1960, France State, Paris
The latest color television faithfully played the news in Paul Touvier's house, and Monique Berthet wept at every word. Chantal Touvier, 12, and Pierre Touvier, 10, sat in front of the sofa and stared at the rows and rows of French SS soldiers walking into the Congress with loaded rifles.
"This is a new chapter in the history of Frankland and the world. This is a new day for our children, a day filled with hope." On the television, the French National Leader of the SS, Joseph Darnand, rose from his seat and slowly paced his speech. "Due to the armed rebellion in the overseas provinces of Algeria and the inability of Head of State Laval to perform his duties due to health reasons, the French Salvation Society will be reorganized into the French National Socialist Party, with me as the leader of the party and head of state."
At the entrance of the Congress hall, the black-uniformed National Socialist Fasces Corps made a neat and precise formation, the Fascism was deeply rooted in Frankland, and they've always adhered to discipline.
——
The advantage of living in an organized one-party totalitarian state is that there will not be any garbage and drugs on the Champs Elysées, and there will be no rallies or demonstrations. In most cases, the situation in front of Paul Touvier now is a minority. In front of the black Mercedes car is a huge white paper poster, on it is written the sentence: DOWN WITH THE HITLERS!
"How many people?"
"Twenty thousand to thirty thousand, the number of Champs Elysées." Paul Touvier's heart was bitter. His hand tightened on René Bousquet's microphone. "There were probably 30,000 to 50,000 protesters in Paris, mostly students or Beatles."
"Well, with 50,000 people, half of them must be unarmed, or else the military police have more casualties."
"Road traffic has been blocked. They have all gathered on the Avenue des Champs-Elysees and near the Arc de Triomphe. They're completely blocking traffic in the middle of the avenue." Paul Touvier felt the need to smoke a cigarette and reached into his pocket.
"These are insurgents and terrorists! Don't use water cannons, use live ammunition!" René Bousquet as soon as he got behind the microphone, his voice became firm and resolute. "The German garrison and our SS have begun the attack!"
There was a burst of machine gun fire in front of the Arc de Triomphe. More and more white flags were flying over the heads of the protesters, and then the sound of chanting suddenly stopped. "I need a written permission order."
"Idiot, all they wanted was permission to shoot! Does the police not have the right to use lethal force on an unlawful demonstration of more than 30,000 people causing damage to state property?"
Without written permission, who knows if you would shift the responsibility to me? Paul thought. "Mr. Minister, I mean to follow the procedure for requesting a permission order."
"Stupid rule! You to draft an official letter and let me see it tomorrow morning!" René Bousquet bared his canines.
——
It does not matter whether this protest movement was instigated by the Resistance Movement or spontaneously triggered by the SS coup. The Resistance Movement did not succeed even if its members reached 500,000 people like the Soviet guerrillas.
Even though these protesters had rifles and Molotov cocktails, several German HS.30 infantry fighting vehicles of the French SS Charlemagne Division rushed directly into the crowd, the machine gun spraying like hail, the 7.62mm shells mercilessly penetrated their skin, breaking their organs and tearing the flesh. and the protesters, unable to face the machine gunfire and high-explosive shells of the tank, scattered.
Infantry fighting vehicles are useless on the mud roads in Eastern Europe, especially in the heart of the Soviet Union, but on French roads, an HS.820 20mm cannon with 2,000 rounds of ammunition is enough to turn a gathering of hippies and idiots into a killing field. A HS.806 fired from an automatic cannon turned the head of a man into a smashed tomato. He collapsed in front of a row of bronze horses, his neck crooked like a twisted rag. Another man, who tried to protect himself, was crushed under the wheels, leaving only his body, which had lost half of its chest and head, as if it had been blasted through an iron wall.
Another infantry fighting vehicle directly relied on the 8-cylinder gasoline engine produced by Rolls-Royce and undoubtedly crushed several Beatles students who could not dodge. Some of the infantry fighting vehicles used their speed to plunge directly into the densely packed people in the crowd, with a crushing sound the bodies were broken into meat. At that moment, they were no different from a professional heavy truck, crushing and dismembering them as it pleased.
The pale sunlight illuminating the dead bodies was stained with bright blood and warm intestines. These so-called brave and free French people have become broken limbs, dismembered bodies and entrails lying on the floor, and their once tender youth has been trampled into a corpse.
——
Helga Goebbels held the microphone tightly in her hand as she thought about what had happened, And took a deep breath, trying to calm her trembling voice. "Uncle Speer?"
"Don't look for him."
"Have they already..." Helga Goebbels hangs her words for a few moments and takes a breath, And throat feeling like it's strangled by an invisible giant's arm. "What happened?"
"Goebbels committed suicide with his wife, I'm afraid."
"Is he, is he really?" Helga Goebbels whimpered like a baby, And quickly wiped the tears that spilled. "If they ever found out that he was, you know, his..."
"Relax, it's not all because of this." Albert Speer, the Secretary-General of the Reich Minister of Armament and War Production, closed his eyes, And he muttered like a curse: "All of this is in the past. Our interests are in the future."
"Our family cannot bear more sacrifices. It must be worth it, no, it must have been worth it! Right?"
"Not entirely, we will win this, that's the important part. If we survive the fire, we can achieve what you have long sought: a free Reich."
"Albert, no one wants to die, and no one wants to feel powerless."
"Oh." The old man's voice was silent for a while. "Don't worry about the French SS. Himmler's SS in Berlin only controlled the Reichstag and its own headquarters. The Wehrmacht will suppress this rebellion."
"Well."
The beautiful daughter of Nazi Party leader Helga Goebbels once hoped and aspired for the Nazi Party's political victory. However, this idealistic idealism, however, led her father's and her own Nazi family, down to the infighting within the Nazi Party for decades. Even now, Helga Goebbels hoped and still desires a national defeat for Germany, and to re-build a normal and rational life.
Helga sat on the bed after the microphone went silent. In a daze, she stared blankly out the window of the cabin, And watching the sky of the Earth turn, which was infinitely dull and shallow, the bottom is so far away and never comes to light.