Chapter 199 |
< World War II - The Choice (3) >
May 31, 1941
Central Netherlands, near Utrecht – Doorn House
Wilhelm II was already perceived in Germany as the main culprit for the defeat in the last great war, and on top of that, he had been denying the legitimacy of Emperor Wilhelm III and the German government formed by the people.
The incident where Wilhelm II threw a wine glass during his conversation with Erich Kordt sent his already poor reputation plummeting to rock bottom.
This is why Emperor Wilhelm III, the nominal head of state, cannot easily travel to the Netherlands.
But it is difficult as a human being to turn a blind eye when a father is dying and asking for his son and Chancellor, so I came in his stead.
“Welcome, Minister. Welcome to the Netherlands.”
“Thank you for such a warm welcome, Minister.”
“We regret the incident that occurred during Foreign Minister Erich Kordt’s visit.”
“Haha, not at all.
We understand Germany’s position well.”
After asking Kordt to handle things well, only for Wilhelm II to cause another scene, the Netherlands naturally complained to our government, and we showed our sincerity by handing over ten Bf109 fighters and ten Panzer IV tanks each under the pretext of supporting our ally's war effort.
Naturally, the Netherlands’ dissatisfaction vanished, but now I’m the one who has to deal with this troublemaker…
“Minister, I know you are busy, but since you are visiting the Netherlands, would you not like to meet the Prime Minister before you leave? If you let us know a convenient time, we will arrange it.”
When Kordt visited, only Foreign Minister Eelco van Kleffens came out, but now the Prime Minister of the Netherlands, Dirk Jan de Geer, I see.
It suddenly occurs to me that from their perspective, I might still be Germany’s Vice-Chancellor, but if they want to consult about the war, I am indeed the right person…
“Very well. I will meet with His Majesty the Former Emperor first and then let you know my schedule.”
“Thank you. The Prime Minister will be delighted.
Ahem, one must hope there will be no problems this time.”
I gave an awkward smile at his concern, which carried various meanings.
“I hope so, too.”
-
Doorn House, the castle in the Netherlands purchased by Wilhelm II after he was exiled from Germany.
Like the one belonging to Lord von Kleist-Schmenzin that I visited when I first made contact with the Black Orchestra, it looked more like a giant mansion than a castle as one would think of it in modern times.
Seeing the guards and the Chamberlain in attire reminiscent of the World War I era, as well as the interior, I felt as if a part of the German Empire remained intact.
Even at this moment, with World War II in full swing, this place alone remains stagnant in that era.
A man who was the very symbol of the title ‘Kaiser,’ famous for his mustache.
Though he was treated as the cause of the defeat in World War I and indeed made poor decisions at the start of the war, he was in reality a figurehead who was merely being played by the already rampaging military.
A man who, despite being dethroned and exiled, could not forget the past and dreamed of the revival of the Empire, refusing to acknowledge his son's resurrected empire as a constitutional monarchy and insisting on his own claim to the throne.
A relic of a bygone era who does not acknowledge the Germany that has risen again through democracy.
“His Majesty the Emperor.
Vice-Chancellor Dietrich Schacht of the Fourth German Reich has come to visit.”
I didn't know where to even begin pointing out the problems, but I decided not to waste energy on trivial matters before my already-tiring conversation with the Kaiser.
No answer came from within the room.
But the Chamberlain, as if accustomed to it, bowed respectfully and spoke.
“You may enter. …Pardon my impertinence, but I must ask you to refrain from any statements that might provoke His Majesty.”
I nodded, took a deep breath inwardly, and braced myself to swiftly dodge any flying wine glasses as I stepped inside.
But upon entering the room, I realized it was all a meaningless gesture.
Despite it being broad daylight, the room, with all its curtains drawn, was dark.
An obscurity like night enveloped the entire room, save for the light of flickering candles.
In the middle of the room stood a large bed, surrounded by candlesticks as if guarding it.
I met the eyes of the physician standing beside it, then slowly approached the bed.
The man who once had the spirit to raise Germany into an Empire that would surpass the British Empire lay on the bed, a shrunken figure.
I felt the illusion of death’s aura, scattered by his visible illness, touching my skin.
“…Are you the Crown Prince’s Chancellor?”
The voice of the Emperor who once commanded the German Empire was small and weak.
To this man, his son was the Crown Prince, not the Emperor, and any explanation that I was the Vice-Chancellor and had now stepped down would be worthless.
“Yes, Your Majesty, the Former Emperor.”
Wilhelm II did not react to the title of Former Emperor, but instead let out a sigh with a face steeped in fatigue.
“…Is the Crown Prince not coming?”
“That is correct, Your Majesty, the Former Emperor.”
He didn't seem terribly disappointed.
I don't know what he was thinking when he claimed the throne, but perhaps he had a better grasp of reality than I thought.
“Can… I not return to Germany?”
The condition Germany had set for allowing his return.
To acknowledge the accession of the Crown Prince, no, Emperor Wilhelm III, and to not act against parliamentary democracy.
Wilhelm II had refused that condition.
“Your Majesty, the Former Emperor. The imperial system has been restored, but the era and Germany have changed.”
Wilhelm said nothing.
After a brief silence, Wilhelm, even in this situation, slowly raised his right arm instead of the left arm hidden under the blanket and gestured to his physician.
The physician retreated without a word, approached me, and whispered softly.
“Please avoid speaking for too long or making any provoking statements.”
When I nodded, the physician immediately turned and left.
The sound of the physician closing the door was by no means loud, but in the dark and silent room, it echoed with particular clarity.
Silence fell.
As the long, long silence stretched on, the fact that Wilhelm II's eyes were watching me was the only thing that told me he was awake.
“The Hohenzollern is a great family.”
He didn't seem to be seeking an answer.
I remained silent.
“The German Empire was also great.”
Wilhelm II was no longer looking at me, but at the ceiling.
After another long period of quiet, Wilhelm II finally sought an answer from me.
“Chancellor, what do you think of Bismarck?”
Bismarck. Otto von Bismarck.
The Chancellor who served Wilhelm II's grandfather and led the Kingdom of Prussia. The politician who defeated Austria and France with the Kingdom of Prussia and created the German Empire.
And the man whom Wilhelm II himself had driven out.
“He was a patriot.”
At my answer, Wilhelm II let out a low laugh.
A dry, weak laughter echoed.
“Are you a patriot?”
A patriot.
I had a feeling that his definition of a patriot was different from mine.
“No, Your Majesty, the Former Emperor.”
Wilhelm II laughed again.
“In that case, are you a loyal subject of the Crown Prince?”
“That, either, I am not, Your Majesty, the Former Emperor.”
Wilhelm II finally burst out laughing, then started coughing violently.
I immediately grabbed the water glass from the table by his head and brought it close to his lips.
He struggled to even lean his body with my help to drink the water I brought right next to him.
“Cough, cough, ahem…”
After drinking the water and regaining his composure, he lay back down on the bed.
I, too, placed the water glass back on the table.
When another period of silence had passed, Wilhelm II opened his mouth.
“The ones who swore patriotism and loyalty to me drove me out.”
I did not answer.
He ultimately fails to understand why he was driven out.
“…A Chancellor who is neither a patriot nor a loyal subject has helped the Crown Prince achieve what I could not.”
That was not something Wilhelm III did.
Nor was it something I did.
It was something done by a Germany that had begun to move on its own, not a Germany that followed the lead from above.
That, too, would be something he could not understand.
“Even if I had been the Emperor instead of the Crown Prince, could you have achieved such a great feat?”
I did not answer.
The Emperor did not seem to expect an answer either.
After a long silence, Wilhelm II opened his mouth.
“…I am tired. You may leave.
I shall call for you again.”
I paid my respects to him and withdrew.
Now that the Hohenzollern dynasty has been restored and the entire imperial family has returned to Germany, there is no one by the side of Wilhelm II, who denies that very family.
The frail old man, occupying a large room and a wide bed all by himself, looked utterly lonely.
-
June 1, 1941
Amsterdam, Capital of the Netherlands
I spent a rather meaningful time in the Netherlands.
I discussed the current situation on the Eastern Front and the possibility of dispatching the navy to the Asian Front with Prime Minister de Geer of the Netherlands, and I reviewed the Dutch Army.
After that, I've even come to the palace.
“Hahaha, so the operation to bury the Italian Army in a rain of shells and bombs came from your head?”
Queen Wilhelmina, who had invited me for teatime, said with a cheerful laugh.
She was a spirited person, belying her age. Though she did seem to dislike Parliament and democracy a little…
“It was one of the means to reduce sacrifices.”
No, why on earth is my image increasingly becoming that of a warmonger…
“Well, it must have been effective.”
The Queen gave a smile that was somehow reminiscent of a mischievous boy, unfitting for her age, then quickly composed her expression.
“The so-called politicians in Parliament wish for me to stay out of the war, show a healthy face, and demurely guard the palace.”
She looked at me intently and asked.
“But I don't like that. What do you think?”
This is a bit of a difficult question…
When I didn't answer right away, Queen Wilhelmina chuckled.
“My, it seems I've asked my young titan too difficult a question. I know full well that you are also one who advocated for a constitutional monarchy.
…Still, I'd like to ask out of an old woman's concern, Minister.”
“Please speak, Your Majesty.”
“We may not be a full party to the French campaign, but we have fulfilled our due obligations as one of the Allied Powers. France’s reparations went entirely into Germany’s hands.”
During Operation Winter Storm, it wasn't just General Model's army that had to endure sacrifices.
“I am well aware, Your Majesty.”
“Our country is currently focused on the Eastern Front, but may I trust that when it has the capacity, Germany will provide a fitting reward for the blood the Netherlands has shed?”
And the Netherlands is engaged in combat with Britain on the Asian Front, but the situation is not favorable.
The fleets of Britain and the Netherlands had several auxiliary ships sunk in a skirmish with Japan and had to retreat, losing face without any results.
I gave Queen Wilhelmina a slight smile and a small bow.
“Of course, Your Majesty.
As Germany’s Minister of Defense, I will take the appropriate measures, and Prime Minister Heuss is of the same mind.”
Only then did Queen Wilhelmina smile with satisfaction.
“Now I feel a little more at ease. It was an interesting talk, Minister.
Thank you for keeping an old woman company.”
“It was my honor to meet the spiritual pillar of the Netherlands, Your Majesty.”
Wilhelmina replied with a broad smile.
“Are you not the spiritual pillar of the Allied Powers yourself?”
“That is too high a praise, Your Majesty.”
“I'm not joking, but I feel I've taken up too much of my precious time. You may withdraw now.”
“Then, I shall.”
I escaped from the queen, who somehow reminded me of a slightly more good-natured Wilhelm III, and traveled through the streets of Amsterdam by car.
Royalty has a certain unique atmosphere about them that makes them strangely tiring to deal with.
The residents on the streets of Amsterdam are strolling with peaceful faces, even amidst the war.
Arthur Seyss-Inquart, who would have spread terror in these streets under Nazi rule, died in Austria.
As I was leisurely looking out the window of the moving car, I spotted a notable person.
“Please stop the car.”
“Y-Yes?”
My aide and driver, Mr.
Berger, was flustered, but as soon as the car stopped, I got out and looked at a girl with a familiar face, whom I was seeing for the first time.
She looked to be in her early teens.
She was looking out at the street from a second-story window, writing something in a notebook in her hand, and when our eyes met, she giggled and waved.
A girl who died in a Nazi extermination camp but left behind a posthumous work, Anne's Diary, becoming so famous that even the modern me knew her face.
Seeing a person I had only seen in black and white photographs moving and alive is always a strange experience.
“Anne, it’s dangerous to lean out like that!”
“Okay, Papa.”
That too was brief, as Anne Frank was called by her father and went back inside the house.
Was her dream to be a writer, or a journalist?
Laughter trickled out from the open window of the house she had gone into.
I chuckled and got back into the car.
If her work comes out, should I buy it?
-
Wilhelm II did not call for me after that, but I remained on standby in the Netherlands.
And on Monday, June 2nd, as rain fell, an urgent summons finally came.
Tossing aside all previous etiquette, I followed the frantically running Chamberlain into the bedroom, where Wilhelm II was shaking all over.
The physician saw me and shook his head.
Wilhelm II seemed disoriented, but when he saw me, he beckoned to me.
As I approached the bed, Wilhelm II, though gasping for breath, asked.
“T-The, Crown Prince, the Crown Prince…?”
There was not a shred of expectation in his eyes.
This question was closer to obsession than expectation.
“His Majesty the Emperor has given Your Majesty, the Former Emperor, the right to choose.”
Wilhelm II couldn't say a word.
Tears streamed down his cheeks.
“T-The, Emperor, the Emperor…”
What meaning did the title of Kaiser hold for him?
“Of the German, Empire…”
What was Germany to him?
“I am. Cough.
Of the Hohenzollern…”
He continued speaking, coughing and shedding tears.
“…a failure.”
Wilhelm II sobbed, then instead of his frantically trembling right hand, he reached out with his left hand, which he had kept hidden under the bed until now, and grabbed my arm.
There was no strength at all in the small arm, withered due to his disability, but it did not tremble.
“I, I. wanted to make things right.
Again, the great…”
He couldn't finish his sentence, coughed, and shed tears.
“T-To, Germany, to Germany…”
He was almost begging.
The physician and the Chamberlain also looked at me with what was almost a plea.
Instead of explaining the situation or giving him the answer he wanted, I answered simply.
“You must choose, Your Majesty, the Former Emperor.”
Wilhelm II burst into tears.
He sobbed while his whole body trembled, and finally, he opened his mouth.
“I-I.
Acknowledge the accession of Wilhelm III, and, cough, acknowledge the German government.”
Having finished those words, Wilhelm II passed out.
We frantically requested a car from the Dutch government, sent a telegram to our home country in Germany, moved Wilhelm II to the car, and then set off for Germany.
Fearing the pouring rain might drench Wilhelm II and worsen his health, all the chamberlains who had cared for him rushed to cover him with their bodies and with umbrellas.
It is sad that not a single one of them could be a person to whom Wilhelm II could confide his inner thoughts as an equal human being.
The Chamberlain, the physician, and I rode in the car together, staying by his side.
Wilhelm II opened his eyes when we were well on our way to Germany, having departed from near Utrecht, passed through Arnhem, and were driving along the road.
His body no longer trembles.
But his eyes have no focus.
With his gaze fixed on the empty air, he slowly opened his mouth.
“My son… is he?”
“…He is rushing to greet Your Majesty.”
At the Chamberlain’s answer, Wilhelm II stared blankly into space.
Only the noise from the car, cutting through the pouring rain, tickled my ears.
I glanced outside.
Still in the Netherlands.
A moment later, Wilhelm II opened his mouth with difficulty.
“Have I, return…ed?”
A brief silence fell.
As neither the Chamberlain nor the physician could answer, it was I who finally did.
“…Yes, Your Majesty. You have returned to Germany.”
“Ah, ahh…”
Tears streamed down Wilhelm II’s cheeks.
“…Bismarck…”
Whispering softly, Wilhelm II, his face streaked with tears, closed his eyes with a look of relief.
He fell into a sleep from which he could not wake, with the German border just in sight.