Hitler's war
- Автор: Тертлдав Гарри Норман
- Серия: The War that came early #1
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Альтернативная история
Электронная книга - «Hitler's war». Краткое содержание книги:
Now, in this thrilling, provocative, and fascinating alternate history by Harry Turtledove, another scenario is played out: What if Chamberlain had not signed the accord? What if Hitler had acted rashly, before his army was ready-would such impatience have helped him or doomed him faster? Here is an action-packed, blow-by-blow chronicle of the war that might have been-and the repercussions that might have echoed through history-had Hitler reached too far, too soon, and too fast.
Turtledove uses dozens of points of view to tell this story: from American marines serving in Japanese-occupied China to members of a Jewish German family with a proud history of war service to their nation, from ragtag volunteers fighting in the Abraham Lincoln Battalion in Spain to an American woman desperately trying to escape Nazi-occupied territory-and witnessing the war from within the belly of the beast.
A novel that reveals the human face of war while simultaneously riding the twists and turns that make up the great acts of history, Hitler's War is the beginning of an exciting new alternate history saga. Here is a tale of powerful leaders and ordinary people, of spies, soldiers, and traitors, of the shifting alliances that draw some together while tearing others apart. At once authoritative, brilliantly imaginative, and hugely entertaining, Hitler's War captures the beginning of a very different World War II-with a very different fate for our world today.
Theo grunted and forgot about Ludwig. He put the earphones back on. After a moment, he nodded, not to Rothe but to the radio set. “You finally find the dead one?” Ludwig asked hopefully.
A moment later, he remembered Theo couldn’t hear him any more. He didn’t want to tear the earphones off the radioman’s head again; that was pushing things, even for a sergeant.
For a wonder, Hossbach doffed the earphones of his own accord. “We’re back in business,” he reported.
“Outstanding!” Because Ludwig had given him a hard time before, he made himself sound enthusiastic now. Yes, Theo lived in his old little world and visited the real one as seldom as he could get away with, but he did his job pretty well anyhow. Ludwig had heard plenty of other panzer commanders bitch about their radiomen and drivers in terms that horrified him. All in all, he was more lucky than not.
French artillery came down about half a kilometer in front of the panzer park. Somebody was getting it in the neck-probably a bunch of poor, damned infantrymen, as usual-but the precious panzers stayed out of range of enemy guns when not actually fighting.
Planes buzzed by overhead. Ludwig looked up, more curious than worried. Sure enough, Stukas and Messerschmitts flew west to punish the French and the English. The enemy didn’t use planes against German forces anywhere near so much. Ludwig was damned glad of it, too. He’d seen what air power could do to soldiers. He didn’t want anybody doing that to him.
German 105s opened up. Maybe they were shooting at the French guns. Maybe they were softening up the poilus so the next German thrust could finally break through them instead of just pushing them back. Maybe…Ludwig laughed at himself. Not for the first time, he was pretending he’d joined the General Staff. No Lampassen on the legs of his black coveralls.
Something off in the distance blew up with a hell of a bang. Even Theo noticed. “Ammunition dump?” he said.
“Christ, I hope so,” Ludwig answered. “Damned Frenchmen have already thrown more shit at us than we ever thought they had. The more we can get rid of, the less they’re liable to hit us with.”
Theo blinked in owlish surprise. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“You’re always off in Radioland,” Ludwig said. “Half the time, I don’t think you even remember there’s a war on.”
“Oh, I remember,” Theo said. “I’d be doing something better than this if they hadn’t stuck a uniform on me. So would you.” He still looked like an owl, but a challenging owl now.
Getting that much of a rise out of him took Ludwig by surprise. “Watch your mouth!” the panzer commander said again. “The way things are, if anybody in the other blackshirts hears you go on like that, you’re down the shitter.” He was proud of those panzer coveralls, but wished the SS didn’t wear the same color.
Theo nodded slowly. He seemed much more…engaged with the real world than he often did. He even looked around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping before he said, “Well, you’re right about that, too. And things shouldn’t work that way, either. You know damn well they shouldn’t.”
“We’ll fix it after the war,” Ludwig said. “We can’t waste time worrying about it now. If France and England beat us again, we’re screwed. Remember how it was when we were kids, when they occupied us and we needed a bushel of marks to get a bushel of turnips? Do you want to see those days back again?”
“Who would? Only a crazy man.” But Theo looked around again. Softly, he added, “The other thing I don’t want is, I don’t want our own side fucking us over. And that’s what we’ve got.”
He’d just put his life in Ludwig’s hands. If Ludwig reported him the way a dutiful sergeant was supposed to, he’d have a new radioman in short order. What would happen to Theo after that was none of his business. He would be better off not wondering about such things. Theo wouldn’t, but he would.
But he didn’t want a new radioman. Theo spent too much time in his own little world, but most days he did a good job. If he doubted whether Germany was always wise…well, so did Ludwig. Gruffly, the sergeant clapped the other man on the shoulder. “We’ll take care of that after the war, too. They’ll have to listen to us then.”
“Nobody has to do anything.” Theo spoke with unwonted conviction. But then he must have realized he’d taken things as far as they could go, or more likely a few centimeters farther. He seemed to shrink back into himself. “Well, we’d better worry about the Frenchies right this minute, eh?”
“Now you’re talking!” Relief filled Ludwig’s voice. Something else on-he hoped-the French side of the line went up with a hell of a bang. That relieved him, too. He knew how hideously vulnerable to antitank rounds the Panzer II was. As with the previous bang, the fewer of them the enemy could aim at him, the better.
The panzers rattled forward an hour or so later. Foot soldiers in Feldgrau loped along with the armor. One of them waved to Ludwig, who stood head and shoulders out of the cupola. He nodded back. Panzers could do things the infantry only dreamt about. Everybody knew that, and had known it all along. But the war had taught a different lesson: that panzers needed infantrymen, too. Without them, enemy soldiers could get in close and raise all kinds of hell with grenades and bottles full of blazing gasoline and whatever other lethal little toys they happened to carry.
Stukas screamed down out of the sky. Fire and smoke and dirt rose into the air a few hundred meters ahead. Even at that distance, blast from the big bombs rattled Ludwig’s teeth. What it was doing to the bastards in khaki on whom the bombs fell…Ludwig felt a curious mixture of sympathy and hope that nobody up ahead was in any shape to fight any more.
A forlorn hope, and he knew it. Some of them would be dead. Some would be maimed, or too shellshocked to know sausage from Saturday. But there were always some lucky, stubborn assholes who’d…He hadn’t even finished the thought before a French machine gun started banging away.
A Landser toppled, clutching at his chest. Other German foot soldiers hit the dirt. Ludwig was back inside the turret a split second before several bullets rattled off the panzer’s armor. Small-arms ammo couldn’t get through. That never stopped machine gunners from trying.
“Scheisse,” Fritz said. Like Ludwig, the driver must have hoped the Stukas would do all their work for them.
Ludwig swung the turret toward the closest French machine gun. He fired back, hot 20mm cartridge cases clattering down onto the fighting compartment’s floor. The enemy Hotchkiss fell silent. The panzer pushed on.
Chapter Nineteen
Meaux was gone. Luc Harcourt could see the smoke in the east, much of which came from the lost town. Maybe the Boches were celebrating by burning everything they couldn’t steal. Or maybe French engineers had planted charges under everything they didn’t want the enemy to use. German prisoners who spoke French had nothing but admiration for the engineers.
As far as Luc was concerned, who torched or blew up what hardly mattered any more. No matter who did it, France caught hell. All he cared about was staying in one piece till the war ended.
No guarantee of that. Sergeant Demange was commanding the company. No replacement officer had come forward since Lieutenant Marquet stopped an antitank round with his stomach. It cut him in half. The top half lived, and screamed, much longer than Luc wished it would have.