By the middle of the afternoon, the airborne troops linked up with the infantry forces that expanded their bridgeheads after crossing over the Rhine in their amphibious assault boats.

  The German soldiers fought toe and nails for every inch of ground, but by the end of the day on the 5th of May, it was obvious that they wouldn’t stop the Allied attack. Several battalion-sized units thus surrendered instead of being obliterated for no reason. Their war was over.

  CHAPTER 2

  Imperial Military air academy - Rikugun Shikan Gakkō

  Sayama, Saitama Prefecture, northwest of Tokyo, May 7th, 1947

  In 1935 land consisting mostly of mulberry farms and forests was selected and purchased for the future Rikugun Shikan Gakko – Imperial Military air Academy – in Saitama Prefecture. On December 20, 1937, Emperor Hirohito attended the first graduation ceremony for 426 students of the 50th class. It was the class that Takashi Onishi had been part of. Over the years, thousands of air cadets had been trained there.

  As he walked up to the Academy grounds, a flood of memories came back to him. The large gate was still there with the post sign that said Rikugun Shikan Gakko (Imperial Military Academy). And he could already see the large building harboring the Imperial Chrysanthemum in the center of the large parade ground where he’d been marched to exhaustion when he was in his early training days. There seemed to be a lot more activity than he expected for a nation that was without an air force.

  He had just recently arrived in Japan and dropped from a ship in Kure Harbor, and after just one day of being back (he’d planned to go and see his wife), he received a new set of orders. Instead of being demobilized, he was to report to the academy at once, which was odd since Imperial Japan had no more air force and wasn’t even in the fight.

  As he took the train ride the same day toward Saitama Prefecture, he was able to get up to speed with the world's news and learned of the Soviet attack in Manchuria and the developing war in China proper. On their packed old and rusty merchantmen, they had not been privy to any information since they had been sort of prisoners sent back to Japan after the country’s defeat.

  He figured that maybe the Americans wanted to put them back to work, as he heard happened with the Japanese Army units being dropped in Tsingtao by the U.S. Navy.

  As Takashi approached the center of the parade ground, a sharp-looking Japanese Army officer walked up to him from the headquarters building’s steps. The man bowed deeply. “Commander Onishi. It is an honor to meet you.” The ace pilot returned the gesture. “Thank you, lieutenant.” He followed his word with an equally respectful gesture. “Commander Genda has been expecting you.” “Commander Genda?” asked Takashi in total surprise. He’d heard the United States occupying forces had imprisoned the man. “Yes, sir. He’s awaiting you.” “Very well, bring me up to him.”

  They walked up the stairs of the HQ building and entered the grand marble-floored hall. Onishi noticed that the place was full of American officers and not many Japanese ones. It was hard for him to see, but it is what happens when you lose a war.

  They walked upstairs to a large office with a nice mahogany desk, where the famous Minoru Genda stood. The room was pretty stale, with the desk, a few chairs, and pictures on the wall representing the ace’s career.

  “Commander Takashi Onishi,” started Genda in a warm voice. “Welcome to the Academy. It is an honor to meet you.” “Sir,” answered Onishi, bowing deeply. “Come and sit with me; we’ve got a lot to talk about.” At that, the lieutenant retired and closed the office door behind him.

  The Army pilot sat down, facing the famous Navy pilot also now in his chair. The two men had never met during the war because one was fighting from land-based airfields and the other from carriers. Both had distinguished service records and many victories to confirm their ace status.

  “Pardon me to ask, admiral,” (Genda had an admiral’s stripes on his shoulders), “but I thought my war was over and that I was going to get demobilized soon.” Genda smiled broadly at the other man’s words. “Well, apparently, you, I, and the other surviving Imperial flyers have gotten a new lease on our military careers.” “But I thought the air force had been disbanded and that anyway, we just didn’t have the planes anymore,” answered Onishi in surprise.

  “We still have some, and we need to go fight the Soviets to save our brothers fighting for their lives in China. You know what,” said Minoru, sitting up quickly. “Let me show you what I need you to fly.”

  Peace overtures?

  Guderian-Manstein meet to discuss Silberberg, May 7th, 1947

  “The real question,” added Guderian, “is whether we should surrender now or wait to be in a better position.” Manstein was about to talk but was interrupted when a big enemy shell landed near their well-protected bunker, making the ground shake and some dust fall on his shoulder.

  The two generals were located in an old-World War One bunker repurposed and refurbished to face the Soviet onslaught. The fortress in Silberberg (The Silver Mountain) was built in 1764–1777 by order of Frederick II, the King of Prussia. It was designed by Prussian architect Ludwig Wilhelm Regeler, aided by several Prussian military engineers. Minor additional works took place in the following years, but no major alterations were made. The complex was composed of six forts, several bastions, and associated elements. At the start of World War One, it was re-militarised as the border between Imperial Germany and Tsarist Russia was on the Oder River at that time.

  In May 1947, it was part of Manstein’s bid to sort of build a defensive line to protect Eastern Germany. Breslau was just on the Oder River, and as such, the body of water represented a formidable obstacle for an invading army. Since the Oder ran from the Czech Mountains to the Baltic, it was logical for the Germans to try and stop the enemy there. After that, the war was simply over; Berlin was about seventy kilometers from the River.

  Manstein had proposed the place for the meeting as it was relatively secure, and since he needed to be at the frontline to manage the desperate situation, it was deemed safe enough for the Fuhrer to come for a visit. The Red Army was on the other side of the Oder and had not crossed yet. The Silberberg towered above Breslau and the river, so the Yvan’s shelled it. At the same time, the German forces fired on the Red Army from their high position. It was a classic artillery duel.

  Erich dusted off the falling dirt from his uniform and answered his new Fuhrer. “Heinz, the war is lost. However we go about it, we can only delay the inevitable. My forces are at the end of their tetter. It’s not that they are not powerful or capable of fighting the enemy. It’s just that they are getting overwhelmed.” He didn’t have to explain the details of the in-between-the-lines meaning of what he just said; The Allies were bearing down on Germany with a staggering eight million men. The Germans had maybe three to four at most, which was already a pretty strong force.

  “I know, Erich, I know,” said Guderian laconically. “For a moment, I hoped that the Skorzeny bomb would change things, but the Allies didn’t even comment on it and renewed their mutual offensives.” He paused to get up, turning around to get a coffee. Their room was deep within the protective structure and was the typical bland look. A few tables, some chairs, and equipment crates piled up in a corner.

  Guderian was dead tired, so he hoped that a little caffeine wouldn’t hurt. Worst-case scenario, he would just have to take a Pervitin Pill. “I have wondered if we could hold on until the enemy alliance breaks apart.” He put the hot coffee to his lips and sipped slowly. The liquid was hot. “The reports I have read talk of a major rift between the Allies. Several people in the Abwehr firmly believe that war is brewing between the USA and the USSR.”

  “You may be right, Mein Fuhrer,” answered Manstein, that also got up to get a cup of coffee. “But how long that will take is a mystery. And in between, German soldiers will continue to die. I am happy that I am just a General and that you are now the leader,” finished Erich, smiling at his friend. Guderian grunted warily at his words. “Well, you are right about that; politics and power are no fun.”

  He put down the cup on the table and put his hand on Manstein’s shoulder. “My friend, what should we do?” Manstein hesitated for a moment. “Well, you know, I am not certain that I would be comfortable laying down my weapons in front of any Russian soldiers, but I sure would do so facing an Americano-British soldier. I just don’t trust the Reds, and I don’t think they would leave us alive.”

  Guderian’s face lit up in understanding at the idea. “Are you saying that we should…” “Yes, Mein Fuhrer. At least we should consider it. Playing both sides against the middle could help widen the rift between the Allies. Imagine if we stop fighting the Westerners and continue attacking the Russians? What will the Americano-British say to justify themselves to the already distrustful Stalin? The man’s a paranoiac. He is bound to believe that we have some form of a secret agreement with him. In fact, we could actually claim it so….”

  Now, that would mean that the Reich would collapse in a matter of days, as the Western Powers would quickly overrun our rear areas, destroying any fighting chance we could have against the Russians.” “Yes, Mein Fuhrer. But by that time, if we are just a little lucky, we may see our good old friend Stalin declaring war on his friends….”

  Imperial Military air academy - Rikugun Shikan Gakkō

  The Kikka jet fighter, May 7th, 1947

  About half an hour after their meeting at the Academy HQ building, the two men were being driven down the airfield near the academy. Again, the sight of his long-ago training ground filled Onishi with memories. It was ten years ago, but it seemed like yesterday. “Commander, I gather that you have been trained here,” asked Genda, sitting beside him in the back of a black staff car. “Yes, Sir.” “You will see that not much has changed, apart from the destruction wrought by the Americans, of course.

  During their drive, Genda told Takashi about the fact that, at first, the United States had come down hard on everything military in Japan and that the whole Imperial military structure was about to be dropped in the drain. Onishi didn’t have any trouble believing him as he’d been unceremoniously shoved into a cargo ship as soon as it was possible by not-so-cooperative Allied officers. His plane, weapons, rank, and even some of his dignity had been confiscated the minute the Americans had landed at the airbase he was (after Japan’s surrender).

  But then the Communists attacked Manchuria. Genda had been released from the prison he'd been interned in the north of Tokyo. He’d been brought to General Douglas MacArthur in person, the man in charge of the Allied occupation of Japan.

  The situation was now reversed. The United States wanted Japan to defend itself against the Red Army. Genda had told him that it was more like they didn’t want to trigger a war with Stalin but at the same time wanted to stop his armies from conquering Manchuria and China. In short, they wanted the Japanese to fight their battle.

  Many people had a problem with that, and these men were still in prison or else discharged from the military. But there were those, like Genda, who could not envision a life without war, so he’d signed on to work with the Americans. And after all, their compatriots were dying in China, facing the unjust and unprovoked Russian attack. As he listened to the famous flyer’s story and explanation, Onishi decided he was of the same mind. His war was not over.

  And then he saw it. He’d been busy chit-chatting with Minoru about the developing conflict and had been paying only relative attention to the airfield. But when the staff car stopped in front of a peculiar-looking plane he’d never seen before, he could not help but be surprised. “Admiral. What the hell is that!”

  “That, commander, is the Nakajima J9N1 (Kikka) jet fighter,” answered Minoru, harboring a large smile, facing the speechless Onishi. The doors of the staff car opened as two orderlies let them get out of it. Takashi walked enthusiastically toward the jet plane. “I thought we would go and see some good old Zero fighters. But this…” he stopped, never finishing his sentence as he ran his hand on the plane’s wing. Genda decided it was time to give the startled Army pilot the plane’s specifications. “Range 205 km or 278 km as fighter configuration only. The maximum speed is 860 km per hour compared to the Zero’s 538 km per hour. Twin 30mm canon on the wings.” He walked just beside Takashi, crossing his arms, looking absently at the Kikka. “Pretty impressive, isn’t it, commander?” “Damn right, it's impressive, Sir.”

  “I started flying the thing in mid-June 1946, and it enabled my men and me to shoot down a lot of American bombers. It was a nice weapon, but we didn’t have enough of them, and the Americans had too many bombers and fighters. Only forty of the things left now.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Admiral. This is incredible. How did Japan come about to have jet fighters?” “Our old friends, the Germans, gave us the plans to make our own version of their ME-262 jet aircraft, with a delivery of a disassembled Messerschmidt fighter in a U-Boat. The planes had been all in parts, but the Imperial Engineers and scientists had rebuilt the whole thing from scratch. The Reich followed through with several big chromium shipments, again with submarines. The chromium is essential for jet engines.” Again, Onishi didn’t answer anything.

  “So, commander. I need a pilot to man my squadron that will soon be transferred to Tsingtao. Would you be interested? A man of your skill and reputation would certainly be welcome in my team.”

  “Just incredible. Can I get into the cockpit,” said Takashi absently. He was mesmerized by the plane. “Yes, you can,” answered Genda with a smile. “In fact, that very plane had been readied for you. We’ll need to give you the rundown on the controls, but I assume a man of your experience could be ready to fly it within an hour.”

  “I would be honored, Admiral.” Minoru turned to face Takashi and look at him directly in the eyes. “So, can I count on you to be part of my squadron, commander?”

  “I’m in, sir.”

  The Battle of the Ruhr Pocket, part 1

  May 11th, 1947

  Despite being across the Rhine by the 11th of May, getting over the river was only a means to an end. With Germany on the ropes and many Allied soldiers counting the days till they went home, the key now was to smash the Wehrmacht and bring the dreadful conflict to a close as soon as possible. While the Soviet threat still loomed large, most of the Allied soldiers and commanders didn’t believe that Stalin was crazy enough to face the strongest field army ever to walk a battlefield. Or so they thought.

  The Allied needed to close in on Berlin and other important German areas to win the war. General Gerard Von Rundstedt 1.8 million men were blocking the Americano-British path with the 5th, 14th, 15th, and 18th armies.

  The 5th and 14th were defending the Ruhr, one of the Reich's last remaining heavy industrial centers, home to the massive Krupp Steel Works at Essen. The rest of the German forces faced the bulk of Allied might just east of the Rhine and fought like the devil to stop the Allies from advancing any further. It was a desperate fight for the Reich.

  British General Bernard Montgomery, at the head of the British 1st, 2nd, and 5th armies, totaled 1.4 million men. General Juin, the victor of France and destroyer of the Pyrenes Defensive line, commanded the recently constituted French 1st army, with 500 000 men. Many of them only just re-integrated into the armed forces. General Crerar, the Canadian commander in chief, was also heading his country’s 1st and 2nd armies, including some 750 000 men. A plethora of other Allied commanders, Australians, New Zealanders, Polish volunteers, and Indian troops, with a combined 500 000 bayonets.

  The might of America was represented by the 8th, 9th, and 10th Armies, with a total of two million soldiers. The allied commander on the ground, American General George Patton, ordered all armies to break out on their own after the Rhine crossing and to head east as fast as possible. The order was doable since the German forces were trying to either retreat or extricate themselves while executing a fighting retreat. And besides, the Allied forces were highly mobile, with most divisions either armored or mechanized. By 1947, there weren’t many pure infantry divisions left in the western allied arsenal; most had been supplied with trucks, jeeps, half-tracks, tanks, or other military vehicles.

  If the American General wanted to go home, he had to take the Ruhr. Losing the area would be equivalent to disaster for the Reich. Without Essen, Dusseldorf, Dortmund, and countless other cities' heavy factories and production centers, the fight was pointless. For all the Germans' troubles at this point in the war, the two armies that General Rundstedt had tasked with the area's defense were still very strong. It had over 850 000 men to cause many headaches —and mass casualties—to any attacker foolish enough to launch a frontal assault. Seizing the Ruhr and striking a blow at German heavy industry had been part of the Allied operational plan since before they reset foot on the continent. But fighting through the Ruhr, with all its cities, factories, and millions of civilians, had real bloodbath potential and could easily turn into an urban battle on an unimaginable scale.

  For that very reason, both General Eisenhower and Patton planned to encircle German forces in the Ruhr, not blast through them frontally. Often maligned as a dull "broad front" strategist—keeping all his armies moving forward in lockstep—both men could spot a battlefield opening as any general in the war. And with the lucky break at Remagen, he saw a big one. The bridge had given the Americans and the other Allied units a way to cross a lot faster than would have been on rickety pontoon bridges, so it was possible to attempt an attack.

  In the north, the British Army under Montgomery had also advanced rapidly through Belgium and north-western Germany (Operation Plunder), so they were also poised to move rapidly.