Chapter 202 |
< World War II - Turning Point (2) >
June 17, 1941
Northwestern Germany, Weser-Ems – Wilhelmshaven Naval Port
“Hmm. It’s still uncomfortable, but it’s definitely better than before.”
I said, hunched over as I walked through the interior of the first prototype of the Type XXI U-boat to be produced.
“Indeed, Minister.
This is all thanks to you for persuading the superiors to provide generous investment.”
“Haha…”
I let out an awkward laugh at the words of Admiral Dönitz, who was personally guiding me through the new U-boat.
While not quite as flamboyant, he was certainly an anomaly in the Navy, which considers a dignified and imposing demeanor a virtue.
“Installing an air conditioner was an excellent choice. Without this, the crew would have suffered terribly in the hot summer.”
“That’s right. It’s why everyone is dying to get on one of these Type XXIs.”
Still, seeing the broad smile blooming on Admiral Dönitz’s face, I didn’t feel bad.
I had been puzzled when I first said I wanted to inspect the U-boat's interior myself.
I expected Dönitz to be moved, but he had been hesitant, saying I didn't need to go that far.
The environment inside the U-boat I entered was so awful that I couldn't help but wonder how anyone could conduct an operation in it.
We took the Type XXI U-boat, which had existed as a paper plan, and improved and produced it with the combined purpose of fighting Japan in the Pacific.
“This Type XXI is fundamentally designed for submerged navigation… at higher speeds than its predecessors… its armament is improved over the original…”
“Excellent.”
Admiral Dönitz chattered on excitedly, and I gave him perfunctory responses, letting most of it go in one ear and out the other.
Honestly, as a non-expert, I didn’t really know what he was talking about, but I could tell it was a revolutionary improvement.
What does a politician care about the specifications and stats of a weapon? I just need to know its purpose and utility and leave the rest to the experts.
“In any case, there are no more missions for the U-boats in the Baltic Theater, Minister.
The Reichsmarine also agrees with the dispatch to the Asian Front as you mentioned.”
The Baltic Sea itself, being shallow and dotted with archipelagos and fjords, is not a good place for submarines to operate.
With no transport ships, the submarine's greatest prey, traversing the area, the U-boats have nothing to do against the Soviet Union.
“Yes, Admiral.
Our friends in the Soviet Union don't conduct any import or export through the Baltic or North Seas. We can't let our U-boats sit idle.”
So, we decided to send a wolf pack to the Empire of Japan, which was likely enjoying itself after occupying the Southern Resource Area.
Britain and the Netherlands, who had lost face due to the might of the Imperial Japanese Navy in the initial phase of the war, were whining for any help they could get.
This was just a way of utilizing the cards we had.
As long as we were dealing with the Soviet Union, dispatching the Army or Air Force was out of the question.
This should be enough of a return for the promise I made to Queen Wilhelmina.
Admiral Dönitz gave a strangely wicked-looking smile.
“It already brings me joy to think of our idle wolves howling with excitement.”
“Teach them a lesson, Admiral.
Teach them that simply mining resources isn't everything.”
What’s the point of having the Southern Resource Area if you can’t bring the resources back to the home country? It’s all for nothing.
“Of course, Minister! I will not disappoint your expectations!”
We looked at each other, smiled, and shook hands.
…This is all well and good, but we're sounding more and more like the villains.
-
June 21, 1941
Outskirts of Washington, D.C.
, capital of America
The midsummer sky was high.
The sky, not yet fully stained by industrialization, was clear and blue, with white clouds drifting leisurely—a beautiful scene.
But the scene unfolding beneath that beautiful sky was far from tranquil.
Although the scale of protests had shrunk as America began to recover from the aftermath of the Great Depression, when those incited by the Workers Party of the United States and engrossed in its ideology, who had been protesting across the country, gathered in one place, the scale was immense.
A tremendous crowd had gathered in the very same place where the Hoover administration had suppressed the Bonus Army.
Trotsky and Abern were overjoyed at the larger-than-expected crowd.
The plan was to slowly build the atmosphere through the protest, mix agent provocateurs into the crowd, and when the police appeared, provoke a bloody incident to agitate the protestors. Then, they would spread propaganda that the government was trying to repeat the Bonus Army incident, escalating the protest.
It was a very crude plan, but those gathered here were already expressing a degree of sympathy for Bolshevism-Leninism.
Trotsky, who had the experience of forging the Red Army out of a ragtag mob that could hardly be called an army, was reasonably confident.
Besides, the Republican administration had the experience of having their entire government shattered when they suppressed the Bonus Army incident with force.
Given that those people had bungled their response to the Bonus Army protest for over a month, Trotsky judged that the possibility of them deploying the military was almost zero.
However, that was a grave miscalculation.
[Disperse immediately! If you fail to comply, we will use force! I repeat! Disperse immediately! If you fail to comply, we will use force!]
The protestors, who had gathered simply because they were devoted to the plausible-sounding incitement of the Workers Party of the United States, could not hide their fluster as the United States Army blocked their path.
The might of the regular army, complete with infantry, cavalry, and even Stuart tanks, overwhelmed them.
“T-Teacher.
What do we do?”
Trotsky had not anticipated this turn of events at all.
How could they react so resolutely and so swiftly, having already experienced the Bonus Army incident once?
“Should we disperse for now?”
“…”
“Teacher!”
At Abern’s shout, Trotsky bit his lip.
This was a last, desperate attempt, made as the scale of the protests and the number of supporters dwindled daily.
But what if they were forced to disperse without achieving anything? Then this would be the end for them.
-
“G-General, sir. Are we really doing this?”
The officer had confidently relayed the warning to the protestors with a loudspeaker, but when the crowd did not disperse as expected, he timidly asked his superior.
But his superior, a man with a Major General’s rank insignia, suddenly screamed at him.
“What do you think, you idiot! Is that thing on your shoulders a head or just a goddamn paperweight?! Don't you have the first goddamn clue what a military order is?!”
“N-No, sir! B-But they’re civil-”
“Whether they're civilians or commies, that's not what's important!”
“Sir, yes?”
The officer was flustered, but the Major General declared with absolute confidence.
“The superiors ordered their dispersal! We notified them to disperse! And they are not dispersing, which means they are the enemy! An enemy we must disperse! That is the only fact you need to cram into that thick skull of yours! It’s utterly deplorable that a man like you, who can't even reach such a simple conclusion, could have been commissioned as an officer!”
“But General, the Bonus…”
The officer about to speak remembered that this man was the very person who had commanded the crackdown during the Bonus Army incident, and the only lunatic in a US Army that flinched at its memory who would volunteer for such a mission, so he shut his mouth.
But the other man did not let him off just because he fell silent.
“You can’t do it? Then you’re a worthless coward who has forsaken his duty to the proud US Army. I’ll strip you of your rank myself! Get the hell home and go cry clinging to your mommy’s skirt! Is that what you want?”
“N-No, sir!”
“Look at that, the maggot finally became a man! Now get back to your position and do your damn job, now! The government gave the order, and you lot are just the hands and feet to carry it out! Thinking and taking responsibility is a privilege granted to this son of a bitch named George S.
Patton! It's not a domain a mere field officer like you dares to trespass upon!”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
Seeing the terrified officer run back to his position, Patton looked at the protestors in the distance, confused and in a panic, and spat on the ground.
But the United States Army’s advance did not happen.
The crowd of protestors parted, and an old man with grizzled white hair stepped forward.
Patton watched the scene and flashed a devilish smile.
“I don’t know if he’s a commie or what, but he’s a commie with guts. I like him!”
-
Leon Trotsky, who had emerged from the crowd of protestors, glared at the man in a steel helmet with two stars on it, who was striding forward through the parted US soldiers.
The man walked with an air of complete leisure, swaggering as if to shout, ‘Behold, world! It is I!’
But there was no turning back now. Trotsky spoke in a deliberately polite tone.
“Greetings, Major General. Mobilizing the military for a civilian protest, excuse me, but may I ask what this is all about?”
Patton made an exaggerated show of cupping his hand over his eyes to survey the protestors before opening his mouth.
“Civilians? Where are the civilians here? All I see is a mad commie illegal immigrant and the rioters who follow him.”
Trotsky bit his lip.
The army’s incredibly swift deployment and the fact that his identity had been confirmed, despite him having refrained from external activities until this protest.
It was clear that a US government stooge was hiding among his people.
But Trotsky had already bet everything on being here; he couldn’t back down over something like that.
He was at least confident in his charisma and eloquence, his ability to captivate people.
“It seems you have a misunderstanding, Major General. These are all proud citizens and workers of the United States of America.
In the United States, the proud cradle of democracy, they have the right to express their will, and intimidating them with the military is-”
Trotsky’s words were cut short.
“Enough!!”
Patton’s roar carried a sense of intimidation that momentarily stunned everyone present.
With all eyes focused on him, Patton pointed a finger at Trotsky and shouted like thunder.
“Did you get a brain transplant from Lenin’s taxidermied corpse? You sure can run that mouth! This man is Leon Trotsky! A commie who entered the United States illegally! He is currently under suspicion of inciting the protestors gathered here to overthrow the United States Government and conspire to start a communist revolution!”
A murmur spread through the crowd in an instant.
“If there are any idiots here who were hooked by the schemes of those commie devil bastards, disperse and get lost right now! Those who refuse are enemies of the United States and commies, and a commie is a terrorist! The US Army does not negotiate with terrorists! We only crush them! Those who don't want to be crushed, disperse, now!”
Trotsky’s passion, his logic, his elegant rhetoric—it was all meaningless before a mad dog who had no intention of listening in the first place.
Before Trotsky could even offer a rebuttal, Patton let out a roar like a knight from the Middle Ages.
“All, units— Advaaaaance—!!!”
Simultaneously, the US forces, led by tanks, began to march forward in lockstep.
“I-Is it true? We were gathered to stage a coup?”
“What is this? I-I was told this was a protest for workers’ rights!”
“I-I’m out! I was tricked by the communists!”
“W-Wait! Don’t be fooled by their fabrications!”
Abern tried his best, but with the army approaching and intimidating them, and now with a plausible excuse, the collapse of the protest was instantaneous.
The protestors screamed, trembled in fear, and fled in a panic-stricken stampede. In the process, those who were pushed, fell, and were crushed to death by the crowd couldn't even scream.
As the youths, who had come only because they were ignorant and life was hard, hastily fled, only the most ardent party members remained in the chaotic aftermath.
Perhaps even some of the party members had fled with the crowd.
When Patton noticed that the remaining party members were all holding guns, he didn’t panic. Instead, he laughed heartily.
“Hahaha, see, they are armed commie rioters! A protest for workers’ rights, my ass! Suppress them!”
Having seen with their own eyes that these were indeed armed terrorists, the US soldiers raised their weapons without hesitation and began to charge.
A few of his followers threw down their weapons and fled without looking back.
“Protect Teacher Trotsky!”
Some showed their loyalty even in the chaos and raised their guns, but as US soldiers began to fall to the gunfire, the military started firing back without restraint.
Having been at the front, a bullet struck the steel helmet on Patton’s head, but instead of being frightened, he burst into crazed laughter.
“Hahahaha! I’m glad I came out here! Kill them all!”
Trotsky stood in the middle of the pandemonium and stared blankly up at the sky.
Six months after luckily surviving an assassination attempt, everything he had built was collapsing in vain.
The vast, clear sky felt almost cruel.
In the end, was what he believed to be his final gamble nothing more than a hopeless struggle from the very beginning?
He was Lenin’s legitimate successor.
An arrogance that no one but Lenin was his superior had driven him.
Even when he was expelled from the Soviet Union,
Even when his long-time comrades turned their backs on him,
Even when the Fourth International failed,
He thought it was all just due to the interference of despicable schemers like Stalin, who envied and was jealous of him.
But in the end, he had failed in his life’s final wish, even without Stalin’s interference.
If only he’d had a little more time, if only that cursed Stalin wasn’t ruining the Union of People.
His thoughts swirled, but they were all meaningless hypotheticals.
“Teacher!”
A Stuart tank approached at high speed.
The tank, which had been moving slowly in front of the infantry and cavalry merely for intimidation, now charged forward with the force to crush everything as the engagement intensified.
Even his loyal supporters, who had been struggling to protect Trotsky, scattered frantically before the steel cavalry as if performing the miracle of Moses.
Trotsky watched the approaching tank with blurry eyes.
He remembered the time he, along with Lenin, had dyed all of Russia in the whirlwind of revolution.
He remembered the glorious days when he rallied the ragtag Red Army to lead the civil war to victory and was praised as the leader of the Red Army.
And then, to the grim situation of today, where the proud Soviet Union, after he was driven out, had been corrupted and had regressed in Stalin’s hands, and was now on the brink of downfall.
Is this truly the end of communism?
Was all the effort, starting from Marx, through Lenin and himself, nothing but a futile delusion?
It could not be.
“Whoa, whoa, move!”
The soldier in the tank was the one who panicked, but Trotsky spread his arms and leaped in front of the tank.
If I cannot succeed in life, then at least—
“Long live Communism!”
In death, I will be remembered as an eternal symbol.
The sound of human flesh being crushed by the steel warhorse echoed.
-
The news that the Workers Party of the United States had attempted to start a riot in Washington D.C.
before being suppressed and that Leon Trotsky was dead swept across the world.
The American political scene was thrown into chaos as a storm of anti-communism, which in the original history would have been triggered much later by McCarthy, began to rage, with people accusing and denouncing anyone who was even slightly connected to communism, or showed any sign of it.
Companies that had been secretly smuggling goods to the Soviet Union despite the Neutrality Acts were either hit by the government’s hammer in the sudden anti-communist frenzy or voluntarily confessed and severed their ties with the Soviets.
It even reached a point where some claimed this was a Soviet conspiracy to overthrow the United States, prompting a farce where the Soviet People's Commissar for Foreign Affairs, Molotov, had to personally issue a statement declaring that Trotsky was an extremist exiled from the Soviet Union and that the Soviet Union had no intention of being hostile to America.
I felt that a wave completely different from the history I knew was now flowing through the ocean of the world.
This incident can't be seen as entirely bad from our perspective, but who knows what will happen next.
Six months until the original history's attack on Pearl Harbor.
I wonder how this world's America will move.