Chapter 383: Francia

On February 3rd, over a military airfield on the outskirts of Paris, a new, four-engine Führer’s special plane, a modified German Butcher strategic bomber, slowly landed. Around it, a full twenty escorting Fw-190D fighters were still circling and on alert in the sky.

The roar of the engines had not yet dissipated, and the propellers were still turning, when the plane’s door was opened from the inside, and a simple gangway was slowly lowered. The first to jump off the plane was a tall man in an SS officer’s uniform, followed by a second man of the same attire and stature. Unlike the first, this man was carrying a leather briefcase.

The wind was still as biting as ever, because on the open airfield runway, it was particularly like a gun or a knife. Akado walked to the cabin door and, step by step, descended the gangway. Following behind him were two devastatingly beautiful women, Anna and the Propaganda Minister, Fanny. Behind them was the Foreign Minister, Merkel, followed by secretaries and other subordinates.

And standing by the side of the runway to welcome the Führer of the Reich were two of the hottest generals in the Reich’s army, Guderian and Rommel. These two men had now withdrawn from the frontline offensive sequence. One was stationed in Rouen, the other in Paris. They had already received orders from the Supreme High Command to prepare to return to Germany to form new army groups.

But this time, Akado had wanted to see these two fierce generals, which was why he had summoned them both to the airfield. Akado smiled and walked to the side of the runway, stopping in front of the two men.

“Heil Führer Akado Rudolph!” Guderian and Rommel both saluted at attention. They were both wearing the Knight’s Cross with Oak Leaves and were dressed in newly tailored general’s uniforms. If it weren’t for Akado, that promotion monster, ahead of them, they could be said to be the representatives of the younger generation of the Reich.

“You’ve worked hard,” Akado said, patting Guderian’s shoulder and then looking at Rommel with a smile, speaking in a very kind and amiable manner. “I hear that sometimes you don’t get a good night’s sleep for several days. This is not a good habit! When the war is over, I still want you to accompany me and travel all over the beautiful mountains and rivers of Germany.”

“Please rest assured, Führer. I will definitely accompany you all the way,” Guderian replied with a smile.

“My Führer, I will also accompany you all the way,” Rommel also followed up.

“Rommel, the unit you are to form is a bit special. I need you to be able to stand on your own in a larger environment. There are no outsiders here who cannot be told secrets, so I will be direct. I don’t have much hope for Italy’s North Africa strategy. When the time comes, I will transfer you to Africa to clean up the mess left by Mussolini. Do you have the confidence?”

“My Führer, in a situation of fighting far from home, supply will be the most crucial factor in determining victory or defeat,” Rommel was no longer the fledgling young man he once was. He was a seasoned veteran of the battlefield, and with just a little thought, he had raised his own doubts. “In that kind of environment, our tanks, armored cars, and fighter planes are all huge gas guzzlers. Can the navy maintain such a massive total supply?”

“The navy’s affairs are not for you to consider. I will only tell you that I will give you everything you want, and what you have to do is very simple: fight your way to Suez and dominate North Africa!” Akado said with great ambition. “I want you to become the King of Africa, and when the whole world mentions you, they will think of your terrifying L Army Group, the terrifying Afrika Korps.”

“When you have taken Egypt, I will hand you the marshal’s baton and make you one of the greatest soldiers of the Reich,” Akado said finally, and then fell silent, just staring at Rommel.

“My Führer, I will hold Africa in the palm of my hand for you,” Rommel said after thinking for about ten seconds. He then solemnly stood at attention and saluted. “Long live Akado Rudolph!”

Hearing Rommel’s reply, Akado nodded and then turned his gaze to Guderian. “I don’t intend to let you rest either. Take your G Army Group to the Eastern Front. If the Russians dare to come, we will break their bones!”

“Then what about Britain?” Guderian asked with a frown.

“Britain? Leave it to von Rundstedt. I owe this general a marshal’s baton, so I have no choice but to give him the goal of taking Britain and guarding the Atlantic,” Akado said with a wave of his hand, signaling for them to walk together toward the cars that were waiting on the side. “What’s left in Western Europe is all the messy business of naval battles and scheming. It’s not suitable for you generals on the battlefield. I’ll leave the rest to me, August, and Merkel… What? Don’t you trust us?”

“My Führer…” The two immediately became terrified.

“Just kidding. You two will accompany me in Paris today,” Akado said, walking to the side of the car. As Anna opened the car door, he continued, “I have no appetite for dinner with that bunch of French diplomats. It’s more appetizing to have dinner with you two.”

After speaking, he got into the car. As the long convoy started up, it slowly drove toward the city of Paris. The surrender ceremony was to be held at the former residence of the Emperor Napoleon in Paris. A huge German swastika flag had already been hung there.

Originally, someone had suggested that the French should complete the surrender ceremony in the same railway carriage where the “Treaty of Versailles” had been signed. This way, it would be considered as having taken revenge, retaliating for the humiliation that the French had imposed on the Germans in 1918. But Akado had sneered at this method of revenge that Hitler had used back then. He had made a more astute calculation and had decided to give up the act of slapping the French in the face.

After all, Akado still had to requisition those French factories, which, although not very efficient, were massive in scale. And he also had to find a way to make the French continue to contribute to his war of aggression, at least to keep the French colonies in North Africa neutral in the future war. Finally, deep in his soul, there was still a trace of moderation. He did not want to do things to the extreme, nor did he want to make the French lose too much face.

After all, what he wanted this time was much more than what Hitler had wanted. So on this small matter of face, he still appeared very magnanimous.

Amidst the flashing of countless reporters’ flashbulbs, the Führer, wearing a black SS uniform, ascended the steps and walked into the former residence of the Emperor Napoleon. He had one hand on his web belt, the other swung with his steps, holding a pair of leather gloves in his hand, a faint, inscrutable smile on his face.

On his arm was a German national flag armband with a golden wheat ear embroidered on the edge. On his chest were pinned the Iron Cross he had been awarded during the First World War, as well as various commemorative and meritorious medals he had received during his promotions within the Wehrmacht.

“Heil Führer Akado Rudolph!” The honor guard, wearing white gloves and holding Mauser 98K rifles, stood at attention and saluted. Their raised right hands formed an arch on both sides of Akado. Akado walked forward slowly, step by step, without looking sideways, but every step made the French diplomats waiting at the end of the corridor’s hearts tremble.

After several hours of arduous negotiations, the French had lost almost half of their own country, had ceded most of their economically prosperous regions, including the capital, Paris, and had also, in the name of compensating Italy for its losses, presented Monaco, Nice, Toulon, and other regions. At the same time, France had disbanded its army and air force, with Germany, as a protectorate, exercising the power of national defense.

And France had to pay Germany 400 million francs a day as military protection and security maintenance fees. Germany had the right to requisition the vast majority of French factories and to appoint supervisory departments to enter French enterprises for wartime supervision, in order to improve production efficiency. At the same time, all French ports had to be open to German warships for a period of 200 years.

And on the basis of this treaty, France was generously allowed by the German government to retain its entire navy and most of its overseas colonies. But France had to promise to send out its fleet to help Germany to guard the Mediterranean shipping routes and to ensure that these routes were not harassed by the British Mediterranean fleet.

At the same time, France announced that it would join the Pact of Steel and become a member of the Axis. The pro-German French Marshal, Pétain, would serve as the Prime Minister of France. He would announce his withdrawal from the war against Germany and, with Germany’s understanding, would maintain “neutrality” toward the British government—on the premise that the French navy would not be attacked by British warships when it was carrying out its Mediterranean mission.

Of course, there were other clauses that looked a bit amusing and exasperating. For example, Germany would allow France to provide materials and industrial capacity to help Germany win the war, and afterward, Germany would, just as it had promoted Italy, give France war compensation. This clause had almost zero appeal to the French, because given the current relationship between the two countries, not kicking them when they were down was already the height of benevolence.

But to have preserved the French Navy could be considered a great fortune in misfortune. At the very least, the Commander-in-Chief of the French Navy, Darlan, was very satisfied with this result. This way, France’s maritime interests could be preserved by at least a large half. And their control over their overseas colonies would not be weakened much, which would at least allow France to retain a third of its hope for a revival.

“My Führer,” during the signing, Merkel had found an opportunity to come to Akado’s side. “If we had insisted, we could have at least taken three battleships from the French… Is it really not worth considering the suggestion of the Naval Field Marshal, Raeder?”

“Merkel, trust me…” Akado replied, staring at the document being signed. “Even if these fleets are not mine, they will absolutely not become the British’s. Since that is the case, it is no longer such an important issue who controls these few warships.”

After answering Merkel’s question, Akado smiled and took the fountain pen, signing his name at the bottom of the document in a flowing, cursive script. Subsequently, a diplomat stamped the document with a steel seal, followed by the enthusiastic applause of a group of German officers and politicians, followed by the loud cheers of nearly a hundred honor guards outside.

The Führer smiled and extended his hand to the French diplomat who was in charge of signing the peace treaty, offering his own blessing. “Congratulations. The Franco-German war is over.”