Chapter 1087: Victory or Defeat Hangs on This Move

“I heard that this guy, to oppose the Führer, actually canceled a shipment of urgently needed supplies heading for the homeland. A full 4,000 tons of Norwegian iron ore are piled up on the docks, and even General Kleist’s personal appearance couldn’t resolve the issue. I heard the general’s face was green,” an SS intelligence officer at the front desk joked with two female SS NCOs. After all, not everyone was in a state of war all the time. At least, the city of Berlin lacked the atmosphere of war.

The female NCO, sitting at her post, had just retrieved a stack of letters from the complaint box. She held a cup of coffee, a sweet smile on her face. She watched the handsome, tall, pure-blooded Aryan officer make his eye-catching jokes in front of her, while she listlessly flipped through the complaint letters that came in every day.

For example, someone had reported that certain officials were corrupt and taking bribes. These cases would generally be handed over to the investigative department for verification. They had to grasp the black marks and private lives of every official, in order to help the Führer control the entire bureaucratic system. No one was invulnerable, at least not to this department. The only reason they were still at large was simply that these people were still of use to the Führer.

“The Minister of Health and Sanitation withheld 400 kilograms of marijuana, sold it to private hospitals and some addicts, and profited from it…” Tearing open the first letter of denunciation, these SS officers, who had seen it all, felt no novelty. She just casually tossed the letter into the corresponding sorting bin, so that it would be picked up on time later.

“Colonel Goveg of the Quartermaster’s Department took a bribe and procured a batch of substandard military blankets. These things are now in a barracks in France and can be used as evidence at any time.” Her fair fingers flicked, tossing this letter into the bin where it belonged.

“Denunciation: Linus Sebastian is a Soviet spy! He is also providing Imperial intelligence to Britain and the United States. The evidence is as follows…” When she saw the third letter, the female NCO’s eyes widened. In wartime, the word “spy” was extremely sensitive. So when she saw this word, she had to be on high alert and handle it with extreme care.

“Linus Sebastian… who’s that?” The female NCO turned her head to ask her colleague, another female NCO, as she pressed the letter under her palm. Before her words had even faded, a voice from behind her picked up the question: “He is not someone you should have contact with. What has happened?”

“Sir!” Everyone stood up straight. The person who had spoken was the highest-ranking SS officer, General Reinhard Heydrich, who had just been passing by. This man was synonymous with terror in Germany. No one was willing to casually mention this ominous fellow, who was no different from the Grim Reaper.

“Give it to me…” Heydrich held out his hand and said to the female NCO who had read the letter. The female NCO did not hesitate for a moment and quickly handed the letter to this superior of her superior’s superior.

“Ha.” After reading the letter, Heydrich’s mood seemed to be very good. He clasped his hands behind his back, took the letter, and walked towards his office, humming a little tune from his hometown as he went. There weren’t many things that could make him so happy at a time like this, so he decided to savor this feeling of joy.

He, of course, knew Linus Sebastian. As Akado’s right-hand man for handling the dark and trivial matters, Heydrich, of course, knew what this man’s status was in Germany. He, of course, didn’t believe a word of what was said in this letter. But for such a letter to appear at a critical juncture when there was a series of problems with the steel supply, it was very telling.

The Führer was going to move against this terrifying economic monster, and as soon as he had made his move, he had directly avoided the man’s own field of expertise. Heydrich, of course, knew that this was a signal for them, the SS, to make a move, and also an opportunity for his SS to win glory.

“Have the men of Section 1 put aside the work in their hands. I want this matter investigated and clarified as a priority!” Back in his office, Reinhard Heydrich summoned his confidant and began to give his orders. He knew this was a task from the Führer, so he was unwilling to delay for a single second.

Then he suddenly remembered something, and he called out to his confidant, who was about to leave the office, and added, “Compile a report on the contents of this letter and submit it to the Führer and the Army Intelligence Department. Since it is a major spy case, we should, in the spirit of cooperation, report it to the other relevant departments.”

“Yes, sir!” The confidant immediately understood that Gascoigne (an apparent typo for Heydrich) wanted to pull the Army Intelligence Department into this. He saluted at attention and then exited Heydrich’s office. Long after the door had closed, a smile suddenly appeared on Heydrich’s lips again. “This is all just the beginning… It seems that for some time to come, we will have our hands full.”

At the same time, in the scorching sea breeze, on the deck of an aircraft carrier in the Pacific, a row of Japanese pilots, with white headbands tied on their foreheads, raised the sake cups that were filled to the brim. In front of them stood a photographer, and the officers of their unit.

“Gentlemen! This time, just as in training, we will form up briefly in the air after takeoff. There are no difficult technical requirements,” the lead officer said, his palm resting on the hilt of his officer’s sword. He stated the mission they were about to carry out, word by word, to his men.

“Then all of us will fly our planes, break through the American fighter screen, do our best to dodge the enemy’s anti-aircraft weapons, and crash into the enemy’s warships. If every one of us can complete our mission, then the Empire will win the final victory in this war.”

All the pilots in front of him were silent. They just held their sake, their eyes open, watching their officer. They had not been learning to fly for long. Some of them had only had a few weeks of flight training before they had been required to sign a pledge to die for their country and had been transferred to the front.

Before they had stood on the deck, everyone here had been required to write a so-called “last letter.” In the letters, they had left the last words they had wanted to say to their families, but more so, they had, as required, written some official slogans about their willingness to dedicate themselves to their country.

In the dim cabins of the ship, these novice pilots had handed the letters in their hands to the officer on the carrier who was in charge of the airmen. According to the original plan, these letters would all be sent back to their homeland and delivered into the hands of their relatives. Unfortunately, all of this was on the premise that the ship itself would not be sunk.

After the officer had finished speaking, he bowed to everyone. His two hands were pressed on the seams of his trousers, a ninety-degree bow, to express his highest respect to the men in front of him. And at this time, all the soldiers had also drained the sake in their hands and had handed their cups back to the ground crew who were holding a tray on the side.

Then they, too, bowed to their commander. Everyone was immersed in a silent, tragic atmosphere. At this moment, the American bomber force was besieging the two Kongō-class battlecruisers at the very front of the Japanese fleet, and the Japanese naval air arm was entangled in a dogfight with the enemy.

Koga Mineichi had given the order to take this opportunity to launch the suicide attackers, to go and attack the American carriers, to inflict heavy losses on the enemy’s naval air power, so as to buy more favorable combat conditions for the Japanese battleship force. And so on these Japanese aircraft carriers, one after another, young Japanese pilots were all conducting this final farewell ceremony.

“His Majesty the Emperor… Banzai!” The Japanese officer, who was still bowing, took off his military cap, raised his hands high, and, still bowed, shouted this slogan. And all the pilots also raised their hands high and, following their officer, shouted loudly.

“Depart! Sink the American warships!” the officer shouted, giving the order to attack. These pilots, who had already sold their lives to the devil, only now knew, in the face of death, that it was not something that could be done with courage alone. They found that their legs were as heavy as lead, and that to turn and walk to their planes was so difficult.

There were also some who truly believed they were dying for their country and for His Majesty the Emperor. They were the first to climb onto their planes, to have the ground crew help them start these modified planes, which were loaded with explosives, and then, with resolute determination, they had taken off from their carrier’s deck.

After getting into their planes, the ground crew would lock the planes with a lock, to prevent the pilots from bailing out. This method was to prevent these pilots from changing their minds at the last minute. The reason was that someone had reported seeing a Japanese fighter pilot bail out on his own.

One after another, the Zero fighters finally took off. They formed a massive aerial formation above the Japanese carrier fleet. The Japanese Navy had really bet everything this time, sending a full 40 suicide planes at once to attack the U.S. Navy’s carrier fleet.

Koga Mineichi stood on the bridge of the battleship Yamato, his face expressionless as he watched the Japanese planes fly past his warship. He stared impassively at the distant sea. Further in the distance, the two warships, Hiei and Haruna, were being besieged by American planes.

As expected, his fleet had been discovered first by the more advanced electronic equipment of the U.S. Navy, so the American planes had also been the first to attack. Now the Americans had made their move, so it was his, Koga Mineichi’s, turn to strike back. The victory or defeat of the Imperial Navy, or rather, the victory or defeat of the Great Japanese Empire, would perhaps really be decided by this one move.

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