Chapter 542: Apology
A German transport plane slowly descended at the airport in the capital, Berlin. Accompanying its landing were two escorting Fw-190D fighters. Engines roared as, not far away, a German civilian air transport plane was loading and unloading mail and express delivery items.
However, the items being unloaded from a nearby military transport plane were more shocking: the personal effects of soldiers brought back from the front lines. Stacks of starched and ironed clothes were carried off the plane by soldiers, along with some unposted letters and medals awarded to the frontline soldiers.
The door of the personnel transport was slowly opened. The first soldier jumped off the plane and secured the gangway. Rommel ducked out of the plane, a trace of fatigue still on his face. He had rushed back from the front to Tunisia, then flown all the way back to Rome, and then, without stopping, had flown from the Italian capital back to Berlin.
This was the first time the Führer had personally ordered a frontline general to return to the country to report on his duties. He knew that his arbitrary actions in North Africa had already made the military high command very dissatisfied. He also, of course, knew that the main reason for the repeated setbacks in the North African campaign was that he had been constantly on the offensive. If he had been able to defend at the right time, then the situation would probably be much better than it was now.
“Heil Führer Akado Rudolph! General, the car to pick you up is already waiting over there,” a major, who was standing not far from the plane, said, stepping forward and saluting Rommel. He had been sent by the General Staff to welcome Rommel. Logically, the reception for a full general should have been more grand, but it seemed that to express their dissatisfaction, the General Staff had only arranged for one car for Rommel.
“Heil Führer Akado Rudolph!” Rommel returned the salute, very standard and formal. He had been promoted to his current position by the Führer. If he did not show his loyalty to the Führer now, he would be only one step away from eternal damnation.
After returning the salute, he threw his unwashed trench coat to his aide behind him and, with a smile, walked with the major towards the Mercedes-Benz reserved for high-ranking military officials in the distance. As he walked, he even joked, “I thought I would have to walk back myself. I never expected you to send a car to pick me up. It’s truly a surprise.”
“General, you jest. The Führer has personally ordered that you are to go to the Führer’s residence as soon as you arrive. Is there anything else I can help you with?” the major asked, standing at attention as he opened the rear door of the car for Rommel.
“So late? I haven’t even had a bath or changed into clean clothes…” Rommel glanced at his watch. It was already past 5 PM. This was usually dinner time. It would be at least 6 o’clock by the time he reached the Führer’s residence. So he looked at the major and said with a frown.
“It is the Führer’s order,” the major said, also helpless.
“Well… let’s go then,” Rommel said, ducking into the car. Subsequently, the Mercedes-Benz started up and drove off towards the city center of Berlin. Tall buildings began to appear on both sides of the road. Berlin was even more magnificent than when Rommel had last left. This was the center of Germany, the center of the Axis, and of course, one of the most magnificent cities in the entire world.
One checkpoint after another. The closer one got to the core of the road leading to the Führer’s residence, the stricter the security checks became. Soldiers with rifles stood on both sides of the checkpoints, looking solemn and imposing.
After checking the documents of both Rommel and the major, the officer on duty at the checkpoint handed the two small books back to them. “General, welcome to the Führer’s residence. Please park the car in the designated spot and wait. The driver is not to get out and walk around at will.”
He was not joking. Krupp’s driver had been smoking near the parking lot of the Führer’s residence and had been pinned to the ground by the SS on duty, who had mistaken him for an arsonist trying to set off a bomb. It was only after Krupp and Akado had both arrived at the scene that the misunderstanding was cleared up. Because no one knew what you were going to do when you took out a lighter, such dangerous actions were strictly forbidden near the Führer.
“Heil Führer!” The moment the car came to a stop at the Führer’s residence, the SS soldiers on both sides stood at attention and saluted. Rommel got out of the car and walked up the steps, one by one. He was not walking fast, even a bit slow. The last time he had come here was four months ago. At that time, he had been ordered to form the Afrika Korps, and he had come here in high spirits. Now, he had been recalled from the African front by the Führer, but with a touch of the desolation of a poor commander.
“General Rommel, the Führer is waiting for you in the reception room,” Rommel was surprised to see Anna in the hall on the first floor. It was clear that this secretary to the Führer had been sent by Akado to welcome him. As the Führer’s “woman,” she did not have the habit of waiting for people on the first floor of the Führer’s residence.
Rommel, of course, knew Anna, and they were old acquaintances. They had both known the current Führer when he was young and could be considered “old friends.” It was just that one of them had always stayed by the Führer’s side, while the other had been sent out to become a military commander.
“Miss Anna. Thank you for personally coming to greet me,” Rommel said, patting the dust from his uniform. After all, this general’s service dress had been worn for a day on the African front and had accompanied him all the way to Berlin. The Iron Cross hung from his collar, making him look heroic and extraordinary.
The two exchanged a few pleasantries, then walked, one after the other, towards a reception room on the third floor. The major from the General Staff was waiting in the security room on the first floor, smoking. He would have to take Rommel back to his residence later. The next day, there would be a briefing on the situation on the African front and Rommel’s own report on the state of the Afrika Korps.
Knock, knock, knock. Anna knocked on the door of the reception room. Akado’s voice came from inside. “Come in.”
When Rommel followed Anna into the room and saw Akado, he couldn’t help but be taken aback. And Akado was also slightly stunned when he saw Rommel. The reason Rommel was stunned was that Akado was actually wearing very casual, homely clothes. And Akado was stunned because of the sand-covered uniform on Rommel.
“I ordered you to come back immediately. I didn’t expect them to be in such a hurry,” Akado was the first to break the silence between the two. He pointed to the wine glasses on the table and said apologetically, “Have a rest, have a drink?”
Rommel didn’t know what to say, so he sat down on the sofa and took a light sip from his glass. Perhaps because he was really tired from the long journey, he looked at Akado, and only after the whiskey had been flowing in his stomach for a few minutes did his face regain some color.
“I hear that in Africa, you often travel in your command car and often don’t eat on time. Erwin… you’ve had that stomach problem for some time now. Can’t you take better care of yourself?” Akado said softly. He called Rommel by his first name, Erwin, which sounded very affectionate.
The Führer even knows I have a stomach problem. It seems the all-pervasiveness of the German intelligence service is really not just a boast. Rommel gave a wry smile in his heart, not knowing how to answer the Führer in front of him.
Akado, as if seeing through Rommel’s resentment, smiled and pointed a finger at him. “You, your wife, when she was chatting with Mercedes, was constantly complaining about how I was torturing you, sending you to the harsh Africa, which made your stomach problem worse… Do I need to send people to monitor you? Is there anything you don’t write in your letters to your wife?”
Rommel was suddenly enlightened and laughed in embarrassment. “We are apart more than we are together. I can only write more letters to tell her about my recent situation.”
“Then why do you think Mercedes always asks your wife to come and talk to her? If the Führer’s wife wants someone to talk to, will there be no one to accompany her?” Akado glanced at Anna and leaned back on the sofa. “I regard you as my trusted confidant, my direct subordinate. And you repay me with insubordination and making trouble?”
“My Führer, it is Rommel who is incompetent,” Rommel said, hearing Akado’s question. He knew that a scolding was inevitable today. He and Akado were about the same age, and he was even a bit older, but every time he saw Akado, he had the illusion of being looked down upon by an elder. He knew that everything he had came from the Führer in front of him, and that this Führer had been exceptionally generous to him.
“You are not incompetent. You are just too eager to prove yourself,” Akado said, raising a hand to interrupt Rommel’s self-reproach. “I will give you the opportunity to prove yourself, and I will also give you the time to prove yourself. But as a friend, I have made Friederici your shield, for you to wield that sharp sword, in the hope that you can achieve your own great deeds in North Africa.”
“Yes, sir!” Rommel said, bowing his head. He knew that Akado was doing this for his own good, and he also heard the expectation in Akado’s voice. He felt even more that his rash actions had gone against Akado’s wishes and was determined to fight a great victory to dedicate to the Third Reich.
“Recently, you must stabilize the situation in North Africa. Use the qualitative advantage of our panzer forces to fight small-scale, short-duration encounter battles. Take what you can get and accumulate small victories into a big one!” Akado said, standing up. “Don’t think about Tobruk, and certainly don’t think about a large-scale offensive! I will prepare the supplies for you. At that time, you will have a real armored offensive! Conserve your strength, and win the truly decisive battle. That is what you must do! Understand?”
“Understood, my Führer!” Rommel also stood up and continued to nod in agreement.
“When you return to the front, don’t say anything. I will not touch your command authority, but you are not to exercise it for the time being. Be a transparent person for a while and leave the defensive matters to Friederici,” Akado said after a thought. “His offense may not be as sharp as yours, but in defense and in general small-scale combat, he is very capable.”
“You’re not touching my command authority?” Rommel was taken aback. The last time, you didn’t touch his command authority, and this time you still won’t? Does the Führer really think that highly of his command ability in North Africa?
“I did not recall you twice before because I was waiting, waiting for the day you would become the Desert Fox, for the moment you would become the god of desert warfare!” Akado said with a smile. “Don’t make me wait too long!”
Published: 2025-09-04T04:02:05.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2025-12-18T18:18:10.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c542-apology-138089240
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