But Germany’s conflict with either side was far from obvious. It’s important to note that now we know Hitler as the alter ego of Satan and his party as the embodiment of absolute evil. One of the most common questions, for example, about the Finns or Romanians, is “how could they fight for Hitler?” But people in the 1930s viewed things quite differently; for most of them, the National Socialist regime was by no means inherently bad and certainly not untouchable. Firstly, Hitler came to power quite legally through the most honest and democratic elections that were conducted at the time. The legitimacy of the chancellor and his party was not disputed, and the German government was recognized worldwide. There were also quite solid economic successes achieved in a record short time, as well as an unprecedented national rise and unity. Many politicians of that time openly envied their German colleague and tried to learn from his example.
No particular cruelty was associated with the Führer and his supporters at that time either. “The Night of the Long Knives”23 – ordinary intra-party disputes that happen in many countries even now, and for that troubled time, it was nothing unusual. In scale, it appeared quite moderate: compared to, for example, Stalin’s political processes – it was insignificant. Yes, the NSDAP had a very specific attitude towards communists and Jews, the Nuremberg racial laws looked unpleasant… But even here, nothing unusual was evident – hatred of Bolshevism was, and in some places remains, a characteristic feature of the Western mentality, and racial and national segregation, including laws very similar to the German ones, persisted, for example, in the USA even after the war. Yes, Hitler was quite an eccentric personality, an unpleasant negotiation partner, and a stubborn fanatic patriot, but none of these traits discredited him as a politician. And there were still a few years left until the gas chambers and mass executions of prisoners of war, and such a development of events was not seriously considered.
The relations between the Soviet Union and Germany before the war were uneven, but for the most part, rather positive: the shared interests of European outcasts played a role. The Treaty of Versailles pushed both countries to the sidelines of world politics and helping each other was more natural for them than being hostile. Moreover, the German people as a whole clearly leaned towards socialism and almost organized the second socialist state in Europe, which also connected them, if not the ruling regimes, then at least the nations.
Even more unnatural to many seemed the conflict between Germany and England. Despite the confrontation of the First World War, there was a two-century tradition of cooperation between the countries, reinforced by the ethnic closeness of the peoples and the blood kinship of the aristocracy. From the perspective of racial theory, the English could not be considered an inferior nation since they belonged to the same Germanic peoples – Saxons and Celts. British kings were ethnically German, and in principle, neither did Germany have serious historical claims against England nor vice versa. Finally, the countries had little to divide: there were no common borders or territorial claims, and British colonies, unlike at the beginning of the century, no longer represented any special interest for the Germans. Both in the German and British elite, there were powerful factions that believed the interests of the two states in the upcoming war almost aligned. To ultimately end up on opposite sides of the barricades, the Germans had to renounce Hess24 – the second man in the state, and the English had to renounce Edward VIII25 – their legitimate king.
In the east, everything was also extremely complicated. Russia and Japan had been in very tense relations since the beginning of the century and had fought each other several times – once on a large scale and many times on a smaller scale. The Japanese government did not hide its claims on the Far East but could not simultaneously wage war in the west and the south, and a simultaneous conflict with the European metropolises, the USSR, and the USA seemed blatant suicide. At the same time, the Soviet Union needed nothing from Japan except peace; its main interests were formed in Europe, not in Asia26.
As a result, all diplomacy in Europe boiled down to the Anglo-French coalition on one side and the USSR on the other actively inciting Hitler against each other with the idea of “pitting the Nazis against the enemy, preparing properly, and then attacking the victor.” In the end, the Germans made the best use of all this “Byzantine” intrigue, first gathering Central Europe under themselves with the passive support of the West, then with Soviet help defeating France and bleeding England, and finally delivering a crushing blow to the east. In Asia, Soviet diplomacy proved more effective, and Japan’s strike fell on the British, the Dutch, and then the United States.
But such an arrangement came together at the very last moment and was not at all necessary. Already during World War II, when the Red Army was struggling through the blood-soaked Karelian swamps into Finland, French volunteers were boarding ships intending to defend the Finns from “Bolshevik aggression,” and the British dominions were sending planes and weapons to Helsinki. Had the Wehrmacht delayed the defeat of France, no anti-Hitler coalition involving the USSR might have formed, especially since the Soviet Union entered Poland, and thus the war, alongside Germany. And if instead of Pearl Harbor, Vladivostok had been bombed, the United States would likely not have actively opposed it. All three military-political blocs harbored absolutely no sympathy for each other and willingly united in any combination with the ultimate goal of weakening, or if lucky, destroying the other two.
Is it any wonder that as soon as the swift victory over Germany became apparent, the former allies quarreled among themselves? And it can hardly be called a quarrel, as it seemed more like political expediency. Stalin, Roosevelt, and Churchill could meet in Yalta or Tehran and negotiate spheres of influence and the post-war world order, but all these agreements remained purely a forced compromise, as their ideas of what was fair, right, and aligned with their “national interests” were practically opposite from the start.
Tanks Against Tanks
Boys love tanks and often imagine war as a clash of tank armadas: T-34s on one side, “Tigers” and “Panthers” on the other. Tanks create a sense of security and impunity simultaneously: as if you yourself grow a thousand-horsepower engine and a long, all-penetrating gun, shielded by thick armor against which any other weapon is powerless.
The myth of the invincibility of tank armadas is purely a Soviet phenomenon, a legacy not even of World War II, but of the fervent pre-war propaganda that convinced Red Army soldiers there was essentially nothing to fear; thick armor and powerful engines would make war easy and safe.
Despite the not too impressive results, tanks are still loved in Russia to this day, stockpiling them in quantities unattainable for the rest of the world. How can one not recall that even before the war, the USSR had more tanks than all other powers combined? Unfortunately, this did not save them from brutal defeats.
To be fair, tanks were not created, nor did they claim to be a universal weapon. They appeared in World War I when it became clear that at the then-current level of technology, infantry practically had no chance of breaking through well-fortified enemy lines, that cavalry was ineffective against machine guns and a continuous front, and something entirely new was needed to break the war out of the trench deadlock. In World War I, many things were tried: airplanes, airships, and chemical warfare agents. Tanks found their place but in two roles: as breakthrough weapons (in England, they were called “infantry” tanks, and in the USSR “medium” and “heavy” tanks) and as a mobile means to roam the enemy’s rear after the success of the breakthrough itself,