"Dang, Dang, Dang." The office door echoed with knocks. Major Gordon, rubbing his sore nose bridge to alleviate the fatigue of relentless work, raised his head with a hint of resignation. "Come in," he called out wearily. These past days had been grueling, with Gordon having approved the applications of about 500 former German Army officers. These individuals, carefully vetted and selected through rigorous comparisons, were to be integrated into the newly formed German Army. Despite being one of the smallest armies on the European continent, it was arguably the most professional, not just in Europe, but globally—a testament to Major Gordon's diligent efforts. For ten consecutive days, he had meticulously arranged the assignments and future paths for over forty soldiers daily.
"Major Gordon, Lieutenant Arcado Rudolph salutes you," a crisp voice announced from the direction of the door. To Gordon, however, the voice was just another in the daily parade of young, elite officers he encountered. Each one was a testament to the fighting prowess he was determined to preserve for Germany.
"I've reviewed your file, Lieutenant Arcado. Your departure from your previous post might seem unclear to you, but let me clarify," Gordon began, his voice firm yet fatigued. "I have at least 20,000 soldiers superior to you in rank and experience. However, you were chosen for a specific reason—you survived a gas attack unscathed. We urgently need to establish a gas response training unit, and you will lead it. Your task will be to train approximately two regiments, ensuring they can withstand enemy gas attacks as effectively as you did."
Stunned, Arcado had indeed suspected his survival from the gas attack played a part in his retention, but he hadn't anticipated being assigned to what he considered a logistical support role.
"Your office will be located at the headquarters of the 103rd Regiment, situated in the suburbs of Hamburg. The facilities there are commendable, previously used as a military command center. You will be overseeing the 103rd and the 105th regiments," Gordon continued, noting the perks of the position. "Leather sofas, oak desks, even a large globe."
"Sir, with all due respect, these luxuries bear no relevance to combat effectiveness," Arcado interjected, his disdain for such extravagance clear.
"These amenities are remnants of better times. After our defeat, much was looted. Temper your expectations accordingly," Gordon replied curtly, his focus returning to the stack of documents on his desk. "As you leave, please send in the next officer."
"Whom should I report to? Or who oversees my work?" Arcado inquired, standing to leave.
Gordon paused, the disarray of the army's recent reorganization evident. "The chain of command hasn't been clearly defined in your case. Start your duties; someone will take notice eventually."
The German Army was in disarray, much like a body on the brink of failure, struggling to function amidst chaos. After collecting a pistol, identification documents, and clearance papers from Gordon's assistant, Arcado set out to locate his new office.
The so-called poison gas prevention unit Arcado was to command was, in reality, just him. Although a second lieutenant by rank, the current strain on resources meant he had no subordinates, not even an assistant. After a lengthy search that morning, he finally located the 103rd Regiment's headquarters, misleadingly labeled as the "11th Corps of the Imperial Army."
The barracks were in turmoil. The guard battalion that should have been stationed there had dwindled due to reassignments and delayed reports, leaving only a handful of guards on duty. After his documents were verified, one of the guards escorted Arcado to an office marked "Eleventh Army Secretariat."
Inside, the office was in disarray: a sofa overturned, the globe missing, and the large oak desk buried under a heap of documents, some possibly confidential. A brazier filled with ashes suggested the destruction of important papers. What remained appeared trivial, likely not worth concealing.
As Arcado surveyed his new environment, he noticed a portrait of the German emperor hanging above the desk. He dusted the desk with his finger, noting the week's worth of neglect, then hung his coat and hat. Picking up a damaged white glove from the floor, he dusted off a chair and sat down, beginning to sift through the documents—telegrams about the empire's surrender, military disbandment orders, public health reports, and copies of the capitulation.
With a snort of disdain, Arcado tossed the papers back onto the desk. The army, over 20,000 strong, had been neutralized not by warfare, but by bureaucratic decree—a "total destruction" by paperwork. His thoughts drifted to historical humiliations and treaties that had once crippled nations. He pondered the rise of the Nazi party, which had exploited the German people's desire for resurgence and dignity.
As he gazed out the window at the serene sky, thoughts of his acquaintance, Adolf Hitler, crossed his mind. Could this former corporal indeed catalyze the historical upheaval he was known for in history? Lost in these thoughts, Arcado drifted into a nap, dreaming of lecturing university students about World War II.
Meanwhile, the rest of Germany was far from tranquil. At the Krupp factory, British and French officials supervised the dismantling of machinery, with workers tearfully carting away the tools that had once provided their livelihood. Reporters documented this somber deconstruction, capturing the desolation as precision parts were discarded like refuse, and artillery barrels were heaped like scrap metal.
The German Army had been halved, unemployment soared by millions, and the national economy staggered under the oppressive terms of the Versailles Treaty. Public confidence in the government plummeted, leading to riots and armed protests. Statues of German leaders were toppled, and some citizens even clashed with military forces.
In this tumultuous backdrop, a fledgling political movement gained momentum—the National Socialist Workers Party. It drew support with its vibrant nationalism and aggressive rhetoric, appealing to a populace disillusioned with their current state. Among its ranks was a figure whose influence was growing among regional capitalists and the general populace—Adolf Hitler.