I Became Stalin?!

Chapter 157

“Those bastards…”

“They’re insane! Hitler is clearly a madman!”

“They must be punished more severely!”

The pilots who returned from bombing Germany reported their findings to Stavka in no time. The outraged people condemned the Nazi fascists.

They hung war prisoners and civilians on the anti-aircraft guns to protect them from the fighter jets, hoping to induce guilt and a slight increase in armor effect. How could anyone think of such a thing?

What kind of human being could come up with such an idea? I wondered as I pondered what to do next.

The German army led by Model was retreating, but very slowly. As the front line moved back, the supply became relatively easier, and there were no partisans in the places that were not originally Soviet land, making sabotage difficult.

Even if we deployed Spetsnaz, they were less efficient than the partisans who knew the local geography. The local residents were not cooperative either.

The quality of the German army might decline, but their defense line was not powerless. 

The Soviet army had to pay a huge sacrifice to advance even 1km. The generals insisted that we should crush the German army at any cost.

But I had to think.

‘I have to… use the nuke?’

As the generals said, we could send tens of thousands of Soviet soldiers to Berlin. Many soldiers would die in the fierce urban warfare, but it was possible.

Or we could use the nuke. Even if we had to bear the infamy that would go down in history.

I had many reasons to think until the end between my honor and the lives of tens of thousands of Soviet soldiers. Should I hide it and use it as a secret weapon? Or should I reveal it to the world?

If I wanted to make Germany a satellite state, would it be a wise choice to leave them with a grudge for being hit by the nuke? Or would it be better to intimidate them with the fear of the nuke? When we wanted to reconcile in the future, would the plundering by the Soviet army in Germany work worse? Or would the nuclear bomb be worse?

The war was almost over and it was time to look to the future. I couldn’t stop worrying about how to use the ace card of the nuclear bomb to design that future.

Even if I knew the future, the nuclear bomb was only used twice in real history, and only in one country. I couldn’t deduce everything from the special relationship between Japan and the United States.

The air force commander Novikov seemed to be hesitating for some reason when he saw my serious expression.

“Novikov, what’s the matter with you? Don’t keep anything from me!”

“Ah… Comrade Leader! That… that is…”

Everyone’s eyes were on him. What happened in the bombing operation? Novikov’s face twisted as if he was about to cry.

“…Vasily Stalin, no, Zhugashvili was found in Berlin…”

“What? What did you say!”

***

Vasily Zhugashvili, who took off to defend the city from the German air raid on Pskov in '41, was reported to have been shot down. 

Only one plane out of the flight squad that took off with him was able to return, and the survivor said that all the other planes were shot down.

We had treated them as dead soldiers, as no parachutes were given to the penal units. But Vasily, who was shot down, was alive?

“The exact facts are unconfirmed! But according to the pilots, Germany propagandaed with placards and loudspeakers that ‘they captured the Leader’s son and tied him to the anti-aircraft tower’. The details are…”

Something snapped in my head.

“Beria, you order the French Resistance. Molotov, you contact the United States…”

“Yes! Comrade Leader!”

“And Novikov?”

“Yes, yes!”

The timid Novikov seemed to be terrified by this situation. But I was so angry that I couldn’t feel any anger. Borosilov seemed to want to say something, but I didn’t care.

“You must, you must order all the pilots who take off to kill that ‘Vasily Zhugashvili’. Do you understand?”

“Koba?”

“Yes?!”

“You must! You must make sure to kill that prisoner! This is the Leader’s order! Do you dare to disobey!”

My voice rose without me knowing. Borosilov was startled and called my nickname, but I didn’t care and fired at him.

Something hot ran down my cheek.

“Koba, what the hell…”

“Molotov, you connect the direct phone to Roosevelt quickly. And get out!”

Stalin made a decision.

***

“President Roosevelt. I have some good news for you today.”

[Oh, what news? Is the Soviet Union…?]

“Yes. Soon, we will join the war against Japan in the near future.”

Roosevelt laughed heartily on the other side of the phone. His voice sounded lively, unlike when we had a direct conversation last time because of McCarthy’s nonsense. 

He seemed to be in a very good mood.

But the atmosphere on this side of the phone was not so good. 

The translator was shaking as he looked at my reddened eyes and restless Molotov. 

He did his best to translate as I ordered.

“Germany will surrender and we will give them a month’s deadline. Then we will declare war and start the war against Japan. This will make it easier for the US army to expel the Japanese army from the Pacific.”

[That’s great news. Ah, my chest feels relieved.]

I closed my eyes slightly and leaned back on the sofa. The soft sofa supported my old body.

I covered my eyes with my hand and continued what I wanted to say.

“After we settle Germany, we should have a meeting to sort out the issues we will deal with in the future. The place… Potsdam would be appropriate, wouldn’t it?”

[No, but I heard from this side that Berlin is still far away. Are you saying that you’re ready to discuss that? I heard you’re marching towards Warsaw now…]

“That’s right. The President can expect it.”

[Hahahaha! I understand!]

He probably wanted to find out what the Soviet Union had, even as he said that. Any leader of a country would.

Well, he would find out soon enough.

We discussed some trivial issues for a while, such as the lend-lease materials that the United States could send us through the Atlantic route, or Japan’s will to continue the war, after Germany collapsed.

He would realize soon enough. 

That the Soviet Union had developed a nuclear bomb and was ready to use it in combat.

Molotov seemed to have a vague idea of what I was thinking. And Beria, who had just come in with the orders to give to the French Communist Resistance.

After I hung up the phone and sent out the interpreter, there were three people left in the room, excluding me.

The three who knew about the nuclear weapon, excluding Zhukov who was on the front line. Molotov, Beria, and Basilievsky.

Basilievsky, who had seen the tears I shed earlier, asked cautiously.

“Comrade Leader… What if we propose a prisoner exchange?”

“Do you think they would agree to such a trick?”

“…”

Of course they wouldn’t. Germany would not give up their top dog (or so they thought) for anything.

They were stalling for time to develop the nuclear weapon, through Heisenberg. They drove the Hitler Youth and the Volkssturm elders to the battlefield, and even made poison gas and biological weapons.

But the moment they found out that Heisenberg was gone, they would realize. That they needed much more time.

Then they would not want to give up Vasily even more. 

They would not want to give up their means of stalling for time. It was easy to see. Germany would never agree to negotiate. 

They would just stall for time while developing the nuclear weapon.

“And to kill him…”

“Do you know what is the most painful way to die for a human?”

“Yes?”

Basilievsky looked at me with a puzzled expression at my sudden question. Beria seemed to have a glint in his eye, but I ignored it.

“Burning. Burning.”

“Tha… that is… ah!”

“Have you decided? Comrade Leader?”

The clever Basilievsky seemed to have realized quickly. Beria asked me with a sparkle in his eye. I nodded, and Beria let out a small sigh.

“Prepare two. One for Berlin, and one for…”

“Huhuhuhu…”

“Leave one as a reserve. In case Germany does not surrender…”

I laughed softly, but there was one ‘person’ who seemed a bit sullen at the word reserve. Ah, was he a person…?

Anyway, it would be better to let him die quickly and painlessly, than to die painfully in the fire of the nuclear bomb. The Stalin inside me did not disagree.

No, he was rather urging me to drop more nuclear bombs. He understood that his son had to die, but he wanted blood for blood.

Would Berlin be enough? Berlin, Königsberg, Munich, Frankfurt… The names of many German cities flashed through my mind.

Would Hitler listen to Stalin’s wish? To fight to the end without surrendering?

“Let’s make it Christmas. Tell the Americans to stop bombing from a few days before.”

“Yes! Comrade Leader!”

“Tell the French Resistance to rise up three days before. That should be enough time to secure a meaningful area and get the German troops stationed in Paris to surrender. Remember. The ones who liberate Paris must be the Resistance organizations that obey our orders!”

“I will remember.”

This fall would be a very hot winter for the Germans. If they still did not surrender after tasting the heat, we would decorate the New Year’s Eve with more heat.

“Send a surrender offer to General Model… And we will prepare the armored units that can break through the enemy line and advance to Berlin, and beyond.”

“Yes, Comrade Leader.”

When Berlin burned and disappeared, the German army on the front line would be in chaos. Anyone would be, if their capital suddenly became ruins.

What choice would Model make? To fight to the end for the criminal regime that no longer existed? Or to choose for the soldiers? In real history, Model sent his brave soldiers home at the very last moment. He even wrote them discharge papers so they would not be punished as deserters.

And he left a suicide note, blaming himself for fighting for the criminal regime.

‘The ancient generals drank poison at times like this, right?’

That was how his subordinate officer, who wrote a biography of him, remembered Model’s last words. He chose to shoot himself, unable to bear the thought of living a life of surrender.

I felt sorry for him. For his skills, and for his humane actions during the war.

“I will write the surrender offer to General Model myself.”

“Ah… I understand.”

They left the room as I waved my hand. The guards too.

Now I was alone in this office. With the Stalin who seemed to be howling inside me.

He roared inside me like a wounded beast. 

To finish off those worse than dogs.