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Alptraum (Nightmare)
An Alternative History Affair
By TekcoR

Thorns in the West


During our offensive into the west I received what I thought was phone call that I thought was a drill. “The Americans have landed outside of Amsterdam!” shouted a local commander. I wonder if the Americans knew that it was far from their supply bases in England and that the Netherlands was our staging ground for our Luftwaffe based personnel – the fierce Fallschrim Armee that consisted of ten paratrooper divisions and five panzer divisions. When I was on leave a few months before the Soviet betrayal, I had the chance to visit Amsterdam and meet with a few of the troopers. All I can say is, they are tough as hell and their defensive work is some of the best I’ve seen in the Reich.


The American invasion during the offensive in the East that recaptured Danzig.​

But nonetheless, the Americans decided to invade. I’m not sure if it was the overwhelming force that the Americans brought, but the airborne troopers were caught in a fight for their life. Ten days after the invasion (which began September 5th), the Americans had captured the city of Amsterdam and forced the surrender of one of our divisions. Fromm was busy inspecting the Eastern Front at the time, thus in his name I ordered the departure of 10 Light Infantry (Jager) divisions from the Reserve Armee to assist in containing the invasion. Reports later stated that the British had decided to also reinforce their American compatriots.

By November 8th, I received word that our counter-offensive began shortly after the arrival of the ten light infantry divisions. After a few days of fighting, the Americans; which to this point I can tell had seen as much combat as a thirteen year old city boy – that is to say none – had been repulsed back to Amsterdam which was once again in our hands by November 12th. Our forces continued to reclaim the lost territory – the American tanks were inferior to our Panzer IV and Vs; which had been designed to counter the superior Soviet tanks we witnessed in 1942.

I was looking forward to the end of the month. Not because of the victories that we were getting, but I was getting the chance to return home for a few weeks. I live in Norddeich, a small town in East Friesland pretty close to the Dutch border. My leave starts December first. But before I can go I do have to finish filing and filling out requests for replacements. On the last day before my leave, I quickly read over the latest news from the front.


“November 27th – Nine Yankee Divisions trapped at Den Helder,” which was soon accompanied by “November 31st – Yankees surrender. Franklin Roosevelt vows to continue the war until the last man.” With that out of the way, I left for what would hopefully be a great three weeks home with my family. It’s been quite awhile, over a year and a half. I’m excited yet terrified. I think I have changed quite a bit and might not be recognized by my beautiful kids.


 
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If FDR keeps loosing divisions at this pace, soon his promise of fighthing to the last man will be true.
 
Total of nine.
 
Was on vacation past few days, will begin picking this up again.
 
Alptraum (Nightmare)
An Alternative History Affair
By TekcoR

God Damn War


I woke up in the middle of the night after my first day home. Sweat was dripping from my forehead onto my pillow. I thought I had screamed and wondered when my mother or father would come running into my bedroom and asking if everything was alright. After a few minutes I came to the realization that I had not screamed and brought myself back to sleep after a few minutes. On recollection it is easy to clear your mind to sleep. It really is an acquired skill after a day worth bullets whizzing past your head.

----------------------------------------------------------------------​

“Colonel,” said a young man who I immediately recognized to be my nephew. “Colonel,” he repeated, this time a bit more concerned. Finally he said, “Uncle, are you okay?” I had heard him before, but apart of me thought he would go away after awhile. I wanted to be anywhere but here. Here was Warsaw. Well, just outside of it. It was mere days after I had been appointed Chief of Staff for Heeresgruppe Mitte. I made a promise to my older brother, Joseph that I’d watch after his son as best as I could.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked at his boyish face that had been scared by war there were still streaks and dots of mud that covered his cheeks. An artillery shell had landed near us yesterday on June 4th, my first full day as Chief of Staff. Would it have been sad, of my first day of the job I end up dead. Luckily it was a dud and we scurried away from the incident. “Yes, yes, what is it Rhiley,” I asked.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” he said slightly hesitating. “I don’t think dad would ever forgive you if I were to die in this forsaken place.”

I nodded knowing that he wouldn’t. “I hear that. Let’s make sure we don’t get anymore close calls with shells again. Even if it is a dud like yesterday.” We both nodded and went off to accomplish the tasks at hand. That was the last day we were within Warsaw for 1943.

----------------------------------------------------------------------​

Today is December 7th. I’ve been back home for not even a full week. I received a letter from Wilhelm Canaris today. I had an uneasy feeling about this letter before even opening it. Why was the head of Abwehr, who I had been in contact with before personally writing a letter to me? Didn’t he know I was back at home? I was away from the war.

I’m glad I decided to sit down at the table before opening the letter. Canaris, who had developed many contacts in Spain before the war and since the war, had been informed that Franco could no longer remain neutral. Spain’s neutrality had been bought for by Canaris’s intervention beforehand, and British money, but now with the Reich teetering and the Allies unable to establish a foothold on Europe, Britain and the United States offered more financial aid to the beleaguered nation. Canaris had good sources within the government that Spain’s intervention would come within a week or two.

As much as I wished for the inevitable to not happen, I received a call a few days later on December 13th from Fromm that my leave had been terminated and I was to make my way to Paris as fast as possible. At first I questioned why Paris, but I quickly put two and two together and remembered what Canaris had mentioned. I spent a few minutes grabbing my belongings that I had brought home and wished my kids farewell. I made a last stop before being picked up by Rhiley in the car.

“Good bye,” is all I could say.

“I understand Tristan,” my eldest living brother said. “God damn war,” he said before we both repeated it.

 
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So Spain is going to join the dance on the Allied side. A bad idea, Franco, a bad idea.
 
Alptraum (Nightmare)
An Alternative History Affair
By TekcoR

Cold Sand


News had been disappointing since I first received it back in Norddeich. Franco’s betrayal had just added to the nightmare that we as a collective people are facing. Hitler has expressed outrage and contempt for the Franco who he had adamantly supported in the Spanish Civil War. Another enemy joined the list of allies, and all I could wish was that I would soon be relieved of my duties. I no longer wanted to fight, but I fear that if I do not, what I hold dear will be forfeit.

I am not sure how many times I have said this war has been pointless. It grows ever closer to impossibly unbearably with every day. On the train ride to Paris, I had received additional reports that the Allies were planning a major offensive to coincide with their new found might. Sure enough, that came on December 24th, when thousands of their soldiers landed at Calais, nearly unopposed. We faced a difficult choice. Stop the northern threat and lose southern France, or stop the southern threat only to lose all of France in vain?

Just days after the invasion, there was a communication from Hitler’s bunker that he had replaced Wilhelm Keitel and Alfred Jodl with Heinz Guderian and Julius Ringel to head the Wehrmacht. The new commanders, with whom I had never met before, only heard about, called for Hitler’s most unimaginable strategy – though we had done it once or twice before. We would retreat. We wouldn’t retreat from France, but to more defensible positions and let the Allies begin to overdraw their supply lines before striking.

This strategy paid off immediately. Within days of their appointment, the Allies landing at Calais had been contained and would begin being pushed into the sea. This would be completed by February 14th. Though most American and British divisions escaped, it is estimated that three unlucky divisions became prisoners of war. It was kind of disappointing. It very much reminded me of our situation in a bit. The Allies were throwing away thousands of men to liberate a country’s homeland. Here we are expending thousands of men to liberate parts of our country. In hindsight it seems kind of odd, but that is war.


The Allied advance into southern France by mid-February 1944.​

The Allies being contained at Calais and pushed into the sea was the least of our problems. The Americans and British had redirected their efforts to aiding the Spanish drive into southern France. Franco’s betrayal had complete caught us off guard. We had a grand total of four divisions along the border when rabble of troops began avalanching down the mountains. Retreat and withdraw was our game until reinforcements could be received from the north – which began trickling in on February 14th. First just a few regiments of the Fallschrimjager Armee, then a few battalions, followed by divisions, and with 20 divisions of the Goring’s warriors being in southern France by end of the month.

However, the arrival of the reinforcements would not be enough to stem the tide of the Allies as Bordeaux fell on the 24th of February. Mere hours before the fall of the city, whatever uboats we had left escaped from the city and began lurking around the ports of Spain in attempts to wreck whatever convoys they could. It would be futile I’d later found out. For every one thousand tons of shipping, we would be lucky to sink one ton. The days of the wolf pack were gone.

Our resistance stiffened with the arrival of the reinforcements, but we continued to be pushed back. Rumors were circulating the Guderian thought of transferring an elite SS formation from the Eastern Front to the sector. I received a request from Field Marshal Rommel requesting whatever reinforcements I could spare from the Reserve Army; however those resources were beyond scarce. Sure, Fromm and I had about the manpower of about twenty divisions, but they were spread out across the Greater German Reich defending key cities in case of uprisings, garrison duties or preparing for the unthinkable uprisings against the regime assisted by Allied paratroopers. The lack of manpower would lead to the fall of Toulouse on April 18th. We had fought tooth and nail against the Allied advance from March to mid-April. After the fall of Toulouse, the Allied advance was stalled.

 
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things are not looking good in France. on the other hand, if you do manage to reverse things, Franco's stupidity might allow you to strike South, heading for Gibraltar. after that, who knows?
 

Welcome aboard!

things are not looking good in France. on the other hand, if you do manage to reverse things, Franco's stupidity might allow you to strike South, heading for Gibraltar. after that, who knows?

We shall see where this goes. Next update or two might see that, but I can't release too many spoilers.

I hope you guys enjoy the table of contents on the first page, first post. Little excerpts of each "update" are posted on there. Also recently uploaded a new title image with the new official name of this Alternative History Affair. It is simply "Alptraum (Nightmare)".
 
Alptraum (Nightmare)
An Alternative History Affair
By TekcoR

Into the Bunker


It had been a day after the fall of Toulouse in Southern France and I had been summoned into the heart of Berlin to visit Hitler, who I had come to despise. The Reserve Army was a hot bed for anti-Hitler activity, but I did not willingly join such adventure. Hitler and the Nazi regime have a purpose within the Reich at the moment. However, I do not support Hitler to the level of fanaticism of several of my fellow officers.

General Guderian, Ringel and I within the headquarters of the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht a day before we received summons to Hitler’s bunker. We discussed in great detail the problems facing the Reich. Any offensive we planned for 1944 would have to be well calculated and reinforced to get superiority over the Russians. That was the problem, superiority. The Soviet bastards outnumbered us at least two to one on the entire front, their reserves were numberless. Any offensive would stall without a surprise attack as seen in the liberation of Danzig the previous fall.

The west as a nightmare, there were not enough divisions to defend the entire coast. The Americans and British frequently launched commando and scouting raids against parts of the Atlantic Wall to probe its weaknesses. In the south we were being rolled up until rather recently. I did not like the situation. Nobody did. What were we to do? We cannot simply abandon France and the Low Countries as some have called for. Yes, we would have enough divisions to gain superiority in local offensives; it would not outweigh the benefits. Our industry relied upon dozens of goods and materials manufactured in the occupied countries.

We could not simply march into Spain and gains hundreds of miles of additional coastline – we simply could not garrison it all! The Eastern Front, is such a dread. There is nothing we can do until we can receive reinforcements and that is only from the west. Yet, perhaps we can take a risk. We discuss withdrawing thirty divisions from the Eastern Front, twenty divisions of the elite SS Panzerarmee under Hausser, and ten light infantry divisions. We all strongly believe Hitler will disapprove. But we can’t be certain until we go into the bunker the next day.


A feast at Hitler's bunker in Berlin.​

“General Guderian,” Hitler says strongly, trying to cover up that he is not strong. His body has become frail, limping and hunched over. “General Ringel, it is a pleasure,” he continues, a powerful voice still being emitted from his vocal cords. “Ah, and final Colonel Schnack, I have heard much about your abilities for the Reich.”

“Heil Hitler!” we all respond after the Fuhrer ceases his praise upon us. Hitler motions us forward to the map, we notice he envisions has several armies listed on the map that we have no knowledge of. Delusion. Madman.

“Colonel Schnack,” he said after an eternal silence. “I understand that you have drawn up a solution for repelling the treachours bastard that Franco has allowed over the mountains?”

Wait. Was this happening? “Yes my Fuhrer. It is believed between Guderian, Ringel and I that the Soviets will not begin any offensive, our defensive preparations are too strong and well defended. Thus, we believe it is okay to withdraw thirty divisions from the Eastern Front to the Western Front. The divisions would mostly be withdrawn from Bavaria, along with Hausser’s Panzerarmee. There should be no additional reinforcements withdrawn from the east.”

Hitler nodded. “I believe I have heard enough. The bastard Franco must pay for all the good that I have done for him! Without me and Mussolini he would not be who he is today! You have your divisions along with the additional divisions from these armies,” he said pointing to the map.

We nodded, not caring to point out that the additional divisions the Fuhrer had cared to give us did not exist except on paper. That only paper they existed on was within this very room. Come to mention it, the handwriting on the map looked like Hitler’s. We decided it would be best to leave the room before anybody else noticed our apparent glee.

“Herr Schnack,” a raspy voice said as we were leaving the room. I turned back and noticed it was the Fuhrer speaking.

“Yes my Fuhrer?” I said, deeply worried that he had realized his mistake.

He stood up from his chair, but still remained hunched over the table that contained the map. “Congratulations on your promotion to major general.”

“Heil Hitler!” I said before finally allowing the door to close. A promotion has earned me a deception. Great. My brother was right. God damn war.


 
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Although I like the narrative, a few more maps would be great.

I'll see what I can do. There should be a few more screenshots available in the next few updates as we return to combat action.
 
If after this meeting Schnack doesn't see clearly that Hitler has to go...
 
If after this meeting Schnack doesn't see clearly that Hitler has to go...

There may still be some hesistation on killing Hitler, but I'm not sure how it will happen. I can also say the war does go on without Hitler.