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Iron and Flame: an alternate history play-through of Hearts of Iron 3: Germany

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Vikarion:
This will be a play-through of Hearts of Iron 3, playing as Germany. Hearts of Iron 3 is a very detailed strategy game which places the player in control of a country during World War 2. This is not limited to the military, but also to intelligence operations, diplomacy, and economic activity. It's a lot of fun, and I suggest trying it if you enjoy "strategy games" that are less about tactics and more about logistics and actual strategic decisions.

A few notes: first, I probably don't have to say it, but it does need to be said: I do not, personally, think that the Nazis, Hitler, or German aims in World War 2 were good, right, or worthy of success, and I'm very glad that we live in a world in which they failed. I'm also not a fan, to say the least, of Marxism, in any of its forms, which managed to kill and torment far more people than even Nazism.

That said, if one is writing (or playing) alternate history in World War 2, one is largely limited to one of two options: either talking about how the "good guys" (largely Britain, France, and the United States) could have won even harder, or talking about how the bad guys (Hitler and Stalin) could have done better. The former tends to be boring. So yes, this is a story where the assholes win.

The character I'm inserting (Viktor Forst), is, indeed, an asshole too. However, he's an asshole more of the Prussian model, to wit, somewhat less of a thug. But make no mistake, he is an asshole. He's an anti-semite, if not an exterminationist one, a German ultra-nationalist and Nazi, and more than a little cold, ruthless, and bloodthirsty. Unfortunately for the world, he's also smart, quick, and very well read.

I'm placing him in the SS largely because it's the most plausible spot for such a takeover (spoilers) to take place. The SA was a gang of thugs, and largely defunct after the Night of the Long Knives, while the military was largely quiescent after same.

As much as is possible, I'm keeping to history and historical characters in the lead up to war, and even during it, although as with all chaotic situations, the timeline will rapidly diverge over time from the Original Timeline (OT). As such, I'm also keeping Hitler around. I've read a few biographies of the dictator, and I'll be trying to keep as true to his personality as possible, however, given coming events in the story, I think I'm justified in portraying a slightly less self-confident tyrant than actually existed.

All Nazi symbols and other paraphernalia in screenshots of the game are for artistic verisimilitude and no other reason. Also, I have not altered the game's country profiles or cheated, aside from minor modifications to represent the strength of the neutrality movement in the United States at the time.

Lastly, I've studied the Second World War quite extensively, and probably have greater knowledge of it than anyone with less than a Masters (or perhaps a Ph.D) in the subject. This sounds arrogant, but I don't mean it to be. I mean that I have read hundreds of books, listened to many lectures, and spent countless hours otherwise educating myself on this subject, largely for my own enjoyment. So I hope readers will forgive me if I occasionally lapse into an out-of-story dissertation on some subject.

-Vikarion

Vikarion:
Prologue

1932
"Come in, Viktor, come in!" Reinhard Heydrich motioned, his long coat flapping in the winter breeze. It was cold outside, but Viktor Forst moved with a trace of nervousness as he followed Heydrich into the building. This was, after all, an interview.

"Ah," Heydrich said, leading him into a room off the hallway. "Here we are. Herr Himmler, this is my friend, Viktor Forst".

Heydrich was ahead of him, and it was a moment before Viktor caught up. When he did, he entered to see a rather plain looking man wearing pince-nex spectacles and a slightly pinched expression, sitting at a desk, a small lamp illuminating some papers.

"Good evening", Himmler replied, then, without preamble, turned to Viktor. "And you are Forst. Reinhardt has spoken well of you." He removed his glasses, wiped them with a handkerchief, then continued. "He says that you recently aided him with those recent...slanders".

Viktor nodded, unsure of how to respond. He had, indeed, managed the removal of some papers and the replacement of them with others. He didn't know if the rumors of there being a Jew somewhere back in Heydrich's family tree were true, but he did know that no one would now find out.

"And you were recently in America", Himmler went on, with a tone that suggested that the visit perhaps counterbalanced whatever service Viktor might have provided with the papers. "Tell me, what did you think"?

Viktor paused before speaking. He had considered this question. Neither Himmler nor Hitler were rumored to consider America a country worth respecting. He thought, therefore, that remarking on the industry, or the industriousness of the people, was probably not the wisest choice available to him at this exact moment.

"Herr Himmler, it seemed to me to be a very...chaotic place. Very messy. And I almost was hit by an automobile".

"Yes," Heydrich grinned. "And then where would we be now? You must bring him in, Herr Himmler. He will be a great asset."

Himmler stared at Forst for another long moment, and Viktor had the uncomfortable sense of being a fly that was under scrutiny by a frog. Then he nodded. "Well, you have been of service, and Reinhardt speaks well of you. I will make a spot for you in our internal intelligence department. Come in tomorrow."

And with that, the audience was at a close, and Viktor and Heydrich walked back out to their automobile. As they exited the building, Heydrich clouted Viktor on the back, and grinned again. "You and me, Viktor, we'll go far. You'll see!"

- - -

December, 1935

1.
Viktor stood at a window, looking out from his office in the Reich Main Security Office on the Niederkirchnerstraße, in Berlin. He was almost surprised, still, to be here. But Heydrich had been right, not that he'd very much enjoyed the man's company over the last three years. He'd started his efforts with Heydrich's intelligence office, accumulating blackmail material on enemies of the party. However, while Heydrich engaged in creating a police-like security force, especially after the rise of the party to power, Viktor had gone in a different direction: creating blackmail rather than discovering it, "convincing" dissenters to change their minds, and occasionally making someone simply disappear. And when the SA had been disposed of, the SS had stepped into its role of security force with coordinated grace.

He turned away from the window and back to his desk. Himmler and Heydrich were out, now, meeting with the Fuhrer over some architectural thing or another with that young architect...who was it? Speer, yes. He and the Fuhrer had such grand plans. Well, that was fine, but Viktor worried that they were outstripping the realm of the possible too quickly, and the plans of the Fuhrer seemed not to be being given enough attention by the various departments of the Reich. In fact, as far as Viktor could see, the various leaders of departments, from Goering to the SS's own Himmler, seemed more interested in empire building than in making the Reich strong. Worst of all, Hitler didn't seem to mind, rather, he even encouraged the rivalries.

And if it kept up, Viktor considered that the citizens of Germany had better learn how to speak English, or, more probably, Russian. Something needed to be done, and...but, no. If he ever had the chance, he would do something, but he didn't have it now. He sighed and returned to his work, looking at next slip of paper on his desk. Hmm. Apparently Heydrich had just missed snagging - again! - a communist agitator named Josef Romer. Hmm. Interesting. Opposed the communists with the Freikorps, and then joined them. Heydrich almost got him in 1934, just missed him, looked like. So... a slippery bastard...

2.
Josef "Beppo" Romer gasped deeply, shaking in the cold, damp, evening air. It was starting to rain again, and he had nowhere to stay. A fine situation for a forty-three-year-old man. But he'd spotted the police automobiles just in time to duck out of sight last evening, and he'd been on the run ever since.

He was out of options. He didn't wish to endanger his friends and contacts, but he had no choice. Of course, there was always...and he felt the bulge of the home-made grenade in his bag. But no. How would he ever get close? No, he needed to get to one of his friends in the underground communist cells he'd helped set up. Then they could figure out how to get him undercover again, or out of the country.

It was at that moment that fate decided to smile on Romer, at least in regards to his ability to return torment upon the heads of his tormentors. As he began to cross the street, two cars pulled up and stopped for a moment, side by side. Romer stared in surprise. He knew the further car - it was a Mercedes-Benz 770. And, yes, yes, that was the so-called Fuhrer, looking at a map with someone in the back seat.

He was already fumbling with his bag, looking for all the world like a vagrant, when his peripheral vision tracked to the nearer vehicle. He almost stopped arming the grenade. That, that was Heydrich, and Himmler! If there were a gracious god to grant such opportunities...

He pulled the armed grenade - more of an explosive charge, really, his brain noted, spinning out irrelevancies at a moment like this - out of the bag, and with conflict-born reflexes not entirely lost in his advancing years, slung it underhand towards the two cars. If he were lucky, he'd get it right in between them and...

Had it been an actual grenade, it might have worked perfectly, and history would have gone quite differently. But the members of the Marxist underground in the Third Reich were not explosives experts, and the improvised bomb exploded prematurely while barely under the first car, even as Heydrich, who had spotted Romer, was opening his automobile door.

The blaster turned the metal underside of the first car into a spray of fragments, killing everyone in it as hot metal shards tore upwards through their bodies. Other fragments peppered the Mercedes-Benz 770 of the Fuhrer, and Romer, closer to the blast, never saw the flying shard that nearly decapitated him.

Hitler, the leader of the Third Reich, stumbled out of his vehicle, barely conscious. Blood ran down his head, his arms, his right leg. Distantly, he heard the crackle of flames as petrol from the ruptured tank of the other car consumed its hollowed-out carcass. As he sank to the ground, and his vision began to grey out, he heard Speer screaming for help.

To be continued...

Vikarion:
Prologue

3. The news came over the telephone, a few hurried words from an Untersturmführer, a very junior officer whose panicked tone told Viktor of the truth of the matter. The Fuhrer was gravely wounded. Heydrich and Himmler were dead. Speer, shielded by Hitler's body, had only been scratched.

And that made him...the head of the SS. Oh, probably not for long, not once the other Nazis started looking around for someone to blame. And since Heydrich and Himmler were dead, well...they would not care that Heydrich had been the one in charge of internal security. And then would come the rivalries, no longer with Hitler as referee, and everything they'd worked so hard for would fall apart. Then the Bolsheviks and the capitalists of France and England would descend upon the corpse of the still-born Third Reich to parcel out the spoils once again.

Or...perhaps not. Perhaps this was an opportunity, a golden opportunity. If he were quick, there was every chance he could turn this to his advantage. Hadn't he just been thinking of how things needed to change? And what did he have to lose?

So...first...he picked up his phone dialed. "Yes, Dietrich, this is Forst. First, place all forces on full alert. There's been an assassination attempt upon the Fuhrer. Second, arrest all of the senior leaders. We aren't sure who is involved yet. Third, seize the publishers of the newspapers and occupy the radio stations. Bring the publishers to SS HQ. I will be putting out a statement for both within the hour. Fourth, detain - but politely - all of our generals you can manage." He paused, waiting for an affirmative, and got it. "Good. Hurry."

He put the phone down. Now, to see to the Fuhrer. He owed his loyalty to Hitler, but he didn't have the fanatical sense of faith in the man that so many of his comrades seemed to enjoy. Therefore, he needed to ensure the Fuhrer's recovery, but not too soon. And as well, to restrict access to the man. To make this work, he needed to act in the Fuhrer's name, and with his authority, while ensuring that said authority could not undermine him. Well, Viktor had a small cadre who owed him much, as virtually every senior Nazi did, and he would use them. He placed two more calls, one to find what hospital the Fuhrer had been brought to, and the second to assemble his men.

- - -

4.
The hospital smelled of antiseptic and other, less pleasant effluvia, but Viktor was barely conscious of that. He'd arrived to find several SS milling about, and quickly replaced them with his carefully selected men, who established a multi-layered guarding force. Then, he had gone to seek out the surgeon, who was now eyeing him with a combination of fear and irritated competence.

"How is he?" Viktor asked, knowing that the subject of his inquiry was obvious.

"He is badly wounded, but probably not in danger of dying," the man responded. "Several shrapnel wounds, which I should be in there treating. A broken arm, broken rib or two if I guess correctly, and lacerations. Badly broken leg, which he exacerbated by walking on. It will be a long recovery, and he will need a cane, perhaps for life, perhaps only for a year or two."

Viktor nodded. "Good. I know you will do your best. And doctor, understand that no one but hospital staff  - and of those, only your most trustworthy - and myself are to see him. Is that clear?"

The doctor nodded, and Viktor turned on his heel. That was done. Now, to the papers and radio. If he established his legitimacy early, it would be all the more difficult to challenge him. Even for Hitler, he thought with an internal smile.

5.
The newspaper men were there, at SS HQ, when he arrived. Some were still in their night clothes, which, he judged, put them in the appropriate state of mind: cowed. Also there were the radio managers, which, however, were somewhat more presentable. Good. He walked to stand in front of them, faced them, and nodded.

"Good evening. As some of you may know, the Fuhrer has been attacked, and gravely wounded. Heinrich Himmler and Reinhard Heydrich are dead. I am the head of the SS, and currently head of the Reich government. I have placed -"

There was an exclamation from the back of the group, and a balding man with a bulldog-like face pushed his way to the front. He glared at Viktor. "There is only one head of the Reich," he spat out, "and that is not you. it is..."

Viktor recognized him. It was Julius Streicher, publisher of Der Sturmer. If it had been anyone else, he would have simply had him immediately restrained and removed, but this man was one of Hitler's favorites, and published an anti-Semitic paper dear to the hearts of many Nazis, although, not to Viktor, and not to a few other senior leaders. Diplomacy, then.

"Herr Streicher," Viktor cut him off, "The Fuhrer is in surgery, and is unavailable. Besides myself, who should I put in charge? Goebbels? Goering?"

Streicher paused, and Viktor could see the wheels turning in the man's head. Goebbels lusted after complete control of the country's papers, which would, of course, include Der Sturmer. Goering hated Der Sturmer, and would shut it down if given the chance.

"Well," the man said, with the air of conceding a point, "I suppose you must. But I must see the Fuhrer at the first opportunity."

"Of course", Viktor lied, wishing he could shoot the man for his impertinence then and there. The man would not make it back to his disgusting little paper's office alive. A car accident. Yes. That would do nicely. And a fire at the publisher. Arson, perhaps, by...hmm, disgruntled SA members? Yes. That, too, would do nicely. And no one would suspect him, as Streicher had, of course, just agreed to support him. Excellent.

"Now", he continued, "As the Reich Security Office is unsure of the nature of the attack" - another lie, they'd already identified the culprit - "we have taken the other ministers of the Reich into custody". That last was not a lie. Dietrich had informed him just a few minutes before that all were in SS hands, from Goering to Goebbels. "As we ascertain their innocence...and please, understand, we believe that most are innocent...we will assemble a new cabinet until such time as the Fuhrer is able to return to his duties. Let us all pray that that will be soon".

He paused, and then smiled. "Now, let's not be too upset. Adolf Hitler is alive, and we will keep him that way. Stability will be maintained. Have faith in the Party. Have faith in the Reich. Have faith in your Fuhrer. As for me, I do not propose to take his place. For now, at least, I will function as Fuhrer, but you will refer to me as Unterfuhrer, for that is what I am. In an hour, I will have a statement for your stations and papers, to be read and printed as soon as you can. I must ask you as a fellow German to work with me, for I wish nothing more than for the will of the German people and their Fuhrer to be carried out. Until the statement is ready, we will see you liberally supplied with coffee, tea, and any pastries we can rustle up at this hour. Also, I have informed my staff to open my personal collection of schnapps to you, much as it pains me to do so."

There was a general chuckle. He continued. "Gentlemen, this is a trying hour. I am only third in command of the SS, but I am in command of State security. I wish only the health of the Reich. I will tell you more as I am able. Please, work with me." He smiled again, gave a small bow, and left for his office. There was much more to be done, but working late this evening had rewarded him beyond all expectation.

Havohej:
Haven't taken time to read it yet, just wanted to say "Iron and Flame" is a hell of a title.  Looking forward to posting later after I read all the things.

Vikarion:

--- Quote from: Havohej on 01 Jan 2016, 00:32 ---Haven't taken time to read it yet, just wanted to say "Iron and Flame" is a hell of a title.  Looking forward to posting later after I read all the things.

--- End quote ---
Thanks!  :D

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