After issuing the orders for his units to withdraw, Model did not stop. He turned to the staff officers in the command post and said, "Next, send a telegram to the General Staff."

One officer took notes while another prepared the transmission. All held their breath, waiting for the words of the Commander of the Army, Field Marshal Walter Model.

"From the Commander of the Army to the General Staff. Previous battle reports between our forces and the enemy have been forwarded. Now, I shall relay my assessment of this campaign. The victory of any army is built upon adequate armament, organization, and training. These, in turn, are founded upon the formidable economic strength of a nation. Therefore, regardless of ethnicity or race, any army capable of completing such training will possess corresponding combat effectiveness. No significant gap will emerge due to racial differences.

"Consequently, our discrimination against non-Aryan peoples and nations has led to our inability to make correct judgments regarding this war. War must be founded upon a correct national strategy, not upon an imagined view of the world. Recognizing the facts is terrifying; admitting them is painful. Yet the result of failing to do so is inevitably total defeat..."

Hearing Model’s words, many officers looked on in shock. Yet others remained composed, nodding in agreement. Most German officers were not fanatics but well-educated professionals. If Nazi theory were correct, given the Wehrmacht’s level of skill and its resolve to fight to the end, the Black armies should have been shattered long ago. Instead, the Black soldiers had proven themselves adept with their equipment and tactically superior at every level. To acknowledge reality was to acknowledge that Nazi theory was a lie.

Model did not deliver a long-winded tirade, nor did he launch a blistering attack on the government. He simply expressed his views with the same professionalism he always had. His statement was brief, yet every officer present felt the profound sorrow in his voice.

On April 20th, after two days and a night of relentless retreat, the southern forces finally reached the Ruhr. As Germany’s most vital industrial zone, the Ruhr produced the brown coal and coke used for steel smelting, while its byproducts yielded various organic compounds. This concentration of resources had made it the heart of German industry.

On April 21st, as Model’s convoy sped through the region, he saw that every factory in the once-prosperous Ruhr had been reduced to rubble. The power plants, as priority targets, had been struck by heavy ordnance, leaving massive craters in the ground where they once stood.

Passing a pulverized power station, the convoy encountered a group of civilians carrying various containers from a distance. judging by their direction, Model guessed they were coming from outside the city. Why would they travel so far in the middle of a war?

As he was thinking, the officer in charge of security suddenly shouted, "Aircraft!"

The convoy immediately ducked into a nearby concealed area. A large reason why the Chinese military was able to hammer the Wehrmacht so effectively was their complete air superiority. Just as Soviet artillery was attached down to the battalion and company levels, Chinese air support was available to even the smallest units. A single company, if its advance were checked, could call for immediate support from the sky.

Beyond that, the Chinese Air Force conducted "guard flights" day and night. Aside from supporting ground units, they patrolled along Germany’s railways, highways, waterways, and transport hubs. Any motorized vehicle or vessel spotted was attacked on sight.

Model felt no urge to scream in rage; he simply felt powerless. A German division might risk everything to reach its jump-off point, yet no matter how well they hid their march, they were invariably struck heavily before arrival. Had it not been for this air dominance, and had the war been a simple ground contest, the Wehrmacht would never have been defeated so ignominiously. At the very least, they would have inflicted ten times the damage on the Chinese.

Model and his men hid, and the German civilians joined them with practiced ease. Finding themselves under the same ruins, Model’s guards began a basic inquiry.

They learned that with the industry destroyed, the water supply had been severed following the bombing of the civilian waterworks. German industrial production had a long history of severe pollution; with the waterworks gone, residents preferred to walk several kilometers to fetch water from distant sources rather than risk the local supply.

Model felt a pang of sorrow. These civilians looked as if they hadn't bathed in months—filthy, gaunt, and sallow from months of food shortages. More than their appearance, although they answered questions truthfully, they pointedly avoided eye contact with the soldiers, as if terrified of being pressed into service.

Turning his gaze away, Model felt only a profound desolation. He remembered the march into the Rhineland, the annexation of Austria, and the heartfelt love the German people had shown the Wehrmacht then. Every soldier had been greeted with salutes, flowers, and even sweets.

He remembered the return to the fatherland after the one-month defeat of France. The crowds lining the streets, the cheering and applause—he could still remember it.

But now, five years later, the German people dared not even speak to their own soldiers.

The decision he had already made was now more resolute than ever. The Chinese fighters circled overhead several times without spotting anything and eventually departed.

Seizing the narrow window, the convoy resumed its journey. Upon finally reaching his headquarters, the communications officer immediately delivered Hitler’s latest order. Model didn't even have to read it to know what it said.

Sure enough, Hitler ordered Model to fight to the last man and the last gun. Model crumpled the telegram and tossed it aside. He turned to the assembled officers and said, "Gentlemen, I am now issuing orders to all units in the Ruhr region."

The officers rose, their nerves taut. Despite the unprecedented defeat and the staggering losses, under Model’s command, the southern and western units had reached the Ruhr with minimal cost. Even surrounded, the troops finally had a moment to breathe. Given Model’s tactical brilliance and his legendary composure under fire, the officers expected him to produce a miracle.

Thinking of the impending death struggle, many found it hard to breathe. Then they heard Model’s voice: "Given that all units have lost a functional chain of command and are unable to continue organized combat, I order, in my capacity as Commander of the German Army, that all units in the Ruhr and the Southern regions be disbanded on the spot. This order is to be executed immediately!"

The officers were stunned. If there was anything more unexpected than a hero's death, it was an order to disband. For those who had served under Model in the Soviet salients during the winter of 1942 and spring of 1943, the command was incomprehensible.

Back then, to defend against the Red Army, Model had personally directed tiny fragmented units amidst the fire. As the Soviets broke through at great cost, he would plug the gaps with these small units, turning crumbling lines into elastic new ones. In those battles, Model had been cold-blooded, treating his men as mere consumables to be thrown into the breach. That he would prepare a defense of the entire Ruhr, perhaps even utilizing the local population as human shields or cannon fodder, would have surprised no one.

To order the units to disband and find their own way to survive—this was an entirely different Model. Yet no one objected. Everyone realized he was offering the men trapped in the Ruhr a chance at life.

Model offered no further explanation. Seeing the communications officer dispatching the orders, he straightened his soiled uniform and walked toward the exit of the command post—a building that looked as if it might collapse at any moment yet remained stubbornly upright.

As he stepped out, footsteps echoed behind him. Major Bell, his adjutant, ran out and blocked his path. "Commander! Where are you going? I will organize a unit to escort you in a breakout!"

Model was touched by Bell’s loyalty, yet it only added to his sorrow. The WPLA, utilizing its massive armored fleet, had the Ruhr sealed tight. Surrendering meant a chance at life; a breakout was not a slim hope, it was a death sentence.

"Do not worry about me," Model said. "Since the units have disbanded, you should go your own way according to your own judgment."

Bell persisted. "Marshal, I will see you through the encirclement!"

Model shook his head and said solemnly, "A German Field Marshal does not become a prisoner. But a Major at such a time should live for himself. Thank you, Major. I have made my own preparations."

With that, Model called for his driver and departed by car. Bell watched the receding vehicle with a well of emotion, finally snapping to attention and saluting the car's silhouette.

The car headed for the outskirts. Perhaps because the Chinese air force had just finished their patrol, they did not return. The journey was peaceful until they reached the edge of a forest.

Model stepped out and dismissed his soldiers. Having received the order to disband, they guessed what he intended. While they did not stop his suicide, they refused to leave.

"Marshal, is there anything more we can do for you?" one soldier asked.

Model had reached the end of his tether. He removed his monocle, his eyes rimmed with red. Having never wept once in his adult life, he spoke with a choked voice: "I am utterly disappointed in the Third Reich. I am exhausted, and I need to rest."

With that, he checked his pistol, ensuring it was loaded. He stepped into the trees, leaving the soldiers looking at one another in confusion by the car.

They had expected some final words or a commemorative gesture before the end. But Model had not been gone long when a single shot rang out from within the forest. Judging by the sound, the Marshal had continued walking and then raised the weapon to himself without a second’s hesitation or pause.

The soldiers rushed into the trees. They found Field Marshal Model lying on the ground beside several large trees. A bullet had pierced his temple; he was dead.

The men marked the location, then returned to the car for entrenching tools. They dug a grave for their Marshal and, after a simple burial, placed a cross made of tied branches at his head.

Theoretically, the German forces in the south and west had ceased to exist with the order to disband. In reality, the vast majority surrendered. Only a handful attempted a breakout, and fewer still escaped the pocket.

News of Model's suicide reached Berlin via a staff officer from the "former command" still in the Ruhr.

Hitler, however, had no time to read the report. The Soviet Red Army was sweeping away all opposition, their vanguard already reaching the outer limits of Berlin. Along the way, the only units capable of a fighting retreat without being shattered were a few elite Waffen-SS divisions—particularly the 3rd SS "Totenkopf." Under the command of Theodor Eicke, the unit remained orderly even in defeat, conducting a leap-frogging rearguard with the "Wiking" and "Das Reich" divisions.

The regular Wehrmacht, by contrast, was surrendering en masse once defeated, showing no will to fight to the end.

While failing to annihilate these SS units was a source of regret, the Soviets noted they were all concentrating in Berlin. The Red Army immediately began outflanking the city. Mechanized units struck out left and right in a wide arc, cutting the roads south of Berlin. Infantry followed in rapid support, and by April 20th, Berlin was completely encircled.

According to Soviet intelligence, Hitler was within the city. The primary culprit for the agony of the Soviet Union was trapped. The Red Army was determined that not a single rat should escape Berlin; those who had committed atrocities on Soviet soil, along with their Führer, would be utterly destroyed.

When the news reached Moscow, Stalin did not treat it as his highest priority. His attention was focused not on the doomed Berlin, but on the meeting between the Red Army’s furthest scouting parties and the WPLA vanguard at the Elbe River.

The front reported that photos and film were being flown back. Stalin had just finished a stack of photos and was now watching the film with Kirov and Molotov.

In the footage, a troop of Soviet cavalry had dismounted. Across from them, the WPLA soldiers were in military jeeps and a single six-wheeled armored personnel carrier. The APC, with a machine gun mounted on top, looked exceptionally combat-ready.

Most of the WPLA personnel were Black. They looked on with curiosity at the Russians but appeared entirely composed. A few officers had Asian features—likely Chinese—and were seen conversing with their Soviet counterparts.

Sino-Soviet relations were those of neighbors. Kirov felt a wave of emotion seeing the two armies link up on German soil.

Stalin said nothing until the film of the friendly exchange and the trading of gifts concluded. When the lights were turned up, he returned to the photos. While the film captured the camaraderie, many of the photos were of the WPLA equipment.

It was clearly of the highest quality. Even without being an equipment specialist, Stalin could make that judgment by instinct. Chinese gear was fundamentally different from Soviet gear. Where the Soviet designs used simplification, the Chinese equipment appeared far more complex. Yet this complexity was not the over-engineered "patchwork" of German gear; the Chinese designs were noticeably more concise.

After making the comparison, any lingering thought of a conflict with China vanished from Stalin's mind. He judged that if he tried to seize more territory through friction, the Red Army would likely be beaten badly.

Since conflict was out of the question, Stalin turned to Molotov. "Will China’s attitude toward Turkey remain unchanged?"

Molotov sighed. The Central Committee knew they would not be sweeping through Eastern Europe. To avoid Soviet occupation, Bulgaria and Hungary had both turned to China. Turkey, which had remained neutral throughout the war, had been one of the first delegations to arrive in the Chinese capital for He Rui’s funeral diplomacy.

Turkey had feared China would sell them out to maintain relations with the USSR, only to find China guaranteeing that the security of legitimate national borders would be respected. Faced with the Soviets, Turkey showed no sign of backing down. They had immediately joined the Chinese-led UN order and requested UN protection for their territorial integrity.

The USSR was far more powerful than Turkey, and the traditional Russian habit was to create a *fait accompli* and then exploit it. But the Party had no intention of challenging China now and was forced to abandon its plans for Turkey, focusing its attention on Germany instead.

The traditional Russian diplomatic habit was described by the Chinese as "striking three times whether you have dates or not"—using intimidation to gain benefits.

He Rui was dead, but his successor, Li Runshi, was unshakeable. To every Soviet probe, the Chinese Foreign Ministry responded that since Turkey had never joined the Nazis, it was not an enemy nation. As a normal member of the UN, its legitimate territory was protected.

The Soviets knew well that the Ottoman Empire had lost vast lands in the Russo-Turkish wars. After World War I, the Empire had collapsed and modern Turkey was born. To reduce the number of surrounding enemies at the time, the USSR had signed border treaties with the new republic.

The Soviet government had not fallen, nor had the Turkish one. The USSR had no legal reason to demand territory, and China would never allow them to control Turkey.

"General Secretary," Molotov answered frankly, "China has stated they will not allow Turkey’s sovereignty to be violated."

Stalin was still unwilling to let it go. "What about the Turkish Communist Party? What is their attitude?"

Molotov smiled inwardly, though his expression remained solemn. "The Turkish Communist Party has announced that since the Third International has been dissolved, their goal is the maintenance of Turkish national interest."

Hearing that the Turkish Communists would not act as a vanguard for Moscow, Stalin felt a trace of regret. He turned his focus back to the siege of Berlin. "Comrade Molotov, do you believe China intends to strike at Berlin?"

Molotov was confident. While the He Rui government was ruthless, it never wasted resources on what was not essential. Taking Berlin was of immense importance to the USSR, but carried little meaning for China. Even if Germany were split in two, China had already won more than enough. They would not feel the need to "add flowers to the embroidery" at this point.

While the Li Runshi government had seen many personnel changes, Li himself had been a core member of the previous administration. Molotov had probed this as well and received word that if the USSR made a formal request, the WPLA would provide aid to the Red Army. Since the word came from Li Runshi himself, Molotov felt he could trust it.

"General Secretary, I do not believe China will contest Berlin. Our forces can proceed at full speed to prepare for the subsequent division of control."

Stalin, though still slightly unsatisfied, decided to follow Molotov’s advice. While the USSR had not gained everything it wanted, this was still an unprecedented victory for Russia. Compared to the past, when the "Gendarme of Europe" could enter Eastern Europe and Germany but could not stay, this was a triumph of historic proportions.

As long as they took Berlin and established a satellite state in eastern Germany, they could be satisfied. Ultimately, Stalin decided on a small piece of maneuvering: "Order Zhukov to advance as quickly as possible. But under no circumstances is he to trigger a conflict with the Chinese."