Chapter 382: Envy

In the dim light, a middle-aged man and an old man sat opposite each other, silently looking at a copy of the “Draft Franco-German Peace Treaty” in their hands.

The old man’s face was covered in ravines, which looked twisted in the light. The young man’s complexion was not very good, which made him look even more sickly. The two had been sitting there for at least a dozen minutes, yet they had still not said a word.

After a long while, the young man finally couldn’t help but speak. “Marshal Pétain, has it really come to this?” he asked, grabbing the old gentleman’s hand, his voice full of unwillingness and helplessness.

Yes, this old man was the famous French Marshal, Pétain. Back then, as the German army was advancing smoothly in the early stages of the Battle of Verdun, General de Langle de Cary had requested a retreat. Pétain’s unit, which was resting and reorganizing in the rear, had been urgently transferred to the Verdun front on February 24, 1916, to take over the responsibility of defending the fortress of Verdun. Subsequently, this Pétain had officially entered the stage of history, demonstrating his outstanding tactical command talent.

When Pétain had taken office, the situation of the French army was already at its worst. The defensive line had been torn in many places, and the fortress, which had always been considered impregnable, had also fallen into the hands of the German army. What was more fatal was that the day after Pétain had taken office, he had caught pneumonia and had had to command the subsequent battles from his sickbed. Fortunately, Pétain, despite his high fever, had still immediately grasped the key to the problem—artillery and logistics—which had allowed the cruel battle to continue.

He had put forward the famous defensive slogan “They shall not pass,” which had become the battle motto of the French army at the time. In addition, to prevent the morale of the French army from falling, Pétain had also persuaded Joffre to adopt a troop rotation system, so almost all of the French army had experienced this cruel battle and had accumulated experience.

Under his strict leadership, by the time he had replaced General de Langle de Cary as the commander of the Central Army Group on May 1, Verdun had been turned from danger to safety. And as the superior of General Nivelle, who had succeeded him as the commander of the Second Army, Pétain had continued to exert his influence on the Verdun battle situation. Four months later, the French army had launched a major offensive on the Somme, and the German army had stopped its attack on Verdun. The Battle of Verdun had ended in victory. Pétain, as the “Victor of Verdun,” had become a national hero of France, famous throughout the world, regarded as the “Savior of France.”

“De Gaulle, we have all done our best, but we are still unable to save our great France,” Marshal Pétain said, his handsome mustache moving as he spoke. But now, this old man’s face was full of fatigue, and his voice was not loud. “It is time to give France a decent ending.”

“If, if we can hold on for two months, then the American aid will arrive, and we will be able to stabilize the defensive line…” de Gaulle said bitterly. He was a staunch advocate of war, so he had always been fantasizing that the American aid would arrive soon, and that this war would be dragged into the same state as the First World War.

“Young man, you are too impulsive,” Pétain said with a smile, although it was very forced, it was still very calm. “Things are different now than in the last war.”

“Why are they different?” de Gaulle asked with a frown.

“Back then, we were fighting in Belgium and some border areas, so we could naturally afford the consumption. Even if we had beaten those areas to a pulp, we would not have suffered an irreparable loss,” Pétain said very directly, without any hesitation. “To fight on someone else’s land, or on land that is already barren, we can afford it.”

He pointed to a small map of France on the side and continued, “But, de Gaulle, if we continue to fight now, where will it be? Paris, Lyon, Châlons, Dijon, Rouen… Even if we win this battle after four years, what will be left of France?”

“The British and the Americans naturally hope that we will continue to fight. Only a fool would use all of his family’s property to help others fight a war of unknown outcome,” Pétain said with a cold laugh. “Do they take the French for fools? The situation we have today, wasn’t it caused by that bunch of British idiots?”

“The British? What do you mean?” de Gaulle asked with a frown.

“Kid! You’re still too young! You should learn a thing or two!” Pétain laughed out loud. “The British have long known that Germany was rising, and a portion of the external support for its rise was provided by the British! These damned Englishmen are playing a strategy of letting Germany and France check and balance each other. That’s why, in the implementation of the ‘Treaty of Versailles’ back then, the British were always helping the Germans to cover up.”

“How can that be? Aren’t the British also being beaten so badly that they can’t even hold their heads up? Could it be that to destroy France, they don’t even want their own lives?” de Gaulle asked again, puzzled.

“This is called suffering the consequences of one’s own actions! They helped the Germans to cover up, but they didn’t expect that the Soviets were also helping the Germans to cover up, and they also didn’t expect that the Germans were hiding so many things in secret!” Pétain said with a helpless sigh. “This Akado is not simple… He had already begun to prepare for this day in 1923. He has prepared for fifteen years. How could he possibly lose?”

“Then you can’t be allowed to do such a humiliating thing, Marshal!” de Gaulle said with a frown. “Leave here with me. Go to our overseas colonies. Let that fellow Darlan take the blame himself!”

“Hahaha!” The old marshal laughed. He looked much happier, but he still waved his hand and said, “No one can take my place in this matter! If I, this old bag of bones, were not left in France to hold the fort, who could control the Germans and the French themselves?”

“Then your reputation, Marshal?” de Gaulle asked again, still a bit insistent.

“Reputation? To be honest, compared to Britain, I am more optimistic about the Germans,” Pétain said, closing his eyes and continuing. “Being a traitor to France is my personal choice. If I have chosen wrong, then my life is ruined. If I am correct, then I will become the hero who saved France.”

“But a traitor is a traitor… there is no good explanation for it,” Pétain said with a self-deprecating smile. “I am old and can no longer fight, so I am more accustomed to this method of preserving what we have. And that righteous but difficult road must be walked by you young people.”

“What is this?” de Gaulle said, a little annoyed and sullen.

“What is it? The best home for a defeated France,” Pétain said, standing up and walking out with his hands behind his back. “We will bet on both sides and see who can pull France out of this mire.”

He walked to the door and turned his head to look at de Gaulle. “You will set out at once. Flee to Toulon, and then rush to Britain. There, you will raise a banner and establish the Free French to continue the resistance. And as for me, I will stay behind and see if this Führer of ours is the destined ruler of the European continent.”

France had been defeated this time, but there were also advantages to being defeated. The rapid collapse had allowed France to preserve its blood and bone and had also stabilized the situation. It had withdrawn from this world war in the fastest and easiest way. For the French people, this did not seem to be bad news.

Moreover, Marshal Pétain’s proposal to surrender had split the internal forces of France, dividing it into a loose alliance of the neutralist military leader, Admiral Darlan, and the collaborationist Pétain, and also a Free French faction of the war party, led by the young officer de Gaulle.

This was the first move that France had made after its defeat. It remained to be seen how Germany, as the victor, would respond. The bargaining chips were the territory ceded by France, and the content of the bargaining included the scale of the French army, the ownership of the navy, and the overseas colonies… these issues were all the key points of the confrontation between the two sides. How to complete a negotiation that was favorable to the French was a matter for the diplomats.

And in the German capital of Berlin, Akado was having dinner with Mussolini. He was elegantly cutting his steak, a smile on his face that was unique to a victor. Mussolini on the other side was talking on and on, as if he were not at all concerned with the steak and all sorts of delicacies.

He boasted of the Italian fleet, claiming that his navy had already grasped command of the sea in more than half of the Mediterranean. He praised the German export-model Me-109C fighter to the skies and expressed his hope of being able to buy more new German weapons. He talked at length about the importance of the alliance between Italy and Germany, claiming that he was willing to share weal and woe with his German allies.

“Alright, Leader Mussolini. I know that Italy was not ready for war, and I also know Italy’s current actual situation. I even know these problems better than you do yourself!” Akado said, interrupting Mussolini’s boasting as he cut his steak. “If you sign all 50 of these contracts, then Marseille will be yours. If you feel it is inappropriate, then let’s just pretend nothing has happened. I will be setting out for Paris tomorrow, so you had better give me a reply tonight.”

“Forty contracts! The few treaties concerning the requisition of factories and ports… I really can’t make that decision,” Mussolini said with a bitter smile and a plea. “I really envy you. You are now a Führer who is sufficient to sway the decisions of two countries, Italy and Germany.”

“I am not the leader of the Italian people. On the contrary, Mr. Mussolini, you are! I can only seek the welfare of the German people, and the Third Reich is not a charity. Since we have fought and bled for our allies, we must get the reward we deserve,” Akado said solemnly. “The Third Reich is invincible because they trust me and worship me as a god. I must live up to this faith, mustn’t I?”

Mussolini looked at Akado and finally sighed. He took a thick stack of documents and began to sign his name. And his assistant, behind him, stamped the seal of Italy on the signature of every document.

“I really envy the Germans. They have a great leader,” Mussolini said, after signing the last name. He threw down his fountain pen, exhausted, and let out a deep breath.

“I am more fortunate to have been born into a great nation,” Akado said with a smile.

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