by Tom Zola
Tom Zola
Panzers Book 2
Global Conflict
Tom Zola
Global Conflict
Tom Zola, a former sergeant in the German Army, is a military fiction writer, famous for his intense battle descriptions and realistic action scenes. In 2014, the first book of his PANZERS series was released in German, setting up an alternate history scenario in which a different German Reich tries to turn around the fortunes of war at the pinnacle of the Second World War. Zola doesn’t beat around the bush; his stories involve brutal fighting, inhuman ideologies, and a military machine that overruns Europe and the whole world without mercy. He has developed a breathtaking yet shocking alternate timeline that has finally been translated into English.
Zola, born in 1988, is married and lives with his wife and two kids in Duisburg, Germany.
Berlin, German Reich, May 28th, 1943
It was a stormy, rainy Friday night that snuffed out all thoughts of summer. Thick drops pelted the capital of the German Reich, which had been battered by the bombing, while a cool breeze blew through the streets and alleys. In the distance, the engines of English bomber units roared. Hundreds of airplanes swept across the south of Charlottenburg, dropping their deadly loads. The local anti-air guns barked everywhere. Projectiles soared into the sky, glowing. Isolated German fighter planes threw themselves protectively between Berlin and the enemy bomber formations. However, they had been doomed from the moment they ascended into the sky to attack the enemy.
The detonations echoed with a deep roar as far as Bellevue Palace, where Field Marshal Erwin von Witzleben, the Reich Chancellor of the German Reich, continued the government’s work despite the bombing raids. Only the Berlin district Tiergarten and the palace itself being bombed directly could have prompted von Witzleben to leave the imposing three-winged complex and get himself to safety.
The Chancellor sat in his office, a wood-paneled room that had enough space to fit an entire football team. Situation map after situation map, depicting the situation in France, Italy, on the Eastern Front, and in the Pacific were pinned on map stands. The Chancellor’s gaze wandered over the mock terrain spread out in front of him. For a fraction of a second, he was struck by all that had happened in about seven months of his tenure.
Hitler had left him quite a sticky situation.
In the first quarter of 1943, Field Marshal von Manstein, to whom von Witzleben had transferred all authority of the Eastern Front, achieved some surprising successes despite the spring mud period in the sectors of the Army Groups Center and North. The divisions operating in their areas of responsibility had been gradually revitalized by former SS men, who had been freed up following the dissolution of numerous concentration camps and the logistics these entailed. In addition, the troops of the Army Group South, like the battle-tested 24th Panzer Division, who were available because von Manstein had permitted them to conduct tactical withdrawals in certain sectors, had also taken part in von Manstein’s operations in the first quarter. By the end of February, the troops of the Commander-in-Chief East had worked their way up to Tula. However, fearing that they would be too worn out, von Manstein ordered them to stop. As March drew to a close, he came to the conclusion that the Wehrmacht was no longer prepared for an offensive this year. The Chancellor, however, had succeeded in convincing him to carry through with the controversial Operation Zitadelle, which ended with a small tactical success. The subsequent counter-offensives of the Russians, however, not only overran the German formations from Orel to Stalino but also reversed almost all the German successes achieved at the beginning of the year. Thousands of villages changed hands for the umpteenth time.
The roar of the bombardments in the distance invaded von Witzleben’s mind, ripping his thoughts to pieces and leaving him frantically scrambling for some semblance of order. The thundering and crashing of the bombs were a gruesome yet monotonously familiar background noise for the Chancellor. Even though every bomb that fell on a German city fueled impotent rage within him, there was nothing left for him to do besides sitting idly by as it continued. The Luftwaffe, emaciated by four years of war and constrained by a shortage of personnel and materials, only had a few fighters to oppose the Allied bombing raids. So these days, Allied aircrafts flew through German airspace as they liked. Von Witzleben had had countless conversations with Erhard Milch, the Commander-in-Chief of the German air forces, but they had always come to the same sobering conclusion: the Reich was nearly powerless in the face of terror-bombing. The enemy called it “strategic bombing” because they aimed at annihilating Germany's economic abilities to produce and transport weapons and other materiel for the theaters of military operations, but for the Germans, and especially for the civilian population, it was the incarnation of their darkest dreams. These days, one could witness 1000-year-old German cities fall into ruins within hours – the devastation the Germans had unleashed upon other nations finally had followed them home.
On an intimate, personal level, Chancellor von Witzleben experienced first-hand the suffering created in Berlin by the bombing terror: Women who dragged dead children from ruins. Boys and girls who lacked legs or arms, or whose faces were burned beyond recognition. Once, his whole body had begun shaking uncontrollably when his aide had driven him through Schoenefeld, shortly after the district had become the victim of a major attack. What the enemy did to the cities – to the people – of Germany left the Reich Chancellor speechless and stunned. But von Witzleben also was well-aware of the deep contradiction of his feelings: he was the Chancellor of the German Reich, and held sole leadership over his nation according to the laws created by his people. A single word and a single document alone would it cost him, and the bombardments would be ended within days. But he did not give this word, nor did he draw up this document, for von Witzleben was convinced that these sacrifices of the German people were the only way to save the Reich into the future – for the unconditional surrender demanded by the united front of Germany's enemies would mean the end of the German nation. The Reich Chancellor could not accept this, so the war had to go on.
He was also aware of the other side of the coin: Germany had started this war, during which the German and British Air Forces had begun to attack each other's cities. Moreover, the bombing of the civilian population was a cruel but legitimate means, in von Witzleben's eyes, to bring the enemy to his knees. The wars of the 20th century were more total and cruel than anything ever before due to the advanced industrialization, and therefore they had to be fought in the same way and on all conceivable levels.
German bombing raids against English cities were not occurring at present, but not because the Chancellor was too good-natured for such methods. Even von Witzleben would again command attacks against enemy cities if the Luftwaffe were able to do so. And should these miraculous rockets, whose inaccuracy made it difficult to engage military targets, be ready for action next year, von Witzleben would not hesitate to let them rain down on enemy cities. Then English women and children would die at his command. It was a hard time, the Reich Chancellor knew that. The wars of the 20th century did not allow uninvolved people anymore. Either you were for one side – or you were against it. Von Witzleben didn't have to like this order and these rules, but he was realistic enough to see that they existed; that the cruel game that mankind had christened "war" worked that way.
But, as he well knew, the German Reich was currently on the receiving end of aerial warfare. There was nothing the Chancellor could have done about it. So von Witzleben continued to work, while elsewhere in Berlin bombs rained from the sky, buildings collapsed, and people died. Work was von Witzleben's nostrum. The old Chancellor, who had hardly slept a night since he seized power, had deep rings under his eyes. Work determined his lif
e. He coordinated politics, the economy, and the military. He traveled around to the hot spots and the most important armament factories. He spoke with the leading industrialists of the Reich, the Porsches and the Krupps; he spoke with the field marshals and generals; he spoke with his ministers and the members of the Reichstag, even if they actually had nothing to report. Beck even wanted to eliminate the elective component of the state, but von Witzleben finally decided against it, although he was certainly not a democrat either. But the Reich Chancellor was of the opinion that Germans should not be expected to tolerate too many changes at once, and so the farce of the Reichstag continued in the German Reich for the time being.
Altogether, all this led to von Witzleben having countless conversations every day; he coordinated, he directed, he supervised the government; he made decisions. Above all, he had to correct Hitler's innumerable mistakes. The economy, for example, was no longer allowed to continue to act as if everything was going smoothly. Germany could not afford to produce luxury goods anymore. Everything had to be focused on fighting the war.
And there was now a pressing matter of economic and military importance to be resolved. Two men stood at the Reich Chancellor's table, on which they had unloaded a whole heap of documents and workbooks. They argued loudly about the future course of action. The two squabblers were Albert Speer, Reich Minister for Production and Armament, and Field Marshal Heinz Guderian, Chief of the Waffenamt, the German Army Weapons Agency. Both had the task of co-operating on all matters of armament and maximizing the production of war-critical materiel. Both were disputatious figures within the government.
Von Witzleben looked up with tired eyes and sighed at the two men, who like roosters puffed themselves up and punctuated their arguments with dramatic gestures, each trying to dominate the dispute.
"The development phases for all projects have been underway for a long time – some of them have already been completed. With some models, we are close to series maturity. What you are demanding is an unparalleled waste, and singularly mad!" Speer spat towards his opponent, before continuing somewhat more calmly: "Heinz, nobody understands more about tanks than you, but also consider one thing: nobody understands more about the organization of the industry than I do. So believe me when I tell you that the costs of abandoning such far-advanced projects is not acceptable."
Von Witzleben sighed again. As one of Hitler's closest confidants, Speer had been a hard sell for some members of the new government. In the end, however, two arguments were put forward which had allowed his appointment: On the one hand, after the death of the Führer, one could not simply pretend that Nazi rule had never existed, even if some would like to.
But also, the German Reich was dependent on stability in war days like these, and this could only be achieved if all the incumbents were brought on board the new regime, including all the Nazis and party friends. Speer was therefore a good candidate for a government post because, as a former minister under Hitler, he symbolized a certain continuity between the two governments but at the same time was not too fanatical a National Socialist. His professional accomplishment had always been more important to him than ideology.
On the other hand, however, Speer was also simply damn good in his field: As a long-time participant in the armament industry of the Reich, he knew all the important eggheads and managers in the industry, kept a corresponding address book, and also had unmatched organizational talent. Nobody else was able to use resources as well and efficiently as he could.
He also utilized forced laborers and prisoners of war, but that was a course supported by the von Witzleben government. And that was exactly what the Chancellor appreciated about Speer: he was – if it was absolutely necessary – an unscrupulous man, and was thus in no way inferior to the old NS important figures. Even though most of the Nazis had been disposed of, in some areas one simply needed a pit bull in these desperate times – and this pit bull could be a sharp blade in a fight. The war finally had to be waged to the extreme.
Without the use of "involuntary resources," the required armaments could not have been produced to this extent at all, and even now the German Reich could not keep up with either the Soviet Union's or the USA's production – and both were Germany's war opponents!
The situation was therefore extremely dangerous, and so the question of whether or not it was reprehensible to use prisoners of war and other involuntary workers in the armaments industry, in contravention of international law, quickly became superfluous. At the moment, Germany simply could not afford to be one of the good guys.
As von Witzleben reflected on all this, both of the brawlers in front of him stared at each other with an evil eye. Guderian inhaled loudly while the anger flooded his face. If von Witzleben were not so unspeakably tired, he would be amused by the ruffled fur of the Panzers man. But the Chancellor's work of the last few months and also his trip to Russia, from which he had only returned the previous day, had left him bone-weary.
Guderian was also a contentious man in the circle of the government. Although many people held his open resistance to crazy orders in Hitler's day in high esteem, they also feared his unpredictability, his technical expertise, and his urge for self-aggrandizement. As driven and capable a military and tank expert as he was, the man was often exhausting to work with.
"Albert," Guderian began, and at 6'3" with the flashing Knight’s Cross on his collar, he towered threateningly in front of the minister, "these things you want to build are a joke. They're not tanks, they're static fortresses. You're a hundred years late with that."
"I expressly resent you defaming the years of work of the best engineers in our country! The new tanks will move very well - and not only that, they will smash the enemy!"
Guderian forced a laugh at Speer's statement, then his face was distorted when he raved. "This shows that you are an architect at heart, and not a soldier. With all due respect, Albert, let me tell you, these devices are unfit. You get me? That's not just my opinion! Erwin Rommel, von Manstein, yes, any officer with military brains in his head, they'll all tell you the same thing."
Von Witzleben nearly daydreamed. Yes, the discussion taking place here was important and serious, but he simply could not follow it any longer. In the end, he would listen to the military arguments and follow his instinct, which was by now headed in a clear direction. Meanwhile, his gaze wandered across all the folders of documents and sketches lying on his desk. "Tiger II" was written on one cover page. He wrinkled his nose.
Tiger II … that reeks of the Führer, and lo and behold, as soon as he came to his mind, Speer spoke about him. "The Führer himself commissioned these projects. He had the foresight, years ago, to realize what we would need these days!"
Now von Witzleben had to grin. That was really the wrong argument to use, if you wanted to impress one Heinz Guderian – and Speer should have known better, too. Guderian immediately spat symbolically and mocked him: "I don't give a damn what Adolf ordered ..."
Speer was visibly offended by this, and immediately riposted. "Our inspired leader made Germany strong again, so have a modicum of respect! He swept away the French and the English, and made it possible for us to accomplish what nobody could do in 1914. He did … "
So many different emotions flashed over Guderian's face that von Witzleben could no longer sort them all out.
"Albert!" he roared with a threatening index finger. "Don't give me the GröFaZ again. If you claim one more time that our Adolf won any battles, I see myself forced to punch you in the face!"
Old warhorse, von Witzleben thought, but he's right! Speer, however, now made a face as if the love of his life had tossed him into the trash.
"You've been sitting in front of the Volksempfänger for too long," Guderian continued. "Jawohl, of course the Führer rode a white horse at the head of our divisions – in 1940 – and led our panzers straight into Paris!" He imitated Goebbels’ voice while spreading his arms gloatingly. Speer shook his head.
"I'll give it to
you straight, Albert, and please let an old panzers man tell you what he knows: These things are junk." Guderian now lifted up a whole armful of folders, and took one after the other from it: "Tiger II?" He laughed uproariously. "I beg you! We can talk about that in ten years, when the Tiger I finally works!" And zap, the file landed on the floor. "Panzer Maus? And it even comes in two different versions from two different corporations? I hope you'll also build a tractor that can haul the monster up to within combat range of the enemy tanks! Or should we just lay rails in front of enemy positions?" The Panzer Maus folder also landed on the ground.
"VK4502-P? So Porsche is tinkering with multiple mechanical failures in one design? Beautiful!" The next folder landed on the ground. "And here, this Leopard! Too slow for a reconnaissance vehicle, too weak for a tank! Besides, we're just getting started producing the 234. Why the hell is its successor being developed, without us having gathered any front experience with the 234 model?" Another folder went down. "Then this whole E-series! What is the purpose of this? Either they are super heavy monster tanks, so you need ten trucks in order for them to move at all, or they should already be the successors of models that have just reached maturity phase." A few more folders landed on the floor.
"My aim is to standardize production processes, and utilize as many common components as possible," Speer said in a thin voice.
"And what is this, please?" Guderian held the last two folders directly under Speer's nose. "P-series"?
Speer wanted to defend himself, but Guderian did not give him the opportunity, he just barreled on: "Panzer Ratte? A land cruiser? What's all this nonsense about? 69 meters in length and 1,000 tons in weight? What's that?"
"I had the P-series discontinued earlier this year. I have enclosed the development folders only for the sake of completeness."