November 21, 1939
Northern Germany, Southwestern Brandenburg – 10th Army Defense Line
[This is Erwin von Witzleben, Commander of the National Defense Force's Northern Front Army! Wehrmacht, surrender! Do not be deceived by Nazi propaganda! The New Governnt is not Germany's enemy! I repeat. This is Erwin von Witzleben, Commander of the National Defense Force's Northern Front Army! Wehrmacht, surrender! Do not be deceived by Nazi propaganda! The New Governnt is not Germany's enemy!]
“Hey, Captain Michael.
Don't you think we're screwed?”
“I agree.”
Captains Klens Fleck and Roger Michael, each leading their own companies in the 10th Army, were in a difficult situation.
They had received a sudden order to retreat and had just started packing, but before they could even finish, they were witnessing the enemy broadcasting a call to surrender while attacking.
“Company Commander, what do we do?”
“Don't ask .
What would a re company commander like
know?”
Klens felt a surge of frustration at his troopers, who were all looking at him. As re front-line company commanders, they didn't know the detailed war situation.
The difference between the war situation described by the New Governnt's broadcast and the Nazi broadcast was imnse.
Emotionally, he was drawn to the New Governnt, which had his friend and a just cause, but it was a matter of life and death, too great a risk to make a decision based on that alone.
“What are you going to do, Captain Fleck?”
Roger Michael, Dietrich's War Academy batchmate, was a rather serious type, but even his face was quite anxious.
“Ugggh, Dietrich, you bastard!”
Dietrich, that damn bastard.
If he'd just told
clearly beforehand, I would have switched sides imdiately—
—or so he thought, but he honestly wasn't sure. He wouldn't have snitched on his friend, but that guy must have had to be cautious too.
As he was about to complain about the state of their friendship, he realized that, in retrospect, Dietrich had asked him persistently and in various roundabout ways.
He was the one who, without a clue what his friend was thinking, had answered carelessly and half-heartedly out of annoyance.
“Aaargh…”
Klens scratched his head roughly. He never thought his motto of living a comfortable and easy life would co back to bite him like this.
As he stood there, unable to do one thing or the other, the Wehrmacht's own loudspeakers suddenly blared to life as if to make a broadcast.
[Gentlen of the proud German Wehrmacht.
This is Lieutenant General Walther Model, Chief of Staff of Army Group South.]
“Huh?”
Both Klens and Michael snapped their heads up.
[As the Chief of Staff of Army Group South, I am ashad to have to inform you of the disastrous war situation. The enemy has seized all of Germany except for Berlin, Bohemia, and Silesia.
Currently, the enemy is encircling the 14th Army stationed in Bohemia-Moravia and launching a general offensive.]
At those words, a stir went through the soldiers, who had known almost nothing of the specific war situation and had vaguely assud they were in a standoff, thanks to Doctor Goebbels's propaganda.
Of course, Doctor Goebbels had boasted that they had the montum of victory and the rebellion would soon be suppressed, but few believed they were winning when they themselves couldn't advance and weren't even receiving proper supplies.
But if the Chief of Staff was telling the truth, then everything the New Governnt radio had been saying was true, and Doctor Goebbels had been lying.
While the soldiers and officers were frozen in shock, Walther Model's broadcast continued.
[The 4th Army, which was stationed in Stettin, has surrendered to the enemy and is now advancing on Berlin from the northeast.
Given our current military strength, there is no possibility of rescuing the encircled 14th Army in Bohemia-Moravia.]
As Walther Model paused after those words, every Wehrmacht soldier in the 10th Army waited, holding their breath.
A mont later, Walther Model spoke again, his voice sounding as if he were suppressing sothing powerful.
[…We have lost the war.
But this is not your fault. All responsibility lies with the leadership and with , the Army Group Chief of Staff.
]
While Model was broadcasting, the sound of footsteps and a door bursting open could be heard unfiltered through the loudspeaker.
[Model, what are you doing!]
Despite the voice of Army Group South's Commander, Brauchitsch, Walther Model spoke again.
[Until now, you have all served with loyalty according to the Wehrmacht's service creed, despite the orders of an immoral governnt. As the Chief of Staff of Army Group South, I express my gratitude for that dedication.
]
[Walther Model!]
[Gentlen, you have already fulfilled a soldier's duty splendidly as proud sons of Germany. There is no need to be ashad even though we have lost the war.
From now on, judge for yourselves based on what you have seen and felt. That is all.
]
With that, the broadcast ended.
“…General Model.”
While Captain Roger Michael solemnly took off his hat and looked toward the loudspeaker, Klens pulled out a knife, walked over to the Wehrmacht flag fluttering on the defense line, and tore it down.
The flag, made of the colors of iron and blood, fell to the dirt, and Klens turned to his subordinates.
“Uh, anyone here opposed to surrendering?”
Seeing everyone shake their heads, Klens scratched his head and said,
“Hey, hey, bring
a blanket or sothing, any white cloth. If we're surrendering, it's gotta be a white flag!”
“Why do you seem so excited about surrendering…”
Captain Roger Michael muttered in disbelief, but he didn't stop Klens.
-
“How could you do this! Betraying the Führer, and ?”
Despite Brauchitsch's questioning, Walther Model answered in a low but resolute voice.
“Senior.
I cannot allow innocent and loyal soldiers to bear the responsibility for a hopeless war situation created by a criminal regi.”
Hearing Model's words, Brauchitsch collapsed onto the spot.
“I, I, I… I trusted you.”
Walther Model slowly closed his eyes as he looked at the pathetic, slumped figure of the man who was once his deeply respected superior and ntor.
“How could you abandon
like this, after how well, how well I treated you!”
But to do that would be to close his subordinates' ears, to make them fight against their own compatriots for a criminal regi, and that would be abandoning them.
Instead of offering such an explanation, Walther Model bowed his head to Brauchitsch.
“I apologize. I believed they, at least, had the right to know the truth and choose.”
But even at Model's words, Brauchitsch shouted in despair.
“I protected you even when the Führer suspected you!”
“…I am aware.”
“It's over for
now, it's over….”
The sight of his ntor collapsed on the ground, blaming him, filled Walther Model with guilt, but he had no regrets.
“…I am sorry.”
As the staff officers, watching Brauchitsch sitting on the floor, having completely lost his senses in despair, began to whisper and leave the headquarters one by one, Walther Model remained standing, guarding Brauchitsch's front.
How much ti had passed?
The sound of combat boots echoed in the headquarters building, and soon, soldiers of the National Defense Force poured into the broadcasting room where Brauchitsch and Model were.
Walther Model kept his gaze fixed on his ntor, still sitting on the floor.
Clomp, clomp. The sound of slow footsteps walking down the hall echoed, and the one who entered the room was General Erwin von Witzleben.
“Colonel General Walther von Brauchitsch, Commander of Army Group South.”
“Witzleben….”
Only after hearing his official title and na did Brauchitsch look up at Witzleben with a bewildered face.
“I am arresting you on the charge of collaborating with a criminal regi that has colluded with traitors who have plunged the fatherland into a war crisis.”
Brauchitsch, still sitting, was grabbed by the arms by soldiers, forced to his feet, and dragged away.
Walther Model did not take his eyes off Brauchitsch until the very end.
“Lieutenant General Walther Model, Chief of Staff of Army Group South.”
Erwin von Witzleben looked at Model, paused for a mont, and then continued.
“Vice Minister of the Chancellery, Dietrich Schacht, was very worried about you. The fact that a significant portion of the 10th Army surrendered without bloodshed is your achievent.
How about we treat this as your surrender?”
Walther Model smiled bitterly at Witzleben's words but shook his head.
“I appreciate the goodwill.
But…”
Walther Model glanced toward the passageway where Brauchitsch had been dragged away, then looked back at Witzleben and spoke.
“I am his Chief of Staff.”
“…I see.”
Witzleben let out a small sigh and spoke.
“Lieutenant General Walther Model. I am arresting you on the charge of collaborating with a criminal regi that has colluded with traitors who have plunged the fatherland into a war crisis.
…You will be escorted with respect.”
With the arrests of Army Group South's Commander Walther von Brauchitsch and Chief of Staff Walther Model, the Wehrmacht's Army Group South effectively collapsed.
Walther von Reichenau's 10th Army retreated to Berlin after losing over half its forces to surrender, and Wilhelm List's 14th Army declared its surrender the next day.
-
November 22, 1939
Central Germany, 9th Military District Kassel; New Governnt Capital Frankfurt I arrived in front of the Emperor's mansion first thing in the morning and got out of the car.
In the brief mont waiting for the attendant to open the door, the telegram in my hand—a single sheet of paper—felt heavy.
“Welco, Vice Minister.
You said it was urgent. What is it?”
Watching the Emperor, Wilhelm III, greet
with a bright smile, I bit my lip slightly.
“…Your Majesty the Emperor.”
At this, Wilhelm III arched an eyebrow as if puzzled, and straightened up from his casually cross-legged posture.
“You must have heard the news that the Italian Army has begun a general offensive in Tyrol.”
“I have.”
I took a deep breath before speaking.
“Yesterday, their bombing destroyed over 50% of the urban areas in the region's major cities, including Tyrol's provincial capital, Innsbruck.
Casualties are being tallied, but it will take ti.”
Though I rationally thought that it would have been difficult for us to send more aid for Tyrol's defense anyway, I couldn't shake off the sense of sha.
The records of the Italian Army's poorly-fought battles that I had seen and laughed at in modern tis. Deceived by such things, and because the Austrian Border Guard had routed them with an unexpectedly good fight.
We had grossly underestimated Italy.
“The entire Tyrol region is on the verge of being lost.
And…”
The Emperor was watching
as if to say, continue.
For the first ti since the coup d'état, I realized I was feeling fear.
What was I afraid of?
“His Highness, Prince Wilhelm, has been killed in action.”
Emperor Wilhelm III's eyes widened slightly, and as he remained frozen, I continued my report.
“Their Deputy Commander, Giovanni sse, recovered and handed over the remains. The Italian Minister of Foreign Affairs, Count Ciano, expressed his regret, stating it was an accidental occurrence during battle.”
I handed him the telegram, and a silence that felt far too long hung between
and the Emperor before he finally spoke.
“Count Blunthal will be saddened.”
As he t my gaze, the Emperor, having completely regained his composure, spoke with an expressionless face.
“It is a regret.
But now that a mber of the Imperial family has been killed by the Italian Army, we can use this to unify the people's will. It's your domain, so I trust you will handle it well.”
I was at a loss for words, staring at him blankly.
“Why, is there more to report?”
“…How will you proceed with His Highness the Prince's state funeral?”
The Emperor finally nodded.
“We must. Hmm, since it's during a war, let's not make it overly grand.
I must call for Cecilie. She would play the role of the tragic mother the public expects perfectly.”
I realized I had unknowingly clenched my fist and forced it open again.
“What will you do about the Prince's family?”
“Family? Ah, ahh… them.”
The Emperor, who had shown such humanity at the port where the Kaiser's Empire lost its great fleet, now seed to feel little emotion at the death of his own blood relative.
Was it just my imagination, or did he seem to think it was a bit of a sha, but a political gain?
“They are not mbers of the Imperial family.
Well, would it be good to fra this as an inspiring story of the Imperial family taking in the family of an imperial family mber who dedicated himself to Germany?”
“…They will need to receive a pension as mbers of the Imperial family, so I will request approval from the War Cabinet.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Then, I will take my leave, Your Majesty.”
As I bowed to him respectfully, he said with a slight smile,
“I trust that you will capably turn the Imperial family's loss into a nationwide will to fight.
See to it.”
I turned my back on him.
Public opinion within Austria is already leaning towards the New Governnt, which is helping them fight against the Italian invasion.
On top of that, Hitler, an Austrian, sold out Tyrol, while a German prince died fighting for Austria.
The Emperor is right.
It's a perfect story for propaganda to win the support of an Austria still under Nazi control and to inspire the will to fight against Italy.
But if we do this, how are our thods any different from the Nazis'?
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