Chapter 879: History is a Little Girl

“Heil Akado Rudolph, my Führer!” An SS officer stood at attention before Akado, extended his arm, and gave a standard German salute. “My Führer, the Far East operation codenamed ‘Leak’ has been completed. We arranged for a fringe agent who was about to be exposed to leak the intelligence to the Japanese.”

“Very good. The SS intelligence department has done a good job on this matter,” Akado nodded, then, as if remembering something, asked, “Have the Americans and the Soviets gotten involved? Our operation won’t be interfered with by them, will it?”

“The observation team has not detected any Soviet intelligence personnel approaching our operational area. The plan should not have aroused the vigilance of the Soviet counter-intelligence organization,” the SS officer said, his chin held high, incomparably proud of being a member of the world’s most powerful intelligence organization. The German intelligence department had been established before 1922 and was, to this day, the most systematic and intensive agency for deploying spies in other countries. The Americans and the British had still not figured out the operational scale of the German spy agencies, and their counter-intelligence work was in a difficult situation.

There is a saying that goes, “In war, the first to die are the spies; in a campaign, the first to die are the scouts.” The German spies had paid a heavy price for the German army’s invincibility on the main front. About 7,000 German spies had been killed in action by hostile countries, and another 10,000 were missing or had been confirmed arrested.

But the victories they had achieved had made these sacrifices very worthwhile. To this day, the German army had, for the most part, been operating with maps drawn by spies. The facts proved that these maps were quite accurate. Almost all the war theaters, including France and the Soviet Union, had been thoroughly scouted by German spies before the war.

Moreover, among the German intelligence personnel, a large number of super-aces such as “Gray Wolf,” “Poison,” “Beggar,” and “Beehive” had emerged. These people fought for their motherland in foreign lands and had contributed greatly to the rise of the Third Reich.

Thinking of these spies, Akado would feel a twinge of sadness every time. He had once shaken hands with “Poison,” who had gone to Britain. At that time, “Poison” was still a middle-aged uncle, and he, Akado, was still a young colonel. By the time he heard of “Poison’s” death, “Poison” had not seen his own motherland for more than twenty years.

When “Poison” left, Germany was a pile of rubble. When “Poison” closed his eyes in Canada, Germany’s highway ratio was the first in the world, and its big cities were a scene of prosperity and beauty. But in the martyrs’ cemetery on the outskirts of Berlin, “Poison’s” coffin contained only a major general’s uniform of the SS. Akado didn’t know if “Poison” was pitiful or happy.

“Alright! We’ve done what we can. Now it’s up to the Japanese to see just how foolish they are. If they take the bait, then we will lose fewer soldiers. Of course, if they don’t… then it just means our enemies are getting smarter,” Akado said, waving his hand to dismiss the officer. He then picked up a document on the desk and began to review it.

Field Marshal von Brauchitsch, who had been sitting on the side without speaking all this time, now spoke up. “My Führer, the Japanese army’s disastrous defeat at Imphal, in this situation, the British have stabilized their eastern defense line in India, so they have transferred one regiment of Indian infantry to the Middle East to assist the American army. The situation doesn’t seem to be very beneficial for us.”

“Indeed!” Akado nodded in reply to his Field Marshal’s question. “But from a long-term perspective, we have a chance to weaken the Soviet Union and also to win over China in the Far East—this is beneficial for the Empire’s post-war international layout.”

Then Akado continued, “The Japanese army in China is no different from a wild beast. This is a regression of human civilization. Their actions will be brought to justice later on. We have an obligation to bring those butchers to justice.”

“My Führer, with all due respect, our methods in some areas of the Polish province are not much better than the atrocities of the Japanese army in China,” Brauchitsch said, shaking his head at Akado. He had never been in favor of implementing a cruel policy in the occupied territories. Fortunately, most of Germany’s occupied territories were implementing a relatively mild occupation policy.

After hearing this, Akado laughed heartily, then nodded in agreement with his Field Marshal’s words. “War turns people into demons. Me, you, and everyone of our generation are already demons who kill without blinking an eye. And our next generation will become the masters of the greatest country in this world. This is our persistence, this is everything we are fighting for!”

Seeing Brauchitsch looking at him with an approving gaze, Akado continued, “So, after we lose, no matter what we say or do, it will be wrong, and we will all be hanged on the gallows. But if we win, then those who resist us will be guilty—history is a little girl, to be dressed up in a pretty way by the victor, right?”

“Yes, my Führer! History will be written by us!” Brauchitsch said, walking towards the outside. “For our descendants, so that they can become the masters of the most powerful country in this world, we, the generals of the army, even if we have to risk our old lives, we must win this war.”

“Because,” he said, turning his head at the door to Akado, “last time we lost, and this time we can’t afford to lose again. If we fail one more time, there will be no more Germany in this world, no more Germanic nation.”

“As long as I am alive, I will not let that day come,” Akado said loudly to Brauchitsch at the door, putting down the document in his hand. “This country is our mother. As long as we are still breathing, no one can step over our bodies and point fingers at our motherland!”

“Heil Akado Rudolph, my Führer!” Brauchitsch saluted at the door and then respectfully backed out. For this nation, for this country, for the army he loved so deeply, he was willing to do anything. Let alone becoming a demon, even if he were to become the source of all evil, he would not hesitate.

Akado picked up the document in his hand. It was a stack of files for the release of British prisoners of war to work in Belgium and France. These British men were basically all butchers whose hands were stained with blood in the prisoner-of-war camps. Their bloody debts had bought them their freedom now. These men had sold their souls to the demons of the Third Reich and had thus been promoted to accomplices, accomplices in the slaughter of the stubborn Soviet elements.

Some people died, some were liberated through killing. This was Germany’s effective method of releasing prisoners of war. Tens of thousands of prisoners of war had been released after being thoroughly integrated into the Third Reich, and their families had also become trustworthy civilians of the Third Reich.

Relying on these British civilians who could no longer turn back, Germany had repaired the shipyard facilities in important ports like Liverpool. British production was recovering, and its light industries, including animal husbandry, were rapidly reviving under the deliberate support of the Germans. Several of the shipbuilding companies that had resumed production had even received orders from Northern Britain and Vichy France to produce four destroyers as equipment for their naval expansion.

As for most of the ports in France, they had already begun to produce large, old-style U-boats for Germany, as well as Germany’s anti-aircraft destroyers. These submarines were export models for the allied countries, while those destroyers were for the German army’s own use.

The production of iron ore in Norway was steadily increasing under the efforts of the Germans. This iron ore was being turned into transport ships heading for Britain and the Mediterranean, and also into cannons and tanks sent to the Eastern Front. Of course, it was also being turned into brand-new airplanes, becoming the solid foundation of the entire Third Reich.

He threw the document in his hand down and picked up another from another stack, intending to get away from this naked bloodshed and distortion. He achieved his goal. This was a list of raw material imports from Africa. The Germans had used some of the old tanks that the British had abandoned to exchange for a large amount of rubber raw materials from Africa.

This was a profitable deal. Many factories were waiting for these imported rubber raw materials. The expanded German industrial system was like a greedy leech, meticulously dividing up every pound of rice, every pound of steel, every pound of rubber, and every barrel of oil in Germany.

New production lines were already being set up to mass-produce Germany’s latest generation of jet fighters at the Messerschmitt company. The Krupp company had expanded its cannon production lines and was frantically producing 150mm self-propelled howitzers. The Porsche branch factory was churning out King Tiger tanks… It seemed every company had a good enough reason to apply for raw materials, because with every product they produced, it meant they would get more benefits in the future.

Naked capitalism, Akado sighed helplessly. He had not brought any advanced national system to this world, nor had he brought any heaven-defying technology from the future. He could only use one hand to create war, and the other to stir up chaos… In the midst of chaos and pain, he was fighting for a piece of the sky for the country he had lived in for more than twenty years, a blue sky belonging to the Third Reich.

To write a piece of history that he was not familiar with with his own hands, this feeling made Akado excited. Lacking the sense of control he had had in the beginning when he knew everything in advance, to see the infinite possibilities of the future made Akado even more excited. He wanted to win his own World War II, to lead his beloved German Third Reich to a glorious shore it had never reached before.

“Anna! Give me a massage… I’m going to be up all night. There are just too many things,” Akado said softly to Anna behind him, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes.

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