Chapter 778: Victory Parade

The car moved forward, inch by inch, through the crowd. A single line of SS soldiers separated the fervent people of Ukraine from Akado, but although the Ukrainians were wildly shouting and cheering for the Führer, no one crossed that security line. They were afraid of causing trouble for the Führer, just as they were afraid of ruining their master’s floor with their own dirty shoes.

The German army had purchased Ukrainian grain at market prices and had improved the country’s industrialization. The entire railway and road network of Ukraine had long since been integrated with the standards of Romania and Poland. Coupled with the hearts and minds of the people, their integration into the German Third Reich was almost effortless. In just three months, the German Imperial Mark had replaced the ruble as the currency circulating throughout the entire Ukrainian region, a clear indication of Ukraine’s acceptance of the German occupation.

Because the Soviet Union had carried out bloody purges and suppression against the local people of Ukraine during the years of famine and the Great Purge, the anti-Soviet sentiment here had a long history. The German army had entered this land as liberators. They had slipped into the role very naturally. Under Akado’s restraint, a scene of harmonious coexistence was everywhere.

The cheap goods obtained from the exploitation of a part of Poland, such as ironware and daily necessities, had almost no cost. But these things were precisely what Ukraine was in dire need of. Germany had used these goods to exchange for a large amount of the local hidden grain reserves and had also pre-ordered more agricultural products for the spring harvest.

The free trade and fair dealing advocated by the capitalist market had given the local economy of Ukraine, which was mainly agricultural, a taste of the sweetness of a complementary economic circulation. The local people had quickly obtained 3,000 agricultural production machines, such as cars and tractors, and even 20 biplanes for spraying pesticides. The locals had been provided with loans by the German government to get through the most difficult period of the war. The grain in their fields had been bought up at a high price by large German companies before it was even harvested. This was something that was hard to imagine in the Soviet era.

Amidst the military music and the cheers of the people, Akado smiled and raised his right hand. This German salute was now the most terrifying gesture in the eyes of the King of England and the President of the United States. During the National Congress of the Greater German Party, the raised right arms in the entire German Square had been as magnificent as a forest. This was a forest of steel forged from a united will, which terrified all who were its enemies.

As Akado raised his arm, the SS soldiers on both sides of the road followed suit. They looked at their Führer with fanatical eyes. This man had led them to be invincible. This man, even in an occupied foreign country, was a being to be worshipped. This man was their Führer, the god in their hearts.

They raised their arms and began to shout, and were immediately answered by all the Ukrainians in the streets and alleys of Kiev. They all followed suit and raised their arms. And so, the phrase that was a household name in Germany, a customary greeting, “Heil Akado Rudolph, our Führer!”, thundered through the skies of Kiev.

No one would dare to do anything to such a beloved leader in such a magnificent scene. Anyone who dared to raise their hand and raise a gun would probably be pinned to the ground by the angry crowd. This was a victory of public opinion, a true test of where the hearts and minds of the people lay.

Although Akado’s car was moving slowly, it finally arrived safely at the viewing stand. He slowly got out of the car and smiled, nodding to the dignitaries and military officers on both sides. Then he walked step by step towards the central position. Everything was as it should be. That position belonged only to him.

Marshal Vlasov, the “friend of Ukraine” with his big glasses, stood on the viewing stand and saluted Akado from a great distance. In the past few months, he had put a great deal of effort into forming the “Armed Forces of the Ukrainian Province of the Holy Greater German Third Reich.” Because of his existence, the number of Ukrainian vassal troops had once reached and exceeded 300,000. If it weren’t for the Army General Staff’s worry about a shortage of weapons, there might have been 400,000 Ukrainians fighting for the Third Reich by now.

This Vlasov was an absolute talent. While forming that long-named Ukrainian armed force, he had actually come up with a set of basic theories against Stalin’s autocracy in the Soviet Union. With this theory, he had successfully recruited 50,000 ethnic Russian volunteers in the Soviet prisoner-of-war camps. These men had already begun to act as “supervisors” in Poland, guarding the other recalcitrant and uncooperative Soviet prisoners of war.

Therefore, this Vlasov had been promoted to Marshal. But which country’s marshal he was, only God and Akado would know. But Vlasov’s current rank was indeed that of a marshal. It was just that this marshal, when facing the powerful generals of the German Wehrmacht, was so submissive he was no better than a German lieutenant general.

Of course, compared to another timeline, where Vlasov had never had any real power, could only give some speeches, and had languished in a concentration camp until he was released to bite people just as the war was about to be lost, the Vlasov of this timeline could be said to be in heaven.

Akado walked to Vlasov’s side and shook hands with the surrendered Soviet general with a smile. This scene of the German and Soviet peoples as one family made the scene even more fervent. White doves flew up from the square, and the people of Ukraine were thanking Akado for bringing them peace with their most enthusiastic applause.

“My Führer! The 1st Ukrainian Army is ready and waiting, and can contribute its strength to your Eastern Front strategy at any time! As long as you give us enough ammunition, enough cannons, we can capture Minsk and march on Smolensk,” Vlasov said, standing by Akado’s side, waiting for the Führer to take his seat first. He had made this suggestion at this time to seize an opportunity for the frighteningly numerous Ukrainian armed forces under his command to achieve meritorious service.

“Marshal Vlasov, do not be anxious. The Wehrmacht has already been arming your 1st Ukrainian Army according to a plan, and their equipment is already very fine,” Akado replied to Vlasov, while watching his own military confidants take their seats one by one. “They will be thrown into battle. For example, the High Command has recently been planning to have your troops act as the main force in the battle to encircle Kharkov.”

“I am deeply grateful, my Führer! I will certainly do my utmost to fight this battle well and to show you the heroic bearing of the Ukrainian armed forces,” Vlasov quickly stood up and promised. This was his breakthrough to make a name for himself and to secure a place for himself within the German Wehrmacht. He had to muster all his spirit to seize such an important opportunity.

Akado nodded, signaled the turncoat general to come closer, and then said in a volume only the two of them could hear, “I trust you, because you only have one chance. Seize it well, and do not disappoint me… Go.” Speaking of which, he waved his hand, dismissing Vlasov back to his own position.

Vlasov bowed his head and retreated. He himself knew very well that even if everyone else were to surrender, he had no room to do so. In the concentration camp, he had personally and indirectly executed a large number of mid- and high-ranking Soviet commanders, had used every means to capture and torture thousands of partisans, and because of his suggestions, tens of thousands of Soviet prisoners had been cruelly killed. He was now the most hated target of the Soviets in the entire German camp, even more so than Akado himself.

The military music continued to play. Manstein, the frontline commander who had won a great victory in Crimea, walked up to the viewing stand. Because today was a parade to celebrate his victory, he was naturally arranged to be by the side of the Führer, Akado. He walked to his seat, then raised his arm and saluted. “Heil Akado Rudolph, our Führer!”

“At ease, my general. You have performed very well in Crimea. Because of your victory, the situation is now very favorable for us,” Akado said with a smile, signaling Manstein to sit down. He then continued, “Most of the fortresses in the entire Crimean region have surrendered without a fight. This was truly unexpected for me.”

Manstein quickly replied, “This is because the various army groups fought so well in the second phase of the Battle of Poland. Not only did they annihilate the effective strength of the Soviet army, but they also created an isolated Crimea, which saved me a lot of trouble.”

“Don’t be so modest. I will certainly not forget your merits. I am handing the Caucasus region over to you. I hope you will not disappoint me,” Akado said, watching the parade troops march past the street while speaking to Manstein. “Rest and refit your troops, then first deal with Donetsk with Guderian’s forces. Then, according to the plan, advance on the Caucasus.”

“Yes! My Führer!” Manstein wanted to stand up and salute.

His action was stopped by Akado. “Alright, let’s watch the parade together. I even designed the next part of the program myself. Fanny said it was very good. You should see it too. I’m showing off, hehehe.”

“My Führer, you are a man of all talents. This has already been proven. Without a doubt, you are the soul of the Third Reich. I am willing to follow in your footsteps for my entire life,” Manstein said. His skill in flattery was no less than his command ability. His words made Akado feel secretly pleased—to be praised by Germany’s foremost strategic master was a really good feeling.

The main event finally began. Amidst the majestic military music, the German honor guard, in their neat, long dress uniforms, goose-stepped with an imposing air towards the viewing stand. In each of their hands, they held a battle standard of the Soviet Red Army. The few men at the head were even holding front-level flags. These battle standards were all being dragged upside down on the ground. The German soldiers, holding these flags upside down, walked towards the center of the road, towards a raging fire.

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