Chapter 1038: Not Running Anymore

The German army’s operation in Italy met with almost no real resistance. Just as some German reconnaissance teams were entering the city of Rome, the Italian armies that had sworn allegiance to Mussolini had, for the most part, completely collapsed. Most Italian units chose to sit on the sidelines, ignoring the annihilation of Mussolini’s few loyalist units by the German army, in order to ensure their own homes would not be consumed by the flames of war.

“Where is the 1st Corps of the Rome City Defense Group? Can we get this unit to counter-attack to the north and buy us some time?” Mussolini stood in front of the Rome city defense map, asking the generals gathered around him. His aides had all fled. Only a few colonel-level loyalists remained by his side at this moment.

“Leader, the 1st Corps has already been surrounded by the German vanguard at Monterotondo. They are trying to break out, but… the enemy’s firepower is just too strong.” An army colonel dejectedly reported the current situation. The troops most loyal to Mussolini had already been encircled at the front.

Of course, Rome’s city defenses were now full of holes. Some districts had even been occupied by pro-German forces, and Mussolini’s personal guard couldn’t even enter. Outside the city, German armored cars had begun to appear frequently, and some German special forces had already infiltrated the city.

In this chaotic situation, coupled with the fact that Rome’s defensive system had not been established at all—all of this doomed the city of Rome. It was simply impossible for a protracted urban street battle to break out here.

“Leader! You must take your loyal men and retreat south… Although that bastard Garibaldi controls many cities and transport hubs in the south, he hasn’t had enough time to prepare. He’ll still leave some opportunities for us…” an Air Force major looked at Mussolini anxiously. He was a die-hard loyalist of the Leader and had been devising strategies for him all along.

The 20 aircraft under his command stationed near Rome, along with his trusted pilots, had all been wiped out by German fighter units within a few hours, without even giving him a moment to breathe. And just two days ago, he had been in his command post, planning a bombing operation against the Romanian oil fields.

Another of Mussolini’s confidants, a naval captain, also nodded and said, “Leader! You must know that our navy is still loyal to your command. As long as we can escape to a port, we can organize the soldiers again and delay the German advance…”

“Yes! Once we reach those southern ports, we can at least be reinforced by tens of thousands of American troops. At that point, it won’t be so easy for the Germans to wipe us out in a short time… As long as we can hold on…” the army colonel who had spoken first continued to urge.

Everyone knew Rome could not be held. The city was simply not prepared to welcome a war. Once the German army was at the gates, it would be captured within days. Moreover, Mussolini had no intention of turning Rome into a battlefield. After all, to start a war that would destroy his own nation’s capital… that responsibility, even if he ultimately won, would be enough to become a stain on his legacy as the leader of Italy.

Of course, being a stain on his legacy was secondary… The key was that he had no real forces to use. The Rome city defense force had about 150,000 men. If he mobilized immediately, it might reach 200,000. But this force lacked heavy weapons and had no fighting spirit. How could it stop the offensive of Germany’s battle-hardened elite?

And even of these 150,000 men, Mussolini knew in his heart that at least 100,000 of them were the type to drop their weapons and surrender the moment the Germans arrived. Of the remaining 50,000, he estimated 20,000 would directly defect, give up their defensive lines, and let the Germans into Rome.

“Report! Report!” A soldier rushed into the office, panting in extreme tension. He pointed up at the sky, finally catching his breath enough to get the words out: “Outside… in the sky outside… in the sky, so many, so many… so many German planes!”

Mussolini was stunned. He leaned towards his window and sure enough, he saw a dozen German planes scattering leaflets and other papers over the city of Rome. He didn’t need to look at one to guess the contents—it would be a message urging the Roman civilians not to resist.

“Damn it! Where is the air raid siren? Are these anti-aircraft units useless? Fire! Why aren’t they firing?” the Air Force major roared in exasperation. He grabbed a nearby phone and yelled into the receiver, “This is the Rome City Defense Command! Get me the Air Defense Command! Quickly!”

The room then fell into a strange silence for a few seconds, which stretched on. By the time Mussolini turned his head, puzzled, to look at his confidant, the Air Force major, the man was just angrily slamming the phone’s receiver down onto the desk. “Bastards! They’re not even picking up the phone here!”

As the saying goes, “the tide has turned.” This was exactly that situation. Mussolini was now facing a total collapse. Deserted by his followers, he couldn’t even implement any measures to deal with the situation. They could only sit here and imagine what was happening outside, because a lot of news could no longer be delivered to them in time.

“Leader! My advice is still the same. You must take your loyal men and retreat south! As long as we can reach the southern ports, we still have one last chance to fight. If we stay here now, then everything is truly finished!” The Air Force major finally broke the silence. He knew the only chance left was to rendezvous with the American landing forces.

The naval captain, who had originally been full of ideas, had now become a yes-man. He quickly nodded and said, “Leader! You must know that our navy is still loyal to your command. As long as we can escape to a port, we can rendezvous with the fleet… At the very least, we can establish a temporary command post on a warship.”

Over and over, they all knew by now that their own Italian troops could not be counted on. The only thing that could truly save them from defeat now was the American force that was expected to land in southern Italy and begin operations against Germany.

Ring, ring, ring. A pleasant telephone ring sounded. Looking at its position, it was the naval liaison phone. The naval captain’s face lit up, and he hurried over to snatch the receiver. They desperately needed some good news right now, and the navy’s actions were the only news they could look forward to.

“This is… What? Speak clearly… What do you mean the navy issued a bulletin? They didn’t shell the Gibraltar fortress? Where are the Americans? What do you mean you didn’t see any Americans?” The joyful expression was still on his face as he picked up the phone, but the words coming out of his mouth were already filled with despair. The captain staggered, almost dropping the phone.

“Say no more. I’m guessing it’s because the American fleet never showed up at Gibraltar, right?” Mussolini asked with a bitter smile. He had already guessed that the Americans would change their plans in this situation. If it had been him, he would have also chosen to abandon Italy—if you can’t pull your own weight, you can’t blame others for not saving you.

“The fleet… the fleet has also defected…” The naval captain, as if his soul had been sucked out, found a chair, plopped down, and wailed, half-crying, half-laughing, “The fleet didn’t carry out the mission? It turned back? Why didn’t they even send a single telegram back? Why? Why?”

What he couldn’t understand was actually very easy to explain. The main reason the Italian Navy had leaned on Mussolini’s tree was to preserve its own strength and avoid battle. To now ask them to attack the Gibraltar fortress, where they had no chance of gaining an advantage, in a near-suicidal manner to cover an Allied fleet’s passage… it would have been strange if the Italian warships had obeyed the order.

“I’m not running! I’m not going anywhere. I’ll just wait here! I’d like to see what the Germans can do to me!” Mussolini laughed, a laugh so helpless, so desolate. It wasn’t that he was suddenly filled with courage or in high spirits. The main reason for this “bare-all” stance was that he knew, this time, he was well and truly doomed.

In Rome, he still had some influence. Once he left this city, he probably wouldn’t even make it to southern Italy before he was tied up and handed over to the Germans for a reward. Thinking of this, he felt he should stay in Rome. At the very least, he should be responsible for his own actions.

“Have our loyal soldiers blockade the surrounding streets, deploy a defense line, and prepare to counter the German attack!” Mussolini looked at the army colonel beside him and gave the order to hold the position. “Including my personal guard, defend every room and corridor that can be defended. Do not let anyone near this room.”

“Leader, what if we escape from here, go to some small town or village and hide…” the Air Force major suggested, looking at the naval captain who was still sitting in his chair, laughing foolishly. He was still young; he didn’t want to die here like this.

Unfortunately, Mussolini rejected his suggestion. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to talk to Akado face to face one more time. I want to ask this great Führer of the Germans, to his face, if he intends to kill everyone who disagrees with him.”

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