Chapter 1134: The Far East's Choice

Far East, Komsomolsk, Soviet Union. Inside General Chuikov’s command post, several officials from the not-yet-established “Siberian Federation” were explaining to him what was about to happen. And Chuikov, the general who had previously expressed his dissatisfaction to Moscow about constantly having his troops transferred, was at this very moment leaning back in his chair, looking at these familiar faces with an unnatural expression.

Yes, to make this general, who held great military power, more at ease with accepting that the Soviet Union was a thing of the past, the “bigwigs” in Chelyabinsk had deliberately chosen several of his acquaintances to deliver the message. Judging by the current result, the effect was quite good. At least Chuikov hadn’t flown into a rage and thrown them in prison, nor had he immediately kicked them out of his command post.

“General Chuikov… Your Excellency.” The sudden change in address made people feel unnatural when addressing each other. After all, the era’s mark of calling each other “Comrade” was too strong, so now almost everyone was deliberately avoiding that sensitive word. The lead representative was Chuikov’s classmate, his face still bearing the scars from when Stalin had exiled him to Siberia.

He looked at Chuikov, who had done who-knows-how-many-times-better for himself, and his voice was momentarily desolate. “The Soviet Union is in the past. We are already in contact with the Third Reich. They will capture Moscow soon. The Stalin you are loyal to is about to be gone.”

“So, you’ve come here to take me in? It seems the 300,000 tons of American aid I’ve intercepted and my 700,000-strong army are indeed very attractive, leading you to my door just as you’ve begun to betray the motherland.” Chuikov looked at these men he despised, his face expressionless, and spoke sarcastically. His refusal of Stalin’s transfer orders wasn’t because he wanted to betray Stalin; like Zhukov, it was because he truly had no more troops to spare.

Although the Japanese high command sometimes had a “brain freeze” at critical moments and made some bafflingly idiotic decisions, this did not in the least shake the fact that Japan’s military strength was still incomparably powerful. The combat effectiveness of the hundreds of thousands of Japanese Kwantung Army troops under Ishiwara Kanji’s command was not weak at all; one could even say it exceeded Chuikov’s estimates. Anyone who had crossed hands with the Japanese army would not underestimate such an opponent. At least Chuikov wouldn’t do something so stupid.

But Chuikov’s timing for refusing Stalin was bad. A few days after he ignored Stalin’s order and even sent a sarcastic telegram back, Chelyabinsk raised the banner of opposition to Stalin. This linked two completely unrelated events, directly tying Chuikov and Chelyabinsk to the same “warship.”

“General, if you’ll forgive my bluntness… Your troops are engaged with the Japanese. Even if we wanted your assets, it’s not because your troops can be transferred to stabilize the shattered western front.” Chuikov’s classmate had found his opening and quickly retorted, “I am more willing to believe Germany’s promises than the troops in your hands. Because, in truth, even if you were given five times the troops, the situation on the western front wouldn’t change.”

This was a bit of an insult. After all, Chuikov’s greatest asset was these hundreds of thousands of battle-hardened Far Eastern troops. But now the other party was saying they didn’t even value these troops. Wasn’t this a slap in Chuikov’s face?

But Chuikov didn’t speak, because he knew what the other said was indeed the cruel truth. Chuikov knew Zhukov’s combat ability. Under Zhukov’s command, the Soviet army, despite having millions of troops, was still defeated and eaten piecemeal by the Germans. Chuikov didn’t consider himself much stronger than Zhukov.

Right now, the Germans had at least 4 million troops on their Eastern Front. Including satellite state armies, the force exceeded 5 million. These troops were equipped with tens of thousands of tanks and armored vehicles, and possessed over ten thousand combat aircraft of various types. If he, Chuikov, had the ability to turn this tide, he could call himself the savior of the Soviet Union.

Thinking of this, Chuikov knew his bargaining chips were few. He coughed, then had to speak: “So, Chelyabinsk hopes that I will send a telegram to the world from the Far East, announce I’m joining your… ‘Siberian Federation,’ and sever all ties with the Soviet Union and the United States?”

His classmate shook his head, sighed, and said dejectedly, “Your Excellency, it’s actually the opposite. If we could guarantee the absolute integrity of the remaining Soviet territory, I would rather die this instant. But in truth, the terms the Germans offered are simply too harsh, which is why I had to come here and discuss these topics with you, which I personally have no desire to broach.”

As he spoke, he took out a handkerchief, dabbed his eyes, and continued, “The Germans do not want a powerful neighbor constantly threatening their eastern border. So, the terms they offered are railway rights and mineral rights, as well as having us return Outer Mongolia to China, and transferring the Far East region to Japan, and finally ‘losing’ it to China.”

“My God, you are selling out the country! Bastards! If you had even a shred of decency, you would arm every man right now and fight these damn Germans to the end! I would rather give the Far East to Japan, and still I would lead my troops to fight back to Moscow!” Chuikov roared, pounding the table after hearing these harsh terms.

Chuikov, who had been a diplomat and had been to China, naturally knew what the Germans were plotting. When he heard “give territory to China,” he understood Germany was deploying its forces worldwide. Luring China to carve up the Soviet Union would immediately create two natural, friendly allies at both ends of the Eurasia continent, who did not share a border. The seeds Seeckt had planted in China years ago would sprout. The US would be squeezed out by an iron-clad Eurasian-African alliance. On the east, China would hold against US and Japanese pressure; on the west, Germany would personally guard the Atlantic wall. The US and the shattered Soviet Union would never have room to recover.

“Yes, we also considered fighting to the death. But after our diplomats worked hard, we reached a compromise.” The man dabbed his tears and spoke in a tone of relief. “The Germans finally made a concession on the territorial issue. They only asked us to withdraw our forces from Outer Mongolia and did not mention any territorial demands for the Far East.”

Hearing this, Chuikov’s expression calmed somewhat. Outer Mongolia was barren and not Soviet territory. This level of concession was definitely within most people’s tolerance. So Chuikov stopped pounding the table and shouting about fighting to the end. After all, the Germans were asking for the sky, but they weren’t stopping them from haggling. He pulled his hand back from the table and looked at the man, waiting for him to continue.

“However, the Germans proposed another demand: that in your region and some neutral territories, another country be established. You will be the leader of this military government, the leader of the ‘Far Eastern Republic’.” The man paused, then said this suddenly.

“Split us? Impossible…” Chuikov, who was just about to curse, suddenly shut his mouth. He stared blankly at the man and, in the end, did not continue speaking. He had heard the one sentence in that speech that was most relevant to him, the sentence that had bored straight into his heart and would not leave.

The Far Eastern Republic… A country of his own… No longer having to live in fear of Stalin’s retribution… It sounded like an incredibly beautiful future. Chuikov fell silent. His mind was filled with the words “leader of the military government,” filled with scenes that excited him. The Soviet Union no longer existed. Under these circumstances, preserving one’s strength was no longer treason; it was the act of a pragmatist, enduring humiliation. Chuikov hesitated. He didn’t know what to choose.

There wasn’t a sound in the command post, only the faint tapping of Chuikov’s finger on the armrest of his chair. The Soviet Union would be split into two parts: one Siberia, one the Far East. Although it would no longer be a contender for hegemony, it wasn’t without its benefits, especially for him personally. In fact, there were many benefits. If he nodded in agreement, then in name, he would no longer be a Soviet general, but the leader of a country.

It had to be said, this “great pie” tossed out by the Germans was tempting to everyone. One shouldn’t doubt his wavering. After all, this was the temptation of being granted his own territory. Looking at the Soviet Union in 1991, one would know that in this situation, no matter what choice Chuikov made, it would not be surprising.

“Will the Germans provide help? Help me defeat the Japanese… and maintain my country’s territorial integrity?” Finally, Chuikov asked this.

Across the table, his classmate was stunned for a moment, then nodded with joy. “Of course. This is that Führer’s established national policy. It can naturally be written into the treaty. Mutual defense and mutual aid between Axis nations is the foundation of this alliance, is it not?”

Chuikov nodded, then shook his head, and finally waved his hand, speaking to the envoys from the “Siberian Federation.” “There are too many things involved here… too many… I need to think about it, think about it carefully. If I make this choice, the war is decided. This is a bargaining chip. Perhaps… we might have a better way.”

Hearing this, his classmate quickly tried to persuade him: “Every moment we delay, we become worth less, Chuikov! The outcome is already clear. If we don’t pick a side now, then we can only serve as cannon fodder and die in the last second of this war!”

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