Chapter 241: Christmas Gifts
Jörg did not give Leon the chance to speak.
Diplomatic equality was built on the premise of equal military strength.
"You call me a tyrant. You call me a man-eating demon."
Jörg's voice was calm, almost gentle.
"Then I will become Nero. I will burn Paris into ruins and build a new Golden Palace, a new Paris, upon its corpse."
Leon hurriedly explained, "Those are all false reports. Once the war ends, we will investigate them thoroughly and deal with them. Your Excellency von Roman, please listen to my request, the most sincere request of the French people."
"We will abandon all military resistance. We will use the territory east of Paris as the dividing line and hand it over for military supervision. France's Army will not exceed one hundred thousand men."
Jörg gave him a cold, disdainful glance.
"Only that?"
His voice carried open disappointment.
"This gift is truly terrible."
He placed the cup down.
"Listen carefully to the gift I want, Mr. Leon."
"We want all eastern regions of France and every coastal region. France will retain only partial administrative authority."
"Militarily, France is not allowed to possess an Army. The police force must be placed under special jurisdiction. France's borders and national defense will be garrisoned by the German Army."
"Every year, France must pay the German Army the full military expenses required for that garrison, calculated according to the value of the Mark."
"The Navy and Air Force will become subordinate units of the Wehrmacht. All French aircraft must be transferred immediately, and scuttling any ship is strictly prohibited."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"From this moment onward, every ship in France is German property."
"Furthermore, France will bear all costs of this war. The gold reserves of the Bank of France will be used to pay for them."
"And at the same time, immediately after signing the peace treaty, France must first declare war on Italy."
Leon wanted to shake his head.
But he did not dare.
The price was too great.
If he agreed to these terms, he would inevitably become a sinner cursed by all of France. But if he refused, the image of Paris reduced to ruins flickered before his eyes.
Under that fear, Leon's hands trembled uncontrollably.
His face turned pale, as if he had just crawled out of an ice cave.
"Your Excellency von Roman… I hope you will show mercy. These terms are too costly. Some of the gold has already been transferred to the United Kingdom. We…"
In the face of German interests, Jörg was as cold as a machine.
He waved his hand.
"I am sorry, but mercy does not belong to nations."
His gaze was indifferent.
"And it does not belong to Germany."
"Agree, or else…"
Jörg leaned back.
"We shall meet again on the battlefield."
Late night.
Paris.
Pétain looked at the conditions with deep worry.
After ten full minutes of silence, he finally asked, "What are Germany's demands regarding the colonies?"
At this point, Leon's complexion finally improved somewhat.
"Jörg von Roman said that as long as the French speaking North African colonies cease fire and accept the orders of the surrender government, he will not demand them."
"However, we must recognize the illegitimacy of the British colonies. The colonies can still remain under our control, but their markets must be fully opened to Germany. The garrison will be jointly stationed by France and Germany."
"As for the Middle East, Germany requires complete control over Lebanon. In return, after Italy is defeated, half of Ethiopia will be separated and granted to France."
Being able to retain the colonies was undoubtedly a rare piece of good news.
Pétain let out a long breath and nodded.
"There is one more matter, Marshal Pétain."
Leon hesitated before continuing.
"On the British side, De Gaulle, who fled to North Africa, somehow connected with Churchill. This afternoon, he issued a declaration of resistance to the end and stated that he would not recognize any surrender government."
Leon had originally thought that Pétain would become extremely upset upon hearing this.
Unexpectedly, the old general showed a rare smile.
"I understand."
Pétain's voice was calm.
"Go and issue the armistice announcement."
There was a reason for Pétain's happiness.
If France surrendered, Churchill would undoubtedly do everything possible to align himself with the United States. At that time, Germany would likely face two powerful opponents, the United Kingdom and the United States.
If Germany won this great war, then France's quick withdrawal would avoid even greater losses. It would prove that Jörg von Roman was favored by destiny, the Napoleon of this world.
But if Germany was defeated, it would not matter.
With De Gaulle still resisting, France would reclaim its lost territories and continue existing in the world as a victorious nation.
And by that time, he, an old man already near the end of his life, would at most bear the infamy of a traitor and end his remaining years beneath the guillotine.
Betting on both sides.
Everything would depend on which direction the wild wind of fate chose to blow.
Pétain snuffed out his cigarette.
Dong, dong.
The pendulum swung, and the clock gave a long chime as midnight arrived.
The day before Christmas.
The doors and windows along the streets of Paris were tightly shut.
Pétain's voice echoed through the streets and alleys.
Barricades were dismantled. Posters equating Jörg with a demon were gathered and burned.
New posters began to be printed, proclaiming Jörg as the representative of peace and the warmongers as sinners.
Imprisoned members of the French Advancement Party were released. They raised their hands in unison and roared, "[France, advance!]"
Praise for Jörg as the hope of Europe spread everywhere.
Everything changed so quickly that many French people were at a loss.
So was Heli Karl, the commander of the First Armored Division deployed along the Paris defense line.
He was not an excellent commander.
But he was a Frenchman with dignity.
Knowing what he would face after the war, he could not accept all of this calmly.
"Sir, German units are marching toward the front. Are we to… surrender our weapons?"
Karl thought for a long time before making a bold decision.
"How many people want to resist to the end?"
The number blurted out by the adjutant was far lower than Karl had expected.
"Only the First Tank Battalion refuses to surrender. They have sent us a telegram stating that they will resist to the end. The other units have made no statement."
"Let them attack."
Karl's voice was quiet.
"I am a soldier, so I understand soldiers. If I force them to accept surrender, they will regret it for the rest of their lives."
"And they will hate me."
For the first time in his military career, Karl disobeyed an order.
"Then… what about you, sir?"
"You will be responsible for handing over the weapons and accepting surrender."
Karl's expression was calm.
"I… do not want to live in a country controlled by Germany."
"There are no surrendering generals on the battlefield."
As the adjutant left the room, a gunshot rang out through the silent camp.
It sounded especially jarring.
On the other side.
At the station of the First Tank Battalion.
As one of the first armored units trained by De Gaulle, the French soldiers here were among the few who were still willing to fight for their country until the final moment.
The commander of the First Battalion shouted, "Are we going to surrender?"
Before he could answer himself, the soldiers cried out, "No!"
"Good!"
The battalion commander raised his voice.
"Then advance!"
"Fight for France until the last moment!"
The tanks started once more.
The fully armed soldiers were like brave warriors who knew there were sharp rocks at the bottom of the valley, yet still chose to leap down.
Foolish.
Yet enough to inspire an ineffable admiration.
But the outcome had already been decided.
The German Air Force quickly detected this rogue unit.
After contacting the French First Armored Division and confirming that they were rebels refusing to surrender, the German Air Force claimed its final service merit of the campaign.
Bombs destroyed all the tanks and armored vehicles.
In that boundless sea of fire, the flag representing the French Third Republic was burned to ashes.
.....
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