Chapter 726: Good News, Bad News

In mid-January of 1939, two pieces of good news came from the distant battlefield. The first was that Rommel, after a siege of 20 days in North Africa, had captured the Egyptian capital of Cairo without a fight. The mysterious and ancient land of Egypt was now, on this day, almost entirely flying the German swastika flag.

The direct impact of this good news on Germany was significant. For example, Akado, as the Führer, had to fulfill his promise and bestow the rank of Field Marshal of the German Army upon a third general. And Rommel, on this day, was summoned back to Germany by a telegram.

The only difference was that because the war on the Eastern Front was very tense, Rommel was ordered to fly to the Führer’s headquarters at the Wolf’s Lair, not Berlin, to receive his First Class Army Command Medal and the marshal’s baton that represented the supreme power of the military.

On the plane, Rommel listened to the Third Reich’s foreign radio broadcast boasting about him. The loudspeakers repeated endless music, and a sweet female voice, in a standard, measured tone, recounted the merits of the Empire’s third Field Marshal, Rommel.

It seemed that none of his achievements had been forgotten by the world. On the contrary, his every feat had become a heroic legend that everyone talked about after meals. For example, the Blitzkrieg in Poland, where Rommel had first shown his prowess as a general. His armored units had captured several cities in the north in one go, and the Polish defense line had collapsed in an instant due to his offensive.

And the battlefield where he had truly made his name was in France. There, he had advanced dozens of kilometers a day, defeating the main French armored forces in one fell swoop. He and Guderian, side by side, had encircled the main body of the Anglo-French forces at Dunkirk, creating the most favorable conditions for Germany’s victory over France.

Subsequently, he had campaigned in North Africa, fighting his way through hardships, and had finally laid the foundation for the victory of the German-Italian joint forces. He had advanced on Alexandria and had fulfilled the Führer’s entrustment to him. Now, the German flag was already flying over Cairo, and the situation in North Africa was stable. All that was left was to capture the Suez, a task that even a fool could accomplish.

Unsurprisingly, when Rommel stepped off the plane, the airfield at the Wolf’s Lair was already filled with people who had come to welcome him. Some were reporters from the Empire, others were his retinue sent by the military to receive him. A long line of generals and field-grade officers stood for a hundred meters, and the gangway at the foot of his plane led directly to a red carpet that stretched all the way to a car.

“Attention! Heil Akado Rudolph, our Führer!” everyone shouted, snapping to attention. Although the German army was secretly divided into two factions, the Führer’s faction and the traditionalist faction, all the commanders showed their heartfelt admiration for the Führer’s procedure for promoting a field marshal. Akado was not the same as Hitler. Unlike Hitler, who had lavishly promoted field marshals to buy people’s hearts, Akado, who came from a military background, did not need to do so. He had established very strict rules for promotion to field marshal and rarely nominated generals for promotion.

Therefore, every soldier who received the rank of field marshal was sincerely respected by everyone. The baton, which represented the highest power of a German soldier, was enough to make the soldiers of all factions bow in reverence. These men were true gods of war, military bigwigs who could stand on their own.

And it was precisely for this reason that everyone stood at attention, raised their right hands to Rommel, and gave a standard German salute. Rommel walked down the gangway and waved to the people who had come to welcome him. His uniform was still covered in sand, which made him look a little scruffy. But he was in a very good mood, smiling and nodding to everyone as he walked through the crowd and got into the car heading for the Wolf’s Lair.

“My Field Marshal! You have not disappointed my expectations. So after I heard you had captured Cairo, I have been waiting for this moment!” Akado stood at the entrance of the Wolf’s Lair. For him to personally come out to welcome Rommel was a rare honor. At least in Rommel’s view, he himself was a god of war forged by Akado’s own hands. Even as a god of war, he was still a god of war under Akado’s command.

He walked towards Akado, patting his uniform as he went. No one on the way had been able to make him tidy his appearance, but at this moment, without anyone reminding him, he nervously patted the dust from his body, like a young man about to meet his sweetheart, his face filled with anxiety.

Walking up to Akado, he brought his legs together, his heels clicking together with a crisp sound as he came to attention. Then this commander-in-chief of the German-Italian Afrika Korps, who had the final say in North Africa, raised his right hand in a German salute that was as standard as it could be. He was so devout that the people around him felt a little ashamed, feeling that their own salutes were perfunctory in comparison.

“My Führer! Erwin Rommel, Commander-in-Chief of the Afrika Korps, reporting!” Rommel stood before Akado and announced loudly.

“My Field Marshal! You can call yourself a Field Marshal now. Although my ceremony has not yet begun, the broadcast has already announced to the world that you are a Field Marshal of the Third Reich,” Akado said with a smile, patting Rommel on the shoulder happily.

“My Führer, in your presence, Rommel will always be that loyal subordinate. Regardless of whether I am a colonel, a major general, a lieutenant general, or a general, or a field marshal. I am always the same as when I first took over the formation of the 26th Cavalry Division, your most loyal Erwin,” Rommel replied, his head held high.

Akado was taken aback for a moment, then sighed with some emotion. “Time… in a flash, ten years have passed. We are no longer young. I have many brave and loyal warriors by my side, but I really don’t have many friends. You are one of them…”

Due to the location, the ceremony was not very grand, but Field Marshal von Brauchitsch attended as a representative of the military. Also attending the ceremony were 4 generals, 11 lieutenant generals, and 19 major generals. When Rommel received the marshal’s baton, which represented power and honor, from Akado’s hands, applause broke out.

The second piece of news that reached the German Wolf’s Lair was not so exciting for the Empire. This news was that, after a fierce battle, the Japanese Navy had lost its strategic initiative in the Pacific theater. The battle for Kauai had ended in a victory for the U.S. Navy and Army, and the Japanese Navy and Army had ultimately withdrawn from this area.

Marshal Yamamoto Isoroku had used every trick up his sleeve, but he could only retreat to the waters of Midway with the remnants of the Combined Fleet. Although the main warships of the fleet had not suffered many losses, the loss of carrier fighter pilots made this Japanese naval marshal, who was already feeling the strain of being overextended, see his own doom.

The Zero fighter had made the Japanese pilots pay a heavy price for its extreme design. This plane, which had a high probability of catching fire and exploding in the air once hit, was no different from a lighter. This method of pursuing performance at the cost of compromising the aircraft’s structural strength had pushed Japan’s precious pilot resources to the brink of collapse.

At the beginning of the war, the Japanese Navy had about 1,400 experienced pilots. At this time, due to the war of attrition with the United States, they had already lost more than 500. This blow was unbearable for the Japanese Naval Air Force and had also reduced the overall combat strength of the Japanese Navy to a worrying level.

Although Yamamoto Isoroku had preserved the core of the Combined Fleet, he had lost a large amount of its blood. This made the Combined Fleet suddenly discover that its strongest trump card, the Naval Air Force, was no longer usable. All that was left was its proud battleship force. At this time, the Japanese battleships still had a certain advantage over the United States, but Yamamoto himself knew that this advantage was not very reliable in use.

The good news was that the Japanese Army had finally realized the importance of Midway and had transferred about 200 army aviation fighters and bombers, attempting to cooperate with the navy to fight a defensive counter-attack at Midway and wear down the U.S. Navy’s strength. Unfortunately, the experience of cooperation between the army and navy air arms was basically zero, so in the end, it was decided that it would be easier for each to fight its own battle.

The battlefield could fall silent, and the front line could be stabilized, but the lost forces needed time to be replenished. And what the Japanese Navy was now lacking was time. The precious pilot trainees of the Japanese Naval Air Force had not yet completed their studies before they were hastily pulled onto the battlefield. These pilots could only perform basic flight maneuvers, and their overall skill was about the same as that of the Soviet pilots. On the battlefield, they could only be considered rookies, targets for the Americans to slaughter.

But the Japanese did not lack the courage to die, nor did they lack a reason to die. And so, these few trainees were transferred to the battlefield and assigned to Marshal Yamamoto Isoroku, who was short of fighter pilots. Looking at these young faces that had just arrived at Midway, Yamamoto felt that his war was over, completely over.

Unfortunately, the war would not end just because of Yamamoto’s will. It had to be the Americans who said it was over before it was truly over. Helplessly, Yamamoto could only allocate a batch of precious aviation gasoline to let these new trainees practice a few more times before the big battle, so that they could preserve their young lives in the cruel war.

“Sato-kun, do you think these pilots can play a role in turning the tide in the upcoming decisive battle?” Admiral Nagumo Chuichi asked, his hands on the hilt of his officer’s sword, as he looked at the ace pilot, Sato, who was standing beside him with his arm still in a sling.

Sato had been wounded in the last air battle, the final one over Kauai. The bullets that had hit his plane had luckily not hit any load-bearing structures, only passing through his arm. So although he was wounded, he had still managed to fly his plane out of the battle, luckily saving his own life.

Published: 2025-09-22T03:35:48.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2026-03-15T18:37:48.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c726-good-139443878

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