A massive army was marching with tremendous momentum down the road.
However, this imposing army was not the Allied forces but rather the captured troops of Hydra.
Allied soldiers, sitting in cars, armored vehicles, and tanks on both sides of the road, watched the disciplined Hydra troops march past. For a moment, they couldn't help but wonder who had actually lost the war.
"Look at these guys! Even after being defeated, they're still marching with pride!" General McGinnis, sitting in the front passenger seat of the jeep, turned back to speak to Josh, who was sitting in the rear.
In the U.S. military, sitting in the front passenger seat was usual and didn't imply any hierarchy, unlike in other formal settings.
Josh's group had flown in with General McGinnis to a battlefield airstrip outside Vienna. Under armed escort, they were on their way into the city when they encountered this group of about 100,000 Hydra prisoners being escorted by the Allies.
"Do the Allies have any plans for these prisoners?" Josh asked thoughtfully as he looked at the marching Hydra soldiers.
"Of course," McGinnis replied casually. "Under General Eisenhower's orders, these prisoners will first be screened by the newly established Austrian provisional government to identify the Austrians among them. The rest will be sent to the Rheinwiesenlager. Why? Are you interested in them?"
"Of course I'm interested. A disciplined and well-trained group would make an excellent factory workforce, wouldn't you agree?" Josh said with a faint smile.
"Hahahaha! That's classic capitalist talk—but I like it. If you really want them, I'll make a call. While you can't have all of them, getting half shouldn't be a problem. But we're talking about tens of thousands of people here—can you handle that? Don't cause any trouble!" General McGinnis asked, grinning.
To the U.S. military, it didn't matter much whether the prisoners were German soldiers or Hydra troops. Their fate was decided with a few words from senior generals.
Despite the fierce fighting, there wasn't much hatred toward the Germans—except from Jewish survivors—so the prisoners were seen more as a burden.
Before his time-travel, Josh had once read an article online that claimed the Rheinwiesenlager Camp built by the U.S. military held nearly five million prisoners and that 750,000 had died within three months. The article cited figures and appeared credible, so many believed it.
But where did this 750,000 figure come from?
It originated from a 1989 book by Canadian author James Bacque titled Other Losses: The Shocking Truth Behind the Mass Deaths of Disarmed German Soldiers Under Eisenhower's Command.
And who was James Bacque? Not a statistician or historian—just a Canadian novelist.
When the book was published, it caused a huge uproar in Western WWII historical circles. Historians quickly pointed out its flaws: Bacque had included released prisoners in the death toll, so the actual number of deaths was only in the tens of thousands.
War is war, but humanity often persists. Wealthy and connected Germans naturally found ways to ransom their family members. During the occupation, many capitalists needed cheap labor.
Thus, the hundreds of thousands of "missing" prisoners had simply been released through employment or ransom, similar to what Josh was about to do.
The Soviets had also been targets of exaggerated statistics. Rumors online claimed that the Soviets captured four million German prisoners, with two million dying in Siberia.
Almost half of those four million were troops from puppet nations. Most of them, after labor reform, were released or incorporated into their countries' forces to maintain peace.
The remaining two million German and Austrian prisoners were indeed held longer as laborers, and though many died, the number was far less than two million.
Slanderous exaggerations added the "released" numbers to the death toll to smear the Soviets.
Reliable German statistics revealed that of all prisoners who surrendered after the war, only 400,000-500,000 died from natural causes or conditions. Of those, 300,000+ died in Eastern Europe and 100,000+ in Western Europe, primarily in French, Belgiam, or Dutch custody—not under the Americans.
"Of course I can handle it," Josh said confidently. "It'll just take some time. But before that, General, I'll need you to lend me some manpower."
For most people, managing tens of thousands of prisoners without causing chaos would be nearly impossible. For Josh, however, it was no big deal.
All he needed to do was select influential mid-to-high-ranking officers among the prisoners and send them to Yuri for "training." After that, everything would be under control.
"The only problem left is the location for the camp. But I'm sure Miss Ophelia can solve that for me, right?" Josh turned to Ophelia beside him.
"Of course, Mr. Kahn. It's an honor as your ally," Ophelia replied with a smile.
McGinnis observed the two exchanging remarks and noticed the subtle shift in their relationship. However, he just shrugged it off. Young people, after all—it was perfectly normal.
And just like that, the fate of tens of thousands of prisoners was decided in a brief conversation between Josh and McGinnis.
As they continued speaking, their convoy slowly entered Vienna.
The moment Josh entered this City of Music, the sound of Beethoven's music filled his ears. No, it wasn't his imagination—seven or eight artists in line were playing music on the roadside.
"Where is the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts?" Josh suddenly asked Ophelia.
"Uh... it's in the city center," Ophelia replied, slightly puzzled as to why Josh was asking.
"What, Josh? Are you also interested in art?" McGinnis asked, amused.
"Oh, not really. I just think the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts probably deserves half the blame for this world war," Josh said with a smirk.
In the future, this joke would become an internet meme, but in this era, it had never been mentioned.
Hearing Josh's words, both Ophelia and McGinnis were baffled. Even the driver perked up his ears.
Smiling, Josh explained the origins of the joke.
General McGinnis burst into laughter.
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