Chapter 140: Change
The Polish-German military conflict, which had drawn the anxious eyes of Europe, finally came to an end before Christmas of 1928 after three rounds of negotiations.
The Weimar Republic recovered Silesia, Memel, and the newly demarcated Danzig region.
More importantly, the League of Nations had, in practice, acknowledged Germany's military expansion.
Britain even signed a naval agreement with Germany. Under the condition that Germany's total naval tonnage would not exceed forty-five percent of Britain's, London tacitly permitted Berlin to break through the naval restrictions imposed by the Treaty of Versailles.
At the same time, Britain also conceded Germany's right to host the 1932 Olympic Games.
The situation in Europe deteriorated at a terrifying pace.
In France, public resentment spread rapidly. The loss of influence, the failure to restrain Germany, and the increasingly unstable economy combined into a fire that no cabinet speech could extinguish.
Across the Atlantic, the Hoover administration signed the American Protection Act. High tariffs tore apart what remained of the world's free market.
Factories shut down one after another.
The unemployed wandered the streets, carrying anger that had nowhere to go.
Political parties of every color began marching beneath their banners.
France, Britain, and the colonial nations that had reduced raw material exports all came to understand the same truth.
The old era was gone.
Peace was no longer reliable.
The gears that had turned for ten years were beginning to loosen.
A collapse named change would unfold like a chain reaction in the coming 1930s. The world would be reshaped, and war had become inevitable.
Yet the smoke of that change had not fully reached Germany.
Even though Germany's unemployment rate had risen to the second highest level in its history, the joy of recovering lost territory still filled the taverns.
Workers, veterans, clerks, policemen, and students crowded together shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the victory parade in Danzig. They raised their glasses again and again, celebrating a victory bought with blood.
Compared with the people of other nations, the Germans could still see something precious.
Hope.
In Danzig, the only surviving central square had been cleared and fitted with a high podium.
Below the stage stood the three elite battalions of the First Infantry Division, the troops that had paid the heaviest price in the landing operation. Beside them stood the Ninth Infantry Division, which had held back five Polish divisions for several days in Elbląg.
Now, all of them basked in glory.
The cold winter sunlight stretched their shadows across the square, turning their neat formations into dark blades laid upon the ruined earth.
Jörg stood before the microphone.
His voice rang across the square.
"Gentlemen, you are the undisputed heroes of Germany. Your scars and blood have built a wall for this nation. The remains of the fallen have become the foundation of Germany's resurgence."
He looked at the soldiers below.
"You will not be forgotten. Never."
The brim of his dark military cap blocked the sunlight, casting a deep shadow across his face and making his expression appear even more solemn.
"Today, beneath your feet, there may still be ruins. But in a few years, Danzig will once again stand in glory. By then, your names will be carved upon its monuments."
His voice grew heavier.
"Decades from now, the photographs taken today will become part of our history textbooks. Every German child will know that years ago, it was you who reclaimed Danzig, reclaimed dignity, and reclaimed the honor of Germany."
Click. Click. Click.
Camera flashes burst from both sides of the podium like pale lightning.
Standing on the stage, Jörg lowered his head and handed the microphone to Hindenburg.
The old man who had devoted his entire life to Germany seemed, for the first time in years, to have become young again.
His medals swayed gently in the wind.
Hindenburg paused, then gave the briefest command.
"Forward! Germany! Let the parade begin!"
The soldiers, still carrying the killing intent of the battlefield, stepped forward in the Prussian goose step and roared in unison.
"Forward! Germany!"
Jörg smiled as he watched the formation begin to move. Then he turned and got into the car.
Heide was already sitting inside.
The intelligence officer lowered his head respectfully and reported, "Sir, the final work on the Soviet Russian side has been completed. We removed all blueprints, machine tools, and experimental data in advance. The remaining components have been gathered and destroyed."
He continued, "All trained officers and soldiers will return safely to Germany before Christmas."
Jörg nodded.
The age of concealment was ending.
Germany no longer needed to hide its military research in the frozen depths of Soviet Russia. From this moment on, it could pursue national defense openly.
This also meant that the German-Soviet honeymoon had reached its end.
"Sir, should the Puppet Plan begin?" Heide asked. "Several agents from the Roman Military Academy have secretly entered Ukraine. They can contact the Ukrainian officers at any time."
"Not yet."
Jörg shook his head.
"Let them remain hidden. I will notify you when they are needed. This is not the moment."
He looked out the window at the broken streets of Danzig.
"By the way, Heide, does the Internal and External Intelligence Department have personnel in the Middle East?"
"Yes, sir."
"Send them to Transjordan, Saudi Arabia, and Syria. Establish contact with local anti-colonial resistance organizations."
"Yes, sir."
Jörg took a deep breath as he stared at the ruins outside.
During his recent negotiations with the British, he had learned something new.
A proposal concerning the establishment of a Jewish state had already appeared on the desks of the Lords in the Upper House.
That piece of information had given him a new idea.
An idea to destroy the political network behind those plans and, through it, formally pry open the road toward the Middle East's oil.
"Has Mr. Ford in America been contacted?" Jörg asked.
Heide nodded.
"He has been contacted, sir. He asked when you intend to deal with those financial parasites."
"Now."
Jörg's tone was calm.
"The people of the world need an explanation. Then let those who profited from chaos become that explanation."
At that moment, someone knocked on the car door.
Seeing Vito standing outside the window, Heide knew his report had ended. He quickly got out and gave the seat to the head of the Internal and External Intelligence Department.
Vito entered the car and lowered his voice.
"Sir, I have urgent intelligence to report."
"Speak."
"The Jewish mutual aid foundation has been established. We discovered that many wealthy Jewish businessmen, bankers, landlords, and scientists are members. According to further investigation, they have begun selling assets in small batches."
He paused.
"They have also secretly begun transferring gold."
Jörg's expression did not change.
Vito continued, "As for the political parties, Hill, whom you have been closely monitoring, has taken to the streets. His slogans calling for the abolition of women's equality and the expulsion of ethnic minorities have attracted many supporters. The Workers Party is expanding rapidly."
"There are British and Italian shadows behind their funding."
In truth, these developments had begun weeks ago.
The reason Vito was only reporting them now was simple. The war had delayed almost all of Jörg's work.
Jörg asked, "What about the left-wing parties?"
"The Left-Wing Workers Party led by Thälmann is also expanding and preparing for the parliamentary elections. Their underground work is excellent, but our monitoring agents still discovered contact between them and the Russians."
Vito's voice became more cautious.
"We do not yet know what exactly they discussed."
"And the Social Democratic Party?"
"No major movements for now."
Vito finished reporting the situation of the three major parties in one breath.
Seeing that his superior had fallen into thought, he quietly stepped out of the car, leaving Jörg alone with the silence.
But that silence lasted only a few minutes.
Hindenburg, leaning on his cane, opened the car door.
Years had passed. His thoughts and body were no longer as sharp as they had been when he first met Jörg. Wrinkles covered his cheeks, and sometimes he had to think for several minutes before recalling what he had intended to say.
But today, he seemed young again.
There was a rare brightness in his eyes.
He looked at Jörg and smiled.
Then, with the solemnity of a man who had weighed the matter for a long time, he announced his decision.
.....
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