Chapter 625: The Intelligence Gap
In the Soviet Union, inside the Western Front’s General Headquarters, Zhukov had just gotten up and was washing his face. This commander, who had originally been atoning for his mistakes on the Soviet Far East front, had now become the commander-in-chief of the entire Soviet Western Front. Every one of his orders would be faithfully executed, because after the Great Purge, Soviet officers and soldiers no longer had the courage to question any decision made by a superior.
So, the current Zhukov could be said to have great power in his hands. The army under his command was also somewhat stronger than the Soviet forces that had suffered a devastating blow a few months earlier. Although the frontline troops had lost over half their strength in a few months, the Soviet Union’s powerful replenishment rate had quickly brought their numbers back to pre-war levels.
Furthermore, these units were equipped with a full 300 T-34 tanks, as well as a large number of KV-1 and KV-2 tanks. Although the latter two types were no longer in production, because Stalin had personally intervened in Soviet tank production, these tanks, while obsolete, still had a large stockpile. Thus, the frontline Soviet forces had no choice but to continue using these two outdated tanks, and they used over 2,000 of them. Combined with the vast number of T-26 tanks, the Soviet Union still outnumbered the German panzer divisions in tanks, and their quality had partially improved.
“How is the equipping of the Stalin tank going? I had you keep an eye on that. Tell me your thoughts,” Zhukov asked his aide, a middle-aged colonel, while wiping his face.
The colonel, of course, had not ignored his superior’s words. He had indeed been monitoring the production of the Stalin tank recently; after all, it was a super tank named after the great leader. He took a step forward and quickly replied, “Comrade Commander, 15 of the tanks named after Comrade Leader have been produced. Most of them were hand-assembled by workers in the workshops. After all, our technology for producing heavy weapons is not yet very mature.”
In fact, the equipment for producing the Stalin tank was already in place, but because the steel mills near the Ural Mountains were slow to start operations, Soviet steel output had seen a significant decline in 1938, which also restricted the speed of Soviet tank production.
Unfortunately, the person in charge of steel production had originally been one of Khrushchev’s confidants. After the incident where Khrushchev retreated to the Crimean Peninsula, these confidants were all disposed of by Stalin for various reasons. Now, the management of steel production was a complete mess. No one could take over for a time, and to this day, no one has been able to restore it.
Hearing his aide’s report, Zhukov still nodded in satisfaction. Right now, he was more concerned with the technologically mature T-34 tank, which was produced in imitation of the German Panther. After all, this tank had already been used in actual combat. Although its performance was very average, it was the perfect replacement for the countless T-26 tanks. After all, with over ten thousand T-26s, it was impossible to replace them all with expensive Stalin tanks.
Zhukov had not been in a good mood recently. His plan to counter-attack the German army in the autumn had been rejected by Stalin. Stalin now favored the Stalin tank, which had a low production rate and a complex manufacturing process. He hoped the Red Army could wait until later and launch a counter-attack after being equipped with the new tanks.
This was the origin of the Soviet winter counter-offensive plan, and the fundamental reason why the German army dared to detach some of its forces for a tour of the Balkans. But to wait for hundreds of Stalin tanks to enter service would mean waiting until winter at least. And if winter arrived as expected, the difficulties facing the Red Army would not be much less than those facing the Germans.
At the very least, from the reports sent back by some Soviet spies embedded in Germany, Zhukov had found evidence that the German army was preparing for winter. For example, he found an intelligence report indicating that the Germans were using about 3,000 prisoners of war for logging to prepare charcoal for winter consumption. Although the charcoal produced by 3,000 logging slaves was not even enough for one corps, who knew how many concentration camps there were in all of Poland? And how much charcoal these camps could provide was an incalculable mystery.
But factoring in the stockpiling of ammunition and the storage of winter clothing, Zhukov had no fewer than 20 pieces of intelligence indicating the Germans were preparing for winter. From his perspective as a veteran of many campaigns, since the enemy was already preparing for winter, it was definitely unwise to expect a winter offensive to be effective.
And so, just a few days ago, Zhukov had once again risked Stalin’s displeasure and sent another telegram. He hoped to take advantage of the rainy season in the autumn to attack the German defense line, to be the first to break the stalemate, and to at least occupy the outskirts of Kiev, from where they could shell the city to prevent the Germans from using its factories to modify and repair tanks.
But before a wavering Stalin could give the word, the Soviet Air Force came out and rejected Zhukov’s proposal. Because America needed to thwart the Japanese invasion in the Pacific, the 150 P-40 fighters that were supposed to be provided to the Soviet Union were all held back in Las Vegas and put into service as air defense forces there.
Without new equipment and unable to get replacements, the Soviet Air Force refused to provide any air support for Zhukov. He could only give up his plan to attack the Germans in the autumn and resign himself to preparing for a “war that both sides anticipated” in the winter.
Recently, a German ace pilot had emerged, flying the damn newest long-nose Fw-190 fighter. It was said that the plane was not the Fw-200 model that Soviet intelligence had speculated, but had a new designation, the Ta-152, with performance so good it was unbelievable. It would not be an exaggeration to call it the strongest fighter.
And that fellow, nicknamed the “Black Tulip Death God,” had actually shot down 104 Soviet fighter planes. For a time, Soviet pilots’ faces would pale at the mention of that patch of sky. Some even said that if they were ordered to fly there, they would rather go dig mines in Siberia than take off on a combat mission.
The nose of this damn German pilot’s plane was painted with a black tulip. No one knew who this person was, but few Soviet pilots who saw this plane ever returned alive. Even the occasional lucky one who escaped came back babbling nonsense.
Thinking of this, Zhukov waved his hand at his deputy, indicating he could leave. He then walked to his desk and began to carefully read the documents that had been delivered that morning. These files contained all sorts of information, even German newspapers from two days ago, which carried various news from the German side.
Zhukov didn’t understand German, but the newspapers provided to him came with a translated text. He just needed to read them side-by-side. The original was brought along only so he could look at the pictures.
At the same time as Zhukov was opening his newspaper, Akado was also opening a newspaper. The difference was that his was from that same day, not the two-day-old version Zhukov had. He sipped his coffee and carefully read the contents. In fact, due to the time difference, Akado, near Warsaw, was naturally up earlier than Zhukov in Minsk.
And not far from Akado’s desk lay a document from the intelligence department. This document was used to corroborate the timing of the Soviet military’s offensive; it was a top-secret, high-level piece of intelligence. In Germany, fewer than five people knew its contents. In the military, perhaps only Marshal von Brauchitsch knew the exact contents of this file.
German intelligence work had started early, used advanced methods, and was all-pervasive. This was inseparable from Akado’s early arrangements within the Reichswehr. The German army valued intelligence, and naturally, it also valued the security of that intelligence. Therefore, high-level spies like “Beggar,” “Poison,” and “Beehive” reported directly to Gascoigne and Akado. Ordinary people had no access to them—this was one of the ways to protect them. Akado had always treated intelligence personnel well, which was another important reason for the astonishing success of German intelligence work.
This piece of intelligence came from “Beehive.” If Zhukov saw its contents, he would surely be shocked. The information showed that the Soviet Union was currently producing the 19th and 20th Stalin tanks, and the latest one, number 18, had already left the workshop and was ready to be delivered to the troops. Compared to Zhukov’s own information, this German intelligence was even more detailed than what the Soviets themselves knew.
With the corroboration of this document, the German High Command came to the correct conclusion. The facts proved that the Soviet Union was indeed not preparing to launch an offensive in the autumn. The earliest attack would likely be on November 15th, and could even be postponed until around Christmas. Moreover, this offensive plan came from Stalin’s supreme command; not even Zhukov had the authority to change it.
“Send an encrypted telegram to Krupp and August. Use… use the highest-level Führer cipher,” Akado said after a moment’s thought. “Have them prioritize the shipment of ammunition produced by several companies in Italy and France to North Africa, to support Rommel in finishing the Egyptian campaign first.”
“Yes!” Anna took the signed document from Akado, checked it carefully for any issues, and then turned with a smile and walked out.
As she reached the door, Akado suddenly called out to her. “Wait a minute. Also, use the civilian mail channel to send a personal letter to Mercedes. Ask her how Little Caesar is doing. You can think of the specific content for me, write it, and then read it to me!”
“My Führer, I was afraid that by the time you remembered, Little Caesar would already be calling for his mommy,” Anna laughed. “The day before yesterday, I already wrote a letter to Sister Mercedes in your name. Her reply might arrive in Warsaw tomorrow. You just wait and see how she scolds you! My… dear!”
Akado was taken aback, then a wry smile appeared on his face…
Published: 2025-09-12T04:00:38.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2026-01-27T16:07:27.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c625-gap-138711753
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