Holding Out for a Hero: Gustav Stresemann Survives
- Thread starter Faeelin
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Faeelin
Banned
Wolfgang is his son; OTL he ended up as a conductor in America because he couldn't get a job under the Nazis, but here his motivation is a bit more plebian; he doesn't want to live under his father's shadow.
Hmm, here it would not happen so I think that it would depend if in TTL the murdering of Kirov happens, although some theories indicated that was Stalin himself that ordered the murdering, it seems that Stalin reacted with surprise and rage to the news of the murdering, and for the moment the most part of the historians consider that Stalin was no guilt in this death (although Kirov was progressively critic of Stalin, Stalin had another metods to confront this kind of critics if it was necessary, more open, more violent, more clear -a public arrest of Kirov could have trigger some support but while Stalin controlled the KGB all had relatively easy, the Red Army in the other hand remained neutral in these crises, not reacted even with the defenestration of Trotsky that was the only leader that the army could consider one of them).
Kirov murdering rise a lot the paranoid of Stalin, it seems also that the death of his wife Nadezhda had contributed previously to made him more suspicious and closed, these two factors combined made of Stalin definitively an authentic raged paranoid men, the militaries were one of his more prominent victimes but not the last.
If Kirov dies and Nadezhda dies probably we will have some kind of purges against militaries, naturally if there is no dupe from the germans these purges could be less extended than in OTL saving some soviet generals from the death and also the commands of the Red Air Force that were eliminated in a second chain of purges (in fact Jan Alaknis testified against Tuchachevsky in the first chain of purges).
Faeelin
Banned
I don't see any reason for them not to die, do you? So I think they happen.
Fortunately the Red Army has some places to test its weapons...
Thank you, maverick. The next post may be a bit, umm, jarring, since it's a scene from Berlin in 1939...
They could or not die depending of the butterflies, in any case it is perfectly plaussible to arrive in TTL to a similar chain of events that provoke the death of Kirov and Nadezhda.
In this case as I say probably we have some kind of purges but could be not so extended, this means that a part of the of the high officials of the Red Army could survive in TTL and probably a great part of the Red Air Force leaders (and this could very interesting to the soviet intervention against the japanese in TTL in defence of China, I remember that you say in another post of this thread that soviet pilots would fight against japanese, if in TTL the Red Air Force not suffer the terrible setback that in OTL it suffered).
An interesting study of the Red Air Force that could be interesting for your TL I would recommend this document http://handle.dtic.mil/100.2/ADA398859
Very, very interesting to know about the soviet military aviation and the views of the soviets about strategic bombing.
Faeelin
Banned
Thanks for the article; it will come in handy. Although aerial warfare will be rather weird, ATL; people spent a lot of the 1930s in this sorta naive "aerial bombardment will never happen, we outlawed it! Huzzah!" belief.
Then came the Japanese invasion of China, and the Spanish Civil War.
But Stalin's wife's death seems pretty determined, to me, given their relationship...
Stalin killing himself in the aftermath would also be interesting, but for a different TL.
Faeelin
Banned
Death and All His Friends
The Reichstag on the Eve of War
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The Reichstag on the Eve of War
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Stresemann looked around the table, where Germany’s finest military minds sat. These days, Stresemann wondered if he’d do fire the lot of them and just invite the French in. “You’re saying we can’t beat the French, Italians, and Poles?”
Beck scowled aback across the table. “Yes, with the pittance you’ve provided, the military would not be capable of any action. It would doom the nation.”
Stresemann’s scowled. “Pittance? You’ve been given millions. Now you’re telling me we would've done better to use it to build swimming pools.”
“Not at all,” replied Beck. “We could easily win a short, limited war. Against Poland, or Czechoslovakia, we would triumph. But your diplomatic bungling has us encircled in a web of foes.”
Stresemann sighed. Maybe he should resign. He could always take a job in the postwar government once these idiots messed it up. Again. “Did you think the rest of Europe would just sit around and smile at the idea of Germany reasserting itself?
Beck made a face. “Perhaps not,” he admitted. “And perhaps they would have, if they were afraid of German steel.”
Stresemann sighed. The military had always given him a hard time, ever since he’d negotiated to get the French out of the Ruhr. He’d supported their illegal rearmament in the 1920s. He’d increased their budget in the early 1930s, even as the rest of Europe had cut back on spending. Now they complained that Stresemann wasn’t leading the nation into a short victorious war, as if they were playing with new toys instead of German lives. Why didn't they understand they were on the same side?
It was enough to make one vote Socialist, really.
Stresemann picked up a paper in front of him, and quoted at length. “France wishes for peace, but in the case of a real threat, the French people, like the German, come together as one. The French army is among the strongest in Europe, and Germany’s situation is worse than that in 1917. Weren’t those your words, General?”
Beck cleared his throat. “Well,” he said after a moment, “I never said I wanted a war with France. But what about our comrades in Poland? What about Danzig?”
Stresemann sighed. “If you are so concerned for them, we shall threaten war.”
Whatever else happened, Stresemann would always enjoy watching Beck’s jaw drop. “But we can’t win.”
“Will you announce publicly that the Reichswehr supports any efforts to solve the Corridor Problem peacefully?”
Beck quickly regained his composure. “The Reichswehr stays out of politics.”
Stresemann stood up. “How convenient you find the courage to stay out of politics when it requires firmness."
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Katherine trudged back home to her family’s apartment. A good student, a leader in the German Youth, and upon graduation she scrounged for a job in a Berlin department store like everyone else. There were times when she regretted not going to college, but how could she, with no one but her mother to take care of the family? She stopped at a poster somebody had put on a wall near her house, warning about the dangers of air raids. There were bigger problems these days, anyway.
“God in Heaven,” she muttered. “Will I have to walk back in the dark each night?” The streets were quiet, she noticed. It was surprising; most of the neighborhood was too poor to flee to the country. Her stomach wrenched. Had she missed an announcement? Were they at war already? She shrugged and kept walking.
When she got to her apartment, she stopped in her tracks. A tall soldier was leaning awkwardly against the side of her building, smoking a cigarette and reading a book. It took her a moment to recognize him. “Heinrich,” she whispered. “You too?”
Heinrich blinked behind his thick glasses and dropped the book. “Ah, hi!” he said brightly. “How have you been?”
Katherine frowned. “Well enough, all things considering. I got a job at Wertheim’s.” She pointed at the cigarette on the ground. “You do know that’s a woman’s brand, right?”
Heinrich was silent for a moment. Then he smiled and said, “Well, you know how it is when you’re a soldier. You’ve got to smoke whatever you can!” He shrugged awkwardly. “I thought I would come and see you, before I get deployed.”
Katherine nodded. There wasn’t much else to say, really. “Where?”
He looked around, then laughed. “What’s it matter if I tell you?” he asked. “I will be part of the liberation of the Corridor.”
She bit her lip. “Would you like to come up?”
As they climbed the rickety stairs of the apartment, she shook her head. Adolf had been taken by influenza before she’d been born. How would he have looked in a uniform? Heinrich looked around, a bit bemused as much as anything else. “I don’t believe I have seen your apartment before.” He looked around, noticing cracked paint on the wall, and faded wallpaper. “How’s your brother doing?”
“Well enough,” she said. “He wants to join the Shield Brothers, like everyone else.” In the hallway they could hear the noise of families, of people listening to the radio or finishing dinner. She opened her door, smiling as she entered. “Mother, we have company.”
The volume was lowered on the radio, and her mother walked out of the kitchen. A stout woman with graying brown hair walked into the apartment’s living room. She frowned for a moment, and then smiled. “Mother, this is Heinrich.”
Her mother looked at the uniform, and nodded. “So you’re off to war?”
Heinrich nodded. “In a fashion. I’m going to serve as a medic.”
She took that in for a moment, and nodded. “At least somebody will be trying to save life, instead of destroying it.” She looked at the two of them again, and put on a coat. “I’m going to church.”
“So late, Frau Bach?” asked Heinrich.
“God always listens,” she responded. “And maybe this time he will answer our prayers for peace.”
“Would you like an escort?”
Frau Bach smiled, and Katherine remembered how her mother had once been beautiful. “No thank you Heinrich, I will be fine.” She walked over, and hugged the young man. “Stay safe.” And with that, she walked out of the apartment.
There was silence for a moment. “I haven’t seen you for a while,” Katherine said at last.
Heinrich shrugged. “You know how the university is.” He made a face as he realized what he’d said. “I mean, I’ve been busy at school.” Katherine nodded, although she knew the real reason. “And I’ve been an idiot.”
Katherine waved leaned back against a table. “You didn’t need to come all this way to apologize.” She shrugged. “You’re parents are prosperous members of the middle class, whereas I’m the daughter of a widowed secretary.”
“Fuck my parents.”
Katherine blinked. “Where’d you learn such language?”
Heinrich ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I picked it up in the army.” He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts and then rolled everything out at once. “I wanted to let you know that I love you, and that I think you’re the greatest girl in the world. I wanted to let you know that I don’t think I’ll ever meet anyone like you, and that you’re smart, beautiful, and kind. I won’t ask you if you will marry me, although I would like to do so. But I would like to ask you to wait for me, until the war ends.”
Katherine was silent for a moment, and then started laughing. Henreich staggered as if from a blow. “Of course, forgive me. I will head out, and not trouble you again.”
In reply Katherine walked over and put her arms around him. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. My father said the same thing to my mother during the Great War.”
And then he leaned forward and kissed her.
He left a few hours later, and Katherine walked him to the apartment’s door. The street, she noticed, were dead silent, and the veil of night covered the city. Apparently they’d decreed a blackout after all.
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A different man would have banged his first on the table in frustration, or perhaps shot a few subordinates. Francois La Rocque, the President of France, just leaned back in his chair and wished for some aspirin.
“It would take us time to mobilize, but we can, if we must, march to Poland’s aid.” General Weygand gave what a very Gallic shrug. “I admit that no one in France wants war. Who can blame them?”
La Rocque sighed. “Of course they don’t want war. Nor do I. The heroes of Verdun would cry out from their hallowed tombs if I sent the sons of France to war without cause. But they would cry out even more if I let Germany threaten France once again.”
Édouard Daladier, Minister of Finance and one of the few Radicals in La Rocque’s cabinet, sighed. This is what you get, he thought, when your president thinks he’s a poet. “You’re not the only veteran of the Great War at this table. And I tell you, France does not want another war.”
La Rocque’s voice was as cold as ice as he replied. “We cannot tolerate German aggression.”
Daladier was usually taciturn, and it was a sign of his frustration that he raised his voice and slammed his fist on the table. “This isn’t German aggression! You would have Frenchmen die for Kaunus?”
La Rocque shook his head. “If it was just Poland, I would say let them stew in the mess they made. But if we abandon Poland, then we make Germany the arbiter of Eastern Europe. How long do you think it would take them to turn west, and make themselves the masters of the continent?”
“For God’s sake,” implored Daladier, “you’re exaggerating. The Germans are not so foolish as to want war.”
La Rocque shook his head. “I wish it were so. But they view themselves as the masters of the continent.” He looked out across the window, imagining he could see all of Paris. “War may bring the destruction of our great cities, the invasion of our skies, and an uprising following the blood-soaked rites of Lenin. But the longer we wait, the worse it will be.”
La Rocque tapped his fingers on the table, his voice distant. “It’s a shame, really. Europe needs to be united to face the threat from the Anglo-Saxons and Russia. Yet Germany will burn the continent, in pursuit of ancient feuds.”
Daladier scowled. La Rocque, that sack of shit, probably thought he sounded profound. Yet the son of a Provencal baker looked out the window at Paris, and felt his heart ache. Paris too was bathed in darkness.
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René Leduc peered through his binoculars, watching a bomber gently drift through the sky. He couldn’t hear it, but he could imagine the sound that came next. The whine as the engine started, the pilot breaking the clamps with the bomber, and then… he saw it. He held his breath, and heard the whine of the ramjet as the fighter flew off of the bomber, like an arrow loosed from a bow. “Let us,” he declared, “see the Germans beat that.”
The French air force had withered thanks to years of government cutbacks, but since 1936 the government had poured money into rearmament in a desperate bid to catch up. Leduc’s proposals for a ramjet engine, belittled in the 1930s, had been courteously received by the Fourth Republic, and funding had poured forth.
This was only a prototype, to confirm that the engine could work in an actual plane.
A captain in the French air force was looking on as well, and snapping pictures with a camera. “Impressive, I admit. But the planes can’t take off from a runway?”
Leduc frowned; why did the man have to bother him now? “That’s not how a ramjet works,” he said while keeping his eyes on the plane. “It has to be at a certain speed before the engine can work.”
The captain grunted. “They still could be useful,” he admitted. “As interceptors, nothing could catch them.”
“Of course,” replied Leduc. The plane was a thing of beauty, and he smiled. He could already see some flaws to fix, of course. Maybe, he mused, a rocket assisted take off? He’d heard the Germans were working on something like that. Thinking aloud, he said, "I wonder if we could drop them from zeppelins."
The Captain blinked. "You want to drop pilots in expensive aircraft towards the ground and hope that they can start the engine in time?"
Leduc harumphed. "When you put it that way it sounds ridiculous!"
“We'll think about,” said the Captain. The plane swooped through the air like a bird of prey. If all went well, it would feast soon enough.
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While the rest of the world held its breath, the mood in the Kremlin was jovial, or as close as it could be under the Man of Steel. The Kremlin had seen many surreal scenes in its long and bloody history, but if the ancient building could talk, it might protest that the latest was too much The leader of the Soviet Union at a dinner party with the fellow pioneers of Socialism? Engaging in drinking contests and ribaldry? If anybody had joked about it on the streets, the NKVD would have sent them to Siberia, but it had been happening more and more, of late. Beria sloshed on cognac would have been hilarious, if he hadn’t signed execution orders before coming.
“I suppose it will be a war now,” joked Stalin. “All that running around and shooting at one another. You would have thought sooner or later it'd go out of fashion. "
Beria joked. “You know Capitalists,” he said. “They can’t help recycling the same old ideas.” Since everyone was drunk, this was considered hilarious by everyone present.
Everyone, that is, but Molotov. He’d consumed his share of alcohol, but he was still sober. “The West is following the contradictions of its economic system to their conclusion,” he declared. “France and Germany will struggle for hegemony of Europe, and Britain will be drawn in, as it is always is.” He thought. “They’re too evenly matched, so it will ultimately come down to who has done a better job mystifying their proletariat to support the war.” He twitched his mustache. “They will be,” he predicted, “distracted.”
Stalin laughed and raised a glass full of vodka. “Gentleman, to fair summer weather.”
Everyone present raised their glasses and drank, and Stalin smiled. "Khrushchev, Khrushchev, Khrushchev. You seem so dour. Perhaps a little dancing would make you feel better."
The First Secretary of the Ukrainian Communist Party plastered a smile on his face. "What would you like me to dance?"
"Oh, show us one of your native dances," he slurred. "Show us how the Ukraine's peasants rejoice in Soviet rule!"
Laughing, Khrushchev squatted and began to perform the hopak. It was ridiculous, of course. But when Stalin says dance, a wise man dances.
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A poem going around Germany in the 1930s asked, “Suppose they gave a war and nobody came?”
It was a foolish question, really, for there would always be someone who wanted to go to war. If no one else, then death and all his friends.
(Stalin did indeed throw drinking parties in the late 1930s, and made Kruschev dance the hopak, which can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Car5tKzhFv0. Stalin drinking with his buddies and making the guy who started the Cuban missile crisis dance for him is sufficiently weird that it really has to be included.)
"Stell Dir vor es kommt Krieg und keiner geht hin - dann kommt der Krieg zu euch!
Wer zu Hause bleibt, wenn der Kampf beginnt, und läßt andere kämpfen für seine Sache, der muß sich vorsehen:
Denn wer den Kampf nicht geteilt hat, der wird teilen die Niederlage. Nicht einmal Kampf vermeidet wer den Kampf vermeiden will:
Denn es wird kämpfen für die Sache des Feindes, wer für seine eigene Sache nicht gekämpft hat".
- Brecht
Oh dear...
We know that any German defeat can't be too damaging, given the glimpes of the future we've seen, but...
We know that any German defeat can't be too damaging, given the glimpes of the future we've seen, but...
Faeelin
Banned
Loosely:
What if they gave a war and nobody came?
Why then the war will come to you!
He who stays home when the fight begins
And lets another fight for his cause
Should take care:
He who does not take part
In the battle will share in the defeat.
Even avoiding battle will not avoid Battle,
since not to fight for your own cause really means
Fighting in behalf of your enemy's cause.
Hendryk
Banned
I'm glad Leduc's ramjet prototypes receive decent funding in your TL
I remember my high school history teacher telling us about that very anecdote. It has the amusing yet scary dimension of a fictional scene that a writer would use to highlight the nature of a despot's power over his underlings.
Faeelin
Banned
The explanation will come before anything else; the scene with Heinrich sorta formed in my mind, since it kind of relates to some tales about my grandparents; and one thing led to another...
But the cause is also abrupt, and yet not, in a sense. I thought it'd be fun to have it sneak up on the readers the same way everything else did. In a way it reminds me of how the Georgian crisis flared up out of nowhere, although in reality the it was years in the making.
::Mumble Mumble::
An excellent question. I think German rocketry may be a bit behind OTL, but I don't know how much money they actually received. If Germany has an airforce half/one third of OTL, but puts about OTL amount of money in research, is this a large amount?
I've never been hugely into military stuff, so if anybody knows or has ideas.
it'd be most welcome.
As Hendryk said, it sounds like something out of "When I'm an evil overlord" list.
While most military technology is probably slightly behind OTL, I figure you could reasonably put them ahead in a few places; here is one. The first transistor radios are being made, although they're still very early. On the other hand, something like the Lancaster is still the stuff of artists.
Faeelin
Well, things are coming to a head. Was hoping for a while this TL might avoid a major war. A bit surprised that powers are standing up to Germany so early, given how much Hitler got away with. Stresemann is more dangerous in some ways as he's a lot more intelligent, although still not enough to avoid military expansion by the sound of it.
The key thing is whether and in which way the various powers go, not to mention how completely they commit. If both France and Italy support Poland against a German attack and no power supports Germany it should lose, although there are advantages in their central position and unity of command. Could be messy for all concerned although LordInsane raises a good point that it sounds like the war could be fairly short and bloodless. Possibly, without a headcase like Hitler, the strong aversion to war in virtually all the states will win out. [Although we're still got Mussolini, dreaming of granduer and probably desiring revenge for the loss of his Austrian satalite/buffer, the German army looking for glory and whatever the state of play is in France].
Steve
Well, things are coming to a head. Was hoping for a while this TL might avoid a major war. A bit surprised that powers are standing up to Germany so early, given how much Hitler got away with. Stresemann is more dangerous in some ways as he's a lot more intelligent, although still not enough to avoid military expansion by the sound of it.
The key thing is whether and in which way the various powers go, not to mention how completely they commit. If both France and Italy support Poland against a German attack and no power supports Germany it should lose, although there are advantages in their central position and unity of command. Could be messy for all concerned although LordInsane raises a good point that it sounds like the war could be fairly short and bloodless. Possibly, without a headcase like Hitler, the strong aversion to war in virtually all the states will win out. [Although we're still got Mussolini, dreaming of granduer and probably desiring revenge for the loss of his Austrian satalite/buffer, the German army looking for glory and whatever the state of play is in France].
Steve
Hendryk
Banned
Well, it makes sense that Leduc's research is slightly ahead of OTL. Without the nationalization of the aircraft industry, compounded by the hurried preparation for war, projects like his that require steady funding can proceed unimpeded.
Talking of ramjets, I was wondering:
Talking of ramjets, I was wondering:
Did you get this idea from my Solid state propulsion thread?
I have my doubts about this, in the case of Italy, the austrian border could be easily defended by the germans against the attacks of the Italians (even although they used his alpini, the austrian mountain divisions, now germans, were very prepared, also if they are comanded by for example Eduard Dietl, the germans should not have too much difficulty in causing the italians a lot of Isonzos in this ATL war).
Respect to France, the problem is the relative slowness that the French Army seemed to have in making advances, it seemed more a defensive army that one prepared for a quick and victorious offensive, I ever remember the article of Dale Cozort that analized how the French army had could be more active at the beginning of World War II
http://members.aol.com/althist1/Feb02/france.htm
Although naturally some could have changed in Faeelin ATL, I have the feeling that some of the circumstances mentioned by Dale Cozort in his article about the french difficulties to perform a great offensive could happen also in Faeelin ATL, there was some of reluctance in the initiative to perform great offensives by the part of the french.
I think that in this aspect the key factor could be the poles, if the poles manage to defend with more luck than in OTL (and we could suppose that the poles in Faeelin ATL will have full mobilization) they could delay the sufficient to permit the french continue the offensive (the article of Dale Cozort made the supposition that the poles are defeated more or less in the same period than in OTL) but if the germans could made a blitzkrieg it could be very possible that french front could follow the lines of the article of Dale Cozort.
Faeelin
Banned
I would argue that the key is France; Mussolini has no problem with war if he thinks he can win, after all, and Britain is still sitting out. Note that plenty of people in France are still opposed to war; but one of the advantages, and disadvantages, of a strong Presidential system is that what largely matters is the person in power.
But it's not over yet.
Mussolini's position is not an enviable one; as in OTL 1939, Italy's basically running on fumes, out of hard currency, and an economic catastrophe waiting to happen. But unlike OTL, there's no war to get Mussolini out of the mess. In a sense. EVen more unlike OTL, he doesn't have the successes of Spain and Ethiopia; instead he has Britain viewing the Italians as a rogue state and Italian socialists broadcasting from Barcelona about how tomorrow belongs to them.
Faeelin
Banned
I concur about both points. The trick is isolating, and crippling, the Polish army; once that's done, you can present the West with a fait accompli.
In this light, all the ramblings about the Soviet Union come into play.
(And I'm surprised nobody picked up a hint about another war in the last piece).
This, you mean?
Picked up is one thing, of course. Remembering to comment on it is another.