Ch.30Battle of Moscow (4)

* * *

After pushing forward for some time, breaking and shaking the Red Army, the White Army temporarily pulled back.

The Black Baron thought that since Moscow was in tatters and the Red Army was collapsing like a sandcastle, he would take this opportunity to regroup and launch a full-scale offensive.

But something strange was happening in the Reds’ camp.

“The Reds are acting strangely.”

“It’s unfortunate. Since our infiltrated Okhrana was discovered, we don’t know what’s happening inside.”

The Okhrana had tried to infiltrate Moscow to incite an uprising, but regrettably, they failed.

Was it because Moscow’s citizens still liked the Bolsheviks? No, that wasn’t it.

Control over Moscow’s citizens was more effective than expected.

The Cheka thoroughly monitored Moscow’s citizens and immediately executed anyone showing signs of dissent, hanging them as examples.

“Perhaps they sense their end is near.”

“The surrendered soldiers aren’t saying much.”

“They say they escaped quietly when they found an opportunity.”

“Have you tested their ideological loyalty?”

“Yes. Nine out of ten could call Lenin a son of a bitch. The remaining one couldn’t.”

I had ordered ideological testing for those who surrendered.

They were told to speak negatively about Lenin and curse him, then repeat the same curses. I also had them explain their reasons for surrendering in various ways.

Half of it was just to see what would happen.

But to think there were actually people who couldn’t bring themselves to curse him.

Lenin’s honeypot must be quite sweet even as it sinks.

“Those ones should be sent to Siberia or executed as examples.”

“Yes.”

Can’t tolerate hardcore Reds.

Most will probably be sent to Siberia, but high-ranking Reds should be executed as examples.

I let Stalin go before, but I hope he gets captured in this battle.

It would be perfect if we could capture the complete set: Lenin, Trotsky, and Stalin.

But then.

The familiar American gentleman came to visit again.

“Look here, Grand Duchess.”

“What is it now, Mr. Fighting Cock?”

Ah, this Patton fellow. I’m a Grand Duchess, isn’t he being too disrespectful?

Fine. What does he want from me this time?

No, considering how this man chased after Ungern and crushed the Red Army, I can guess why he’s come to see me.

He probably wants a free ticket to the Moscow Red-killing survival game.

“I’m not a fighting cock, I’m Patton.”

But wait. The situation here is different from Ukraine.

The Reds have mobilized every available person to defend Moscow, as if to prove they could gather a substantial army.

Surely he doesn’t want to charge in after Ungern with just a handful of American troops like last time.

Even Ungern himself was supposed to bypass Moscow to catch any Bolsheviks trying to escape from the rear.

They were lucky on the Ukrainian front.

Above all, we must recapture Moscow ourselves.

Patton’s American troops can’t even be considered volunteer forces.

Moscow must be recaptured by the White Army itself for it to have meaning.

“Recapturing Moscow is my destiny and a goal the White Army must achieve on its own. Please don’t suggest joining the battle with your handful of American troops.”

The Germans have also been asking to participate in the Moscow battle.

It’s suspicious how they’re trying to get involved despite being a defeated nation under the guise of reinforcement.

At least the British forces seem to be busy blocking Red Army attacks in their Baltic territory, so they can’t participate here.

“No, I’m a veteran of the Great War. Don’t you understand? I’m just asking about what comes after.”

After? What does he want?

“By ‘after,’ do you mean preparing for when they try to escape Moscow?”

“I mean Ungern. I can’t lose to that man.”

Hmm. Maybe it’s not good to refuse completely.

Given this gentleman’s personality, it would be a pity if they couldn’t contribute at all.

Perhaps I’ll let him join Ungern in capturing fleeing Bolsheviks.

“Then help capture the Bolsheviks trying to escape from Moscow.”

“Hahaha! I’ll do that!”

Look at him running out so excitedly.

Is it really okay to let him be like that?

I wondered if I should call him back.

To be honest, if I had to take sides here as the Russian Grand Duchess, it would be with Ungern, not that fellow.

I turned my gaze outside the tent toward Moscow in the distance.

It feels strange watching Moscow with pillars of fire rising from artillery and bombing.

In actual history, the White Army never captured Moscow.

In the end, the White Army failed and disappeared into history.

What if we can’t change history here and suddenly God intervenes to make the Reds win—

Humanly speaking, that shouldn’t happen.

That strange old man sent me here because he hated the Reds.

Whatever happens, the outcome won’t change.

Day by day, more soldiers were deserting the Red Army, either joining our side or simply running away.

The number of deserters increased even more after we dropped leaflets from airplanes saying they could return to their home regions without surrendering to us.

The tide of war cannot be reversed.

We’ll win once we regroup and launch a full-scale offensive.

I was trying to relax with that thought, but the Reds turned out to be crazier than expected.

“The Red Army is advancing toward us.”

“What for?”

Have those madmen finally gone insane as their doom approaches?

Indeed, men wearing red stars on their caps were pouring out of Moscow’s defensive line like a red tide, rushing toward our forces.

But that’s as far as they’ll get.

With our superior firepower, our defense is more than adequate.

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat

The MG08 machine guns imported from Germany mowed down the red cockroaches.

I don’t understand why they’re making such a mindless charge, but Mikhail Frunze’s ambitious offensive was failing miserably.

At first, I was briefly surprised, thinking these madmen had lost their minds.

But the hastily assembled Red Army of poorly trained rabble was no match for the battle-hardened White Army with numerous victories under its belt.

Not only was there a difference in weapon quality, but even in hand-to-hand bayonet combat, the White Army simply slaughtered them.

Why such madness?

I should ask Drozdovsky about this.

“What does the Chief of Staff think?”

“They might be making a desperate attempt since defeat is certain anyway. They want to do something before more of their soldiers desert.”

Yes, that makes sense.

If that’s the case, then something must have happened to cause those Red Army soldiers to desert.

“And?”

“If not that, then something must have happened inside Moscow. They’re launching this reckless charge to cover it up.”

“Internal dissent erupted, you say. Then…”

If something erupted internally, it means an uprising, and whether it was suppressed or embers still remain, it signifies that Moscow is crumbling.

“There must be internal strife among the Bolsheviks.”

“That’s highly likely.”

Conflict has broken out within the Communist Party.

It’s probably not an uprising within Moscow. Perhaps they’re fighting over whether to negotiate with us or fight to the end.

That could have caused a bloodbath inside.

So Mikhail Frunze charged at us to hide it.

As expected, Frunze’s offensive failed to break through the White Army’s defensive line at all.

How could they succeed in attack when they relied on numbers even for defense?

They might have had a chance in Ukraine where British forces were few, but here they had no chance.

After a while, a Red with a white flag came from the Moscow direction.

“Our Comrade Stalin proposes ending this meaningless civil war and resolving it peacefully through democratic elections.”

Are you joking?

That’s the funniest joke I’ve ever heard in my life.

The Soviets want to end a “meaningless civil war” and hold “democratic elections”?

I hope they’re not suggesting all the bloodshed until now was just for this joke.

Anyway, it’s absurd just hearing it.

“Anyone would think the Bolsheviks were the victims.”

It looks like the weak begging the strong to spare their lives.

Anyone would think we were the bad guys.

These Reds who tried to overthrow Russia have some nerve.

“It’s not even worth considering. They’re clearly desperate to survive.”

“These Soviet Reds dissolved the Duma to seize power for themselves. Your Highness must not accept this.”

Pyotr Wrangel and Mikhail Drozdovsky were negative about it.

I have no intention of accepting either.

The Reds are full of pretense, literal liars.

Strange. These aren’t the kind of people to approach like this.

No, wait. “Our Comrade Stalin proposes?” Something must have happened to Lenin.

That’s why Stalin sent someone.

Him talking about democratic elections? The man who believes power comes from counting votes? It’s ridiculous.

He’s not an idiot, so he can’t seriously be thinking about elections.

Is this a means to buy time?

Even if they buy time, the situation won’t improve for them.

There’s no group anywhere that would support the Bolsheviks.

Who would help those treated like cockroaches worldwide?

Yes, there’s only one explanation.

“They’re trying to escape.”

“Pardon?”

There’s no way for them to hold out here until the end.

Some Bolsheviks might be prepared to fight to the death, but looking at the current state of the Reds, an uprising in Moscow wouldn’t be surprising.

They must know that even if Red Army forces from the Baltic arrive, they’d be hard to stop.

So they’ll use them to cover their escape instead.

“Logically, they can’t be making this proposal seriously. These are the Bolsheviks who dissolved the Duma to take everything for themselves. Now they talk about elections? They’re well past the point where they could be confident of winning an election.”

Even if they’ve genuinely become stupid enough from our punches to seriously consider elections, who would support the current Bolsheviks?

How many people would risk their lives to give power to the Soviets who are grinding down the people?

They’ve been even more stained with authoritarianism and violence than in actual history.

They certainly won’t look good.

“So then.”

“In the end, it’s a ploy to buy time, and there’s no one anywhere who would help them stop us.”

“Then they’re planning to escape.”

Yes. As always, escape is familiar to them.

They’re escaping to seize another opportunity, to plan for the future.

This escape will essentially mean the defeat of communism, but are they okay with that?

Well, that’s their problem.

Something definitely happened to Lenin. That’s why someone who appears to be Stalin’s subordinate came.

And.

I have no intention of letting this Soviet messenger go.

Even now, he’s probably looking for a way to escape.

It might be good to send him back, make them feel secure, and then strike immediately.

But it would be better to keep pushing now.

“Something must have happened to Lenin. Interrogate this man.”

“Yes!”

“G-Grand Duchess comrade, I don’t know anything—”

Who is this bastard calling “comrade”?

Even if I am a dead Grand Duchess, I have absolutely no desire to be called “comrade” by a Red.

Because of these Red bastards, the 21st century is devastated. The only good Red is a dead Red.

“How dare you call Her Highness ‘comrade’! Take him away immediately!”

“We can’t give them time. Let’s attack now.”

Stalin must be trying to find a way to escape, but Stalin, you bastard, where do you think you’re going?

I absolutely will not let that happen.

As Mikhail Frunze’s attack was dying down, our side launched a counterattack.

This time, I personally moved with the soldiers, firing a gun and commanding the army directly.

Just like during the Yekaterinburg battle.

“Sons of Greater Russia! Moscow’s defense line has collapsed miserably! Now, advance! Your Tsarina is with you! With this attack, recapture the Third Rome!”

“May God protect the Tsarina and the White Army!”

“Greater Russian Empire, hurrah!”

The White Army uniform had a dark green top and black bottom.

At a glance, it looked like a black wave with a tinge of green breaking through the Red Star’s defense line and engulfing Moscow.

After Mikhail Frunze’s offensive failed, the Bolsheviks lost their defensive capability as well.

Moscow, which had been facing us with numbers rather than fierce resistance, gradually saw its defense line shaken by the White Army’s strong attack.

The moment was approaching.

“Russian subjects conscripted into the Red Army! Will you die like dogs for the Bolsheviks who oppress you, drive you to the brink, and throw away your lives like straw? Surrender, all of you! In the name of Anastasia, not in the name of the Romanovs you cannot trust, but in the name of a saint. I will forgive you!”

I stood with the White Army soldiers and shook the Red Army.

It would work now.

Mikhail Frunze’s final attack had failed, and they had nothing left.

Sure enough, the Red Army side began to hesitate.

They stopped firing and stood awkwardly, whispering among themselves.

“Your Highness! It’s dangerous!”

“Comrades! Ignore the Grand Duchess’s words! Kill those reactionaries!”

“Don’t be their meat shields. Surrender and join the White Army!”

“Shut up!”

Bang bang bang!

Perhaps because there were many deserters, the political officers following behind the Red Army to prevent desertion shot at me.

“Your Highness!”

The White Army camp called out in alarm.

Unfortunately for them, I didn’t die.

It hurts, but apparently not enough to pierce my body.

The bullets couldn’t even tear my uniform and fell to the ground.

“They said she was a saint. She really is a saint.”

“She must be under God’s protection.”

The Red Army soldiers stared at me blankly.

Even the political officers who had been shooting gaped in astonishment and their eyes trembled.

“W-witch.”

Witch? That’s rude.

And my sainthood certification caused a change among the enemy soldiers fighting against us.

Bang!

The Red Army soldiers who had been charging toward us out of fear of the political officers’ guns turned their rifles and began shooting the political officers.

The Red Army, which had been desperately fighting against the White Army in a defensive battle, collapsed in an instant.

The red flags came down, and the imperial tricolor with the double-headed eagle filled the battlefield.