Küchler ordered his troops to immediately withdraw from the area of Schlisselburg and Sinyavino. It was these divisions that eventually halted the further advance of the Second Shock Army, and the offensive of the Leningrad front troops ran out of steam all by itself, as the defenders of the besieged city were able to allocate too few forces and ammunition for this operation.
The Headquarters of the Supreme High Command planned to defeat Army Group North, but it failed. Nevertheless, the Red Army managed to break the siege. The withdrawal of the Germans from Schlisselburg and Sinyavino led to the formation of a 20-kilometer corridor along the shore of Lake Ladoga, which connected the city with the "big land". At this point the forces of the Volkhov front finally ran out, and General of the Army Zhukov ordered the troops to go on the defensive.
On the whole gigantic front from Lake Ladoga to the Black Sea there was an operational pause. Both the Red Army and the Wehrmacht had huge problems with literally everything. The troops needed rest and reinforcements. The industry could not cope with replenishing losses in equipment and supplying the troops with ammunition. As a result, only one significant event occurred at the end of January: the Germans completely stopped using chemical weapons. They never responded to the ultimatum, but I saw the remnants of the chemical shells and bombs being loaded into wagons and sent back to German territory.
Stalin took this news with great satisfaction. In general, lately he felt more and more confident in his own strength. The cunning Georgian showed himself to be an experienced politician in the ultimatum story as well. At one time I offered to tell the Germans that if they refused to use chemical warfare agents, we would not use thermite shells and fuel-air explosive munitions on the Eastern Front. However, as it turned out, Comrade Stalin thought it would be enough for us to give up only the thermite ammunition, and now I think he was very pleased with that decision. Despite the fact that I came here from a very different era and had a lot of high technology at my disposal, the Supreme Commander could clearly give a head start to me in political games.
As I suspected, the Corps was taken away from me. Zhukov was satisfied with my actions, and it seems he had already made some far-reaching plans for me, but the other members of the Headquarters of the Supreme High Command seemed to have their own ideas about the fate of Comrade Nagulin, and Georgy Konstantinovich was clearly in the minority.
I didn't want to wait until some unexpected ideas for applying my abilities came into the restless heads of Stalin, Beria, or Shaposhnikov. I had to retain the initiative, otherwise it's very easy to lose my way and go somewhere away from the intended goal. I should have thought very seriously about my future actions. The situation at the fronts stabilized, and the Soviet Union, seemed to be no longer threatened by military catastrophe. A simple and straightforward solution suggested itself, and at first glance it looked obvious.
With the new capabilities I had with an artificial intelligence named Letra, I could quickly provide the Soviet military industry with technology that would enable it to begin producing weapons far superior in its tactical and technical characteristics to all that other earthly nations had at their disposal. However, the question immediately arose: was it worth it? Do I want to end up with a world communist dictatorship led by Comrade Stalin and his loyal associates in the Party? I knew the answer to that question. I didn't. On the other hand, every day of the war cost the country enormous casualties, and I was not prepared to look dispassionately on the deaths of thousands – I was not yet so callous as to consider soldiers and civilians expendable.
What options are left then? Under the current circumstances, my career is almost exhausted. Yes, I was made a hero, known to the whole country, but this fame in itself does not give me much. A man can be a famous polar hero, a popular actor, a fighter pilot or a sniper whose combat score is known to every child, but he won't get any closer to power. Perhaps someday after the war he would be made a deputy – to do what? – to read aloud texts, agreed upon in advance and polished by his senior comrades in a huge conference hall, to become a stuffed shirt… So? Do I need this?
To really change things in this country, one has to become part of its ruling elite, and it is not customary to take outsiders into this closed caste, which is, in general, quite understandable.
Any dictatorship is always built on unconditional loyalty to the leader. This is what is valued in the first place, and only then the professional and personal qualities, organizational abilities and other talents of the applicant for a high public office are evaluated. The Soviet Union, of course, has its own peculiarities – it is very much imbued with Marxist-Leninist ideology, which in many ways replaced the recently lost religion to the citizens of the USSR, but the essence of the totalitarian state, quite recognizable, has not changed much.
Devotion and loyalty! Loyalty and devotion! And no one believes in my loyalty, that's obvious. In my usefulness, yes. But not in loyalty and certainly not in personal loyalty to Comrade Stalin.
Do I really need power over this country? What will I do with it? To conquer the world by force of arms and drag it violently toward a bright future, of which I myself have only a vague idea? Why go to war, though? After all, one can conquer the world economically. This way is harder and longer, but I have time. Stalin is undoubtedly a strong leader, but totalitarian regimes have a very serious flaw: the lack of a clear method of transferring power when the ruler passes away. As a rule, a wild fight for the main seat begins, and often it brings to the top such freaks, that then the whole country shudders in convulsions from their decisions and actions.
“Letra!”
“I'm on the line.”
“Can you prepare the USSR development forecast over the next ten years?”
“I do not know your plans to interfere in the development of Earth's civilization, and without this information, the forecast makes no sense.”
“Let's say I don't interfere at all.”
“Copy. It will take a few minutes. I have to adjust the base model to account for the changes resulting from your emergence on Earth. Basically, you haven't done anything that would make the estimation algorithm inapplicable, so you can count on the standard accuracy of the prediction.”
“Waiting.”
“In what form do you want the result? ”
“A brief voice report. Only key points and major branches without delving into unlikely derivations.”
I picked up the terminology from the real Letra. After meeting her, I was surprised to discover my interest in historical modeling, and we often discussed the development of different human civilizations, trying to find ways to delay their demise.
“Done. May I begin?”
“Go ahead.”
“The first key point is the end of 1942. The dominant branch is the death of Adolf Hitler in an assassination attempt. The consequence is an attempt by the new German government to make peace with England. The expected result is success. In this case, the war of Germany against the Soviet Union will be continued. Background events – the turning point in the war with Japan in favor of the United States and England. The explosive growth of the United States military industry. Death of U.S. President Franklin Roosevelt in an assassination attempt.
The second key point is 1943. The dominant branch is the complete liberation of Soviet territory by the Red Army and the beginning of its march into Europe. The consequences – the entry into the war of England and the United States on the side of Germany. The expected result is the military defeat of the USSR in 1944. The third key point…”
“That's enough. Everything else is clear enough. Are there any alternative scenarios?”
“Of
