Obergruppenführer Smith
Banned
Something to consider: Is Adolf's "communism" really "communism" as we know it? For all we know Adolf might just be making Strasserism his.
"Our Struggle": What If Hitler Had Been a Communist?
- Thread starter The Red
- Start date
Of course it's not communism as we know it. I also expect it'll be different from Strasserism.
Deleted member 92121
I Believe he and Strasser will eventually face of, with their different ideologies competing. This could be to take control of the party before the revolution/coup/election or after to solidify one's power over germany. If i were to bet: say hello to National Communism.
Chapter XXVII
'It is in this very concept of spirit as that which is what it is only
through itself and as infinite return into itself from the natural immediacy
of its existence that lies the possibility of an opposition, in that
what the spirit is only in itself may differ from what it is for itself '
~ F. W. Hegel
through itself and as infinite return into itself from the natural immediacy
of its existence that lies the possibility of an opposition, in that
what the spirit is only in itself may differ from what it is for itself '
~ F. W. Hegel
Unlike their land based counterpart, the origins of the Luftstreitkrafte can be found in Germany's imperial past. Not only is the name the same as that of the German air forces that flew in the First World War, for in the humble origins of the Communist air wing there were far greater similarities.
Though the Weimar-era Reichswehr trained pilots discreetly by using bases in the Soviet Union, a policy which increased its vigour in the wake of Hitler's revolution. However, German communists first took to the skies in the troubled early days of Weimar, when their enemy was the newly formed Reichswehr and the Freikorps militia that were collectively deried as the "white guards of Capitalism" by the official rhetoric emanating from the shortlived revolution in the Ruhr
The air forces of Imperial Germany had viciously contested the skies over the ruinous battlefields of the First World War against far more numoerus opponents. german fighter aces rose to spectacular fame on the home front and gained the grudging respect of enemy pilots. German innovations in both doctrine and technology would often cause despair to those had to send vast concentrations of aircraft against them. It was no surprise that there was mutual agreement amongs the victorious powers of the end of the war that Germany would be forbidden from ever having an air force again.
This was the diktat the came as one of the many demands of the Treaty of Versailles but it was not a demand that could be adhered to overnight. The Luftsreitkrafte was battered but its inventory remained substantial and was still in the process of liquidation in the Spring of 1920, when a failed reactionary coup once more gave rise to revolution in Germany's industrial heartland.
~ Len Deighton, Swarm Over The Sky: An Aerial History of the Second World War
---
---
As he heard the Mercedes engines began to stir into life, Johann feared that the mix of fear and anticipation within might cause him to go mad before it was his turn to go into the air. It would not be his first time in the skies, but it would be his first time dealing revolutionary vengeance against the reactionary enemy. This would not be like the fun he had had with is friends at the Duisburg Flying Club where they would take turns at using archaic old designs to get a few feet into the air, the flying club was gone, the university was gone, he felt that that entire chapter of his life was about to be closed, something to be remembered by the different man that he was about to become.
His own engine began to roar as one of his comrades sent the propellor spinning, there was a jolt to his back as the Albatros D.III began moving forward, first at a crawl, then faster and faster still, his cockpit rocking violently, as he trying to maintain his grip on the throttle as he adjusted his goggles in the face of the ever increasing wind resistance. The racket of the buzzing engine, and the protests of the ground below, were becoming almost unbearable, and yet all Johann could feel was his heart pounding and his stomach lurching as the Albatros made a final skip off from the runway and headed into the air.
Johann's relief at having successfully taken off was almost as overwhelming as the nasuea he had had just moments before, he couldn't help but join in the elation of the other pilots around him as they bobbed around in the air together, cheering noiselessly, their fists raised with joy. Johann could barely hear himself cheer over the buzzing of the engine and the sky. At this altitude all communication was based around sign language, and even that wasn't exactly coherent at the best of times, luckily they had been briefed beforehand. The Freikorps, and their allies in the Reichswehr, were evacuating the Ruhr area. They had been almost as surprised by the revolution unfolding around them as Johann had, it was important to damage them as much as possible before they could regroup, and the captured Albatros aircraft provided a unique opportunity to do so. For despite their frantic retreat, they had the hubris of prey who didn't know that their predator had wings.
This would be Johann's first hunt, but he hoped that his enthusiasm would be enough to counter his inexperience. His training with the flying corps had just began when it was announced the war had ended, it had apparently taken the army that long to realise they had a deficit of young romantics, or perhaps it was just the fact that they were facing an enemy with better and more numerous planes and needed to make-up the deficit even if it required the most pretentious little airheads they'd ever seen. Johann put the remarks of his old commanding officer to one side, as his comrade made exaggerated motions to look down below.
Despite being a reactionary militia the Freikorps were highly organised, even in retreat, it was very easy to spot their columns as they marched amongst a handful of armoured vehicles. These were the tinpot behemoths that had given them an advantage on the streets of Berlin and Munich, today it would do them no good. Johann was keen to make them a metal casket.
From the air the enemy looked like ants with toy cars, creeping slowly towards the east, Johann and his comrades were too far to be heard, at least that's what he hoped, as the fighters flew high over their heads and turned with the sun at their backs, the descent began.
Johann tried to stay focused on the task at hand as the ground became closer and closer but failed to suppress a grin as he saw the first signs of panic from below. It appeared he and his comrades hadn't been seen after all, or perhaps they had simply been taken by surprise that German planes could be a threat. Either way, Johann's burst of fire sent several of the little men to the ground, never to get back up again.
The light, the heat, the noise that went over engine, the figures turning into little puddles of blood down below, it was all surreal a former student who had never fired a shot in anger, so much so that Johann had had to shake off the feeling that he had heard screams when he had pulled up for another attacking run. There was no way he couldn't have heard screaming, he was nowhere near low enough, not unless it was himself. He could no longer remember why he had been screaming or even if he had thought he had imagined by the time he swooped down like some vast predatory bird, for the second time.
Those down below where still scattered, their organisation broken by the death from above, a point that Johann attempted to accentuate by dropping one of his bombs before pressing down on the trigger again. The only uniformity in the response of the Freikorps now seemed to be to run for cover, especially the tree line that couldn't have been more than half a mile away, a desperate sprint that Johann cut short, this time one of his bombs actually hit something, he could see limbs stretching to odd lengths before retreating into the flames and smoke.
Up above he could see several smoke plumes now, it was encouraging to see that this comrades had caused as much chaos as he had. It allowed him to put any doubts about what he had just taken pleasure in doing, and why or whether he had started screaming when doing so. Once again the raised fist was in the air alongside his colleagues. He wasn't sure why he was crying, only that it was a very irritating phenomenon whilst wearing goggles, but it was a joyful moment as they headed home. No-one could blame him for being overly emotional.
---
Northern France, 1947
The infernal klaxon wouldn't stop going off, which along with the fire trucks sirens ruining Johann's concentration as the comrades below attempted to regain communication with those who hadn't returned. Even though the sun had been going down already, flames on the runway tended to make the evening darker than it might have been otherwise.
This was true in the figurative sense as well as the literal, although it was increasingly hard for Johann to be optimistic enough to remark that things weren't as bad as they seemed. He hadn't been aware that there was a way of inducing a migraine with a single word until he had started to hear the name "F-86" a few months beforehand.
Wonderful German designs, whether piston or jet, were being tossed out of the sky and even his best pilots were now being forced to crash land on the runway. How long would it be until the Americans could field thousands of these craft, alongside the thousands of jets that they and the British already seemed to be fielding? How long would it be before he was told that they would have to pull back from this base to avert further casualties? Johann couldn't help but feel these two dreaded events would soon be in sync.
The Comintern was running out of time.
Eleven years of war, eleven years of trauma and sacrifice, entire continents worth of production lying around as wreckage and all there was left now was to continue to fight in the hope that deliverance would come. The American and British slave factories seemed to be producing more now than ever, that had to be taking a toll on a working class that had lost so many in fighting the battles of the rich, the message had to be reaching them. It was his last best hope, even if it wasn't necessarily the official line he would tell his comrades when they would have to fly out on increasingly casualty ridden missions. The commissar was never far away from his shoulder.
Even as the blaze was tackled on the runway and those still out in the field were only replying with static he sat there perched, observing, unable to do anything but making sure that everyone else was doing their jobs., even though this would often take the form of encouraging words that didn't offer much help to anything that was going on. Now he just stared at the blazing wreck, the flames stealing light away from the setting sun, until he realised that Johann's eyes were on him. It wasn't long before he was walking over.
"Comrade, whenever you get free for a moment, let's have a talk in your office." His tone was casual, almost light-hearted, but there was a look in his eyes that betrayed that this wouldn't be about last months missing stationary.
The maze of corridors that made up the airfield's underground control centre always made Johann anxious. What was meant to ensure safety instead made him feel detached from the outside world, from the operations room he was aware of all the stress and the mania of all the outside world, the large fleets taking off majestically from the runways in their quest to finally smash imperialism, and the flames and wreckage that they sometimes spat back. This was all the real world, and he could view it like a movie, before disappearing below to a subterreanean void where he could pretend he was removed from reality. At least until he got to his office to inform a father that he would have to bury a daughter, and a wife that she wouldn't have to wait for her husband's letters ever again. It was a dreadful task, but it was one that he would rather have pursued in a heartbeat if it meant that his comrade the 'Revolutionary Field Officer' hadn't been in his office, waiting for him.
"I'm sorry for having just shown myself in but there's something that really needed to be adressed."
The calm demeanour was still very much there, but his words were more patronising than businesslike. Johann was in his own office and yet he was being treated like he had been sent to see the headmaster.
"There's been a drop in morale recently, entirely understnadable with the current casualty rate, but I'm afraid that matters aren't being helped by certain elements of confusion that have sprung up recently."
Johann already knew what this about,
"Comrade, let's not dance around the issue, if you want me to push for these absurd recommendations on attacking parachutists then I'll tell you what I've told everyone else. It's an impractical and immoral practice, and it's only going to make our pilots sympathise with the fascists and imperialists and in doing so begin to doubt our own cause."
The commissar was dismissive of such a notion, with a sigh he noted the usual elaborations of how just their cause truly was, as if he wasn't preaching to the converted, before finally getting to the point,
"I know that you're strongly opposed to this change of policy, a lot of our best comrades are, but they aren't walking around questioning the morality of our cause. Thsi was is reaching its climax and we are about to embark on decisions that will shape our world forever. Now is the time to tighten our will, and you're here asking questions about whether or not we should do everything we can to emerge victorious."
Johann couldn't help but roll his eyes,
"We derive our will from handing power to the powerless, no-one is going to fight harder in the knowledge that they'll be expected to gun down a pilot who has bailed out of his aircraft. Slaughtering a defenceless parachutist is not the sort of action that any army should aspire, especially ours."
"I know that it's difficult to justify to our pilots, but you're not helping matters by encouraging their misgivings, you know as well as I do that sometimes sentiment needs to give way to what's best for the cause as a whole."
"What's best for the cause is not to dehumanise the enemy, this isn't the great imperialist slaughter, we are a global movement that fights for the betterment of mankind, even those who live in the imperialist states."
The commissar's expression had become rather vacant, as if he had become tired of having this conversation. A career of rousing speeches and the occasional speech about the morality of war amidst that never seemed to end, not as comfortable as he might have thought at first. His eye turned to the picture Johann had placed on his wall with pride when he had first moved here,
"You knew him didn't you? Back in the day?"
Not for the first time, Johann considered taking that picture down. It was a question he was getting tired of answering.
"It wasn't anything major, we'd taken over a few imperial planes during the Ruhr uprising. I managed to crash, only for him to come and find me."
"He was on his way from Munich?"
"Yes, him and a few other prisoners, he picked up stragglers along the way. I was one of them."
Johann couldn't help but smile, of course he was a good athiest but he'd heard it joked that he was a disciple more than once. Could such a man really have given such odd orders if he didn't know what he was doing? It was a strange question, one that Johann now hoped someone else would have to answer.
"I'll tell you what comrade, I'm not going to encourage anyone to follow these orders, that's just not going to happen but to be honest I'm rather tired of giving orders in general now. I want to fight again."
The commissar seemed surprised, as if he hadn't just spent the conversation casting doubt over Johann's authority.
"You do know that I'm just here for morale purpoes don't you? I've no intention of forcing anyone away from their duty, nor could I do so if I wanted to." Johann couldn't help but laugh, he took a crumpled pack of cigarettes from the deep linen pockets of his beige uniform and offered one to his self-appointed judge, who quickly refused.
"I know that, but I also know you and your associates also like to make little notes and make gossip with the people who can make these decisions. Tell them that I'm bad for morale, tell them that I want to fly again rather than sit in an office all day. I started this war in a biplane and I'll end it in a jet! How does that sound? I'll even promise to gun down all the parachutists you want me to, if that makes it sweeter?"
The commissar no longer seemed as calm, although he only momentarily paused for thought,
"If you're going to be like this, there's no point continuing this conversation, you have your job, and I have mine, we'll fight the war in our own ways if you don't want my help."
He slammed the door as he left.
Johann sat back down and lit the refused cigarette, inhaling deeply as he stared at that picture of the two of them. A buzz going to his brain that was nothing like the one he had experienced on a disused airfield almost thirty years ago. He liked to think he hadn't lost his passion for the cause. The crimes that had been committed in the name of the cause was something he tended to think about as little as possible, as long as the final victory justified them. For an old communist that was usually reason enough, so long as he didn't see it.
As the air raid sirens began to wail for the second time of the day, he couldn't help but feel it was more complicated than that.
---
The painting is Angels and Aeroplanes by Natalia Goncharova.
[Foreshadowing intensifies]
(Seriously, eleven years of war? Bloody hell).
(Seriously, eleven years of war? Bloody hell).
Nixon be praised, an update!
Anywho, looks like Johann is going to be of some importance going forward, but with this in universe look into the 1940's I'm not sure he'll make it to the ATL Nuremberg trials (if they even hold them).
Finally, for now, great update, and I'm glad to see this is back.
The F-86. As in the F-86 saber which only had its first flight in October of 1947 is already in service in TTL in 1947? I guess eleven years of war can speed up progress, but egads to carnage and death toll...
So we can expect WWII to begin in 1936? Interesting.
Anywho, looks like Johann is going to be of some importance going forward, but with this in universe look into the 1940's I'm not sure he'll make it to the ATL Nuremberg trials (if they even hold them).
Finally, for now, great update, and I'm glad to see this is back.
QueerSpear
Banned
Awesome udpate and good teaser of the future events.
My word, TTL version of WWII is going to be brutal.
My word, TTL version of WWII is going to be brutal.
Maybe France is overrun and the rest of the war is just a decade-long bombing campaign as neither side can land troops on the other.
In which case, it probably won't be as brutal as OTL WW2 unless Hitler goes full genocide on the French.
Would the Soviet Union possibly side with the Communist Germany and WW2 would be with USSR and Germany, possibly other communist nations at the time forming some communist organization. Would Italy be on the ally side? I'm thinking the Communists would win the spanish civil war due to more support for the spanish republican government from the USSR and Communist Germany.
QueerSpear
Banned
Well the update mentions that the Comintern is running out of time.
That would explain why the war is so long- from the Comintern POV the war started in Spain.
For the Comintern to really be on the back foot even with the Soviet Union on-side, you will need one hell of a meat grinder. I guess there aren't many places which would fit. India, China or Africa.
I don't see the Russians attacking India or the Germans going for Africa, so I guess we could have a "tense peace" should the Soviet Union invade Manchuria and the rest of China between Japan and China.
I'm not sure.
Or the French do not fumble their roll for bluff calling and it is only with the massive weight of Russia thrown too at the French that they end up yielding and not by a lucky shot of Germany.
I don't see the Russians attacking India or the Germans going for Africa, so I guess we could have a "tense peace" should the Soviet Union invade Manchuria and the rest of China between Japan and China.
I'm not sure.
Or the French do not fumble their roll for bluff calling and it is only with the massive weight of Russia thrown too at the French that they end up yielding and not by a lucky shot of Germany.
Indeed. One of them could be leading the "real" Comintern the other the "splitters". There's a Monthy Python historical documentary exploring this phenomenon
.