Tanaka wondered what the next few weeks had in store for him and his mates. The war certainly took an ominous turn as it progressed. Long gone were the days when he was raping, stealing, and killing in Rangoon, Singapore, and Southern China. He mentally shrugged at the whole thing. What could he do about it? Swim back to Japan and go back to nothing? He had no family there, and his only trade was war. He decided that he would settle with the hope of having fun again. Maybe Tsingtao would provide it. After all, it was a large city, and it was full of Chinese civilians.

  Ankara Castle

  The Desert Fox in prison, April 25th, 1947

  Even though the exact date of its initial construction is unknown, some people believe the Hittites (an ancient empire that ruled over north-central Anatolia in 1600 BC) had a military garrison in Ankara and first built the Ankara Castle.

  The castle took up the entirety of the peak, which overlooked the city and its red-tiled roofs. There was also an exterior wall outfitted with 20 towers, located on the periphery of the old city and built as a protective layer. The fort took up around 43 square kilometers (16.7 square miles), with a wall that rose to 14-16 meters (50-52.5 feet). The castle’s highest point, called Akkale or Alitaşı, stood tall in the southeastern corner. The strongpoint was successively occupied by the Persians, Romans, Greek, Seljuks, Mongols, the Ottomans, and their follow-up entity, the Turkish state.

  Its sheer size and closed-in aspect were one of the best spots where to put the surrendered German Middle Eastern Army. The Wehrmacht and its auxiliaries represented over 300 000 men, so Ankara castle would house many of them. While most of the men were still being marched toward Ankara in great columns of prisoners (they had been fighting on the frontlines, after all), many of the officers and commanders of the proud Wehrmacht had already been brought to the place.

  That included its famous commander in chief, Erwin Rommel. The General had fought a brilliant campaign in North Africa, even destroying an American army under General Bradley and almost reconquering Tripoli for the Axis. But reality had caught up with the Desert Fox, with powerful Allied reinforcements and fleets that landed behind his lines, while at the same time, British General Auchinleck broke out into the Iraqi plains. He’d retreated in good order inside Turkish lines and pretty decent defensive works. Still, in the end, it was all for nothing since Turkish Army elements overthrew the pro-German government in Ankara, and the country surrendered to the Allies.

  Being already cut off from the Reich by the Red Army that occupied the Balkans meant the end for Rommel’s forces in the theater, as they couldn’t get supplies and would have had to fight their former Allies, the Turks themselves. In the end, surrender was the better option. After all, the war was lost anyway, so the desert Fox figured it was better to save his men’s lives than waste them away for nothing.

  And so he’d given his surrender fifteen days ago in Adana. The next morning, several British officers landed at the city’s airfield. They took custody of Rommel and his officers, giving orders for the men to gather and leave their weapons at specific locations.

  The Allied ground troops arrived via the Gaziantep Gap and occupied the Adana plain a week later. The German forces were ordered northward toward Ankara and their large prison.

  The Allies had housed Rommel in the Akkale, the highest vantage point in the fortress, where he had a commanding view of the Turkish capital. The place sported a balcony, and the defeated General spent most of his time there, entertaining guests, mostly Allied officers.

  On that day of April, he was receiving a visit from the Middle Eastern Commander in chief, General Claude Auchinleck. The two men had already exchanged the formalities of small talks, and then they moved on to the balcony to sit down for a chat. “Thank you for taking good care of my men, General,” started Rommel. “General, the rules of war compounds us to that honor,” responded Auchinleck. “Well, yes, but thanks to you, we don’t have to bear the brunt of the Turkish hospitality,” added Rommel with a thin smile. The Turks were indeed well known for their mistreatment of POWs, so it was good for the Germans that the British oversaw their captivity.

  “When do you think we can go back to Germany?” “Not before the end of the war. But I am told it should end soon,” said the British General in a monotone voice. “Yes, I heard. I was fortunate enough to get my hands on a newspaper that was only a few weeks old,” Rommel said ironically. “My comrades will not hold for long under this pressure. But you do know, General, that the Red Army will not stop at finishing the Germans?” “I've read the reports and more up-to-date newspapers,” said Auchinleck dismissively. He didn’t believe that Stalin was crazy enough to continue fighting after so much suffering and death. “And,” asked the Desert Fox. “And nothing. The war is over, General.” Let’s hope your right,” finished Rommel, turning his back on Auchinleck to look down at the city. He was not certain that the war was over. Not certain at all.

  Rejoining German Lines

  Walder makes it back to the Reich April 25th, 1947

  The IS-2 tank rumbled over the debris of battle as normally as possible. Slazenger said they’d finally made it across Soviet lead elements and were now somewhere between the Russian and German lines. He figured they were almost out of Poland.

  So far, they’d been able to avoid being found out by the Yvan’s. They stole the tank a week ago and rolled eastward, always trying to avoid Russian troop concentrations. Then the mighty Lodz tank battle happened, enabling them to slip through during the night in a field littered with tank hulks, as the German forces had retreated westward and the Russian ones licked their wounds.

  In the dead of night, the Russian tank was advancing slowly, with Walder out of the hatch, watching the ground. They advanced with their lights out to try not to attract attention. But they were advancing in a field where a battle had been fought not a day in the past. Bodies littered the ground, and several large chunks of metal were strewn about, while larger, burned-out hulks from both sides rested. The German-controlled IS-2 had thus to navigate the field slowly and carefully. Walder also knew that the Wehrmacht certainly had installed minefields across the land, so there was also that watch for.

  The tank they were in was one hell of a build. Its armored hull (except for the frontal part of the machines) was welded from rolled armored plates 90, 60, 30, and 20 mm thick. It was peculiar how different the Russians built their armored vehicles compared to the Germans. The Reich produced a polished finish and nice welds, superb suspension, and optic systems, enabling its tankers to be very deadly on the battlefield. In contrast, the Red Army built rough, as the welds and other aspects of the IS-2 attested. The tank looked okay from a distance, but not from up close and against a practiced eye. From Walder’s perspective, it was obvious that the Russians had chosen quantity over quality, and the Germans the opposite. It was not really hard to figure out which one had the better strategy. While the Panzerwaffe killed a lot more Russian armor, the Communists always had spares so that they could swamp their enemies with them, regardless of the casualties.

  The suspension system was horrible compared to the smooth and stable ones installed in the Tigers. Even young enthusiastic Stromer had commented that he did not understand how the Russian soldiers could even consider shooting while driving. Even for a gifted tanker like Stromer, the machine shook so much that it was nearly impossible to aim. And then optics were not at all on par with the excellent Carl Zeiss systems installed on the Tiger class of tanks. Again, it was a wonder the Yvan’s could shoot anything over 2000 meters.

  Walder continued to concentrate just ahead of his tank in order to make sure they wouldn’t hit something, fall into a ditch, or something similar. He tried not to listen to the horrible sound the bodies his tank stepped over made when the machine’s tracks crushed them. It was very unsettling, but it could not be helped. A great battle had been fought in this non-descript Polish field, and there were too many corpses to consider avoiding them. And besides, the IS-2 could easily roll over them.

  They eventually reached the end of the large field, and to the three German would-be escapees, it was a miracle they had not been fired upon. Walder figured that no one but them was active in the area, or else some Red Army soldiers/tanks had seen them but decided that nothing was amiss.

  “Slazenger, turn the tank left; let's drive along the forest edge to find a trail,” he yelled down the hatch. The IS-2 had reached the black patch of forested ground at the end of the field, so now Walder tried to find a path, trail, or road through it. After five minutes, he found what he was looking for and entered it.

  The Russian tanks rumbled along the tightly packed trail, grazed by the dozens upon dozens of tree branches that skimmed on its side as it was too big to avoid the vegetation enveloping the path. It made for an eerie view, and Walder decided that he would get into the tank and close the hatch since it was a dangerous spot, and he couldn’t see a thing. The IS-2 was making so much noise with its engine and now its tree crashing that it was bound to attract the attention of a sharp German unit if one was near. And besides, the trail was just perfect for an anti-tank gun ambush.

  Looking thru the observation slit, he tensed as he thought he saw the flicker of a light. Apparently, Slazenger had also seen it and started to talk but was interrupted by pandemonium. In what seemed a half-second flash, a powerful red tracer shell was fired at the Russian IS-2 from the trail’s darkness. The round raced toward the tank and hit it on the frontal plate, sheering it off in a catastrophic explosion. Everyone in the tank was catapulted backward as the machine skidded left and drifted slowly into a ditch. The impact’s powerfulness knocked out the three men. But luckily for them, their ammunition magazine wasn’t hit, nor did any internal fire start.

  Several tough-looking Panzer grenadier soldiers approached the tank a few minutes later and entered it. What they found startled them. A German officer and a couple of soldiers were inside and alive. They picked them up and brought them back to the rear for interrogation. After all, they might even be Russians dressed as Germans, and they were unconscious, so that they couldn’t be asked.

  Extract Of Heinz Guderian 1952 Book, Panzer Leader

  The Impossible decision, May 7th, 1947

  The decision I was about to make at the beginning of May 1947 had far-ranging consequences for the Reich and the Germans as a whole. Having been in power for mere weeks by then, I rapidly concluded that I was different from the first two Fuhrer.

  The sheer weight of the pressure imposed on the German leader made me discover a new appreciation of Hitler and even Goering. A man had to be really strong to take a load of bad news, decisions, and a never-ending list of problems. Before taking the seat of power, I could not understand the many stupid decisions both men made and their weaknesses or bad temper.

  Now I appreciated their coolness under strain, as I was truly struggling to keep a straight face in the endless meetings that just followed one after the other. I was used to having no rest days, as life for a General at the frontline had no respite, and I thought I knew what paperwork was. No wonder Hermann Goering took drugs. This made me appreciate Hitler’s personality even more, as the man was relentless. I wonder what kind of war the Third Reich would have had with the 1st Fuhrer at the lead. Probably not better, and certainly worse. Goering had his flaws, but at least he mostly kept out of military decisions, while Adolf was overall commander-in-chief of all the armed forces.

  The Fuhrer’s responsibilities went beyond the military, so it broadened my perception in scope, and I truly got to appreciate the amount of suffering, the number of deaths, and the size of the destruction.

  By May 1947, Wasserfall missiles were starting to be in short supply, and the same could be said of our air force. The Luftwaffe was still very strong, but it couldn’t completely shield the Reich as it did before. Its numbers of experienced pilots had dwindled, making for a higher-than-replaceable loss ratio amongst the newer flyers. The fact that Germany was now within a pretty tight confine allowed the Allies to attack the Luftwaffe airfields. Consequently, there were no more safe havens where the air force could launch its fighters with relative ease. Therefore, several of our major airbases were attacked every day and several times at that.

  On the ground, the Wehrmacht was powerful but needed to fight the Allies in the open, as there weren’t any more lines of defenses to anchor to. Patton’s forces pierced the Siegfried Line, opening Western Germany to rampaging Allied soldiers, further degrading the Fatherland’s production capabilities (most of the factories were in the west).

  For a moment, I hoped that Skorzeny’s atomic bomb would make the Allies pause and accept a negotiation based on something else than unconditional surrender. Still, no words had come from either Moscow, London, or Washington D.C. While it gave the Reich some sort of protection from enemies now aware that they could also be destroyed by nuclear fire, it had not changed the balance of power nor checked Allied resolve.

  The equation was rather simple. Germany would lose the war, and I did not consider myself fanatical enough to want to fight to the very end. Not in exchange for countless German lives and destruction in the process.

  My armored Hanomag jolted upward as the road was very uneven with all the Allied bombings. The impact yanked me out of my dark thoughts. My procession (several Hanomags, Tiger Is, and a half-battalion of well-armed troops) was on the road toward Von Manstein’s HQ to discuss what we should now do. The General and I had developed a friendship, and we corresponded during the whole length of the war (with letters and telegrams), so I very much wanted Erich’s input on the decision I was about to make.

  Looking out the armored truck’s small window, I remember seeing dark plumes of smoke towering high in the sky on the eastern horizon, a sure sign that the enemy was not that far away and that heavy fighting was involved. In the distance, I perceived a German fighter squadron zip past, going east as well. “We are almost there, Mein Fuhrer,” I remember the driver saying. Several of the personal guards stirred at hearing the words, gathering their gear. I had greatly diminished the Fuhrer’s personal guard, feeling that having a few thousand men every time I moved was a little too much for my tastes. But I kept several of the men I liked and brought some that I could count on from my army days.

  Crossing the Rhine

  Allied Armies spill over into the heart of Germany May 1st, 1947

  By the end of April 1947, supreme commander General Dwight D. Eisenhower had a huge force under his command. Five million men in three army groups: 21st in the north, consisting of British, Canadian, and US forces under Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery; the all-American 12th in the center under General George Patton; and the 6th in the south (Italy and Slovenia), consisting of U.S., British and French forces under General Jacob L. Devers. In essence, all of the Allied might was concentrated on one last push against the Third Reich. The killing stroke was about to be given.

  The very last natural obstacle facing the Allies was the Rhine. It was a serious roadblock. River-crossing operations were highly complex by nature, requiring careful planning, tight cooperation between infantry, engineers, and artillery, and time to prepare.

  It was the same as preparing a sea-borne amphibious operation. General Rundstedt knew this as well, and from the moment the Siegfried Line defenses were pierced, he retired his troops as fast as possible on the river’s east bank. Flowing from Switzerland to the North Sea, the river was sometimes as wide as a kilometer. Well defended, the place could have been as difficult to cross as the Dnieper defenses had been for the Russians from 1944 to 1946. But the Wehrmacht didn’t have time to organize a new line of defense when its West Wall crumbled down. It nonetheless represented a formidable challenge for Americano-British logistical capabilities.

  The US Third Army carried out four river assaults starting May 1st. The 5th Infantry Division undertook the first attempt, crossing the Rhine at Oppenheim, south of Mainz. Under Patton’s impetus. He spent most of the day directly at the river’s edge, directing and inspiring the men as they when in the amphibious crafts. They crossed without the usual artillery preparation, a maneuver that caught German troops by surprise. Within 48 hours, four US divisions had crossed the Rhine at Oppenheim and positioned themselves to advance into Germany. The U.S. engineer corps also rapidly built (in one day) a big pontoon bridge to get the heavy equipment and tanks to cross the Rhine. By the 5th of May, General Rundstedt had more than a serious problem on his hands; The enemy was across and in force.

  The German 33rd Armored Corps mounted several furious counter-attacks from the 4th to the 7th of May, but to no avail. Allied artillery, air, and anti-tank weapons repulsed them. It made for a grand battle and thousands of casualties, but in the end, the Wehrmacht retired northeast toward the Ruhr.

  Third Army troops soon also successfully assaulted the Rhine at three other locations: Boppard, St. Goar, and south of the city of Mainz. Two divisions of the US Seventh Army crossed the Rhine near the city of Worms on May 6th, 1945. All of these operations were vital in facilitating the push on the Ruhr industrial region and the conquest of Germany.

  On the northern part of the Rhine, the planned river crossing near Wesel was the largest amphibious and airborne operation mounted since D-Day. On late May 5th, Operation Plunder was launched.

  The genie was truly out of the bottle for the Reich. Nothing could be done to impede the Allies from crossing the Rhine.

  The battle for the Bridge

  Remagen, Rhine, May 5th-7th, 1947

  The Rhine was no ordinary river. About 766 miles in length, with an average width of about 1,300 feet, the generally north-flowing waterway also was exceptionally swift and deep. Since the days of the Roman Empire, it has served as central Germany’s traditional defense against invasion from the west since it ran its border’s whole length. These facts remained in the spring of 1947.