by Tom Zola
Louis Ferdinand had been in London until four hours ago to discuss possible peace negotiations with the Allies.
"Especially the English and Russians," he began with resignation in his voice, "insist on the unconditional surrender. Then again this Hull guy..."
"...the American?"
"Right. Hull makes me feel like I can talk to him. I think the Americans can basically do without war with us."
Von Witzleben nodded slowly. You could see that several trains of thought arrived at his mind station. Deep wrinkles formed on his forehead. His fingers danced around on the tabletop.
"Now they know what they are up to," the Chancellor thought out loud. "I will convene the cabinet for Sunday. We must plan our future course in light of recent developments."
The coming together of the major warring nations could certainly have brought more hopeful results, but on the positive side, it had to be noted that the warring parties – after Hitler's secret negotiations with England in 1940 – spoke to each other again for the first time.
The door to von Witzleben's office was pushed open. An angry Ludwig Beck in a suit with a tie stormed in. Behind Beck was von Witzleben's young adjutant, whose face was a silent apology for not having been able to stop the President of the Reich. The Chancellor indicated to him that he should close the doors, while Beck already started to rage furiously: "I can no longer be made a puppet of warlords! I demand that you resume peace negotiations immediately!"
"If it were that simple," the Chancellor sighed and rose. Then he said: "Herr Reichspräsident..." He didn't get any further, because Beck interrupted him rudely. "Save your phrases. You brought me into this government last year under certain agreements..."
"And we kept them." Von Witzleben was irritated.
"You have been going on with this war for almost a year now – and apart from a few kilometers of terrain gain here and there, it has led nowhere. How long are your politics going to last?"
"As long as it's necessary."
"And then the bomb terror of the Americans and the British! Do you want to wait until the last German city has been wiped off the face of earth? How many Germans have lost their lives since last November just to push this pointless struggle forward? I don't want to start with Italy!"
"Don't worry, we won't lose Italy..."
Beck interrupted the Chancellor again: "No, we will lose THIS WAR! You must stop this madness instantly!"
Now Beck fell silent and waited for a reaction from his counterpart. Louis Ferdinand von Preussen felt as if he had been faded out of the scene.
"I would have expected more understanding of the strategic context from you in particular," von Witzleben replied calmly and licked his lips.
"Well, I'm curious," Beck responded while crossing his arms.
"We have used the year since Hitler's death solely to correct the mistakes made. The Führer had been so determined in his offensives against Stalingrad and the Caucasus that he did not want to hear how fatal his plans actually were. When we took over here, these offensives were in full swing and we had to make great efforts to prevent the total annihilation of Heeresgruppe Süd, because the enemy was already trying to block our troops’ way back. Against this background, our successes in Kursk and Tula are overwhelming."
"And how many lives did that cost? I ask you, how long do young Germans have to bleed and die in foreign countries because old men here in Berlin play their war games?"
"Please do not close your eyes to what we have achieved. The Eastern Front is stable again. Feldmarschall von Manstein has given us breathing space!"
"Then please negotiate the truce already! You can't fly to London and expect that you won't have to make any concessions to our opponents..."
"The Allies still insist on unconditional surrender. So it's our turn to convince them that the German Reich is not beatable."
"Aren't we beatable?"
"There will never be any concessions under my Chancellorship! I will not stand idly by as Stalin assimilates the East of our Reich and the Saarland and Alsace fall to France. Think about the Germans who live there!" Von Witzleben and Beck stared at each other like two cats of prey claiming the same territory.
"With each month, you just delay the inevitable." Beck's words now almost had a begging character. "The Russians have a sheer endless mass of soldiers and tanks, and the Americans are already in Italy. And don’t think I am stupid. It is all over town that France is the next target for Allied actions against us. Another front in the west would spell doom for our Reich. Do you want to wait until you can call out your claims to the Allies from your office window? STOP THIS MADNESS NOW!"
Von Witzleben twitched. "We will meet the enemy in France and defeat him there."
"Like we did in Italy?" For a moment, Beck had thus evoked a dead silence.
"Italy is a dead end," the Chancellor concluded eventually, "and once we have fended off an invasion in central Europe, we will have the Western powers off our backs. They won't dare a second time."
Beck's facial expression almost turned into insanity. The old general showed his teeth, then pressed his lips together as his visage filled with anger. Louis Ferdinand became scared at the sight, but Beck just shook his head.
"Pah!" he spat, "Warmongers! You're hardly any better than the Nazis! Just a bunch of warmongers!" And with these words he stomped out of the room, leaving behind him long moments of stillness. Von Witzleben and Louis Ferdinand looked at each other. Finally, the aristocrat broke the silence. "I heard about different invasion rumors: France, Norway, Denmark."
"We must assume that it will happen in France. Anything else would be unreasonable and would only bring the Allies another Italy, from where there is no way into the hearts of our Reich. If we reject the invasion in the West and let the Russians bleed to death in the East using von Manstein's backhand blow strategy, then the German Reich has a realistic chance," von Witzleben proclaimed in a thin voice. Tiredness seemed to have seized him.
"How sure are you about that?"
"We are at war, my friend. Nothing's for sure." A faint grin scurried across von Witzleben's face.
"I can only see that the Soviet Union and the USA are two far superior economies. The world war has already proved that these days final victory will be achieved by the one who has the most effective economy behind him, not the one with the best army."
"But the American is too busy with the Japanese to be able to focus all his attention on us. As you yourself said before, basically they don't want any war with us," the Chancellor interjected.
"What if Japan folds?"
"We must do everything we can to ensure that this does not happen. The Japanese are extremely important to us in two ways - not just because of the Americans. The Japanese also bind strong units of Soviet forces which otherwise would be used against us. So believe me, Japan's support has been high on my agenda since the beginning of my tenure."
"With all due respect, we lack the strength to support others."
"My good Herr von Preussen, without going into detail, I can assure you that we are already doing so."
Louis Ferdinand gazed at his counterpart with a questioning expression. The Chancellor explained briefly. "The Japanese are in the same boat as we are. Surrounded by our common enemies, cut off from important resources. If one goes down, the other goes down, for one alone is not equal to the concentrated power of our enemies."
"What are you implying?"
"Technology, material, education, knowledge. This is how I handle it with all our allies, and believe me, I am aware of the risks of this procedure. But at the moment every ally counts – and every ally must be strengthened wherever possible. Only Japan is a case in itself; our strongest ally, but unfortunately almost unattainable. We didn't start pulling the submarines out of the Atlantic theater for nothing."
"We pulled our submarines out of the Atlantic?"
Von Witzleben laughed up. "Apparently so discreet that even our own ministers didn't noti
ce it," he rejoiced.
Von Preussen, however, could not cheer, as he became aware of how much the Chancellor kept him on a short leash, how little he as Foreign Minister was actually involved in the business that Germany handled with its allies.
"But... England? We have to cut the island off from supplies."
The Chancellor shook his head firmly. "Take a look at how the figures have developed since the beginning of the year. The battle for the Atlantic has become futile, and I will not send our men on suicide missions anymore. We need our subs much more in European waters for the protection of the homeland – and for special assignments in the Pacific."
Aftermath
The year 1941 was in its final days. Private Tom Roebuck spent the evening with his wife Marie in their small flat under the pointed roof of an apartment building on the northern outskirts of San Diego, California. It would be their last night together before he had to leave. Their marriage was still fresh. They had met at the beginning of the year and got married in September. At that time the world was still in order – at least in the States. Since December 7th, however, everything was different. The USA had been surprisingly attacked by the Japanese. Immediately afterwards, Nazi Germany had declared war on America. Roebuck had received his marching orders. The Corps apparently wouldn't even allow him to celebrate New Year's Eve at home.
Drizzle sprinkled the windows. Gilded bells and colored glass balls adorned a small Christmas tree, which sat enthroned on the dining table. Marie, whose great-grandparents came from Austria, had drawn the curtains so that the neighbors of the opposite apartment could not watch her making love to her husband. Since Tom had return from his base, she seduced him at every opportunity, pampering him extensively with all the means at her disposal.
She would never admit that before him, but she was afraid that he would take an Asian woman as his lover in the Pacific, so she wanted to use the short time the Marine Corps allowed her to convince him of what he had in her.
Now both sat on the carpet in front of the sofa. Intertwined, they listened silently to faint jazz music coming from the radio. An evergreen by Benny Goodman was played. The refrain accompanied by the saxophone just filled the room with "He's not worth your tears." Minutes of silence passed. Marie got his scent up her nose, which she liked very much. She felt his deliberately-beating heart and his breathing. Very slowly, his chest rose and fell.
She had put her right hand on his thorax and let her fingers play around with the black hair Tom had there. The minute hand passed 10 pm. She sighed softly. He'd have to get on the train early in the morning. One more time she wanted to surrender herself to him that night. One more time. Her lips burned, but she was terribly afraid Tom might fall for the beguiling creature of an exotic Asian. At least that was how she imagined them. One more time she wanted to sleep with him.
"Marie," he whispered suddenly. His rough voice gave her name a special sound.
"Yes?" she breathed.
"Marie, honey." His eyes reminded her of a glass of milk. "You're the most wonderful woman a man could ever wish for." He smiled at her. Gentle and soft were the features around his mouth when he did that. Immediately, a tingling sensation set in in her belly. Marie smiled back, then sadness attacked her that deformed her facial features.
"Tomorrow you'll get on that train," she whispered in a trembling voice, "and then you'll be gone for so long. I could cry when I think about it."
She lowered her head, but Tom grabbed her chin and gently lifted her face until her eyes met. He always did that when she was sad.
She loved him.
"Next Christmas we'll be together again. The lieutenant colonel said the Japs can't stand a year against us."
"But then what? Then they'll send you to Europe!"
Tom laughed gently. "Little Marie." He pressed her head against his chest and kissed her temple. "Little Marie, you have no idea of the military, I find. You're overestimating the Germans. Look at the Great War. As soon as our boys landed in Europe, we crushed their ridiculous army."
She looked at him with wide eyes – expectant. Her lips shivered.
"Believe me, Hitler will go to hell before Tōjō," he assured her.
Acknowledgement
I would like to thank my father, who is my most productive supporter. My wife also deserves a special mention because she is the one who inspires me every day and makes me happy.
Once again I would like to thank my publisher Hansjoachim Bernt, whose commitment and constant criticism of my concepts and texts have made the Panzers series what it is.
In telephone conversations lasting hours, we played through all situations, discussed the advantages and disadvantages of a concept, and sometimes came to different conclusions. Often these conversations have drawn my attention to weaknesses in my ideas.
Of course, I would also like to thank Richard Moncure for his work on this text.
Note from Tom Zola
Dear readers,
while the book itself was edited by some true English experts, I wrote this small note myself. Since English is not my mother tongue, this note contains some weird Germanized grammar and sentences for sure. I suggest you read it in a strong German accent ??
I would like to take the chance to thank you for buying our book. The EK-2 Publishing Team put a lot of effort into the PANZERS series, especially was the translation one hell of a job. As said, we are glad to have real English experts on board (at this point I would like to gratefully thank Richard Moncure and Wendy Chan for their marvelous efforts and commitment!!!) Even for native speakers it is one heck of a task to work on a text that is full of technical terms and detailed military descriptions.
On the one hand you have ranks, German trivia and other national or regional specialties. Should we translate German nicknames like Stuka for the Junkers Ju 87 or should we leave it in its German form in the text? Almost from line to line we struggled with this very question and had to find a new answer to it each time.
When it comes to ranks, we did translate them to obtain a better reading experience, although in direct speech we sometimes kept original German or Russian ranks – that depends on the overall paragraph and how it would influence readability.
On the other hand, in the original text there are a lot of references to typical German trivia, which gave all of us a hard time translating them. Things like the military function of a "Kompanietruppführer" only exists in the German Army. There is no translation, no comparable function in other armed forces, and it even is very difficult to explain its meaning without a deep understanding of the functioning of the German military. So, what should we do with such things? How should we translate the text in a way that its originality does not get lost, but that it is at the same time fully understandable in English? Believe me, finding that balance is no easy task! I hope we have gotten most things right!
Our overall goal was to provide a very unique reading experience for English readers. This text is written by a former German soldier (me), it focuses on a German perspective and is very technical in its details. I often find posts and articles on the Internet that are about Germany or the German Army, written by foreigners in English, hilariously mistaking our very special little German idiosyncrasies (no accusation meant, I would struggle similarly trying to understand a culture I am a total stranger to). Thus, I hope it is interesting for you to read something from Germany that really tries to translate these idiosyncrasies correctly into English. Nevertheless we tried everything to preserve a special German touch. That is why we sometimes left a German word or phrase in the text. At the same time, we tried to ensure that English readers can understand everything without using a dictionary or Wehrmacht textbook from time to time and that the whole thing stays readable.
Another thing we did in order to manage this balancing act is that we separated German words for better readability and understanding although they are not separated originally. We Germans are infamous for our very long words like Bundeswehrstruktu
ranpassungsgesetz or Donau-Dampfschifffahrtsgesellschaft. In English words are separated way more often to keep them short. Germans say Armeekorps, English folks say army group. So for example we made Panzer Korps out of Panzerkorps in the text hoping that this will help you to read the book without stumbling too often.
The PANZERS series consists of 12 books, and I promise in book 12 I provide a satisfying ending. No cliffhangers!
Additionally, EK-2 Publishing holds a bunch of other German military literature licenses that we really would love to introduce to English readers. So, stay tuned for more to come! And please give us feedback on what you think about this book, our project and the EK-2 Publishing idea of bringing military literature from the motherland of military to English readers. Also let us know how we can improve the reading experience for you and how we managed the thin red line between readability and originality of the text.
We love to hear from you!!
[email protected]
(I am connected to this email address and will personally read and answer your mails!)
In the following I provide some additional information: a glossary of all words and specialist terms you may have stumbled upon while reading, an overview of Wehrmacht ranks, German military formation sizes and abbreviations. Since I wrote those glossaries myself, too, I recommend you keep the German accent …
Glossary
76-millimeters divisional gun M1942: Soviet field gun that produced a unique sound while firing, which consisted of some kind of hissing, followed by the detonation boom. Therefore the Germans Wehrmacht soldiers called it "Ratsch Bumm".
Abwehr: German Military Intelligence Service