Chapter Twelve: All Roads Lead to Rome (December 1st, 1938 to June 5th, 1939)
The End of the Third Balkan War
As December wore, on, the tide of the war in the Balkans continued to turn in Yugoslavia’s favor. A bold advance nearly reached Edirne and the Turkish frontier by December 11th, and left another Bulgarian division cut off from supplies and reinforcements. As recently as a few months before the outbreak of the Yugoslav-Bulgarian war, Ankara had been open to the idea of admitting Bulgaria to the Balkan Pact which had been formed against her, and so Tsar Boris had attempted to seek aid from the Turks in the darkest hour of his rein. The Turkish government was willing to provide refuge for Bulgarian civilians and notables and to warn Belgrade not to cross the border into European Turkey, but unwilling to enter the war to save the tottering Bulgarian government, and so the war continued to turn against Boris and his clique of supporters.
The recapture of Plovdiv from the advancing Yugoslavs was a bright spot in the otherwise tragic Bulgarian war effort. Now two divisions of the Royal Yugoslav Army were the ones who were cut off, victims of the ambitious plans of the Yugoslav government and generals who were pushing for a speedy conclusion to the war before outside powers might intervene. The elated generals on the other side of the conflict convinced Tsar Boris to relocate the capital again, or at least its military functions, to Plovdiv in order to keep a closer eye on the war and to demonstrate to the dejected populace that the country was still in the fight.
The temporary Bulgarian capital, as well as Varna where the tsar and his civilian government were still holed up, was soon cut off from the rest of the country by a small number of highly motivated divisions. Prince Paul and others in Belgrade hoped that a quick capture of those two cities would mean the collapse of Bulgarian resistance. The sooner that Yugoslav troops could be transported to the border with Germany, the better. But as the Croat and Slovene soldiers of the Royal Yugoslav Army celebrated their Christmas Eve, the Bulgarians had refused to surrender the last cities under Boris’s flag and were still hoping for relief from an outside force.
The Third Balkan War had provided a sideshow to the main conflict roiling Europe, but its end brought new attention to Yugoslavia and the rest of the region from the powers fighting elsewhere on the continent.
But no assistance, mortal or divine, was forthcoming, and a provisional government of Bulgaria formed by Zveno-affiliated officers surrendered to the invading Yugoslav forces with the capture of Plovdiv and the generals who had been headquartered there. Tsar Boris had managed to slip out of the country aboard a royal yacht along with some of his advisers and received refuge in Turkey. The Yugoslavs could do little to stop his flight, possessing no capabilities on the Black Sea, and there was little incentive to pick a fight with Ankara over the issue of a deposed monarch, not when the country was threatened with destruction by the Germans.
The dream of a “Greater Yugoslavia” was achieved at the expense of an independent Bulgaria. The process of integrating the new territories into Yugoslavia was complicated by war and memories of the Bulgaria which had existed before its incorporation.
The annexation of Bulgaria was hailed by Yugoslavist ideologues and the textbooks which they helped write as the fulfillment of the great mission. With the removal of Boris and his government, there was no competitor to the claim of the mantle of South Slav leadership, and the Bulgarians and Macedonians who had once paid fealty to him were now in one state which they shared with their brother Slavs. The end of the war with Bulgaria was marked with more celebrations than the end of the Yugoslav Civil War had been, although the enthusiasm of the populace was still muted with the threat of another war over the horizon.
The integration of Bulgaria was pursued haphazardly at first, with the Macedonian areas of the west coming to terms with the new status quo and the expanded rights offered to them by Belgrade while most of the ethnic Bulgarians elsewhere in the annexed territories resented the loss of their country and feared the fate which their new masters would visit upon them. Efforts to build legitimacy through local partners s had been done in Macedonia through cooperative elements of the IMRO were complicated by a bloody dispute between the Zveno organization which Paul and his advisors had been counting on for support in the newly liberated territories. While the Zveno had been in favor of an alliance with Yugoslavia during their brief governance, the Yugoslavist stance of the group was not uniform following the annexation of Bulgaria. The so-called “Big Zveno” quickly accepted Bulgaria’s new status as part of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia and willingly offered their services and expertise to their new countrymen. The “Little Zveno”, by contrast, had hoped that the Yugoslav invasion would mean the establishment of a new Zveno-led government with a degree of independence, not outright annexation. The right-wing government in Belgrade and Yugoslavia’s mercurial ties with Germany had disillusioned many of the men who had been idealistic Yugoslavists in 1934, and the conflict between the two wings of Zveno turned violent as Bulgaria’s new rulers struggled to keep the peace.
An Uneasy Neutrality
In response to Belgrade’s defiance, Berlin’s demands for the territorial reorganization of Yugoslavia meant the effective end of the country and the dream of a unified South Slav nation.
After weeks of preparation and veiled threats, the German government finally issued its ultimatum to Belgrade. The kingdom would be dissolved, with the Croatian subjects of Yugoslavia receiving their own state under “the guidance and protection of the
Reich” and Slovenia annexed to Germany proper on the basis of its not insignificant German minority and its historic status as part of Austria. The Serb and Macedonian portions of Yugoslavia, as well as the recently conquered Bulgarians, would be reorganized as a protectorate with a degree of autonomy but subject to the authority of a German representative, or “Reich Protector.
It was an arrogant, heavy-handed ultimatum, much worse than the Austrian demands which Serbia had rejected before the Great War, and just as with that conflict, the Germans were threatening war should any of their demands not be met. Yugoslavia’s ability to survive a war with the full might of the German army and its Hungarian allies for more than a couple of weeks seemed doubtful, but Berlin was currently at war with much larger countries as well. Rejecting the ultimatum was the only answer, and it was hoped that the time needed for Germany to assemble the forces needed for an invasion of Yugoslavia would be enough to discover a way out of this predicament.
The German document had been delivered to Belgrade privately, and Prince Paul and Milan Nedić refused it through private channels as well, but leaks from the prime minister’s office, whether intentional or not, transmitted the information outside of the country’s leadership, and from there it spread to the common people. The broad sentiment was in favor of Radical Union government, as even members of the liberal opposition gave speeches and penned editorials that, while still critical of aspects of the current government, urged Yugoslavs to stand united against German threats. Most significantly, the analysts who had developed demands and argumentations for the German ultimatum had been working from faulty resources as the offer of a supervised Croatian state failed to elicit much public excitement from the kingdom’s Croat population. Indeed, students at the University of Zagreb organized a demonstration in support of the king and the government’s stance against Germany, with one of the homemade banners proclaiming, “We will fight for you, Yugoslavia!” It was an astonishing sea change in attitude from what the region had witnessed and struggled with only very recently.
The first new divisions raised to defend Yugoslavia against Axis threats were commanded by General Josef Depre, one of the many beneficiaries of the mass defection of Yugoslav officers during the civil war.
The popular outpouring of support for the Yugoslav government did little to slow German preparations for war. Plans for an invasion of Yugoslavia were much more stymied by the lack of
Wehrmacht divisions available to commit to the attack, however. To deter an attack for as long as possible, policing duties in Bulgaria were handed over to civilian forces and all divisions of the Royal Yugoslav Army were rushed to Slovenia in order to deter a German attack. Their ranks were bolstered by six new divisions drawn from the inaugural class of the system of conscription which the National Assembly had implemented. Some of their members were siblings or former classmates of the students who had rallied in Zagreb, and their enthusiasm was unmatched.
Still, in contrast to their compatriots who had crushed the much-larger Bulgarian army, these new divisions had received the barest minimum of training before being fielded. It was believed, or rather hoped, that Berlin would be too preoccupied with the rest of Europe to look too closely at the green recruits who made up the bulk of Yugoslavia’s new divisions. As their experienced compatriots arrived from Bulgaria, the fresh divisions were shifted to the Hungarian border. As successful as the Hungarian Army had been in Slovakia, its reputation was still nothing compared to that of German soldiery.
With Berlin threatening both Yugoslavia and Romania with war, the potential frontline in the Balkans stretched from Istria to the northern reaches of Transylvania.
By the start of February 1939, German divisions had begun to appear on the German and Hungarian borders with Yugoslavia. The first bricks of the coming build-up appeared anodyne enough. The German soldiers on the frontier at first appeared to be doing nothing more dangerous than participating in exercises and manning border fortifications, but as their numbers swelled in the coming weeks, the German divisions began committing small violations of the Yugoslav border and expanding those fortifications into armed camps directed against Slovenia and northern Croatia.
Lingering mistrust between the French and Yugoslav governments over the reversals and intrigues which had characterized the pre-war period dampened enthusiasm for cooperation against the German threat.
Belgrade’s break with Berlin had soon become public, and this raised hopes in Paris and London that the Yugoslavs could be brought onboard the anti-German coalition. The British were still on the outs with Prince Paul and the Yugoslav government, but the French were happy to extend an offer to renew the alliance with Yugoslavia. With the collapse of Czechoslovakia and the German divisions assembling on the kingdom’s borders, such an offer of military alliance appeared to so many Yugoslavs as a poisoned chalice. The stilted invasion of the Rhineland and the accompanying failure of France to support the Czechs inspired fears that Yugoslavia would be sacrificed in order to serve as a shield to protect France for a while longer from the war they had willingly sought.
Nonetheless, the French ambassador was not turned away outright. Instead, the overtures from France became bogged down in matters or protocol and the details of a potential military convention. While the delaying tactics frustrated Paris, the possibility of opening another front against the Axis was too tempting for the Pétain government to abandon the efforts. For Belgrade, it was enough to keep the French option available without yet committing to it outright. The German declaration of war could come any day, and in that event an alliance with France, and, to a lesser extent, Britain, would become an established fact no matter how many meetings and audiences had or hadn’t taken place.
The failure of the military coup against Prince Paul did little to dampen the enthusiasm for Balkan machinations among Winston Churchill and his accomplices.
While the French were desperate enough to engage in the latest bout of Yugoslav chicanery which had become the norm under Milan Stojadinović’s government, the British were not as accommodating. Even while the kingdom was in the midst of the war with Bulgaria, the British ambassador had paid an unannounced visit to the Foreign Ministry and demanded an explanation for why Yugoslavia was continuing to trade with Germany. Arguments of economics and security fell on deaf ears, as the British representative made it clear that his government did not want excuses, or even a more balanced trade policy between the Axis and the Allied powers. Instead, the ambassador demanded that Yugoslavia cease trading with Germany or else face the consequences of her actions. The threats rankled the kingdom’s leadership, especially Prince Paul. The kidnapping of the Yugoslav royal family by British agents was still fresh in his memory, and the implication of further British intrigues in his country soured Paul’s opinion of his once-beloved England even more.
When the British pressure campaign was brought up in a meeting between the French ambassador to Yugoslavia and the kingdom’s foreign minister, Ivo Andrić, Paris intervened on behalf of Belgrade in order to convince the British to moderate their demands lest Yugoslavia join the Axis powers out of protest. A begrudging compromise was found when the Yugoslavs offered to allow British ships safe harbor in the kingdom’s Adriatic ports and the transit of troops to reinforce Romania should the Germans declare war against King Carol’s government, but the wounds cut deeply. The ugliness highlighted the division between the British and French strategies for the war against Germany, based upon each country’s proximity the fighting was widening the gulf between the two western powers.
The Tempest of War
While the nationalist governments of France and Germany fought, the Communists completed their takeover of Spain.
A million Spaniards and foreign fighters had fallen or been captured in the war for Spain’s soul, a conflict which seemed set to continue intermittently though one side had decisively won. The Spanish Republicans, anti-clerical and nominally democratic, had faced the trials of the war against the Nationalists and emerged on the other side much harder and brutal in their practice of power. Gone were the parliamentary façade to the campaigns against the Catholic Church in Spain; the government in Madrid had learned to simply take church land, to arrest priests, and to break the seal of confession by force. Gone too were the public debates and elections over the direction of the country; the Republicans had learned to tolerate no dissent not even from supposed allies such as the Spanish anarchists or regional separatists. In order to triumph over a brutal foe, the Republicans had resolved to become more brutal than Francisco Franco’s collection of reactionaries, generals, and fascists, and in that they had succeeded.
The specter of a new Communist-ruled country, long-unseen outside of the Soviet Union should have attracted more attention, especially in France where the question of Communism in Iberia had helped bring the current government to power. Instead, the rest of Europe was preoccupied with the war and the new Spanish regime was left to its own devices. Aside from Moscow, it had no friends in Europe and many enemies, but the Republicans had found themselves in this position before and, after a long, bloody struggle, they had triumphed.
The Franco-Russian Entente had failed to match the German Empire during the Great War, but desperation caused Paris to seek an alliance with the Bolsheviks.
Despite public shows of bravado by the military government in Paris, renewed conflict with Germany was a terrifying thought to French of every social class. In the last war, it had taken the combined efforts of France, Britain, and the Russian Empire to halt the initial German advance and even then the dreaded Huns had almost reached Paris. Now, London and Paris were once again united against the Teutonic threat, but instead of Russia, their great eastern ally was little Czechoslovakia. Such a combination seemed to portend doom in the minds of the French leadership and so the unthinkable became not just plausible but desirable: an alliance with the Soviet Union.
Since the end of the Great War, French war plans had counted on allies to Germany’s east providing a second front which would divide German forces and ease the pressure on France and her war-weary populace. One of the chief debates, especially in the heady days following the Armistice when possibilities in Europe seemed endless, was whether to support a coalition of smaller states or seek rapprochement with the Bolshevik government in Moscow in hopes that they would soon evolve or be replaced by a “normal” Russian government. The former policy had initially won out, but not without infrequent shifts to the latter one. When Maxim Litvinov was the Soviet’s foreign minister, a renewed Franco-Russian entente seemed within reach, only to flounder on the refusal of Poland and Romania would allow troops from the Soviet Union to transverse their territory in order to aid Czechoslovakia.
Now, with both countries struggling mightily against the same foes that they had fought earlier in the century, the new Soviet foreign minister, Vyacheslav Molotov, received a French envoy seeking to formalize a Franco-Soviet pact which would commit each country to the defense of the other’s territorial integrity. It was a bold move by the anti-Communist French government, especially in light of their regime’s origin and the Republican victory in the Spanish Civil War. It was one that showed France’s desperation for allies against Germany, but it was nonetheless rejected. Preventing the loss of Siberia and its Pacific ports to the Japanese was the first order of the day in Moscow, and the question of troop transit through Poland and Romania had still not been resolved. Short of shipping troops through the deadly waters of the North Sea to take up positions in France, there was little that the Soviet Union could offer France and, more importantly to Joseph Stalin and his fellow Bolsheviks, even less that France could offer the Soviets. French Indochina and other holdings in the Pacific were already woefully underprepared for war. All French involvement in the war with Japan would likely accomplish would be the addition of new fronts for the Soviets and their allies to manage through unchallenged Japanese invasions of Vietnam and the French concessions in China.
With characteristic bluntness, Molotov told his French suitor that the one thing that might have enticed Moscow into considering the treaty and war with Germany was the removal of Poland as a buffer state keeping the Soviet Union from Germany, and the rest of Europe. The situation was not yet so dire that Paris was willing to condone a war against Poland, not when Warsaw was still a potential ally. As such, the Franco-Soviet Treaty was stillborn, and it was soon overtaken by more pressing developments.
Polish victory in the Polish-Soviet War of 1918 to 1921 had expanded the country’s borders and its leaders’ egos. It was believed that Poland was strong enough to shape her own destiny and defend herself from her hostile, but embattled, neighbors.
With her two most powerful neighbors engaged in brutal wars and potential patrons otherwise engaged, Poland embarked on an ambitious mission of forging an alliance of neutral states in Eastern Europe which would be strong enough to withstand German or Soviet pressure. It was a bold project and one that attracted attention in Bucharest and Belgrade, as well as in the Baltic states to Poland’s north, but Józef Beck and his team of diplomats were unable to ask the uncomfortable question of how the alliance would fare in the event that the Germans or the Soviets won their wars elsewhere and then turned their attention against Poland and her allies. As Prince Paul bitterly reflected in his diary, the only options for the middle powers of Europe seemed to be either siding with the Germans or to helping to put them down.
The slow pace of the war in the west frustrated Adolf Hitler and his generals who were hoping for quick decisive victories, and so their attention turned to Czechoslovakia and the impressive gains which the Axis were making in that theater. The failure to break through the mighty Maginot Line was understandable in light of the years of work which had gone into its construction and the training of the soldiers manning it but the inability of the
Wehrmacht to crush the tiny country of Luxembourg was a grave blow to the prestige of the German armed forces. Even more humiliating, territory had been lost to a joint French-Luxembourgish advance into the Rhineland. The expansion of the war with the German attack on Luxembourg had not only brought in the British empire on the side of France and Czechoslovakia, but it had not even succeeded in its aim of flanking the Maginot Line.
The Lithuanian alliance with Britain against Germany gave the Allies new bases with which to contest the Baltic Sea.
Undeterred by past failures at diplomacy, Berlin attempted to secure the return of the Memel region which had been taken by Lithuania from the dejected Germans in 1923. While the Czech, Luxembourgish, and Romanian governments had significant international backing, it was felt that the small Baltic country would fold in the face of German pressure. Once more, German calculations had been wrong and Lithuania steadfastly refused the German demands and tendered membership in the British-led alliance when Berlin declared war.
Mussolini’s Price
"War alone brings up to its highest tension all human energy and puts the stamp of nobility upon the people who have the courage to meet it. All other trials are substitutes, which never really put a man in front of himself in the alternative of life and death." – Benito Mussolini
As the fighting in Europe expanded, Italy found herself in a similar position to the one that she had enjoyed at the start of the last Great War. For Mussolini, neutrality was not an option and both the German and the Anglo-French Alliances were eager to win Mussolini for their cause. The opening of a new front in the French Alps or in Austria could bring victory to whichever side of the war which the Italian dictator chose to join. Unfortunately for Rome’s suitors, Mussolini was well aware of this fact and he drove a high price for his support, encouraging diplomats from the warring powers to compete in offering Italy concessions in return for her entering the war on their behalf.
The supplanting of Italy by Germany as the continent’s preeminent nationalistic regime still rankled Mussolini’s pride. He had long toyed with the idea of an alliance with Germany in order to confront the British and the French, but the rapid rise of the Nationalist Socialists under Adolf Hitler had given the
Duce pause. Berlin seemed uninterested in serving as a junior partner in an Italian-led coalition, and the annexation of Austria and alliance with Hungary had meant the loss of two would-be Italian client states to German control. The question of South Tyrol, with its German population, weighed heavily on the Italian government. Adolf Hitler had renounced claims to the region in his book
Mein Kampf, but the situation had changed dramatically since the German
Führer had been merely an imprisoned rabble-rouser. With Germany at war with Czechoslovakia, France, Britain and now Lithuania over similar claims of ethnic kinship, no one was quite sure if Berlin’s designs wouldn’t someday extend to Italian-controlled territory as well.
The replacement of the French Republic with a French State modeled, at least in part, by Mussolini’s Fascist Party removed an ideological barrier to siding with the French. The British were even willing to hold their noses and work with the other continental nationalists in order to defeat Germany, although anything more than an alliance of convenience was out of the question. In hopes of winning Italian entry into the war against Germany, the French and British ambassadors offered Mussolini a free hand in the occupation and reforming of the Austrian and Hungarian lands should the anti-German alliance prove victorious. Further appeals included the possibility of border adjustments favoring Italian holdings in East Africa and a certain percentage of Italian influence in various Mediterranean countries.
Paris and London were limited in what they could offer by the smaller size of the pie which was to be carved up should they prove victorious, but Berlin was much less restrained. The destruction of the French and the British Empires offered much grander prizes for an ambitious country like Italy, more than enough to share, the German ambassador, Hans Georg von Mackensen, assured Count Ciano and Mussolini. Long-standing Italian designs on Tunisia, Corsica, and the French Alps could be awarded immediately following the victory of the Axis alliance over its foes, with further colonial possessions in Africa, the Middle East, and beyond available for spoils. In addition, should Italy prove hesitant, German plans for Yugoslavia made it clear that Berlin felt no compunctions about reordering the Balkans without offering compensation to Rome in this Italian area of interest. Thus, despite the best efforts of the western powers and the distrust the Italian government felt towards the ascendant Germans, a deal was struck between Rome and Berlin. Italy was now the third member of the Axis alliance.
The entrance of Italy into the war on the German side dismayed the French and British, but Yugoslavia seemed to be the country most threatened by the alliance.
The entry of Italy into the war marked a further escalation of the already explosive conflict. British and French fleets scrambled to win the Mediterranean from the forces of the
Regia Marina, and French divisions were sent southward in anticipation of an Italian attack across the mountain range bordering the two countries. With Italy’s entry, Africa now became a battlefield as well and forces needed to be redeployed to meet the threat of Italian colonial forces stationed in Libya and Ethiopia.
Italy’s alliance with Germany gave the Axis alliance a longer frontline and additional troops to bring to bear against the recalcitrant Yugoslavs as well. The bulk of Italian divisions were sent to fight the British and the French, but a worrying number of them appeared in Istria and the coastal enclave of Zara to support the German build-up in the region. It seemed that time was running out for Yugoslavia’s neutrality.
Despite Italy reinforcing the alliance, Germany still suffered the loss of East Prussia to a joint Lithuanian and English task force. The territory was placed under Lithuanian control and the occupation by the authoritarian government of Antanas Smetona made little secret of its ambitions for annexing some degree of the German land should their side prove victorious. The loss was frustrating for the National Socialist government in Berlin, as the war had thus far resulted in more Germans living under foreign domination, not less, but spirits were buoyed by the fact that territory in that region had been lost to the Russians during the Great War as a temporary setback on the road to the great victories of the Eastern Front. Nonetheless, additional resources were devoted to the
Kriegsmarine to build enough ships to contest the Baltic Sea and win control back from the upstarts in Kaunas.
The Hungarian conquest of Slovakia had cut off the Czech heartlands of Bohemia and Moravia from the non-Axis world, and meant that only a few men escaped the country to form a Czech government-in-exile in London.
What setbacks the Axis suffered in the north were soon overcome by the collapse of the Czech government following the surrender of Prague and Brno. The invasion of Slovakia by way of Hungary had proven a massive success and led to some in Budapest to call for the Czech portions of Bohemia and Moravia to be occupied by Hungary for the remainder of the war, but the idea was quickly shot down by Miklós Horthy in order to preserve good relations with Berlin. The Czech surrender was still a vital step forward for the Axis powers as it freed up a large number of divisions to turn back the French advance into the Rhineland, and also to man the borders with Yugoslavia in anticipation of another expansion of the war.
The long-awaited French advance into Germany faced stiffened resistance from the influx of divisions coming from the east. Meanwhile, the Italians faced hardly any opposition in their invasion of France and had soon crossed the Alps.
A Deal with the Devil
As with South Tyrol, Zara had been an issue of the utmost importance for nationalists during the 1920’s, but also one whose importance had been eclipsed by grander designs.
The fall of Czechoslovakia to German and Hungarian arms reinforced Berlin’s leadership of the Axis alliance despite the launching of more and more wars against new countries, but schemes were already being hatched in Rome to subvert the pact’s current hierarchy. The key, Count Ciano believed, would be expanding the alliance so as to diffuse German influence and preclude further German adventurism in Europe. To that end, he proposed, with Mussolini’s acquiescence, a new Italo-Yugoslav Friendship Treaty to replace the bare bones agreement of 1936. Italian membership in the Axis had heightened the danger of Hitler’s threats against Yugoslavia, and it was believed that Belgrade could be enticed into joining the alliance through the concession of Zara, an Italian enclave on the Dalmatian coast.
The prospect of giving up Italian territory was not an appealing one to Mussolini, especially after he had railed for so long against the “mutilated victory” which had deprived Italy of the Dalmatia coast which she had coveted as a prize for participating in the World War. Ciano and a select few others argued that, given Italian predominance in Albania and future acquisitions from France and Britain, Zara was an unnecessary irritant in the relations between two impressive Fascist kingdoms, both of which had reasons for working together to limit German hegemony over Europe. Italy could still be master of the Mediterranean, it was argued, and the Straits of Otranto, the gateway to the Adriatic, would still be in Rome’s hands. The strategy required not only concessions on the Italians’ part, but also from the Yugoslavs. Mussolini and his government had been involved in the joint Ustaše-IMRO assassination of King Alexander in Paris, and Italian support for terrorists and separatists in Yugoslavia and designs on the Dalmatian coast had been no secret. Joining the Axis alliance, and implicitly supporting its war against France, would mean disregarding the last words of the slain king. These were somber considerations, but so was the mounting number of German and now Italian and Hungarian troops massing on Yugoslavia’s borders. Questions of honor battled with those of the kingdom’s survival.
The mobilization of the Yugoslav economy for war was undertaken at a breakneck pace which produced impressive results but also numerous issues as inexperienced men learned to soldier or serve in factories.
The threat of war from Germany hung over the country like a guillotine’s blade and prevented the country from demobilizing after the Treaty of Varna. Instead, with the new conscription regime enacted by the National Assembly beginning to bear fruit, the Royal Yugoslav Army grew by leaps and bounds from its nadir of nine divisions to an impressive twenty-eight infantry divisions in a few short months. This rapid expansion was driven by the stockpiles of equipment built up and the aforementioned need to deter any German attack on the country by projecting as much strength as possible.
On the economic front, the rationalization of the Yugoslav continued. Although the kingdom’s economy had always possessed a significant degree of state interference, the influence of Italian and German thinking caused Belgrade to move closer to the corporate model espoused by those countries and further away from the free-market economics which London and Paris practiced. Although workers’ wages rose with the heightened demands for labor, the ability to strike was severely curtailed in order to prevent disruption in a time of national crisis. As long as things continued to go well, it was believed that Yugoslavia’s workers would remain loyal.
While Germany was unhappy that her bluster had not suitably cowed the Yugoslavs, the kingdom’s membership in the Axis meant a continuing flow of valuable mineral resources and foodstuffs necessary for the war effort.
For weeks, the Italians and the Yugoslavs had hammered out an agreement which was much more ambitious in scope than that signed only a few years previously. The economic clauses of the previous treaty were updated to reflect Yugoslavia’s new territories and industrial capabilities, with the two countries operating on a more equal basis, although the treaty still was tilted in Italy’s favor. Military and diplomatic considerations took up the bulk of the new Friendship Treaty, with Rome and Belgrade agreeing not to join in any military alliance directed against the other country and to consult on all Central and Southern European issues. Italy renounced all claims on the Dalmatian coast in exchange for Yugoslavia doing the same for Istria, although the treaty included clauses providing for minority rights for Italians in Yugoslavia and Yugoslavs in Italy. Lastly, the treaty included secret provisions delineating the two kingdoms’ interests in Greece and arrangements for joint military action in the region.
Notably, although the alliance paved the way for Yugoslavia to join the Axis, there was no requirement for Belgrade to join in Rome’s war with France and Britain. Mussolini was content to keep Yugoslavia friendly but uninvolved, so long as the war continued to go in his favor.
At Mussolini’s urging, Berlin renewed its offer of alliance to Belgrade and this time Prince Paul’s government accepted. The move was met with grumbling in some quarters of the National Assembly, but the highest political and military officials had been briefed by Milan Nedić and understood just how grave a position Yugoslavia had found herself in. Italian intervention had helped shield the country from war with Berlin for the moment, but the question was what price would have to be paid for this assistance.
The Italian advance into France was the cruel harvest of the vacillating military and diplomatic policy the country had practiced before the outbreak of the war as France faced the invasion without any developed plans for this contingency or any allies who might threaten Italy and thereby deter the invasion.
The small amounts of progress which the Allies’ continental forces had made advancing into the Rhineland came rapidly undone as battle-hardened German and Hungarian divisions reinforced the already substantial Axis build-up in the area and the need to contain the Italian to the south weakened the forces assigned to the French attack. The people and the lands of the Franco-German borderlands had seen more than their fair share of war during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, but the natural barrier of the Alps and peace between France and Italy had preserved peace for the beautiful south of France for a long time. The success of the Italians at penetrating into France surprised all, especially the Italian generals who had expected a stronger initial resistance. After all, their forces had succeeded at not only threatening the region of France which boasted the strongest support for the Pétain government but also capturing the ports which provided vital lifelines between
la Métropole and French North Africa. As Italian troops neared the Spanish border, Mussolini and his circle of advisers began to hazard ideas of what would follow a victorious war. Such flights of fancy remained so much fantasy for the time being, but the feeling was already forming that Italian and German designs for Europe would not be wholly in-sync.
Owing to the greater British presence in the fighting on the Dark Continent, the African front attracted much more attention in the Anglo-Saxon world and stories of daring actions and brave soldiers fighting in North Africa and Ethiopia peppered American newspapers with far more regularity than stories concerning the defense of France against invasion.
After the conquest of East Prussia, the brightest spot in the Allied war effort was in Africa. There, the Italian presence in Libya had been almost completely removed and French and British gains in eastern Africa had almost bisected the Italian colonies in the region, despite the fierce fighting by the Italians and their Askari troops. Troops which had been freed up from the now-safe Yugoslav border were to be sent to turn the tide in Libya, but there was no port under Italian control in the region and so they were instead diverted to assist with efforts in southern France. Control of the Suez Canal and Gibraltar prevented any link-up between the Axis fleets of the
Regia Marina and the
Kriegsmarine and helped the Allies win the war at sea even while the situation on land grew more and more dire.
The War in Asia
The jewel of the Far East had fallen to the Japanese during the Russo-Japanese War as well, but that conflict over railways and spheres of influence had not been the life-or-death struggle that the Soviet Union and the Japanese Empire now found themselves in.
In the Far East, the Japanese could point to the capture of the major Soviet port city of Vladivostok as a sign of the successful campaign against the Sino-Soviet alliance, with the capture of the Mongolian capital of Ulaanbaatar also on the horizon. The victories in Siberia and Mongolia had been achieved due to the superior organization and command of the Japanese forces compared to their Soviet opponents, but Communist reinforcements continued to flow into Siberia from the west and the long-term prognosis for the Japanese hold on the Eurasian continent was still uncertain.
Compared to the war in Europe, the war in Asia was seen by most Westerners as a sideshow fought by two inscrutable Oriental powers, and, like the Spanish Civil War, neither side seemed palatable to democratic sensibilities.
Gains in Siberia and Mongolia had been achieved at the cost of scaling back the men and material assigned to the Chinese front, with the result that the territory ceded after the skirmish at the Marco Polo Bridge began to fall to Chinese control. However, Chiang still did not command the loyalty of all of his governors. The warlords of the Guangxi, Ma, Shanxi, and Yunan were wary of partnering with Chiang Kai-shek after his concessions to Japan had failed to forestall war for a longer period of time. Chiang’s alliance with Mao Zedong to defend China against the Japanese had seemed promising, but their inclusion of the Soviet Union into the coalition against the invaders sparked worries that a Communist regime would be enforced upon China by Moscow and its new dependents. Even Sheng Shicai, the Soviet-aligned governor of the Sinkiang province of China had thus far stayed neutral in the conflict. The Japanese invasion had thus far not touched the holdings of these skeptical warlords, and they were content to wait for the time being and see what the fortune of wars would bring to China.
Notwithstanding the neutrality of some segments of China, Japan still had found herself in a war with the two most populous countries in the world, and the empire’s holdings in Asia could be ground to dust between the two giants if nothing decisive was done to bring the war to a speedy end.