New Reich Chancellery (Neue Reichskanzlei), Berlin, Northern Germany
“Damn it, nothing is going right! That idiotic wine rchant got himself killed chasing after so commie bitch!”
Hitler shouted, slamming his fist on the desk.
The regi's support, which had soared to endless heights after the Munich Agreent, was slowly being overshadowed by the anxiety of war as Germany, Poland, Britain, France, and the Soviet Union fiercely condemned one another.
Public support was still at a decent level, but the atmosphere in the Wehrmacht was even more dire.
They were desperately opposing a war now, claiming that Britain and France, and even the Soviet Union, would join the fight.
“Idiots! Cowards steeped in defeatism! Didn't the Anglo-Franco-Soviet talks end with nothing! They can't join the war! It's the sa as with the Munich Agreent, why can't they see that!”
G??ring and Himmler were sweating bullets as they listened to Hitler's roars.
Hitler, fuming, seed to calm down a little, heaved a deep sigh, and asked G??ring.
“How much is left in the gold reserves?”
“My esteed Führer.
Forgive my impertinence, but at this rate, we cannot avoid a credit crisis. The companies that haven't been paid for the fo bills for years are on the verge of bankruptcy, and Czechoslovakia's gold reserves were a bit less than we thought…”
“Damn it! That blasted economy, economy!”
Despite Hjalmar Schacht's warnings, after diligently printing fo bills to run the munitions factories, Germany had plundered all the gold from the Czechoslovakian central bank and still lacked the funds to pay the companies.
They desperately needed a war. Whether the military opposed it or not, without a war, the state would go bankrupt and the regi would be overthrown.
In the end, Hitler looked at Himmler and ordered.
“Even those damn Wehrmacht won't have a choice if Poland declares war first.
Execute ‘Plan Himmler’.”
“Yes, my Führer!”
---
August 31, 1939
Gleiwitz, Breslau (Silesia), 8th Military District, Eastern Germany One day before the outbreak of World War II in the original history.
Gleiwitz, a city located in the highlands of Silesia on the German-Polish border, was ho to a radio station with the tallest wooden transmission tower.
[Grandma has passed away.
I repeat. Grandma has passed away.
]
“Grandma has passed away, confird.”
At the code phrase to comnce the operation transmitted by radio, SS-Captain Alfred Naujocks and his SD agents, who had been waiting in Gleiwitz for quite so ti, stretched themselves.
“It's been a long wait. What about the ‘canned goods’?”
“They are alive, but still unconscious.”
The n codenad ‘canned goods’ were prisoners selected by Heydrich from concentration camps and sent over in a comatose state induced by poison.
“Comnce the operation.
Change into Polish uniforms, and from now on, speak only Polish, not German. This is a very important mission.
No mistakes!”
“Yes, sir!”
The Nazis, wanting to avoid the intervention of other great powers in the event of an invasion of Poland, had been planning since May to fake a Polish declaration of war under the idea that it would suffice if Poland declared war first.
So-called ‘Plan Himmler.
’ Their mission was to attack the Gleiwitz radio station dressed in Polish uniforms and read a declaration of war in Polish.
Afterwards, to make it look like they were repelled by the German army and retreated, they would dress the comatose prisoners in Polish uniforms, lay them out, shoot them, and then present them to the press to fra it as an act by the Polish army.
Although Britain and France eventually joined the war anyway, it was a secret operation that, in the original history, led to Poland, which shed the most blood among the Allies aside from the Soviet Union, being treated poorly for supposedly giving the Nazis a pretext for war.
The truth that this incident was a complete fabrication by the SD was only revealed at the war cris trials after the war was completely over.
“Hngh… I'm sleepy… when's the relief shift… Huh?!”
The radio station guard had no choice but to imdiately raise his hands when n in Polish uniforms suddenly burst in and pointed their guns at him.
“P-Please spare , spare… Aack!”
The ‘Polish soldiers,’ without a word, struck the guard with their rifle butts.
“W-What, Polish soldiers?!”
“D-Don't shoot! We're civilians!”
The SD agents, needing to appear as realistic ‘Polish soldiers’ as possible, showed no rcy, and the employees unlucky enough to be on duty at the station late at night were rcilessly beaten, tied up with ropes, and thrown into a corner.
Having easily subdued the station, SS-Captain Naujocks smiled.
Everything was going smoothly. Now, all that was left was for the agent most fluent in Polish to read the declaration of war in Polish, and then appropriately shoot and scatter the prisoners.
I should probably shoot them in the back to make it look like they were shot while trying to escape. As he was leisurely thinking this, the lights in the radio station suddenly went out.
“Huh?”
“What the!”
The mont Naujocks frowned at his agents, who had inadvertently panicked in German, the sound of military boots echoed through the station, and with a bang, German soldiers poured through the open door.
“W-What?!”
Naujocks and the other ‘Polish soldiers’ were subdued in an instant.
For a mont, Naujocks wondered if he was being purged, but he quickly corrected his thought.
This mission was too important to be ruined like this.
There must have been so kind of mistake from Heydrich, the police, or perhaps the military.
Unable to explain themselves, as they couldn't exactly announce they were German soldiers, they were caught in a bind.
Finally, a man with the rank insignia of a Lieutenant Colonel stepped inside.
Naujocks cautiously tried to pull out his ID to prove he was from the SD, but he was struck hard by a rifle butt swung by a soldier watching him and had to spit out a broken tooth.
“You, fuck! I can't take this! I wasn't reaching for a weapon! We're the SD! You people are ruining an important mission for the Fatherland… Keok!”
Before Naujocks could finish, he was punched in the stomach by the ‘Lieutenant Colonel’ and collapsed.
“I know that very well, SS-Captain Naujocks.”
“Sir, the ones outside have also been subdued!”
The Lieutenant Colonel who received the report, Abwehr Deputy Director Hans Oster, nodded and ordered his n to release the station's employees.
“W-What, what on earth is happening?”
“The SS has committed an act of treason to drag Germany into war.
The situation is chaotic, so we will protect you.”
“Gasp… th-thank you.”
The innocent victims, the station's employees, would be valuable witnesses, so they had to be protected. Oster watched them, and when the power to the station was restored, he picked up the phone.
While waiting briefly after requesting a connection from the operator, Oster swallowed dryly.
There was no turning back now.
But was this really the right thing to do?
[This is Captain Schacht.]
“…Grandma has not passed away.”
[…You've done well, sir. Phase one is a success.
]
The sound of relieved sighs could be heard around Captain Schacht, and Oster hesitated for a mont. His conviction that Germany must be liberated from the devil Hitler had never once wavered.
But how many Germans would lose their lives because of this great undertaking? Oster had long agonized over whether he was prepared to bear the weight of those countless deaths.
As he remained silent, Captain Schacht's voice ca through the receiver.
[Sir, I don't know what the future holds, but I can tell you one thing for sure. If we leave Hitler's Germany as it is, there will be sacrifices we cannot even begin to imagine.
]
“Ha.”
This young-punk captain had clung to this task more fervently than anyone, as if he had nothing to lose.
Sotis he acted as if he could read my mind. Just like now.
Oster suddenly thought that he wouldn't have co this far without this fellow. And having co this far, there was no stopping.
“…Operation Widerstand (Resistance), requesting permission to execute.”
After the sound of the phone being passed to soone else on the other end.
A deep, heavy silence followed.
As Oster waited, swallowing dryly, the voice of Ludwig Beck ca through.
[Operation Widerstand, permission to execute is granted. …May God's protection be with us and with Germany.
]
“Confird. Comncing Operation Widerstand.
God's protection.”
The die that would change history had been cast.
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