Vulcan legion

Guernica, a small city in Spain, held little military significance. Its modest features included a small bank, a candy factory, several chapels, and a few small hospitals. If one were to argue its strategic importance, they might point to the railway station, a light weapons factory on the outskirts, and a highway bridge to Bilbao.

On this particular day at 4:30 p.m., as local farmers and businessmen traded cattle, sheep, and agricultural products in the downtown area, the church bells suddenly rang. Clergy members, spotting distant aircraft, alerted the populace. Panic ensued as people scrambled for cover, seeking refuge in cellars, under bridges, and in makeshift dugouts.

Merely two minutes later, a squadron of Do-217 bombers—part of Germany's "Vulture Legion"—unleashed six massive bombs on the unsuspecting city. The facade of the local Hotel Julian was obliterated, exposing the interior of four floors. Juan Chiric, who had rushed to help extinguish fires 100 meters away, was knocked to the ground by the blast. As he regained his bearings, he witnessed a horrific sight: limbs and heads strewn through the air.

Following the initial assault, a barrage of incendiary bombs rained down, particularly targeting wooden structures. Fanned by the wind, the fires quickly spread, consuming everything flammable in their path. All the hospitals were destroyed, claiming the lives of sick children, the wounded, and the medical staff who had been caring for them.

At lower altitudes, He-51 fighter planes piloted by the Franco National Army swooped in, strafing anyone caught in the open with their machine guns. A Basque pastor named Alberto Odina, hiding in the outskirts, watched helplessly as these planes executed their deadly runs. "Blood flowed everywhere, explosions sparked fires, and thick smoke billowed," he later recalled. This chaos was so intense that, according to German Air Force records, pilots had to fly lower to distinguish between the city and its suburbs due to the smoke.

By dusk, as the last planes departed, most of Guernica lay in flames. The following morning, international journalists arriving on the scene found the city still smoldering. Amidst the ruins, they observed devastated survivors searching for loved ones and belongings. In a nearby field, over 600 civilian bodies were discovered piled together. The final death toll was uncertain, but estimates suggested at least 2,000 people perished in the attack.

The bombing had decimated the town center—70% of the buildings were completely destroyed, and another 20% severely damaged. Remarkably, the light weapons factory and the highway bridge had survived the onslaught. Historically, Guernica had been a symbol of the free and independent Basque spirit, celebrated under an oak where Spanish monarchs once pledged to respect local rights. Now, it was reduced to a war-torn relic, prompting global outrage against the brutality of the Franco National Army and their German allies.

Despite international condemnation, the German government publicly denied any involvement. At a meeting of the Grand German Party, spokesperson Fanny claimed that while the German people abhorred atrocities and supported the Spanish in their civil conflict, the Guernica massacre was the act of a rogue element. Meanwhile, members of the Vulture Legion, still active on the front lines, avoided discussing the incident, never boasting about the devastation they had wrought.

The impact of the Guernica airstrike extended beyond its immediate horror, weakening the Republican military's defenses in the region. Within a month, the National Army had overrun Guernica and advanced into Bilbao. This success prompted discussions within the German Air Force about future strategies, particularly regarding the development of strategic bombers.

At the Luftwaffe headquarters in Berlin, debates raged between proponents of long-range bombers and those advocating for a focus on tactical aircraft. Air Force Commander Catherine and Deputy Commander Hulk argued against the costly development of strategic bombers, citing the immediate need for more fighters to defend German airspace. In contrast, proponents, including the Chief of the General Staff of the Air Force, pushed for the development of bombers capable of delivering devastating attacks deep within enemy territory.

In a tense meeting, Catherine expressed his frustration to Akado, the head of state, about the financial and logistical challenges of expanding the Luftwaffe's capabilities. Despite their concerns, Akado insisted on the necessity of a four-engine strategic bomber, directing that resources be allocated for its development.

As Akado navigated these complex military demands, he also faced immense pressure from the Navy, which sought significant expansions, including ocean-going submarines and aircraft carriers, to challenge British maritime dominance. Overwhelmed by the scale of these requests and the strategic implications, Akado lamented the burdens of leadership, feeling trapped in a relentless pursuit of military supremacy as Germany edged closer to another major conflict.

In the heart of Moscow, within the walls of the Kremlin, a tense discussion unfolded between Joseph Stalin and his trusted confidant, Nikita Khrushchev. 

"You don't understand the catastrophic consequences this purge could bring to the entire Soviet Union?" Khrushchev questioned, his voice tinged with concern.

Stalin, unfazed, responded with a stern certainty that belied the gravity of their conversation. "You're wrong! I understand these consequences better than anyone else! But it is still something I must do." His gaze was intense, his voice firm, as he continued to address Khrushchev. "Comrade Khrushchev, you are still too young to see the full picture."

He gestured grandly towards the expanse of Red Square visible from the window, his voice swelling with pride. "Look at this, the largest country in the world! We possess vast territories that many countries could only dream of! With these resources, we can accomplish what others cannot even dare to imagine."

Stalin paced towards the window, his silhouette framed against the backdrop of Moscow. "Consider Akado, the head of state in Germany. He must envy our position. We were dealt a strong hand from the start, and it appears we can afford to lose yet still benefit from the development of what we need. If not for our abundant resources, would the Germans have shared so much technology with us?"

Khrushchev, still puzzled, interjected, "But Comrade Stalin! Is this purge necessarily related to our use of resources?"

Stalin turned, his expression one of fierce determination. "I'm racing against time, Comrade Khrushchev! I'm racing against Akado! By purging the political enemies that hold us back, we can complete our plans more swiftly. Then, the Soviet Union will be stronger than ever, with world-class technology from Germany and vast territories unified under strict control. We will dominate the world!"

He pointed assertively at a map on the wall. "If Germany lags, we can swiftly take Finland, Poland, Romania, and other countries, becoming the overlord of Europe. We might even surpass Germany and become the most powerful nation in the world, unmatched even by the United States!"

"But what if we fail? What if the Germans move faster than us?" Khrushchev asked anxiously.

"With Poland as a buffer, we have ample time to prepare! We cannot afford to be slower than the Germans! We must accelerate our internal purge and complete our plans before the Germans initiate their next war," Stalin declared resolutely.

Khrushchev, still concerned, questioned the political cost of their actions. "What do we do next? We've arrested several old comrades, and now the elders are deeply dissatisfied. If we continue this way, we risk losing supporters."

Stalin's response was cold and calculated. "Then we eliminate a high-ranking figure to silence these self-righteous fools. My vision is clear—the Soviet Union's supremacy makes sense only under my leadership. Without me, even an invincible Soviet Union is meaningless."

Khrushchev nodded, albeit hesitantly, his voice a mix of doubt and reverence. "I understand. Long live Comrade Stalin, the great leader of the Soviet Union!"

Stalin, sensing Khrushchev's skepticism, turned and handed him a document. "Look at this, and you will understand."

Khrushchev examined the papers, his eyes widening at the data. It detailed the exponential growth of the Soviet military: from a modest tank force in 1920 to a formidable armada by the mid-1920s, surpassing even the largest European armies. The document also outlined the expansion of the Soviet Navy, now a formidable force capable of challenging any maritime power.

The Germans, through a complex web of diplomatic and economic ties, had ensnared many nations in their rearmament efforts, extracting immense profits and strategically positioning themselves across Europe.

Khrushchev, now fully grasping the scale of Stalin's ambitions, placed the documents back on the desk with a newfound resolve. "Comrade Stalin, no one desires a powerful Soviet Union more than we do. I swear to support you wholeheartedly in our quest to build a world superpower!"

Stalin, somewhat appeased, nodded. "Comrade Kirov's departure is a significant loss. His position must be filled by someone equally capable."

Khrushchev, his voice now firm and resolute, repeated his earlier oath. "Long live Comrade Stalin, the great Soviet leader!"

Meanwhile, in a secret British military base on the outskirts of Birmingham, a group of engineers and military officials were engrossed in a discussion about a new vest designed for soldiers. The vest, equipped with multiple pockets and adjustment straps, was praised for its practicality despite its lack of aesthetic appeal.

An intelligence officer presented a document detailing a shipment of obsolete Mauser 98k rifles from Germany to China via Polish railways, highlighting the strategic movements of their adversaries.

Colonel Montgomery, recently promoted to Major General due to his insights into German tank warfare, analyzed the implications of German rearmament and its potential impact on future conflicts. His conclusion was stark: Germany was arming at an alarming rate, and their military efficiency posed a significant threat.

As the group deliberated on their next moves, the conversation turned to the broader strategic picture, acknowledging the complexities of international alliances and the looming threat of war. 

The scene at the British base underscored the global tension and the intricate dance of diplomacy and military preparedness that defined the era, setting the stage for a conflict that would eventually engulf the world.