Capítulo 90: 90
June 29, 1940
Rome, Italy
The news that the German army was advancing south toward Rome shocked the Italian people, not only because a large number of northeastern cities, including Venice and Verona, had fallen to the German army, and many northwestern cities, including Milan, Italy's economic center, had been reduced to ashes by air raids by the German Air Force. and drove me into fear.
Due to the war, prices soared and people had to rely on simple food such as bread or porridge for each meal, and the number of city dwellers migrating to the countryside to escape air raids and material shortages rapidly increased.
The Italian Air Force, which Balbo had trained over a period of over 10 years, was on the verge of destruction, the Army suffered defeat after defeat, and the Navy was the only one that did not suffer much damage, but since there was no battlefield to fight in, their existence was limited.
Italians' anger was directed at the incompetent government when they received notification of death of a family member or loved one who had been conscripted to the front and the news that a relative's house had been destroyed by bombing.
Families of disabled soldiers who lost body parts and barely survived and returned to their hometowns also began to raise their voices in anger.
"The Duce who started the war must resign!"
"War is boring! End the war now!"
"Mussolini, bring my dead son back to life!"
Italians, who had fallen for Mussolini's sweet whispers of building a new Roman Empire, were enthusiastic about him and gave him unlimited support, are no longer there.
The people poured out curses and criticism towards Mussolini, whom they had supported until two months ago, and the Italian Communist Party, which had been suppressed by the Italian government, also began to become active.
As all military forces headed to the northern front, security worsened and robberies and murders occurred frequently in broad daylight.
However, rather than investigating the case and catching criminals, the police were more focused on stopping the protests of people calling for anti-war.
The sight of the police being reduced to the dogs of the regime further inflamed the public's anger.
"Duce is the problem, but the king who has sat back and neglected to let the country turn into this state is also problematic!"
"The incompetent king, step down! "Italy is a country of the people, not your country!"
Eventually, when public opinion went beyond anti-war and extended to hatred and condemnation of the monarchy, King Vittorio Emanuele III made a decision.
"Call Duce. Right Now."
***
"What did you just say?"
Empty liquor bottles were rolling around carelessly on the floor of Mussolini's office, and the air polluted with the smell of cigarettes was floating in the air.
The aide who opened the door to the office was startled by the stench, but tried not to be impressed.
"Your Majesty is looking for me?"
"Yes, Your Excellency. "I think you should go right away."
Mussolini, who was lying on the sofa drunk on morphine, woke up like lightning when he heard that the king was looking for him.
He was enraged when he heard that his dismissal was passed at the Anti-Fascist Council held last night with 19 in favor and 7 against, and administered a larger than usual dose of morphine to control his anger.
I was still dazed from the effects of morphine.
Although Mussolini spent his time intoxicated with alcohol and drugs, he remembered that he should not appear in his current state when meeting the king.
He used perfume to get rid of the alcohol and drug smells remaining on his body, and rinsed his mouth with cold water. And he wore his own uniform brought to him by his secretary.
Except for his blurred eyes and slower gait than before due to the effects of morphine and alcohol, Mussolini returned to his usual self.
"Go quickly. "Your Majesty is waiting."
***
Mussolini firmly believed that King Vittorio Emanuele III had rejected his motion to dismiss him and had called him to give him new instructions.
However, Mussolini's confidence was soon shattered and scattered.
"Look, Duce."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Do you know what situation Italy is in now?"
"Oh, I know."
Mussolini intuitively sensed that something was wrong at the king's extremely cold tone.
"Now this country is in crisis. Both the military and the economy have been completely destroyed. The whole country hates you. My subjects, the soldiers who believed in and supported you, and even your son-in-law.
"Everyone is disappointed in you and has turned their backs on you."
"······."
Vittorio looked down on Mussolini with contempt and pity. Mussolini said nothing.
An awkward silence followed.
Just as Vittorio was about to open his mouth again, Mussolini sighed quietly. His voice as he answered trembled as thinly as an aspen.
"Have you made an important decision, Your Majesty?"
Vittorio turned his head from Mussolini, who muttered a question with a colorless face, and nodded slightly.
"You are already completely disqualified as a leader. I am very disappointed in you. So… why don't you quit now?"
Vittorio placed the guards on his left and right in preparation for Mussolini's loud protest. But judging by Mussolini's attitude and tone, it seemed like that would not happen.
"······I understand, Your Majesty."
Mussolini, who had an angular, square jaw that looked as if he could chew metal, was famous for his fierce appearance from a young age.
He spoke in a powerful tone, like waves crashing and lightning striking, and he left a deep impression on the Italian people.
He was now a shabby middle-aged man and lowered his head helplessly. Tears streamed down his thick cheeks.
"I wish your successor good luck, Your Majesty. "I'm really… really… sorry."
Mussolini was no longer the Duce of Italy.
***
June 30, 1940
Lienz, Ostmark, Germany
Vittorio Emanuele III, who dismissed Mussolini, appointed Field Marshal Pietro Badoglio as Mussolini's successor.
Mussolini, who was dismissed from his position as prime minister, was arrested by order of the king and placed under house arrest. Badoglio, who took office as prime minister, immediately called for a ceasefire.
When the ceasefire proposal from Italy arrived,
"It's hot, so be careful, ma'am."
"Thank you."
I was wearing an apron and holding a ladle.
When I scooped up Eintopf (a stew made with dried beans, vegetables, and meat) and served it to the meal, the old woman bowed her head, expressed her gratitude, and then walked away at a brisk pace.
I feel like my back is giving out after cooking soup for over an hour. Now, we only need to feed 20 more people, so let's be patient. The high point is just around the corner.
This is a temporary refuge for residents who lost their homes due to air raids by the Italian military. This is where refugees who lost their homes live in hundreds of 24-person tents used for military purposes.
Eintopfsonntag, an event where Eintopf was distributed at soup kitchens every Sunday as a relief measure for the poor and low-income people during the Nazi era, was an event so important in Nazi Germany that even Hitler often participated in the event.
Because it was wartime and I needed to set an example to the public, I decided to work at a refugee relief center in Lienz.
This is not unusual in 21st century Korea, where it is common for lawmakers who used their tax money to travel overseas to watch World Cup games to ladle out food at nursing homes or elementary schools whenever election season approaches, but let's not forget that. This is Germany in 1940.
In a world where politicians rarely volunteer, what would the public think if the President personally donned an apron and served soup?
In addition, they deliberately did not have reporters present at the site so that people would think that it was a real volunteer activity and not just a show. There are bound to be one or two reporters who come to the refuge to take pictures anyway.
If you go, they will take pictures for you, but is there really a need to take them with you?
When the last person finished eating, I was finally able to put down the ladle. As I stretched, my back, which had been as stiff as a fossil, screamed.
The older I get, the more my body becomes unstable. I desperately missed the green body of my 20s.
"It's hard on my body, but I'm proud to have done something good for the first time in a while."
"That is a valid statement, Mr. President."
"I didn't even know it was difficult because I was with His Excellency the President. ha ha ha."
Still, it felt a little awkward to do it alone, so I had my aides accompany me to the site. Göring left yesterday morning to encourage soldiers at the air base near Innsbruck, and Himmler went to attend a meeting with Gestapo officials in Stuttgart.
The only ones left behind were Goebbels and Hess, and they were on the verge of exhaustion from carrying 300 cans of soup and putting bread and sausages on plates with tongs for an hour and a half.
Looking at their expressions, it was clear that they both wanted to jump out, but because they were in front of me, they couldn't even make a sound.
"You both worked hard today. "Isn't it really hard to just sit at your desk and then start working out of nowhere?"
"This is nothing, Mr. President!"
"I'm still excited! "Please just leave any task to me!"
You still have the stamina to show off? Those guys who had death written all over their faces just a moment ago.
"Really~? Well then, great. "There are a lot of bags of flour left over there. Let's move them."
When I pointed to the bags of flour piled up in the corner, their faces instantly became thoughtful. This is a magic that makes the color disappear from the face in 0.1 seconds. This is a bit unusual.
"Why but? He said he still had stamina left. There are 'only' 60 bags, so let's only move 20 bags per person."
"······."
"······."
"I'm kidding. "Let's just go inside and have some coffee."
Anyway, isn't it a bit wrong for you to look at me with a straight face even though I am the President?
The two, whose complexion had finally returned, were savoring cappuccino when Ribbentrop returned with a proposal for peace negotiations from Italy. After receiving the general news from Ribbentrop, I received Italy's proposal and read it slowly.
"An immediate ceasefire on the condition of ceding Trentino-Alto Adige, hmm."
however,
Why is there no back?
"Could it be... is this all?"
"Yes, Mr. President. "As far as I can confirm, that's all the conditions they put forward."
"her! "What is this..."
Look at these guys. Maybe it's because you didn't get beaten up enough, but you still haven't come to your senses?
The compensation offered by Italy was ridiculous. Although it was an improvement over Mussolini's proposal to do something that had never been done before, this was also completely laughable from our perspective.
It is absurd that there is not a single penny in compensation, but are they asking for Libya, Albania, and East African colonies to be maintained as is? what the.
"I guess they have a hard time working their heads because they are Latino. A ceasefire on the condition of giving up Trentino-Alto Adige. "Even if we give away twice that much land, it won't be enough!"
Hess clicked his tongue and showed strong agreement with my words. Goebbels also spoke as if he could not lose.
"As General Richthofen said, we must turn Rome into a sea of fire. That way, they too will know the topic. "And the fact that war is not a game of house."
"Hmm."
As if the failure to attack Paris was still regrettable, Richthofen requested every day to attack Rome.
To Richthofen, who insisted on the necessity of airstrikes on Rome, saying that the Italians would beg to surrender if Rome was turned into a sea of fire, I disagreed, asking whether it was necessary to bombard Rome to stimulate anti-German sentiment among the Italians.
But if they keep coming out like this, things will inevitably change.
"It might be a good idea to have one last conversation before we hit you. Ribbentrop, I suggest you step forward and talk to them."
"Please just leave it to me."
***
"Does this make sense?"
Hitler was not the only one who laughed at Italy's peace terms.
Even to fellow Italians, King Vittorio Emanuele III's proposed peace terms were perplexing.
"A ceasefire on the condition of ceding Trentino-Alto Adige? "Without compensation or other compensation?"
"under! "Hitler will take it well!"
"Be careful what you say. "This is a condition that His Majesty himself stated."
"No matter how much your Majesty says, this is not true!"
Neither the National Fascist Party nor Badoglio could hide their bewilderment upon hearing the truce proposed by the king.
Instead of paying compensation, let's just give away a portion of the territory and conquer it. Would Hitler be satisfied with this level?
Absolutely not.
Badoglio was not confident that he knew Hitler that well, but he did not think that he would readily agree to an armistice, at least on these terms. He was sure of that one thing.
Badoglio tried his best to persuade the king. However, Vittorio's stubbornness was not something that even Badoglio could easily break.
"It breaks my heart just to give up the territory of the country I love, but to have to give up more than that. "Is that what a subject would say?"
Although Vittorio personally kicked out Mussolini, whom he had personally appointed as prime minister, from the position of prime minister, his true intention was that he did not want to give up the territory and status that Mussolini had acquired - Ethiopia and Albania.
"Your Majesty, with all due respect, it is very unlikely that Germany will accept the above conditions. Especially since there is no mention of compensation at all-"
"I don't want to hear it! Badoglio, you are the Prime Minister of Italy, not German! "If you are the Prime Minister of Italy, I expect you to act like the Prime Minister of Italy!"
In actual history, he ignored the military's recommendation to surrender as quickly as possible, maintained his throne and monarchy, maintained Italian territory and colonies before the war, recognized the Yugoslav territory annexed by Italy as Italian territory, and landed in the Balkan Peninsula and returned to Germany. Vittorio, who wasted time by making unreasonable demands to advance, abandoned the capital and the people and fled to the safe south when the German army came in, was repeating the same words here and again, tormenting Badoglio.
Badoglio was so frustrated that he was going crazy, but since he was in the king's presence, he had to do his best to hide his expression.
Even while he was listening to the king's sermon on the terms of surrender, soldiers would be dying on the front lines.
Is it just soldiers? Cities in the rear were never free from bombs dropped by the German army.
Milan and Bologna have already suffered extensive damage from German air raids, and two days ago, Genoa was hit by an air raid, killing more than 2,000 people.
The longer the war lasts, the more damage Italy will suffer. Why does His Majesty the King not know that?
Badoglio held back the sigh that was about to burst out and barely smiled.
"I understand, Your Majesty. "I will make sure to convey Your Majesty's wishes to them."
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