The news spread swiftly across the globe, as if borne on wings. The Franco Legion had captured Madrid, decisively tipping the scales of the Spanish Civil War in their favor. Franco declared himself the leader of the National Army during a speech in Madrid, where he was also sworn in as the Spanish leader. Merely hours after this event, the Italian leader Mussolini announced to the press that Italy would establish ambassadorial diplomatic relations with Spain under Franco's leadership. Soon after, the German Head of State, Akado Rudolf, declared that Germany recognized Franco's leadership and had established a strong national friendship with his regime.
The British, observing the changing winds, began to engage more actively with the Franco-led Spain, frequently sending personnel in hopes of fostering relations with the new authorities. However, given the UK's previous reluctance to support Franco, this attempt at diplomacy was unlikely to yield substantial progress. In contrast, the Soviet Union reacted strongly to these developments. The defeat of the Communist International and the Republican Army in Spain was a significant blow to the global communist movement. Stalin, deeply concerned by the fall of Madrid, called an emergency meeting, although it was clear that nothing could reverse Franco's occupation of Madrid and the apparent conclusion of the Spanish Civil War.
Inside the Kremlin's conference hall in Moscow, a grim assembly of military officials and strategists convened to discuss the aftermath and implications of the Soviet intervention in Spain. The atmosphere was tense and heavy, with many generals keeping their heads down, avoiding eye contact, perhaps due to the fear instilled by recent purges. The meeting was presided over by Clemente Evremovich Voroshilov, a stout, fifty-year-old veteran known for his staunch support of Stalin during the purges, which had elevated him to his current influential position.
Voroshilov initiated the discussion, giving a nod to his trusted generals to express their views, hoping to stir some dialogue in a room otherwise dominated by silence. "This intervention has proven costly and ineffective, Comrade Stalin!" exclaimed a Red Army general, breaking the uneasy quiet. He reported the loss of approximately 300 aircraft provided to the Spanish Republican Army, which had been largely destroyed by the Nationalist Air Force.
"The losses are too substantial! We cannot justify further support to the Spanish Republicans at such a cost. It would compromise our own military needs," another high-ranking general supported, voicing a concern that was evidently shared by many in the room.
Stalin, visibly perturbed, tapped his fingers on the table and questioned the efficacy of Soviet weaponry, comparing it unfavorably to the arms supplied to the Nationalists by Italy and Germany. An air force commander reluctantly confirmed that the Nationalist forces possessed a superior aircraft, capable of exceeding speeds of 500 kilometers per hour and operating at altitudes above the clouds, far outmatching the Soviet i-16 fighters.
This admission sparked a heated debate among the technical staff. One defensive technician argued that the i-16 was among the best in the world, suggesting that any shortcomings were due to pilot error or tactical misuses rather than technical deficiencies. He revealed plans to introduce improvements, such as a closed cockpit, to enhance performance.
Despite the blame-shifting, it was clear that the Soviet military hardware was falling short in the Spanish skies. Voroshilov tried to shift the focus to the positive aspects, highlighting the commendable performance of the T-26 tanks and the impressive achievements of Soviet snipers, who had reportedly eliminated thousands of enemy combatants, including several hundred Germans.
These discussions, while momentarily boosting morale, could not mask the dire situation. The industrial capacity of the Soviet Union was strained, and the ongoing support for Spain was becoming unsustainable. With the Italian navy blocking Valencia, arms shipments were increasingly risky and ineffective. Voroshilov leaned in close to Stalin and suggested a strategic withdrawal from Spain, proposing instead to redirect support to other communist efforts, potentially in China.
Stalin, after a moment of contemplation, conceded to the reality of the situation. He ordered the withdrawal of Soviet military support from Spain, signaling a significant shift in Soviet foreign policy. This decision was met with a collective sigh of relief from the assembly, as it would spare further Soviet losses in a conflict that had proven costly and fruitless.
As the focus shifted away from Spain, the repercussions of the failed intervention became apparent. Soviet resources that had been earmarked for Spain were now redirected or squandered, with corruption and mismanagement leading to further losses. In the ensuing months, Franco's forces, bolstered by German and Italian support, consolidated control over Spain, culminating in the capture of Valencia and marking the definitive end of the civil war. Spain then joined the Axis powers, aligning with Germany and Italy in a strategic alliance that reshaped the political landscape of Europe.
The Soviet Union, chastened by its experiences in Spain, faced the daunting task of reassessing its international strategies amidst growing threats and internal challenges, marking a pivotal moment in the lead-up to the broader conflicts that would soon engulf the world.
Behind a camouflaged underground fortification on the German Siegfried Line, near a barracks encircled with barbed wire, several sentry soldiers idly smoked cigarettes. They watched the endless road disappearing into the distance, seemingly bored with their routine. Suddenly, a faint engine sound broke the monotony, accompanied by sparse bird calls, briefly infusing the dark little forest with a hint of civilization. One of the soldiers quickly dropped his cigarette butt, stamped it out with his foot, and raised his chin to signal his companions of an approaching vehicle. The group promptly shouldered their rifles as the vehicle drew nearer.
However, it was not a German military vehicle that approached, but rather a French Army car, carrying a dozen soldiers with white armbands, all armed with long spears. The vehicle was marked with German words painted on it: "The Committee" and "Coalition Arms Control." It was clear at first glance that this was the Coalition Arms Control Committee. The German soldiers, sensing trouble, stood firm in the middle of the road and gestured for the car to stop.
The car honked loudly, "Drop! Drop!" but showed no intention of slowing down. Realizing this, the German soldiers quickly stepped aside, narrowly avoiding being hit as the car sped past, brushing the corners of their uniforms and leaving them in cold sweat. "Damn! Chase!" one soldier exclaimed, urging his comrades to quick action.
They knew they lacked direct communication equipment; the real checkpoint, manned by the Defense Forces with a roadblock, was another two or three hundred meters back. This checkpoint was the one that actually intercepted vehicles, whereas their duty was merely patrolling and maintaining perimeter security. They sprinted towards the checkpoint and, before they had covered 200 meters, they saw the car stopped in the middle of the road, blocked by a roadblock and a line of German Wehrmacht soldiers.
Approaching with heavy breaths, they pointed at the stern-faced French soldiers, cursing, "Assholes! They trespassed onto military grounds! We signaled them to stop, and they just drove through..."
Before they could finish, they sensed the tense atmosphere and prudently fell silent. They walked past the French soldiers to join their own ranks. Some soldiers aimed their rifles at the French, while others loaded their weapons with a sense of urgency.
"We are the Coalition Arms Control Committee! We have the authority to inspect your armaments in Germany! If you don't want to face a military court, let us proceed!" declared the French officer in charge, his voice firm as he stared down a German officer who stood unyieldingly with a pistol in hand.
"The area ahead is a military defense zone of our army. No unauthorized entry is allowed!" the German officer retorted sharply. "Unless there is an order from the commander-in-chief of the group army, Admiral Ronderstadt, please turn back immediately!"
Germany's Western Front was manned by approximately 300,000 troops, spread across 19 divisions under the command of Admiral Ronderstadt and Admiral William Lister of the group and b group armies respectively. These units, primarily infantry divisions with limited self-propelled artillery, were considered by French and British intelligence to consist of about 200,000 troops, mostly light infantry with no heavy artillery, posing little threat to the French Maginot Line. However, they were far from vulnerable, being well-trained and equipped with ample anti-tank weaponry and 150mm caliber infantry artillery.
"We are the arms control committee of the victorious nations! Your peace treaty grants us the authority to inspect any area! Do you dare obstruct us?" the French adjutant argued heatedly, pointing to his military cap as a symbol of their authority. "This is our pass! Otherwise, we might have to teach you a lesson with our cannons again!"
The German officer, unfazed, responded, "I'm sorry, but I recognize no such committee! I am loyal only to the head of state and serve the German people! If you persist with this unreasonable disturbance, we are prepared to defend ourselves!"
This standoff at the checkpoint was critical. The Germans knew that allowing the French inspectors through would expose their carefully hidden fortifications and possibly reveal more than the allowed military strength as per the treaty stipulations. This could lead to significant political and military repercussions.
In an attempt to defuse the situation, the German officer proposed, "Let me contact my superiors. If they grant permission, I will let you through." The French officer, though visibly annoyed, nodded in agreement, giving the German officer a chance to make the call.
Meanwhile, in Berlin, the head of state, Akado, was delivering a rousing speech, determined to lift Germany from the shadows of its World War I defeat and herald a new era of power and prosperity. "Today, as your head of state, I stand before you to bring hope! I pray to God that our nation will flourish under my leadership," Akado proclaimed, his voice resonant over the radio, reaching every corner of the nation.
Back at the Siegfried Line, the situation escalated quickly after the call. The German officer, phone in hand, approached the French officer with a smirk. "Dear Sir, the head of state has just announced the dissolution of the Joint Arms Control Committee. You are ordered to leave German soil immediately."
The French officials, caught off guard by this bold move, were left with no choice but to retreat, their mission thwarted by a resolute and defiant German military. As they withdrew, the German soldiers stood tall, their pride in their leader and their country evident in their victorious smiles. This confrontation at the Siegfried Line was more than just a military standoff; it was a statement of Germany's renewed strength and independence under Akado's leadership.