There Is No Schlieffen in the German Empire

7 – Preparation for Victory (3)

Even though several days had passed since the start of the World War, the atmosphere of war was hardly palpable in the city of Berlin.

Men in uniforms could be seen here and there, but that was no different from usual.

Germany was a country where policemen, firefighters, and even postal and railway officials wore uniforms.

Quite literally, a paradise of uniforms. It seemed bizarre at first glance, but it was a scenery that would become familiar with time. Just as a person with one eye would seem abnormal in a world of two-eyed individuals, my perspective was also aligned with the standards of the German Empire.

I passed through the Brandenburg Gate in a royal vehicle. As I made my way to the Parliament House, a strange thought came to mind.

In actual history, Wilhelm II abdicated, and Hitler held a gun to his mouth to avoid capture by the Soviet Army. During the reign of Friedrich the Great, it must have been a symbol of victory, but in 20th century Germany, it seemed like a symbol of defeat. When you think about it, those Germans, they may be good at battles, but they’re terrible at wars. How did they manage to bet on the wrong horse in both World Wars?

Come to think of it, I’ve also fallen victim to it. If it weren’t for those damn Junker guys, would I have gone through all this hardship?

As I thought about it, steam rose to my head.

I turned my gaze away from the hazy Brandenburg Gate outside the window.

“Your Highness, it’s the Parliament House.”

Lieutenant Zecht turned his head slightly to inform me. As the car came to a stop, the guards who were responsible for my security dismounted and remained vigilant around me. Although there were hardly any assassination attempts on the Hohenzollern rulers, it was still difficult to completely let my guard down. In this era, extremists who considered killing monarchs their mission were lurking everywhere. Being the King of Prussia didn’t exempt me from that.

As far as I know, in the early 20th century, I almost got assassinated by eight idiots. If I had died then, it wouldn’t have mattered whether it was me, the German Empire, or the future idiots who would come later.

Is it the miraculous work of the so-called Brandenburg Miracle?

They write it off as luck, and then ruin it.

While the guards were creating a wide perimeter, Lieutenant Zekt, the adjutant, built a wall with his assistants nearby.

I got out of the car after being surrounded by a human wall.

Normally, Lieutenant Zekt, as the adjutant, could give direct orders to the guards, but now it was impossible.

With the outbreak of war, command of the Imperial Guard was transferred to the field army.

I entered the Imperial Council Assembly, surrounded by Lieutenant Zekt and the assistants. Reporters and members of parliament had gathered at the entrance. The inside of the assembly hall looked cramped and the seats were tightly packed, but it didn’t matter to me since I wasn’t going to sit. It’s good to be high up.

Looking at the arrangement of the members of parliament, the leaders of the major parties such as the Catholic Central Party and the Civil Party occupied the front seats.

The high-ranking individuals have taken good seats on that side too.

I exchanged greetings with the members of parliament and went up to the podium.

“Your Majesty, here is the manuscript.”

The manuscript handed over by the secretary was a manuscript I had been pondering over for several days. Originally, I would have used the original speech starting with “A Cry to the German Nation,” but the eight idiots’ manuscript didn’t suit my taste.

The distinctive bombastic rhetoric and showmanship of the eight idiots lacked the power to move the masses.

They should have had an expert on their side.

I prepared a new manuscript, quoting the full-scale propaganda speech of Paul Joseph Goebbels, the Minister of Propaganda of the Nazis.

Even if the idiots complained that I used their words without permission, they couldn’t object from hell, so there was no problem. If they have any complaints? Ah, they’re selling “My Struggle” written by that dictator in the country, so what can they do about it?

After a fake cough, I started the speech. I should have had a drink of water before starting.

“Dear members of the Imperial Council. It is a well-known fact that the intense exchange of sentences that has taken place in Berlin and Paris, St. Petersburg and Vienna, and many other cities has brought about irreversible results that both you and I are familiar with. Now, after 30 years of war, France, our long-standing enemy, has joined forces with Russia, which had pushed Frederick the Great into a corner. We cannot avoid or retreat from this fight. Fortunately, our army is well-prepared to win against any enemy, and we are not weak enough to easily allow defeat.

However, this war cannot be fought with just iron and blood. The current war is different from the Bismarck era. If we are to raise the flag of victory in the forests of France, the cities of Poland, and the plains of Russia, we must endlessly produce the ammunition and weapons demanded by the front line. Tremendous sacrifices and immense resources that were unimaginable in previous wars will be required. The government alone cannot bear this burden. This war is a total war that can only be won if all Germans participate.”

If the entire empire is not prepared to endure sacrifice, we cannot defeat them.

I ask the German people. Are you prepared to fight until the moment of final victory, shedding tears of blood? Do you have the heart to chew on turnips instead of warm bread and drink boiled tree bark instead of coffee? Are you ready to give up holidays and leisure and prepare to tighten bolts in the factory?

Intentionally imitating a mentally disabled person, I clenched my fist and shouted loudly.

“Yes!”

The members of parliament pounded their desks and shouted. It wasn’t so much excitement about my speech as it was the fear of being labeled a traitor if they didn’t do something. This is the applause that is pushed out.

“If we stand together as one, Greater Germany will prevail. We will lead the great Teuton on the path of destined glory, trampling over Paris and St. Petersburg and forcing their surrender. That is the destiny of the German Empire bestowed by God! We will show the price our enemies have paid for opposing Germany in the name of the Empire. Germany, advance toward victory!”

“Germany! The greatest Germany! The most outstanding Germany in the world!”

The members of parliament stood up and responded loudly, shouting the first verse of the German national anthem. The wave of patriotism engulfed the assembly. This scene is just like what I saw in the movie “The Birth of Evil.” It feels exactly like Hitler.

“Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!”

Get rid of that sound! It reminds me of a mentally disabled person.

“Sieg Reich! Sieg Kaiser!”

That’s better. Let’s go with that.

I came down from the podium, hearing the thunderous applause.

The speech, filled with patriotic sentiments and embellished with rhetoric, was a typical example of the cringeworthy syndrome of a middle schooler.

But as someone who had entered the war in the name of Bergmannism, there was a need to willingly swallow such a weak potion. After all, when you ride the coin of nationalism, people become strange. Like X-dan meat or Continental X.

“It was an impressive speech, Your Majesty.”

Edouard Bernstein, the giant of the Social Democratic Party, approached and requested a handshake. The German Social Democratic Party stood on the side of the Second International, a gathering of socialist parties, advocating for anti-war positions. In other words, they were the “red” party that argued against going to war.

However, when the war broke out, their stance changed, although not completely. It may have been a conscious effort to appeal to the voters, or it could have been the failure of the labor movement that led them to shift their focus to pragmatism.

“Reds with a taste of apple.”

The Commies were fundamentally enemies of the monarchy, but the apple-flavored ones were a group willing to compromise with the regime. Of course, they were the ones who would stab you in the back and seize power given the opportunity.

Didn’t they do the same in the previous episode?

I’m not someone who believes in theories like the puppet master theory, but I remember it vividly from personal experience.

The German Emperor’s throne, the position of the Prussian King, they were all plundered by these Commies.

But this time, they won’t be given the chance.

Even if it means pushing aside the image of the “Labor Kaiser” that the lame Emperor had in the early days of his reign.

I exchanged a brief glance with Bernstein and shook his hand.

“It’s just a manuscript written by the secretaries.”

I smiled, hiding my wariness.

“Anyway, I won’t forget the patriotic decision the Social Democrats showed this time. I hope for a lot of cooperation in the future.”

So, don’t let your guard down. It won’t happen to me this time.

“Rest assured. We will fulfill our obligations as members of the Imperial Council.”

As long as I’m winning, that’s how it’ll be.

Isn’t it the Commies’ habit to change masks when it benefits them?

After exchanging a few words with Bernstein, I paused my steps as I left the hospital.

To boost the morale of the Imperial Council, which was treated as a giant puppet of the Emperor, and to raise the spirits after the war, the phrase “To the German people” caught my eye on the front wall of the hospital.

“Dem deutschen Volke.”

In my Germany, I doubt I’ll ever see the day those words are kept.

* * *

1) A term used to refer to the Germanic people in ancient times.