Hitler's gamble - An alternative German Strategy

July 24th, 1939. The makeshift headquarters of Leo Geyr von Schweppenburg in the Harbour Master's office in the port of Karlskrone, Sweden. Some chairs were brought together from other rooms and a map of the Baltic Coastline of Sweden was hung up on the wall for a quick briefing. The Generals of the three Panzer-Divisions of III. Panzerarmeekorps were present with their staff.


- The XXII. Armeekorps and I. Panzerarmeekorps hold the line in the South and the West. Göteborg is already secured, and there's little to no opposition in the South. Most of the known enemy forces are located to the West of Stockholm, the rest is hopelessly trying to form a line around Värnamo. Our objective is to take the Swedish capital here. Erwin and Erich, you will be surrounding the city from the South and the West respectively, while Heinz will secure your flank from any threat from the dispersed Swedish forces if necessary. It shouldn't be, just in case. There will be no air cover again, but you are probably used to that by now. The Corps HQ will stay at Oskarshamn so we can stay in radio range with General von Kleist back in Germany. That, again, shouldn't cause any trouble. That's all, gentlemen! Dismissed.



August 1st, 1939. The port city of Norrköping, Sweden. Wilhelm was on leave for two hours while the logistical staff arranged for the supply shipments to be brought into the port, then the Division will move on towards the capital. Two hours may not seem long, but after a week of constant advance, it means a lot to a soldier.


He decided to take a look around in the port first. It was in a very good shape, considering the circumstances. It was war, after all, although, he didn't meet any soldiers so far. This campaign was more like a vacation than a military operation. Even in Denmark, there was at least some opposition. Here, the populace seemed like they didn't even care. They carried on with their normal lives. Not that it really bothered Wilhelm though. It was definitely preferable over Martial Law.

After some walking, he entered a bar to have a quick drink before the opportunity passes. The tavern was small, suited for only a handful of customers, but it was very clean for a harbour public house. To his surprise, he found his old acquaintance, Jürgen Blücher, the supplies officer turned intelligence analyst sitting at the counter, with a beer in his hands.


- Jürgen! How come I always run into you in pubs like this?

- Wilhelm! Good to see you, old friend! Sit down! Well, I guess this is the only kind of place we both frequent. Although, I don't go out that often actually.

- And what brings you here?

- This is a port. I work with supplies. Figure the rest out yourself. - Jürgen was still working for Military Intelligence, and by now he learnt that telling your current assignments to people is not always the best course of action. - I assume you are here with your Division, and on a leave for a few hours before you move on.

- And you would be right. Your line of work has its privileges it seems. - Wilhelm noticed that someone was knocking on his shoulders. He turned around to look into the face of a Swedish sailor or fisherman.

- [Hardly intelligible garble, probably in Swedish, or maybe in an old dialect of Alcoholic.] - the man's breath clearly identified him as a fisherman, after lunch or at least after the aperitif. Lots of it.

- Yeah, yeah, sure. - Wilhelm turned to Jürgen. - Did you understand a word?

- I don't speak Gibberish, sorry. - Jürgen was amused by the scene. Working in an office didn't provide too much excitement for him. The man didn't appreciate being laughed at and tried to grab Jürgen now.

- [More unintelligible garble with lots of exclamation marks.] - Jürgen avoided the slow punch from their new friend, while Wilhelm delivered one of his own right to the face of the fisherman. The resulting fistfight ensured that neither Wilhelm nor Jürgen had a leave for nearly a month.



August 3rd, 1939. Berlin, the Ministry of Propaganda and Enlightment, office of Herr Weber, Head of War News. Herr Weber was putting on a record. One of Wagner's lesser known pieces: Das Liebesmahl der Apostel (The Love Feast of the Apostles). It started out with the twelve Apostels in a cacophonic disarray. Someone was knocking on the door.

- Come in! - said Herr Weber. Martin Lederer, the young employee of the Ministry entered the office. He was summoned by Herr Weber. - Oh, Martin! Sit down!

- Thank you, Sir!

- How is your recent work on the success of our mighty army in Poland coming along? - The latest assignment of Martin concerned the exceptional effectiveness of the Wehrmacht in Fall Weiss. He already made the base outline of the article and he was in the process of assorting the pictures he could use. The war-photographers did a fine job.

- Very good, Sir! The deadline you gave me will be more than enough to finihs the job.

- Excellent! - The Apostels were coming together in a crescendo. - Do you know Wagner?

- Yes, Sir. But only the more famous ones of his pieces, I'm afraid.

- Good. One can't understand National Socialism without understanding Wagner. The words of our Führer!

- I agree completely, Sir.

- Anyway, this is not why I called you. - The Heavenly Chorus came down from the heights of the nave. - Did you get this report? - Herr Weber handed over a piece of paper to Martin. The young man quickly ran through the paper, reporting a concentration of Swedish troops in Finspang. - What's your excuse?

- I don't understand, Sir. Is this my fault? - Martin was confused. His first thought was that maybe his writings found their way into the hands of the Swedish High Command, but he had no idea why that would be the reason for a counter-attack to cut off the Panzer-Divisions advancing towards Stockholm, which is perfectly logical on its own in the first place.


- Of course not. How would a perfectly logical Swedish counter-attack be your fault?! No. But you claimed that the Swedish are only faking resistance, without actually opposing our Armies. How do you explain a maneuver on this scale, then?

- You said it yourself, this is a perfectly logical attack. Their whole facade would be jeopardized, did they not make this attack.

- And do you think your average citizen will realize this? I don't think so. He will think that we wanted to mislead them earlier. Or even worse, that we ourselves were wrong! And don't even think about telling them in an article that this is only a fake attack again. That would be ridiculous.

- You are right, Sir. It really is a tough question... - Here came an unexpected intervention by the orchestra, soon to accompany in all its vastness the descent of the Holy Spirit, in a triumphant ensemble. Martin got an idea. - Then how about simply reporting the attack in a plain, objective manner, but also publish an article on military strategy? Feint attacks, in particular? One with low predicted casualties, only meant to pin down the enemy forces. With our forces this close to Stockholm, the campaign can't really last too long now, so such an attack shouldn't be too costly for them. The average citizen would surely be able to make the connection on his own! He would even feel himself pretty clever, telling his average wife and his average colleagues...

- Brilliant! Your current assignment is on hold indefinitely! Go and start your research on military strategy immediately! - "This boy may even get somewhere!" thought Herr Weber.

- Yes, Sir! - Martin left the office and went straight to the archives of the Ministry.



August 4th, 1939. Outside of Rommel's mobile headquarters on the outskirts of Stockholm, capital of Sweden.

- Our job is to pin their forces down while von Manstein gets behind their backs. The reconnaissance teams tell me that their defences are meager at best, which is good because the counter-attack started yesterday still keeps Guderian with his Panzer-Division from this battle.

Major General Rommel was standing at the end of the HQ, with a map of Stockholm in his hands. He intended to lead a daring attack with a handful of his tanks, while the rest of the Division forms up around the city. Because the Corps HQ was left behind Oskarshamn, he had to install a bulky, ugly and unwieldy radio so he can keep in touch with his superior, but for that, he had to throw out the table he used for his maps before. Now he had to stop for making plans. And he knew that von Schweppenburg stayed that far away only to annoy him with that radio thing! His driver took this rare opportunity to relieve himself at the side of the road. He was almost done when he noticed the noise and looked up.

- Take cover! - shouted the driver. - Bombers! - and the bombers were already there, starting a strafing run over the column of tanks. Thankfully, there were no lives lost in that attack as the 40mm armour on the Panzerkampwagen IIIB was enough to deflect the heavy bullets of the bombers, but the bulky radio was destroyed, and the engine compartment of the HQ was also hit, making it immobile. This far to the North, air cover was possible.

- That's just great! - Now that the radio was no more, Rommel was almost as furious as when he recieved it. - Now we are not only cut off from Corps HQ, but the rest of the Division as well. Wilhelm, you might actually need to do something for a change. - He turned around, looking for the leading tank of the platoon with him. The Captain leading that platoon was standing next to his vehicle, waiting for orders.

- Karl! Come here! - Karl Ostenburg, commander of the platoon hurried over to the damaged halftrack. - I'll take command of your platoon here, while you will go with my runner, aquire a car or truck or tractor or whatever, I don't care, and distribute my orders. - He took out a piece of paper from his luggage under the seat in the HQ. It was a prepared order-sheet, made for an occasion just like this. He quickly wrote the orders on it down to the platoon level, including a scetched map with positions and objectives. He gave the order to Wilhelm, climbed the Panzer IIIB, and closed the hatch. The tanks rolled out towards the city.

Wilhelm allowed himself a quick glance of the map before he put it in his pocket. Rommel was about to attack the Southern Railway Station of Stockholm, while the rest of his Division was supposed to set up a periminter. A risky plan, considering the necessary time to even get the orders to the troops and the fact that the Railroad Station was in Söndermalm, behind a river, with only a couple of bridges. Maybe Major General Rommel is a gambling man after all.


- Alright, let's move! - said Karl. He took the loss of his tank and his platoon relatively well, considering the circumstances. Still, they were practically left behind in enemy territory, armed only with the MP38 of Wilhelm, Karl's Luger and a few clips of ammo, and the order of the day for the entire Division. - We need to get a vehicle as soon as possible.

- Right. - Wilhelm looked around. The city was still a few kilometers away. - We will have to get back to the last village we came through on our way. I believe I saw a truck there.

- Better than nothing. Let's go!

It took them at least half an hour to reach the village on foot. It was a very small settlement, only a few dozens of houses with a church. The inhabitants were obviously afraid of them: two soldiers of the enemy marching through the country; but they were also curious. As the Panzer-Divisions didn't meet any resistance, they didn't really fight either, so there was only minimal damage done. The objective of the Corps was to take Stockholm, and their way there was unmolested for the most part. The Germans almost looked like tourists. With weapons. And tanks. Wilhelm kept his machine gun on his back.

The two men went straight to the two-story building in the middle of the village, that had the most important look. It was the mayor's residence and office. Karl knocked on the front door.

- Do you speak Swedish? - asked Karl.

- No. Do you?

- I'm afraid not... - a short, middle-aged man opened the door. He was the mayor. Sawing them from his window, he thought that he should handle a task of such diplomatic importance personally.

- How I help you? - he spoke with a very strong accent, but at least it was German. Sort of.

- We need a car. - stated Karl. The mayor didn't expect this, he thought they would be after some food or looking for someone. The German Army seemed fully motorized to him when they ran through the village. He was actually worried about the possible damage they might cause to the roads with their tanks.

- I'm sorry, this is not wealthy village. We no have cars. - Wilhelm started to look around, and noticed the truck he saw on the way, in the backyard of the mayor's house.

- What about that truck?


- Oh, no! That you can't take! That is my truck, we need it to bring food from Stockholm! - He was starting to get worried.

- I'm not asking for favours - said Karl, pulling his gun. - Give me the keys to the truck! Now!

- But I... You can't... - Now the mayor was really worried.

- Karl! - Wilhelm reached for his own gun. - Put that away. - He then turned to the mayor. - We would only borrow it for a few days, and you will be compensated afterwards. It won't even have a scratch on it, I promise!

- Well... Alright! But you promised! - The mayor was reliefed. Now he made a good deal. "My diplomatic skills are truly amazing!" he thought to himself.


Index

August 6th, 1939. Berlin, home of Martin Lederer. The young man was still thinking about the war in Sweden while packing for a week long vacation in Munich. Only the stubbornness of the Swedish cabinet was in the way of finally stabilizing the situation in the North, even Gustaf V, King of Sweden was convinced that the war was lost, and any further resistance is futile. That very day, Stockholm, capital of the kingdom surrendered to the siege of Major General Rommel and Major General von Manstein. The King himself remained in Drottningholm Palace, a few kilometers west of Stockholm, guarded by German troops.

By then, it became obvious, that even though the King was convinced to end the war, the cabinet was not. This didn't exactly prove Martin's earlier assumption of the Swedish wrong, far from it. The Swedish Armed Forces were officially under the Minister of Defence, an appointed member of the Cabinet, but the soldiers themselves, similarly to the other two Scandinavian Kingdoms, swore to the King, which put them into a rather complex situation. Their Superem Commander ordered them to fight on, while their King already surrendered. But the constitution didn't permit the King to dissolve the Government, nor had he the power to surrender in the name of his country. The only solution to this problem was to capture the cabinet, and force them to resign, allowing Gustaf V to form a new Government.


But capturing the Sweidsh capital was not enough. The cabinet fled to Falun, a relatively insignificant mining town a few days to the north-west of Stockholm, with Von Manstein and his Panzer-Division on their track. "It shouldn't last much longer now. They really don't have anywhere to run anymore, so they will probably surrender within a week. But I won't be around to worry about that! I really deserve this vacation I managed to arrange for myself! Of course, it would be even better, if I could go to somewhere more interesting, but Munich will do." - Martin loved his job, but it could become very tedious at times, and some refershment was necessary every now and then.



August 8th, 1939. Munich. Martin, who was on vacation for the week, visited his old friend and stayed for supper. Anna was unfortunatelly at work that evening, but they planned to visit her at the café later on. Martin went to the shop just before closing, and they walked home together, talking about different things like sports, culture and women.

- You know, I think the problem is that I'm too handsome. - Martin was explaining why he doesn't have any luck with the ladies while they were climbing the stairs to Hans' home.

- Yeah, right... - Hans was not convinced.

- But seriously! Every time I meet a nice girl somewhere and I ask them out, they can't believe they had such luck and find some stupid excuse to turn me down! I mean, what else could it be? I'm young, single, good looking, I have a well-paying government job, a payed appartment, I live in the capital of Europe and I can talk about anything, anytime!

- Well, maybe that is the problem? You talk too much...

- Really? - Martin was surprised. He never thought of that before. - Nah, you most be joking, right? I'm the perfect audience! I can listen to people telling me their stories, troubles, feelings, worries, interests or whatever they might want to tell me for hours, if I want to!

- You can listen to yourself for hours, that's for sure. - They reached the door. Hans opened it while taking his mail out of the mailbox, then they entered the appartment.

- I have my way with words, I guess. Must be because of my occupation. You know, I'm a kind of a modern bard, a poet, a minstrel, a troubadour. A Minnesänger! That's it! Maybe I should write songs or learn to play some instruments... But I would need too find the fitting lady first! I can't waste my talent on some random nobody!... What? What is it? Hans?

Hans was sitting at the table, with a letter in his hands. It was from the Ministry of War.

- It says - his voice was like he has just seen a ghost - I have to report to the recruitment center closest to where I live... I'm drafted...

- What?! Give me that! - Martin took the letter and started reading it. There was no mistake, Hans fell into the age group to be conscripted, he was a healthy adult, and the letter said he is needed by the Fatherland. - But we are winning the war! Why would they need to start conscription?! Where's your phone?!

- Living room... - Hans' voice was still lifeless. He has plans with his life! He can't go to war now!

- Thanks. - he went right for the phone and called his superior at home. It was past his working hours, but Martin was the best in his whole department. He knew who to call this time. He won't let another one of his friends being taken away. - Herr Weber? It's Martin Lederer... Why, thank you Sir, it was very nice until a moment ago... Oh, I tell you what happened. My best friend just got a letter from the Ministry of War, telling him to report at the next conscription office!... Yes, it is a problem... Why? We were doing pretty well in the war, why would the Army need more recruits?... Are you serious, Sir? Kiel sounds like a very bad target for an invasion...


- Anyway, I think letting my friend being drafted would be a waste. You see, he is quite unstable emotionally. Not the best material for being a soldier... No, Sir, I don't think he would. You see, he doesn't have any formal education, so he would go right to the front, if they can get their hands on him... No, he is a very bright young lad, manager of a very successful shop at the moment... Yes, Sir. Anyway, I firmly believe, that I could use him at the office... Well, for one thing, he is a very good example of the average German citizen. I could consult him about propaganda posters, slogens, inspirational songs and speaches, things like that... No, he has no experience with this, and that would make him the perfect subject for testing the effects of our work! His mind is not clouded by theoretical knowledge about psychology, so his reactions would be completely genuine! He is rather naive as well... And there's another reason, too. You see, his mother is a very old, sick women. - Martin knew the way to the heart of his boss. Herr Weber had deep feelings about her own mother, which he never tried to hide from others. - She couldn't bear it if her son were to be taken to the front... Thank you, Sir, you won't regret it! If you don't mind, I will return from my vacation a bit earlier. Say, tomorrow?... Yes, Sir, I will!... Thank you, Sir!... Good evening, Sir!

Martin returned to the dinning room, where Hans still couldn't decide if he should be fainting or simply die on the spot.

- Pack your most important stuff as quickly as you can. You are coming with me to Berlin.

- Wha'?... You want me to evade conscription?

- Well, you could say that, yes.

- But that would be even worse! That's like deserting! They could shoot me for that!

- You won't be deserting. You will become an employee of a Reichsministry, and thus no longer suspect of being conscripted.

- Me? An employee of a Reichsministry? But how? - Hans was still shocked, but he was comming together.

- You can take three guesses...

- And what will I do? I don't anything about education or enlightment (whatever that is)...

- You will be fine, don't worry. I'll tell you everything on the way!

- What about Anna?

- Hmm. A good question. Do you love her?

- Of course I do! I love her more than anything!

- Does she love you too?

- Well... Yes, I believe she does...

- Then the problem is solved. We will take her as well. Let's go get her right now! We will need to get to Berlin by tomorrow morning!



August 14th, 1939. Asögatan 108, Stockholm. Temporary Headquarters of Major General Erwin Rommel. Rommel was organizing some paperwork and field reports. He didn't like doing this job one bit. He always felt that he could do so much more on the field than sitting in an office, pushing papers. And it turned from bad to worse the day before, when the Swedish Supreme Commander finally decided that the word of the King takes precedence over the machinations of the cabinet, and ordered the entire Swedish Armed Forces to put down their weapons. Now it was Rommel's job to organize peace in the capital. It was yet undicided what will be the fate of the once independent nation of Sweden, but the most likely outcome was that it would become a part of the German Reich as the Sovereign Province of Sweden, with its King still as the symbol of power, and a German governor (the Reichskomissar) would be responsible for guarding peace and order. There was a lot of paperwork to be done. Still, if that's his task, he will do it to the best of his abilities.

Someone was knocking on the door. "That must be Captain von Walsrode!" He recieved an application for a transfer from Wilhelm earlier that day, and asked him to his office.

- Wilhelm, my boy! Sit down!

- Sir.

- So, you want to be transfered back to Germany. May I ask you why? Don't you like working for me?

- No, Sir, that's not the case at all. But I would prefer to get back to the front, Sir.

- And that's why you asked for a transfer back to boot camp?

- Sir, I would like to recieve training for armoured warfare, and serve in a Panzer.

- I see. Look, if you want more experience so you can advance in your career, you don't really need that. You've been a staff officer in the last three campaigns, and you are a veteran of the Spanish Civil War. You have enough field experience. Heck, you have more field experience than most of the Generals I know!

- No, Sir. I think I'm still young enough to work on the field. To be honest, I don't feel confortable being a staff officer. With all due respect, Sir, I believe I could serve my Fatherland better on the frontline.

- How nice of you to think that you can decide better how you should serve than your superiors. What an admireable quality...

- If you have objections, you have the authority to deny my request, Sir. But I still stand by my decision.

- You know what? Maybe you would serve the Reich better on the frontline. To be honest, your behaviour is not always fit for an officer of the Wehrmacht - Rommel was refering to the incident in a certain bar in Norrköping. - I believe some discpiline would do you good! I will aprove of your request. But once you are done with the tank-training, you will be back in my Division. I want you where I can see you so you don't cause too much trouble!

- Thank you, Sir! You won't regret it, Sir! - Wilhelm saluted and left immediately to pack his belongings. He wanted to get back to Germany with the first transport possible.

"No, I won't, I'm sure about that. Let's hope you won't regret it either."



August 20th, 1939. Berlin, the appartment rented by Hans and Anna. The events two weeks earlier only strenghtened their relationship. Anna accepted the offer to go with Hans without hesitation, quiting her job immediately. They were on a train within the hour. Then they spent the first few days at Martin's, but could manage to find an affordable rent very quickly. Anna started to work at a post office and Hans was employed by the Ministry of Education and Enlightment the next day. On that day, Hans proposed to Anna, which she gladly accepted. They planned their marriage for some time in the spring of 1940. They even had plans for their honeymoon: Anna always wanted to see Florence, and Hans wasn't against the idea either. Spring can be very nice in Italy. He actually wanted to travel to someplace more exotic than this on such an important and unique occasion, but with this whole war business, they were lucky to even be able to travel anywhere.

Anna was cooking dinner. She was a brilliant cook, Hans loved her for it that much more. So much so, that he started to wonder about opening a restaurant, when the war is over. Working as a waitress or in a post office wasn't really suitable for her. Not that she was bad at these jobs, no, not at all. She was great at everything, with her openness and her beautiful smile. But she deserved better than that!

- Did you read the newspaper this morning? - Hans was interrupted in his daydreaming.

- Sorry? Oh, no, I didn't. Did anything important happen?

- See for yourself! - Anna was so brilliant in her cooking skills that she had time to look through the newspaper as well as cleaning up in the small appartment while the soup was on and the meal was in the oven. Hans was truely amazed. Then he took up the newspaper and started reading.

For whatever reason, he started reading it in the middle. Maybe he saw it in the movies, or learnt it from his father, when he was a boy, but he always thought that you should start reading the newspaper by opening it in the middle, and get into it right away. Thus, he missed the cover story at first. There were some minor reports about the economical growth, new premiers at the theatre and the cinemas, a new record of Marlene Dietrich and an article about promotions in the Wehrmacht. There were also battle reports about the still going "invasion" of Kiel. It was truly amazing how stubborn those British, Spanish and now New Zealander soldiers are, to try and land on German soil over and over and over again, without even the slightest chance of success. Stupid, but amazingly brave at the same time.

Then he was ready to put the paper down and prepare for dinner, when he noticed the front cover. There was a huge picture of the Prime Minister and the Governor General of Canada and George VI, King of the United Kingdom and the Dominions of the British Empire and Emperor of India. The occasion was that Canada joined the war on the side of the so-called Western Allies. That in itself would be of negligable importance (other Dominions were already involved in the war), but the former incidents between the United States of America and Canada were still hurting their mutual relations, and now with the official joining of the later into the aforementioned faction, now the consequences were starting to be felt in the United Kingdom and France as well.


Many consider the role of the United States vital in the Great War, and their potential involvement in the current war couldn't be underestimated either. The only question was which side they would take, if they do get involved. Events like the gathering support of the German-American Bund and the friction between the USA and Canada are signs that the Sleeping Giant is not too eager to join the "Allied Cause", despite the recent diplomatic consequences of all German shipping stopping to and from the American continent. And even that was ultimately caused by the United Kingdom's policy of destroying any German ships, regardless of them being warships or simple merchants... Some defenders of freedom they are! The hypocrats!....

But Hans couldn't remain angry about this issue after having such a wonderful dinner with his soon to be bride at his side. He was the luckiest man alive, that much is for certain.



The dangerous situation was resolved peacefully just in time with the assistance of German Minister of Foreign Affairs, Joachim von Ribbentrop. The neutrality of Norway was about to be compromised, but disaster was avoided.

But how could that have happened? Who would want to attack a peaceful, non-belligerent nation such as Norway? The imperialistic British Empire, of course, who else? As to why, the reason is obviously to threaten the Northern flank of our Great Reich. They are starting to become desperate: their invasion attempt at Kiel quickly turned into a bloodbath.
On August 31, German Military Intelligence intercepted a message sent to the British Battlecruiser, the HMS Renown, directly from the Admirality, and yesterday they managed to break the code. It contained details about a certain "Operation Wilfred", the laying of naval mines along the coast of Norway, where a significant part of the Norwegian merchant marine operates, and which provides the living for all the Norwegian fishermen. Such an act would have been a direct violation of Norway's neutrality, but meddling into other people's affairs is nothing new for the British. It is very easy to calculate the obvious next step: an outright invasion of Norway!
After the code was broken, Military Intelligence contacted the Ministry of Foreign Affairs immediately to let them know about the danger threatening our Northern neighbour. The Ministry sent a quick communique to Oslo, informing them that Joachim von Ribbentrop is to be expected for an emergency visit that very day. Von Ribbentrop took off in an airplane, and arrived at the German Embassy in Oslo later that evening. He had a quick conversation on the telephone with Johan Nygaardsvold, Prime Minister of Norway, explaining the situation to him, but he was not successful: Nygaardsvold didn't want to believe that the decadent Western imperialists would betray him like that.
But von Ribbentrop is not someone who gives up easily. No! After consulting the German ambassador, Cecil von Renthe-Fink (who was appointed to the Scandinavian country after his previous assignment in Denmark became obsolete), they decided that the crisis must be solved immediately with whatever tools necessary, for the sake of the Reich and the free people of Norway. Enough blood was shed already in Scandinavia, no need to open another front!
Von Renthe-Fink suggested to von Ribbentrop to contact a certain Vidkun Quisling. This man, an Army Officer, served as Minister of Defence between 1931 and 1933 and is the founder of the Nasjonal Samling, or National Gathering, which is more or less the Norwegian equivalent of our National Socialist Germans Workers' Party. It couldn't achieve the magnificant success of our Führer, but it was a start. And similar to how our Führer, Adolf Hitler was called by his poeple in its time of need, Vidkun Quisling was called in the time of need of his own people, when they were on the doorstep of a insidious, traitorous attack from the British Empire!


Von Ribbentrop called Quisling immediately to arrange a meeting with him at the Embassy. After some further consideration, the three men came to the conclusion that Haakon VII, King of Norway himself must be confronted, and convinced that Nygaardsvold is no longer fit to lead the nation. But he was not available. As later turned out, he was on his way to London! According to the Military Intelligence, he recieved a warm welcome, and he was obviously part of the conspiracy all along!
With an unfit Prime Minister and the King unavailable, there was no other diplomatic solution, and came the time for action. Quisling explained his plan to von Ribbentrop, and the Foriegn Minister assured him of German support. Kristian Laake, Commanding General of the Norwegian Armed Forces was quickly contacted, and he assured the two that he would support Quisling, if that helps avoiding involvement in the War. With that, it became clear that there was no possible opposition for Quisling in forming his new government to prevent the catastrophy before it was too late. Quisling and von Ribbentrop went right to the headquarters of the Norwegian Broadcasting Corporation and Quisling read an announcement explaining that the King, conspiring to bring the country under British rule has fled to London, his government is dissolved and a new, National government is formed lead by him. He also announced that from that moment, Norway is no longer a Kingdom but a Republic, and once the situation allows, General Elections will be called. Furthermore, he assured the people of Norway that he will not allow the country to be brought into the war by foreign powers nor by conspiring traitors from within.


And thus, the conflict was averted. German forces crossed the border from former Sweden into Norwegian territory to help defend against the potential invasion, which convinced the British of their foolish mistake, and according to Military Intelligence, Operation Wilfred was called off. Norway is officially under the protection of the German Reich, and with the element of surprise lost, attacking our Nordic neighbour has no advantages for our enemies. Norway is saved, thanks to Joachim von Ribbentrop!


Martin Lederer




Index