Chapter 199: Gorgeous Curtain
Beside Manstein, Bock immediately poured cold water on the proposal.
"The Ardennes are not suitable for the advance of armored forces. The French understand this as well. That is why they have not built a large-scale defensive line there, but that does not mean they have left it completely empty. If we attempt to bypass the main French defenses through the Ardennes, we may encounter serious obstacles."
He turned his gaze toward the Air Force representative.
"Kesselring, has the Air Force conducted reconnaissance over the Ardennes?"
Kesselring, dressed in the dark uniform of the Air Force, nodded.
"We have. Based on the scale of the French camps captured by reconnaissance aircraft disguised as civilian airliners, France has deployed at most two divisions in the Ardennes."
Heydrich, who was responsible for intelligence, opened his briefcase and took out a detailed topographical map of the Ardennes.
"To be precise, only one mountain division."
Manstein accepted the map.
When he saw the meticulous markings on it, even he could not help showing a trace of curiosity.
"I must say, Heydrich, you really are like that character from the newly released animated film. What was his name again?"
"Doraemon," Paulus supplied from the side.
"Yes, Doraemon."
Manstein glanced at Heydrich.
"How do you always have everything?"
"There was a cycling race around the Ardennes not long ago," Heydrich replied calmly. "This map had already begun being drawn at that time. The Führer gave me the order more than a year ago."
Manstein looked back at the map and continued, "That only further proves the feasibility of bypassing through the Ardennes."
He tapped the marked mountain roads with his finger.
"As long as we move fast enough, we can drive the First Army to Sedan before the French main front has time to react."
"Forcing a crossing of the Meuse?"
Heinz Guderian, Commander in Chief of the First Army on the Western Front and Deputy Commander in Chief of the Wehrmacht Army, finally spoke after a long silence.
"It is feasible."
His expression remained stern.
"But I believe we cannot assume that the French Army will only rely on static defense. As the Führer has said, on the tactical level, we must respect the French."
He stood and walked toward the map.
"I suggest sending two divisions to launch a feint along the main front. At the same time, Spain should secretly dispatch an infantry division under the guise of climbing Aneto Peak, creating the illusion that they intend to strike directly toward Marseille."
As he spoke, Heinz Guderian marked two red points on the map for the feints, and one black point for the main offensive.
"Let the French be unable to distinguish where our real battlefield is."
Although everyone present understood the relationship between Heinz Guderian and the Führer, Jörg's iron rule of free discussion still allowed Bock to raise a question without hesitation.
"Will the Spanish feint be carried out by Spaniards?"
"No."
Rommel, who was responsible for the North African Army Group, answered first.
"The North African Army Group has a guerrilla force in Spain trained by General Vorbeck. The feint from the Spanish side can be completely entrusted to him."
Rommel's addition made the officers present nod one after another.
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
"I agree as well."
The last voice came from the doorway.
The conference room door had been pushed open.
The moment they recognized the newcomer, everyone stood and saluted.
"Führer!"
Jörg walked to the main seat and sat down.
"Sit, everyone."
Only after the officers returned to their seats did he continue.
"After crossing the Meuse, do not make Paris your primary target. I do not need a grand entry performance. For the time being, the importance of Paris can be set aside."
His finger moved across the map.
"If the advance goes smoothly and we break through the Meuse, the French Army, or the Anglo-French coalition, will inevitably retreat toward the coastal areas with the intention of withdrawing. We must cut off their retreat as quickly as possible and encircle the French main force."
His voice grew colder.
"The operation must be swift. Ideally, we should not even give them a chance to reach the ports."
Rommel frowned slightly, puzzled.
"Even if we allow them to retreat, have you not already ordered the submarine force to strike in the English Channel? If they withdraw by sea, the Navy can sink the British ships."
"No, Rommel."
Jörg smiled faintly.
"That would directly lead the British to conclude that Britain and Germany are irreconcilable enemies. That would be unfavorable to our strategic decision making."
He glanced around the room.
"Who says Britain must necessarily be our opponent?"
Heydrich, the only person present who understood the Führer's meaning, quietly hid the smile in his eyes.
Germany had paid a considerable price in Britain over the years.
"Rommel," Jörg continued, "once the Wehrmacht gives the explicit order, your North African forces are to advance rapidly toward Algeria."
Rommel immediately straightened.
"Yes, Führer!"
Bock then asked, "Führer, should we increase the number of troops deployed against Italy?"
He was responsible for the Italian and Hungarian campaigns, so this question was unavoidable.
"Do not overestimate Italy, Bock."
Jörg waved his hand, rejecting the suggestion.
"Their Army is indeed numerous, but numbers do not mean they can fight, nor do they mean they know how to fight. Did the Spanish battlefield not make that clear enough?"
He continued, "And I dare say Italy is also waiting for us to begin the war. Once war comes, they will absolutely send troops toward Albania, which they have coveted for a long time, and attempt to seize Greece."
A trace of ridicule appeared in his eyes.
"After all, Mussolini may be a Roman in the truest sense. He will not miss such an opportunity."
Jörg looked toward Bock.
"There will not be too many Italian troops on the Austrian front. Your offensive does not need to be too fierce. Focus instead on advancing rapidly toward Hungary."
Bock understood the Führer's meaning, but still asked further, "You believe Italy cannot take Greece? But Greece's military strength is not exactly high."
Jörg walked to the window and pulled open the heavy curtains.
Outside, an airship painted with the Olympic rings floated slowly across the sky.
"War is not numbers written on paper, Bock. You understand that better than I do."
He looked at the airship and said calmly, "Do not underestimate the Greek people's will to resist."
Then he turned back.
"As for Poland."
His gaze moved to Paulus, Model, and Rundstedt.
"I leave it to you three. Are there any problems?"
The three men stood at once and shook their heads.
"No, Führer."
Paulus spoke on behalf of the group.
"We will organize a three-pronged attack from Danzig, Slovakia, and the homeland, and take Poland as quickly as possible."
Jörg nodded.
"Very good."
Then his tone became sharper.
"But do not forget to guard against the Soviet Russians. Although a treaty has been signed, they may not behave honestly. Deploy troops to the Polish-Soviet border as early as possible and prevent the Soviet Russians from intervening."
His voice lowered.
"Do not let them stir a good pot of soup into a mess."
"Yes, sir!"
The three answered at the same time.
Outside the red brick building, no one knew that beneath the magnificent backdrop of the Olympics, a war that ran completely counter to the Olympic declarations of peace and friendship was only separated from the outside world's clamor by a thin line.
Tactical deployments and strategic plans were moved onto sand tables and written across blackboards one after another.
High-ranking generals from the Navy, Army, and Air Force arrived in waves at the military bunkers on the outskirts of Berlin, discussing how to coordinate their forces more efficiently.
War and peace were so close.
Yet for ordinary people, the distance between them was still as vast as divine punishment.
And in front of the curtain, in the eyes of the citizens, Berlin was experiencing an unprecedented fervor.
Hot air balloons floated above the lavishly constructed Olympic venues.
Crowds filled every street.
Germans from countless cities had converged upon the capital, ready to witness their country host the Olympics.
.....
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