Two months after the Guernica bombing. A series of unexpected accidents occurred while participating in the Basque offensive.
The first was the explosion of the Hindenburg, Germany's prized giant passenger airship, in Arica.
I had a vague idea it would happen.
I just didn't know the exact date, and since it wasn't a very impactful event for the Korean Yoon Sung-il, I hadn't thought of it.
The Hindenburg was the culmination of the Germans' love for airships, dating back to World War I, and a symbol of this era in Germany, actively used by Nazi Germany for promoting the 1936 Berlin Olympics.
It seed to be causing a stir in Germany, with talk of a Jewish conspiracy, and above all, the mbers of the Condor Legion appeared quite shocked by the accident where Germany's prized luxury airship burned and many people died.
Once World War II breaks out, a series of disasters will occur that will make such an accident seem trivial, but for now, no one knows that.
And so I missed a disaster I might have been able to prevent if I had just rembered it.
Second, General Emilio Mola of the Nationalist faction, the commander-in-chief of the northern front and leader of the current Basque campaign, died.
Apparently, his transport aircraft crashed while crossing a mountain range because he had loaded too much of his flashy military uniform onto it.
Franco's foundation was further solidified, and while conspiracy theories did arise, the ridiculously stupid reason for the plane crash caused them to be quietly dismissed.
Both events were significant, though I hadn't anticipated either of them.
And these incidents served as a wake-up call for , who had been full of ideas about actively using my future knowledge after eting Willy Brandt.
I know a fair amount about this era and Germany, but that doesn't an I know everything about this era.
Unless I can conveniently search for data in real-ti like in modern tis, human mory naturally has its limits.
So I must be prudent. The task I'm undertaking is none other than attempting to dismantle a uniquely evil and tenacious group, the likes of which are hard to find in all of world history.
-
June 25, 1937
Andalusia, Southern Spain, Port of Cadiz Although General Mola died, the offensive in the northern theater continued regardless, achieving results, and the Nationalist faction captured Bilbao, the capital of the Basque region.
The Basque Resistance abandoned the city and retreated to the Province of Cantabria just to the west, and in the process, suffered imnse losses and civilian casualties from the Condor Legion's bombings.
And the results of the Guernica Air Raid, the destruction of the city, at least satisfied Hitler. Once the existence and feats of the Condor Legion beca known to the world, the Nazis, on the contrary, began to send additional support without hesitation.
Lieutenant Colonel Richthofen's Spanish had improved to the point where he could now hold simple conversations with Spanish officers, albeit with so stumbling, and with additional interpreter officers dispatched in this wave of reinforcents, there was no longer a need for
to be his interpreter.
Just in ti, the Condor Legion's army, which had suffered heavy losses in battle, was also receiving reinforcents, so now I would be returning to my original unit.
This was my last mission with Richthofen, who, aside from his problem of being an incendiary bombing maniac, was a decent enough superior.
"First Lieutenant, this is really the last ti, but are you sure you don't want to transfer branches? I'm not one to recomnd such things lightly."
"I know. But I'll gratefully accept just the thought, Lieutenant Colonel."
We were here to greet the personnel who had arrived as reinforcents from our ho country, Germany.
I had to fly all the way to southern Spain on a transport aircraft as soon as Bilbao fell, but I didn't mind.
Because this wave of reinforcents included the Bf 109 fighter aircraft!
Richthofen gave
a strange look when I rejoiced at the news that the Bf 109 was coming—a fighter that appeared in every movie or show about the German Military in World War II—but for soone who knows about World War II, the appearance of a familiar weapon was quite moving.
Now, at least until the Battle of Britain, air superiority belongs to the German Military. To think of the ti we suffered, having our air superiority stolen by those damn early model Soviet fighters…
As I was grinning to myself, Richthofen laughed as if he found it absurd.
"You're that happy, First Lieutenant? I suppose the 88 (Acht-Acht - 8.8cm Anti-aircraft Gun), in which you played a big part, is also arriving this ti."
"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel. With the Bf 109 and the improved 88, we can finally breathe a little easier."
The biggest achievent I gained while working with Richthofen was the early improvent of the 8.
8 cm FlaK, the all-purpose anti-aircraft gun used by the German Military in World War II.
Since it was fundantally an anti-aircraft gun, I requested improvents for its poor mobility and structural issues, which hadn't accounted for anti-tank warfare.
I asked to add a gun shield and improve the gun's traverse function and carriage, changes that would have originally co next year or later.
Thanks to G??ring's greed, the anti-aircraft gun was a weapon that was semi-attached to the Luftwaffe, and Lieutenant Colonel Richthofen, emphasizing that the gun was surprisingly unnecessary for airbase defense and citing the excellent military gains the 88 Anti-aircraft Gun had achieved in ground combat, supported my case, so it passed without issue.
It was a small but important change that I had to wrestle with reports for as if writing a thesis, but thanks to that, I seem to have scored so points with the Army Command. I should be grateful to Lieutenant Colonel Richthofen.
"They're here."
Watching a group of n disembark from the transport ship that arrived from Germany, I straightened my posture.
I had a complex mix of surprise and joy knowing these people were coming, but it's a strange feeling to see figures I had only seen in black-and-white photos in the distant future approaching , alive, before my very eyes.
One of them, Adolf Galland, had the sa first na as Hitler and even grew a mustache, making him stand out.
Though, unlike Hitler, he had a gentler impression.
He's a little younger than
and a rank lower, a Second Lieutenant, but he'll beco an ace and a key figure in the Luftwaffe during World War II and a man of principle, rare in the Wehrmacht, who would resolutely refuse to participate in war cris.
And, the person walking at the very front is…
"Heil Hitler!"
As I perford the Nazi salute alongside Richthofen, I shouted loudly, just this once.
Not out of loyalty to Hitler, but with respect for the hero who would struggle in the worst of situations to protect his collapsing fatherland.
"Heil Hitler."
The man in his 40s wearing a monocle accepted the greeting appropriately and grinned.
"Colonel Walther Model, dispatched from the Berlin Staff Headquarters. I look forward to working with you."
-
It took quite so ti to unload the equipnt sent as reinforcents from Germany.
Additional Panzer I tanks, Bf 109 fighter aircraft, bombers like the He 111, Do 17, and Hs 123, and even a prototype of the Flak 36, an improved version of the 88 Anti-aircraft Gun fitted with a gun shield as requested by myself and the Condor Legion.
As far as I knew, the Stuka (Ju 87 Dive Bomber), famous for its trumpet-like siren during dives, was supposed to be tested in the Spanish Civil War, but it wasn't here yet.
A symbol of the German Air Force in World War II, along with the Bf 109…
And in the anti, I had to spend my ti breaking out in a cold sweat while with the man I most admired and respected among the German generals of World War II.
"It's hot.
Hot as Afrika, so maybe we should call it Spanika?"
…?
At Colonel Model's remark, the officers, including myself, stared at each other blankly for a long mont before belatedly starting to laugh. I have no idea what he's talking about, but let's just laugh…
"Ha, haha, hahahahaha!"
"Seeing you all so amused makes the effort I put into thinking that up on the ship worthwhile."
Watching the grinning colonel, I scread internally.
The fad commander shining in the history of World War II, the 'Lion of Defense,' 'The Führer's Fireman,' the 'Miraculous Rebuilder,' the 'Guardian of the Eastern Front'—to think that the last hope of Germany in World War II was this kind of person!
"Laughter is precious on the battlefield. You all should train your sense of humor as well."
The single line left in the records, 'Walther Model enjoyed exchanging fun jokes with his soldiers,' I didn't know it ant this until I t him myself.
In any case, Colonel Walther Model was said to have co to serve as Lieutenant General Thoma's chief of staff, befitting the scale of the reinforced army.
I didn't even know he had participated in the Spanish Civil War, so you can imagine my surprise when I saw his na on the reinforcent list.
While I was participating in the Basque campaign as an Army Advisor, the composition of our company also changed. The company was on standby anyway, but in the anti, Klens had beco the company adjutant after
and had been managing the company as the acting company commander.
Two new officers also joined our company. Second Lieutenant Egon Ross, who would take over from Klens as the 1st Platoon Leader, and Second Lieutenant Karlheinz Beckermann, who would take over as the 3rd Platoon Leader.
Second Lieutenant Julius Habenstein, who had been suffering from depression after losing his adjutant, was said to have applied for a military discharge in my absence, his spirit completely broken after experiencing the horrific sight of the Battle of Guadalajara.
In the Condor Legion, he was being ridiculed as a weakling.
It feels strange to think that I could have chosen that path.
"Well.
The unloading seems to be finishing up, so let's get going. Since we're the Kondor Legion, let's go offer the enemy our Kondolenz (condolences)!"
"Ha, haha, hahaha…"
My respected Field Marshal Model.
No, Colonel. Even so, this is a bit…
-
Lieutenant Colonel Richthofen, leading the newly arrived Second Lieutenant Adolf Galland's 3rd Air Group, impressively took to the skies, personally piloting one of the new Bf 109s and other aircraft.
It was a bit bittersweet, but it was a farewell befitting him.
I moved by road with the support troops, such as chanics, and the army reinforcents.
I was dispatched to the Luftwaffe as soon as I was appointed company commander, so I've never actually acted as one…
Still, as a company commander, I felt a bit of pressure to maintain a good relationship with the newly assigned Second Lieutenant Ross and Second Lieutenant Beckermann.
But after traveling with them, I realized there was no need for such pressure.
Surprisingly, none at all.
We had to endure Colonel Model's relentless jokes throughout the journey, and as a result, we naturally developed a sense of empathy and beca close easily.
The 9th Army under Walther Model was said to have strong comradeship and be very well-bonded. Surely this wasn't the reason…
Nah, no way.
…Give
back the fad commander in my heart.
-
After arriving at Salamanca, the main strongpoint of Nationalist Spain, I parted ways with Colonel Model and personnel from other units, took the two second lieutenants with , and made my return and transfer report to the battalion commander, Major Beckers, after a long ti.
Only after that could I finally return to my company, which I had missed, in a way. I've been away for almost three months…
"Klens!"
"Dietrich!"
After sending Second Lieutenant Ross and Second Lieutenant Beckermann to their respective platoons, I was finally able to share a hug and a happy reunion with Klens, who was now my adjutant.
"It's too late, but thank you, Klens. I survived thanks to you looking out for ."
"Hey, hey, what's between us? Oh, my bad, you're a First Lieutenant now."
"Who cares? It's just the two of us."
It's a bit embarrassing for two grown n to be like this, but he said it was Klens who took care of
in the chaos after I was hit by an air raid while frantically retreating from Guadalajara.
He was a precious batchmate and a lifesaver whom I was seeing after a long ti.
"Was being an Air Force gopher fun?"
"Uh, well, it was what it was.
Just got a bit close with a high-ranking lieutenant colonel, that's all. How about here?"
"Well, we basically had it easy on standby. Though that's because so many died or were injured."
"Right… Well, you must not have had much to do. Is that why? You look a bit more relaxed."
"Oh, you think so? With nothing to do, I just went around eting so pretty girls! Haha!"
"Anyway, now that reinforcents have arrived, the good old days are over."
Yeah, our company suffered severe damage in the last battle and was on standby in the rear, occasionally helping with training the Spanish Army, but now we'll be heading back to the front line.
The attention seeker Hitler, excited by the world's focus on the Luftwaffe's feats, is now expecting the army to show results as well.
The problem is that it's more of a massacre than a feat, and more horror than attention.
As we were chatting and I was getting updated on what had happened, a knock was heard just as our conversation was ending.
"Hm?"
Normally, the adjutant… well, he's right next to , so not him, but the adjutant or a non-commissioned officer would co in first to announce a visitor, but there was none of that.
"It's Habenstein, First Lieutenant."
"Ah, co in."
The forr 3rd Company Commander, Second Lieutenant Julius Habenstein, entered with a slightly intimidated face and gave a Nazi salute.
"Heil Hitler!"
"…"
When I, not wanting to shout 'long live Hitler', just gave a casual wave of my hand, he seed to misinterpret it and shrank back a little more.
It feels strange to be in a position to receive a salute from soone I was living with as a fellow second lieutenant until just a while ago.
Co to think of it, was this man waiting outside the whole ti we were talking?
Habenstein hesitated for a mont, and seeing Klens looking at him with an overtly pathetic gaze, I could guess how he had been treated while I was away.
If I hadn't beco company commander and had begged Major Beckers for a discharge at that hospital, would Klens have looked at
with those sa eyes?
I don't know.
But it's a sad state of affairs.
"You're here for your discharge papers, right? Second Lieutenant."
"Yes, that's correct, First Lieutenant."
The new 3rd Platoon Leader, Second Lieutenant Beckermann, had only just arrived, so he would have had to hold his position until now.
He was here to go back to his ho country after handing over his duties to him.
"Coward…"
Hearing Klens mutter it loud enough to be heard, I couldn't bear to watch any longer.
"Second Lieutenant Fleck?"
When I deliberately used his official title, Klens gave
a questioning look.
"Could you excuse us for a mont?"
"…Yes, First Lieutenant."
Klens left without another word.
I'll have to apologize to him later.
I got up from my seat and walked over to Habenstein.
"Second Lieutenant Julius Habenstein."
The second lieutenant flinched slightly and looked at
as if wondering what I was doing, and I grabbed his shoulders and straightened them.
"Shoulders straight. We've spent a lot of ti together.
What are you so scared of?"
"B-But I… N-No, I…"
This is an era before PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder, even had an official na, with only the concept of shell shock existing.
It's common for soldiers to experience PTSD on the battlefield, but soldiers who suffer from truly severe PTSD beco unable to serve on the front lines.
This is common sense in modern tis, but such a concept didn't exist yet in this era.
Soldiers who couldn't endure and broke down were criticized, but the atmosphere was that it was even more unacceptable for an officer, who should be the bravest of all and an exemplar for his soldiers.
The story of Patton, who cursed at and struck a subordinate suffering from PTSD, calling him a coward, is famous, but it's not just his story alone.
But this isn't a symptom that only cowards get.
It's just a matter of degree.
Even I am sotis tornted by the sound of artillery shells ringing in my ears.
"You are not a coward. I guarantee it.
You held your ground until the end at Guadalajara, didn't you?"
Although he made the mistake of sending a private as a ssenger, he had lost his adjutant in the previous battle and his new adjutant had just fallen, but he still carried out my orders for the delaying action and held his position until he received permission to retreat.
I couldn't let a man who didn't abandon his comrades and run away to save himself, no matter how painful and terrifying it was, be sent ho in disgrace, branded a coward.
"I'm sorry. I, I can't anymore…"
"It's okay. If being fine after killing people is sothing to be proud of, then the ones who boast about it are the strange ones. At least I know how hard you tried."
I took out a small pouch I had been carrying since the Battle of Guadalajara and pressed it into the hands of the tearful Habenstein.
"This is…"
"Captain Kaufmann's letter to his family and his dog tag. You go and deliver them. A man who fought bravely in the final battle where he fell deserves that right."
"First Lieutenant…"
"Now, you can go.
I won't say you did a good job. If anyone says anything to you again, I'll take it as an insult to , so carry out your final order and go ho!"
It was more embarrassing than I thought for a rookie company commander riff-raff to be putting on airs like this.
Still, Second Lieutenant Habenstein, no, Julius Habenstein's final expression as he left didn't seem too bad.
But if the Nazis start World War II and the German-Soviet War breaks out as things are, those who were discharged like him, as well as children and the elderly, will all be dragged to the battlefield.
It's still a lousy era, but at least I felt a little bit of gratitude towards God.
At the very least, I was given a body and mind strong enough not to break down like that, even on the battlefield.
And I have a chance, a chance to stop even those people from being driven back to the battlefield.
To overthrow the Nazis, those sons of bitches of the century, and prevent the most terrible disaster in human history.
I am surely here for that.
Reviews
All reviews (0)