July 7, 1937
Central Spain, West of Madrid, the Brunete Front
"Fuck, fuuuck…!"
"Aaaaargh!"
The Republican faction's 11th Division was tasting hell in the offensive they had ambitiously prepared.
Just charging in the insane heat was agonizing, but without proper cover, they were being ground to pieces by enemy machine guns.
"Aaargh, Miguel! Another one, another one blew up! What kind of anti-tank gun fires from this distance!"
The tanks that had always reliably covered them and led the charge to break through the front line had already, for the most part, turned into burning coffins.
The pride of the Republican faction, the Soviet-made tanks that had easily beaten the Nationalist faction's German-made or Italian-made tanks and shattered flimsy defense lines, were now blowing up left and right!
"What the hell is it, what the hell is going on!"
Lieutenant Colonel Malo scread as he grabbed his adjutant by the collar and shook him, but there was no way the adjutant would know.
"M-Maybe it's a new weapon…"
The Nationalist faction, at best, only used anti-tank rifles, and while the anti-tank guns provided by Germany were seen occasionally, their effective range was 300 ters at most.
At that range, on a clear day like this, and on a plain no less, it would naturally be possible to spot with the naked eye, and for the tanks to return fire.
But what in the world have those German bastards created that they're blowing up our tanks left and right before we can even get into range!
It couldn't be artillery. Artillery only has devastating power against infantry; unless you were unlucky enough to take a direct hit, it couldn't blow up a tank.
The Lieutenant Colonel, who had initially led a charge with only the armored unit and lost 10 tanks in less than an hour before hastily retreating, had to face the full wrath of Colonel Líster.
'Damn it, if you want to keep that rank insignia, you'd better make so military gains this ti by coordinating with the infantry!'
And so he went on the offensive again with a desperate heart, but the 11th Division, fad as the Republican faction's finest elite, was literally being ground to pieces.
The battlefield had so small hills and low mounds, but other than that, it was mostly open ground.
The drafters of the Brunete Offensive Operation had chosen this battlefield believing in the superiority of the Republican faction's armored strength, but the war situation was showing that their judgnt was not just wrong, but dead wrong.
Having attempted a charge across open ground against the Condor Legion, which possessed the strongest artillery power in the Nationalist faction, the Republican Army beca sacrifices to a concentrated bombardnt under the wide-open sky.
That bizarre anti-aircraft gun that would gain fa as the best anti-tank gun of World War II, the 8.
8cm Flak series, was an overpowered all-purpose gun capable of destroying the masterpiece dium tank T-34, which would appear in the German-Soviet War, with high-explosive shells, not even needing armor-piercing ones, if aid well.
The Soviet-made light tanks, which had seed powerful enough in the Spanish Civil War, could not withstand that concentrated bombardnt.
"R-Retreat."
"Lieutenant Colonel…"
"Retreat.
The attack is a failure…"
As he said that, Lieutenant Colonel Malo's face was as vacant as if his soul had left him.
-
"Ah, I'm dying.
Anyone have water?"
"Here."
"Oh, thanks, Company Commander."
Handing Klens the canteen with little left in it, I looked around the front line.
The enemy was successfully repelled, and compared to the intensity of the fierce battle, our losses were relatively low.
'I consciously avoided thinking about the nas or faces of those who were 'lost'.
'
You have to admit that if you worry about every single one, your mind will collapse first. That's how you survive.
Morale was so-so, but the company mbers were exhausted overall.
Honestly, it was the kind of weather where just breathing was difficult.
I desperately wanted an air conditioner.
A glass of iced coffee while enjoying the air conditioner's breeze, ahhh…
Hah, forget it.
"Let the n get so sleep. Have them sleep in shifts, one squad per platoon. For two hours each."
"Got it, Company Commander."
After giving the order to Klens, I also sat down roughly between the trenches and stared blankly at the battlefield.
Countless splatters of blood, rolling corpses, tanks turned to scrap tal…
Even at a glance, the losses the enemy suffered were far more severe than ours.
The indirect fire from the 88 Anti-aircraft Gun demonstrated even more incredible power than I had expected against the paper-armored light tanks of the interwar period.
The fact that the enemy attacked with only an armored unit into open ground perfect for shooting at played a big part, but with many of their tanks lost at the start of the battle, their montum was already broken by the ti they belatedly deployed with their infantry.
Moreover, the enemy artillery was wary of our own, so they could no longer carry out open artillery bombardnts.
It was a tiring situation, fighting a battle in a heatwave, but managing to get water to the troopers in ti so they could at least wet their throats while fighting…
Colonel Walther Model's influence must be great. Just having a new Chief of Staff has made a huge difference.
Did the Republican faction in the original history suffer such severe losses?
It's impossible to know. But it was certain that, at the very least, the losses they suffered had increased.
It didn't seem like a single battle's difference would cause a major change, but creating a aningful level of change for the first ti was both encouraging and concerning.
For now, I know all the major events, but the more I do, the more things will change.
"Gasp, h-Heil Hitler!"
"Heil Hitler!"
Suddenly hearing salutes, I turned around to see Colonel Model approaching.
Instead of giving the Nazi salute, I gave the Wehrmacht salute, and Colonel Model returned it as if it were a matter of course.
"Ah, carry on. I just ca to bring so water and check on the situation."
"Wow, water!"
"Tsk, hold your positions. As if they wouldn't share it out properly."
The troopers, exhausted from thirst, almost lost their minds at the word 'water', but thankfully, Klens stopped them in ti.
"It will take ti for the enemy to regroup as well, so it's fine to relax a little."
"Ah, I've already ordered them to rest by squad."
Colonel Model grinned at my words, and I smiled back.
The way the soldiers looked at him was close to respect. It seed the way Klens and the other Second Lieutenants looked at him had also changed a bit.
The people on the front lines must have felt most clearly that the tide of battle had changed since he arrived as Chief of Staff.
"It's reassuring to have you behind us, Colonel. This is the first ti we've received such tily artillery support and supplies."
"You have to use the resources you have.
If anything, I'm the one who's thankful, gentlen. Since the defense line is solid, I have more leeway with the reserve force."
Even while talking with , Colonel Model was walking along the defense line, checking every detail of the situation with his own eyes.
Thanks to him, a rare case for the General Staff who directly patrols the front line, the soldiers seed to be gaining morale.
Compared to the Lieutenant General who never showed his face or the previous Chief of Staff whose existence was uncertain, he was walking the very front line, analyzing the situation, and was actually resolving problems as quickly as possible when they arose.
"The indirect fire from the 88 Anti-aircraft Gun was truly excellent. The enemy armored units suffered severe losses. Your contribution was great."
"Thank you, Colonel!"
I just gave the idea; if not for Colonel Model's divine skill in creating the firing table at a monstrous speed, it would have been difficult to use it in this battle, but being praised by a fad commander acknowledged by history feels pretty good.
"So, should I propose we change the na to the Schacht-Schacht Gun?"
"Cough…"
Wait, that joke wasn't a one-off?
Ignoring , Model took a paper out from his coat and handed it to .
"Colonel, this is…?"
What is this? An operation plan docunt… is it?
A map showing the deploynt and marching routes for each unit, it was definitely an operation plan docunt.
"It's a draft with the deploynt and plans for each unit, including the reinforcents arriving tomorrow. Familiarize yourself with it, study what the problems with this plan docunt are and when would be a good ti to launch a counterattack, then submit your findings."
Wait, why give this to a re company commander…
Model must have read the question on my face, because he chuckled and slapped my shoulder with a thwack.
Oof, that's fucking painful! What strength…!
"An officer must be one who is always in agony, not a fool full of pretense. See you later. I'll have expectations, First Lieutenant."
Colonel Model said what he had to say and left.
…Good grief, this feels like getting an assignnt from a professor.
An assignnt in the middle of a battle is absolutely terrible, but I had no choice.
I will absolutely satisfy Colonel Model and get that General Staff recomndation!
-
July 10, 1937
Central Spain, Madrid, the Capital of Spain - Republican Command Headquarters Shouts were being exchanged at the Republican High Command.
"You're saying we can't break through?! We poured everything we had into this—the military force, the tanks, even the air force…"
"I told you it was too reckless an attack."
"Wait, weren't you the one who said this was the perfect opportunity?"
The Republican High Command, mostly composed of political soldiers, had been half in doubt at first when Líster's 11th Division captured Brunete within half a day of the battle starting.
This was because, even for an ambitious attack prepared by mobilizing all but the minimum military force needed to hold the Madrid defense line, it had been excessively successful.
So the High Command tried to check the situation for a mont, and that delay resulted in giving the Condor Legion ti to establish a defense line.
As a result, Colonel Juan Modesto's main attack, and particularly its spearhead, Líster's 11th Division, was taking imnse sacrifices by ramming into the Condor Legion, making their swift capture of Brunete aningless.
Colonel Jurado, leading the supporting attack, also launched a fierce assault on Carabanchel, but the Nationalist faction's Colonel Santes desperately held his ground and maintained the front line even with an inferior military force.
"Damn it! Aren't all of the Nationalist faction's air forces in the northern region! We gave them full air support in an empty sky, so why can't they push through!"
As a result of sending all the air force to quickly push Carabanchel, the main attack, which had been breaking through well, was blocked instead. General José Miaja, the person in charge of this operation, pounded his chest with his fist as if boiling with rage.
"E-excuse , General. Colonel Jurado has collapsed from heatstroke and is unable to command, so he requests a replacent commander."
"What, how does a colonel get heatstroke!"
It wasn't as if heatstroke avoided officers, but there was no way the High Command, holding a eting while enjoying the cool breeze of an air conditioner—still classified as an ultra-luxury item in this era—would know that.
"Groan…"
When General Miaja scanned the 'colonels', everyone had to avoid his gaze. Who would want to go outside in this heat, into that war situation?
"Colonel Casado, I'll entrust it to you."
"…Yes, sir."
The designated Colonel Casado was extrely reluctant, but when a superior officer gives an order, you just do as you're told.
"Don't go running around outside for no reason and get sick. A commander should just stay in the command post.
Heatstroke, honestly…"
The incompetent political general's remark made not only Colonel Casado but also the few officers with backgrounds as field commanders sigh, but General Miaja had already turned his gaze to the next victim.
"So, can you secure the Extremadura Road? We gave you so many tanks, don't tell
you can't break through?"
The next batter up, Colonel Juan Modesto, the commander of the main attack front, had to break out in a cold sweat despite the cool air conditioner breeze.
"Perhaps because those German bastards have introduced a new weapon, the breakthrough is more difficult than expected."
"New weapon?"
As General Miaja's expression crumpled, Colonel Modesto had no choice but to speak with a look of uncertainty.
"An anti-tank artillery… or, it seems they're using anti-tank shells for their artillery."
The faces of everyone in the High Command turned to 'What the hell is that,' but there was no other way to explain it.
An anti-tank gun's range is still 300m at most. But how else could you describe sothing that starts blowing up tanks from 2km away?
They would be clutching the back of their necks if they knew that incredible anti-tank weapon was the anti-aircraft gun they were all familiar with, but for them, it was difficult to understand an incident they were seeing for the first ti in their lives.
'Damn it, everyone will be in horror if I properly report the tank losses. What should I do.
'
When Líster, after taking Brunete, suddenly requested a detour, he had dismissed it imdiately without even reporting to his superiors, telling him not to speak nonsense.
But for that to return as such a disastrous result.
Colonel Modesto was filled with regret.
'No, why is that my fault? Even that Líster couldn't have imagined the enemy would prepare sothing like this.
'
He swallowed dryly. In any case, if he took the bla for this, his promotion to general would be gone forever.
If they lost the war, the governnt itself that would promote him to general would disappear, but at least for now, no one in this room was thinking that far ahead.
After all, they held Madrid and Valencia, Spain's largest cities, and were fighting with the support of the West and the Soviet Union.
On the other hand, Italy and Germany, who were helping the Nationalist faction, were inferior compared to the Western world or the Soviet Union.
Even though Italy was one of the Three Great Powers along with France and Britain, the common perception was that it couldn't compare to Britain and France, and the unseemly behavior shown by the Italian Army at the Battle of Guadalajara had put the Republican faction at ease.
And there was no need to even ntion Germany, whose military had been half-disintegrated by the Treaty of Versailles after their defeat in the World War, and had only recently begun its rearmant.
"Ahem, it seems Colonel Líster was caught off guard after easily taking Brunete and suffered a heavy blow. The enemy has a new weapon, but if we concentrate our air force, we should be able to break through with tanks leading the way."
"Groan… Is it difficult with just artillery?"
Even in World War II, combined arms cooperation between infantry, armor, artillery, and the air force was a basic necessity, not an option, but the situation for the Spanish Republican governnt was not so leisurely.
The number of fronts demanding attention was absurdly high, but their precious air power was always lacking.
"The flower of modern warfare is the air raid, is it not, haha… If you just provide support, I will commit the 15th Division and 34th Division as well to attempt a point breakthrough!"
The face of Colonel Casado, in charge of Carabanchel, crumpled, but Colonel Modesto looked away.
It wasn't that he didn't know the situation at Carabanchel, which was failing to break through even with air support, but Colonel Modesto was also desperate for support.
The artillery corps, which had opened the operation by annihilating the Brunete garrison with a concentrated bombardnt, had then thoughtlessly launched a preemptive bombardnt against the Condor Legion, only to suffer considerable damage from the enemy artillery's counter-battery fire.
As soone who had received Líster's loss report and submitted a drastically reduced version, he had no choice but to sohow make up for it.
Even if the units that existed on paper in the offensive plan were in reality maid and disabled.
"Hooo… Colonel Casado, what do you think?"
"In a situation where we can't break through even with bombing support, if the air force is withdrawn, the situation will beco more difficult, but…"
Colonel Casado's answer to General Miaja's question was ambiguous. But there was no way he could say anything more specific than that.
If he insisted he couldn't give up air support here, they would tell him to show results with it.
How could a colonel who had just been made a unit commander in this very eting and hadn't even grasped the unit's situation yet, assert anything with confidence?
At the very least, if he didn't argue strongly here, it would be possible to save face, considering he'd taken over the role midway, by pretending to subtly help the other side.
"We absolutely need air support!"
"Understood. I will send the entire air force your way."
"Thank you, General!"
His position, having to receive air support on top of a hoard of tanks and artillery, was humiliating, but the losses incurred so far would already be a severe blow to Colonel Modesto's position anyway.
'At this point, it's all or nothing. As long as I win, it's fine.
As long as I win!'
No matter how many soldiers died or tanks were lost, as long as there were visible results, he would have sothing to say for himself.
His calculation was that no matter how good the performance of the new anti-tank artillery the German military was using, in a situation where they had lost air superiority, their artillery wouldn't be able to conduct bombardnts at ease either.
"Well then, is there anything else to discuss?"
"They say the front is continuously complaining about a water shortage."
"Tsk, are we the only ones short on water? It's natural to be a little thirsty in the sumr."
The officer who shouted that had already half-emptied his water glass while eting in the conference room cooled by an air conditioner.
"It's already overwhelming just to supply ammunition and fuel to the armored units and the large-scale military force we've committed! Don't distract
with such trivial matters! What's important is the success or failure of this offensive!"
The eting ended like that.
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