One Thousand One Hundred and Forty-Six Meet

Germany, the residence of the Fuhrer in Berlin, Akado is hugging his son Caesar, happily playing games with a few nannies, he happily pounces on his son, and then lets the little guy kick him vigorously with his feet chest. 【】The little guy laughed very happily, the sound of hehehe passed through the corridor, and floated out of the window, causing the birds outside the window to chirp non-stop.

Little Caesar is still at the stage of not quite understanding things. He is curiously looking at everything around him, blinking a pair of beautiful big eyes. Akado liked Little Caesar's soft brown hair very much, and every time he hugged him, he couldn't help stroking Caesar's hair with his wide palm.

"The little guy is very healthy, and his legs are really strong." After playing around for a while, Akado had to stop, because he was already out of breath from the torture of his son due to lack of exercise. Anna and Mercedes who were watching from the side couldn't stop laughing, complaining that Akado should exercise more.

"When my army takes Moscow, I will run every morning!" Akado hugged his son, his face was full of comfort. Although his forehead was sweating, he still smiled sweeter than winning the war: " I am already very happy, at least I can hold my son here and play for a while, I heard that Brauchitsch’s grandson is almost a month old, and he hasn’t had time to go home and have a look.”

His words made Anna and Mercedes laugh again, because the victory from the front line, the internal economic development, the situation in Germany as a whole is getting better and better, and the time everyone spends talking, laughing and playing has correspondingly increased . Compared with the taciturn and even hysterical Akado when he just started the war, there is a world of difference.

"Marshal Gallipoli called yesterday from Italy, saying that he was arranging for people from the Pope Hall to come and celebrate mass for our children. Now everyone feels that it is better to curry favor with the Führer than with the Führer's children." Mercedes did not agree at all. Unlike a woman who gave birth to a child, her body maintenance can be described as perfect, and there is no such thing as the thick waist of a Caucasian woman that has transformed into a bucket.

What many people are thinking about now is not the gradually clear ending of Germany's war on the Eastern Front, but what kind of system the Holy Third Reich will implement in the future, and what kind of leadership inheritance it will have—to put it bluntly What everyone is more concerned about is whether Germany will produce a new emperor or use the "democratic system" of the head of state and prime minister.

The victory at your fingertips made everyone eager to move, at least when everyone didn't have to worry about losing the victory if they lost the head of state, then the attitude of worshiping the head of state as a god changed a little. Of course, in Germany now, there is definitely no market for voices questioning Akado, but there are really many people who think they can succeed Akado.

If the head of state does not proclaim himself emperor, then this huge empire, which stretches from the Atlantic Ocean in the west to the Volga River in the east and beyond, is definitely a great stage worth fighting for to display your ambitions. Although the idea of ​​replacing it is unrealistic, it is definitely tempting to work hard to become the successor.

"I personally still think it's a good idea to help our little Caesar win the title of honorary European emperor." Akado teased his son while saying to Mercedes: "We will have many more Sons, a royal status and a huge estate are the best wealth we leave to them. It is not a good thing to put them at the pinnacle of power."

"But Akado, if you and I are here, we can ensure that our offspring will not be bullied or used as lambs to be slaughtered, but what if we are not here?" Mercedes looked at his The husband, looking at Anna beside him, spoke out what he was worried about.

Akado smiled, then handed the child to Anna, who had been staring at Caesar's chubby cheeks, stood up and said: "We can't guarantee much, even if we hold all the power, we The descendants of the future are unable to keep these things, and they will be replaced by others. We have given up power, which is already a safer choice than standing at the top."

He stretched out his palm, stroking Mercedes' shoulder, and comforted: "Honey, what we can do for the children is already done well enough, their affairs must be solved by themselves, isn't it Is it? We provide them with a choice, which is already a happiness that many people have never had."

Mercedes nodded, pursed her lips and did not continue speaking. She watched the sun slant into the bright window, leaving a bright spot on the bed. In the bright spot, the beautiful Anna was using her slender fingers to Caressing Little Caesar's pink cheeks, Little Caesar was smiling happily. For Mercedes, this moment was called happiness.

...

The incandescent lamp above the head swayed slightly with the tremor of the earth. In the dark basement of the Moscow Kremlin, the flickering lights because of the unstable voltage made the people guarding the room a little flustered. You can't see the sun outside here, so you can only tell the time through the clocks on the wall. There is no hope here, so you can only judge the remaining time by the expressions on people's faces.

Stalin sat up from his bed, looked at the photo of Lenin facing him, and suddenly felt ashamed in his heart. He dared not look at that face again, dare not think of the man who had given him the country.

"Come on! Come on! Come on! Take this photo off! Take it off quickly!" He covered his face and pressed his eyes with his palms, only to feel a little better. Once he stood in a bright and luxuriously decorated conference hall, and the people sitting below applauded him desperately. He responded like a god, and his words were as authoritative and effective as the law.

He fantasizes about a sunny place, a conference hall with a huge five-pointed star drawn on the roof and countless lights inlaid around it. But that familiar place can no longer be found, and what remains there are ruins, and the luxurious decoration was smashed into rubble by 280mm shells fired by the Germans.

The attendant heard his shout and hurried in from outside the house. Even Stalin, who was so lonely and defeated, was also a leader, and a superior existence that the attendant could not match. Not daring to delay, he stood at the door, waiting for Stalin to issue clearer orders.

"Are you deaf? Take that photo down! Hurry up!" Stalin covered his eyes, he suddenly realized that his beard hadn't been trimmed for a long time, and the messy beard pierced his palm like a knife .

The attendant hurriedly called the guard at the door, and the two quickly took down the huge photo of Lenin in the basement. Holding the photos, they walked away quickly, fearing that Stalin, who was covering his face, would suddenly raise his head and give some weird orders. Recently, the work of serving Stalin has become more and more difficult. He often asks for some strange things. For example, he once proposed to eat sea fish, but now Moscow is besieged on all sides. Where can I find sea fish to improve the life of this leader?

As soon as the attendants left, a general in the uniform of the Soviet Marshal, surrounded by his entourage and other officials, walked along the corridor to the outside of Stalin's bedroom. Now in the Moscow encirclement, the only Soviet general who can wear the uniform of the marshal is Zhukov. This general who has followed Stalin since his fortune has been standing at the door with a gloomy face, waiting for his subordinates to inform the leader comrades.

After getting permission, the marshal finally met his loyal leader Stalin once again: "Comrade Stalin... the battle in the south of Moscow was chaotic and uncoordinated. I don't know who gave the order to counterattack, but these orders let us The troops are inexplicable."

"Your troops were retreating when I gave the order to attack, as it was in Ukraine; and your troops were attacking when I ordered the retreat, as was the case in Kursk... I'm fed up with this arrogance Violation, Zhukov...my order has never been carried out." Stalin stood up from his bed, then walked in front of Zhukov, looking at him with eyes of prey.

"Comrade Stalin! We have already lost this war!" Zhukov did not back down, staring at Stalin with a pair of eyes: "What we insist on now is the dignity of a nation! The honor of a country! The responsibility of a soldier! If at this time Do you still have any illusions about winning this war, then I have to ask you to look outside—our country is in ruins, and no matter what the outcome is, we will never win the war!"

"..." Stalin looked at Zhukov, his hands clenched into fists, his unkempt beard trembling, finally he averted his eyes, and then said to Zhukov in a lonely voice: "So, Moscow Has the southern part been lost? Where else? How many positions has Vatutin lost?"

"My headquarters is still in Lenino, and I will stick to it as much as possible." Zhukov came here to hope that Stalin would stop giving those almost ridiculous orders to his troops, because one of his regiment commanders this morning I got a small note signed by Stalin and asked his troops to use all their tanks to counterattack in the direction of Tula—there was only one tank left in that regiment, so how could they have the strength to counterattack...