Chapter 213: Brauchitsch’s Day

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In a wide and bright hall, the military band played the most heroic of pieces. The entire hall had been newly decorated, because for the entire German army, today was a day worth celebrating. General von Brauchitsch, Commander-in-Chief of the German Wehrmacht, was to be promoted to Field Marshal of the Reich today by the Führer, Akado.

This promotion excited all the servicemen. After all, it had been nearly twenty years since Germany had promoted a Field Marshal. The shame brought by 1919 had been suffocating to the extreme. The feeling of being treated like a slave without having been defeated had been a torment for every German officer. Everyone was holding in a breath of resentment, hoping that the next time they needed to shed their blood for the fatherland, they could fulfill their duty as a soldier. Yes, duty! Even if it meant dying on the battlefield, they would never again accept the shame of 1919!

However, the gloom had gradually dissipated after 1925. The secret expansion of the Wehrmacht had allowed many young generals to be promoted. What was most thrilling was the official arrival of a young man on the stage: Akado Rudolph. He had removed the hat of humiliation from the entire Wehrmacht. He had led everyone, step by step, to reclaim the dignity that belonged to German soldiers.

The armed entry into the Rhineland was the first time Germany had taken back its own territory after the war. Although it was not spectacular, it was indeed the very first step. Subsequently, the German armed forces annexed Austria and Czechoslovakia without firing a shot, taking these two crucial regions. Both industrially and economically, this compensated the devastated German economy. Then, in Hungary, Germany swept away the haze of defeat and engaged in an international contest with Britain and France on an equal footing.

The Führer seemed to be a gift from God, helping the bewildered German army to formulate a direction for its development. The army, based on mechanized infantry and tanks, established the blitzkrieg operational plan. The navy, to achieve the strategic goal of surpassing Britain, abandoned battleships and focused on developing carrier tactics. The air force, from nothing, had made a leap from zero to world-class in one breath.

In the Spanish Civil War, Germany’s air force had achieved a proud combat record, relying on advanced weapons and equipment to defeat the Soviet air force that was backing the Republican army. Although not many people knew of these achievements at the time, it had indeed been a shot in the arm for the developing German army.

Of course, the most brilliant performance was that of the German army in the Polish campaign. Although they had held their heads high before, those were just minor skirmishes under the cover of diplomatic victories. The real battle that marked the turnaround for the post-war German Wehrmacht was the just-concluded Polish campaign.

Through the Führer’s meticulous planning and efforts, Germany launched a surprise attack on the number one power in Eastern Europe, Poland, on September 13, 1937. When everyone was optimistic about Poland, Germany used its combat results to explain to the whole world what it meant to use a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken.

In the sky above, the German pilots had completely destroyed the Polish air force in just three days and had seized air superiority over the battlefield. By the twentieth day of the war, the Polish air force had reached the embarrassing state of having no combat aircraft. The Stukas and Do-217 bombers flew with impunity over Poland, wantonly destroying Polish ground targets, and had even used their new weapon, napalm, in the north.

Under the cover of the air force, the German armored forces had broken through the Polish defenders’ lines on the first day and had advanced 50 kilometers in one go. Subsequently, the unrestrained panzer commanders had completed their dream-like offensive at a racing pace. Because the advance was too fast, Guderian was almost killed by his own side’s shells on a highway. Rommel had run into scattered Polish troops while looking for his own units.

Although there were many accidents and jokes, this fledgling German Wehrmacht had achieved results that made the whole world take notice. They had defeated Poland in twenty days, surrounding and occupying the Polish capital, Warsaw. The price for destroying such a large Eastern European country was less than ten thousand casualties. One must remember that in World War I, advancing 100 meters could cost tens of thousands of lives.

This was the very definition of vindication! This combat record was an accounting to the entire German people after 1919. The German Wehrmacht was still that army capable of protecting the Germanic nation, still that battle-hardened and formidable force that made the whole world tremble. Although the German Wehrmacht still had a score to settle with France, which had just provoked the German border, at least now the Wehrmacht had rallied once more.

This promotion was the proof! A Field Marshal of the Reich! That was the pinnacle of military rank that a soldier could achieve. For these victories that brought tears to one’s eyes, for these dazzling honors, it was worth it even to die in battle for the Führer!

He didn’t know what others were thinking, but when Brauchitsch walked into the hall for the promotion ceremony, when he was surrounded by lights and applause, that was what he thought. He walked up to Akado, stood at attention, straightened his back, raised his right hand, and with a German salute that was perfect to the extreme, expressed his respect for the Führer. “Long live the great Führer Akado Rudolph!”

“Long live Great Germany! I must congratulate you today, General of the Reich, Commander-in-Chief of the Wehrmacht, Walther von Brauchitsch,” Akado returned the salute with a smile. “After deliberation and approval by the Imperial Reichstag, I will officially promote you to become the first Field Marshal of the Third Reich!”

The magnesium flashes of the cameras photographed ceaselessly, the lights flashing nonstop. Brauchitsch felt that today was a truly good day. The scenery around him was so captivating—of course, the tunic the Führer was wearing today was also a very good fit. The applause was a bit noisy, so noisy that it was almost in sync with the music, like the sound of soldiers in formation, marching in step. It was so beautiful that one couldn’t help but shed tears upon hearing it.

Amidst the cheers of the people, amidst the continuous applause, Akado placed an exquisite Imperial Field Marshal’s baton, symbolizing honor and power, into Brauchitsch’s hands. “Congratulations, Field Marshal von Brauchitsch! I hope you can continue to lead my army to win wars and march toward victory!”

“Please rest assured, Führer! I will do my utmost to lead your army to victory! I will lead your army to destroy and occupy every place you need!” Brauchitsch replied loudly, holding the Marshal’s baton.

A luxurious evening banquet, clinking wine glasses, fine red wine, gentle music. Countless people came forward to congratulate, and countless others came forward to curry favor. The intoxicating temperature, coupled with the intoxicating aroma, really made it easy for people to sing happily. Tonight, for Brauchitsch, was undoubtedly a day to remember.

Poland, on the Eastern Front.

In a trench, a wounded Polish soldier was struggling desperately. Just a moment ago, a bullet had passed through his fragile neck. Around him, his former comrades were still returning fire fiercely with their rifles. And beside him, the body of a soldier was already cold. On that blood-covered face, several flies had already landed.

A medic was pressing on his wound, trying to stop the blood that was gushing out like a fountain. But the red liquid still slipped away from his neck, carrying his body heat with it, without a trace of pity.

“My God! Someone help me! I’m out of morphine!” the medic shouted, throwing a blood-soaked bandage to the side and then taking out a new one to open.

No one paid him any attention. A bullet struck not far from him, and another Polish soldier’s steel helmet was pierced. He fell beside the medic, his face covered in blood. Although he was already breathless, his toes were still twitching.

“We’re out of medicine! The wounded can’t be evacuated! We’re almost out of ammunition too!” a Polish officer complained to his superior in his command post not far away. “The relief force should have replaced us days ago! If we continue to fight like this, we will be completely wiped out here!”

“There will be no reinforcements. We are fighting alone now. Warsaw was occupied by the Germans days ago. The land beneath our feet is all that is left of Polish territory,” his superior said helplessly.

“Then what can we do?” the junior Polish officer asked, his eyes filled with hot tears.

“I plan to hold this position to the last moment. But you, my boy… you can take your men and leave! I hear the Germans on the other side are relatively lenient with Polish prisoners, at least better than the Soviets,” he said with a forced smile. “My leg is injured. I would be a burden to you if you took me. Just let me stay behind with the wounded. If we can hold back the Soviet army for a while, then that’s what we’ll do. The orders from division headquarters seem to be that everyone is retreating.”

“Boom!” A shell exploded in a trench not far away. Several Polish soldiers were killed there. After holding out for a month, this permanent defensive fortification on Poland’s eastern front had finally reached its end.

“Soldiers who are not wounded, follow me! We are retreating!” the young officer said, bidding farewell to his superior. He led a dozen or so soldiers out of this section of the trench. A few kilometers behind them was a field hospital, and behind that was their entire division’s headquarters. There, about half a regiment of soldiers had already gathered.

“We were defeated by the Germans, only to let this bunch of Soviet bastards pick up the spoils,” one soldier said with dissatisfaction. “In the future, we must fight back! Let these Soviets know what we’re made of!”

The Polish defenders, lacking outside support, were forced to begin a full-scale retreat. The Soviet Red Army began to advance without opposition. In the desolate villages, on the vast grasslands, the sound of sporadic gunfire could be heard everywhere. The Polish soldiers, unwilling to be enslaved by the Soviets, were using their own methods to create trouble for the massive Soviet invading force.

The Soviet Union and the remnants of the Polish forces fought for another full 15 days, only reaching the German actual control line on October 21. But this day should indeed be recorded in the annals of history. Poland, a nation founded after World War I, was destroyed on this day