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If you become complacent, the guest from another world is far more complex than the parts of a machine; you can never guess what he will put in front of you next.
"Hmm, they have artillery capable of accurately striking targets over a hundred kilometers away, and hadronic weapons capable of wiping out bomber squadrons in one fell swoop. Now they're telling me they can lift warships into the sky and fly them?" Ike felt like some punk novel he'd read before had been mixed into this telegram. "Anti-aircraft fire can only be blocked by an indestructible green glass barrier, and fighter jets can't break through these protective barriers. Oh God, the Russians are having a really tough time in Germany."
"So how should we answer him?"
"It's clear we'll be saying goodbye to them in Potsdam soon... Order the 1st and 9th Infantry Divisions and the 3rd Panzer Division to immediately begin a full withdrawal west of the Elbe River. Operation Reef is temporarily suspended due to unforeseen circumstances. Maintain contact with the Soviet forces during the withdrawal and cover the flanks of your allies. Also, order all air squadrons stationed in Europe to reduce their rest time..."
……
Just as the two were about to end their conversation with a sigh, the guard brought news that Field Marshal Montgomery had made an unexpected visit.
“I knew about these troubles all along.” The marshal’s expression was equally grim. “Don’t be discouraged, gentlemen. At least the current situation won’t disrupt your daily cup of black tea habit.”
“We all understand that your gentlemen are not good at racing Sherman tanks, but… the Union Jack seems to be more than just a few towns away from Potsdam?”
“Just tell your lads,” the Marshal smiled slightly, “that they can retreat with peace of mind. The gentlemen of the British Empire will protect their footprints along the way. Until then, those giant dolls will not be able to become proper scent hounds. Also, I’m here to ask for something.”
It turns out that among this pile of intelligence from the Soviet army, there was also a document about correcting the approximate location of the enemy's ultra-long-range artillery.
"What is the purpose?" Ike asked, somewhat puzzled. "We are not so confident, sir. You should know how unsafe the skies over Berlin are."
“What we’re writing is dangerous, but so what?” Montgomery gently stroked his smiling mustache with his fingertip. “Do you know why the Royal Air Force insisted on bombing Berlin in that dark autumn of 1940?”
Chapter 236, Section 311: Punishing the Sea King
After that sun set, the skies over Germany never cleared again.
"Lie down, comrades! Lie down!"
Several nights later, the flames of war, sown from Berlin, swept southward, making the hammer and sickle flag, already riddled with bullet holes and mud, even more ineffective. Lemilia and his comrades held their ground in a grove of trees, in this crumbling position. The starry sky above was adorned with the navigation lights of these outsiders. Death did not fall from the sky, but rather came relentlessly from the open field beyond the woods, crashing down on them.
"This is our last shell!" With only one field gun left and these brave heroes, they held out here for two days. The enemy's offensive became increasingly frenzied. Dried blood and charred electronic components had long since become like weeds on the ground. Without support and without their neighbors, all that was left for them was a desperate retreat with a slim chance of survival.
The last target fell; the KMF that had flanked the battlefield was fortunate enough to be stopped by artillery fire.
"According to the regimental commander's orders, we can leave in half an hour. Comrades, let's hope the enemy also feels tired."
The gun barrels in front of us have been driven away, and all that remains is the distant, continuous artillery fire surrounding the battlefield. Comrades can use this time to count the new casualties, sort out the remaining ammunition, and of course, deal with the "support" tanks.
The tank units that had fought alongside them were long gone, leaving behind only a few bonfires and smoke signals, their glow mingling with the flickering sparks of electricity in the distance. Since they could neither fire nor move, the tanks wedged in the trenches could serve as cover, the clothing hanging on the tanks could be used to bandage wounds, and even the scattered track fragments could be placed against the machine gunners' chests for protection. As for the comrades who had fallen inside the tanks, they could only be given a simple tombstone with a sense of shame.
Such bunkers and tombstones are becoming increasingly common in the southern part of Berlin. Lemeria and his men had abandoned many positions in the north and traveled for a long time before finally arriving here to catch their breath.
"Is your leg any better, Anton?" Lemilia returned to the depths of the position and comforted the captain who had been wounded earlier. "Now even the Germans' homeland is treating us badly."
That's right, Anton didn't suffer a battle wound. Unfortunately, he tripped and fell on the way back from the front lines, injuring his ligaments on a tree branch.
“Well…” the captain muttered, placing the diary next to the oil lamp. Lemilia’s eyes reflected the lines of text swaying in the firelight and gentle breeze.
……
"The first time, I stepped through the Brandenburg Gate... The second time, I gazed at the Brandenburg Gate from afar... The third time, I looked at the city of Berlin from afar... Today, I can't even find the road signs to Berlin..."
"I always thought that hope and victory were just around the corner, just like last year, just like when I was struggling on the brink of death in Stalingrad. Only now do I have to admit that Berlin is the starting point—both the starting point of this new war and the starting point before the enemy returns to Motherland."
"We're about to retreat again. This time, I hope I can still easily press the piano keys in Leipzig..."
……
"Can we still see Soviet ground troops?"
"At least they never got any closer again."
Elizabeth and Kelly finally slept peacefully for a few nights in Berlin. The distant sounds of gunfire, like a gradually ceasing thunderstorm, echoed through the night, slowly calming down before dawn.
There was no longer any need to worry about the overwhelming military formations under the red flags, nor about the sickles and hammers cutting and smashing down the expeditionary force's advance, even if only temporarily. And when news came from Potsdam that the Western Allied forces had also retreated far away, it was like putting a soft blanket on a cold, hard bed, making it easier to sleep soundly.
However, a few mosquitoes still bothered her at night. During this time, the air power of the US and British forces appeared more and more frequently, and during the day they would run into the army's advance route to wreak havoc as usual. At one point, even the captain of the HMS Archivk was a little worried and repeatedly emphasized to Elizabeth that they could not go to the battlefield to provide support during the day - the US and British warplanes were more suffocating than the Soviet army.
What's worse, ever since they caused trouble for Rostock, the enemy to the west has never stopped. During the day, they blatantly appeared on the advance route of the pursuing troops, and at night they even brazenly went east of the Elbe River to bomb the villages and towns where ground troops were stationed.
However, the bombers were not targeting any major cities south of Berlin, and the attacking planes were no longer the Lancaster squadrons that raided Rostock. Instead, small groups of twin-engine or single-engine fighters, carrying bombs and rockets, set fire to the lower Elbe River and the area north of Berlin.
This is strange. That's neither where the Allies were fighting on the ground nor where they were focusing their defenses. Could it be that a large American or British force was preparing to rush over from the lower reaches of the river? Thinking about it again, perhaps it's because Elizabeth and her forces have devoted too much air power to the south during this period, leaving little attention on the north. The enemy is testing the waters and then ruthlessly slashing the land north of Berlin from the air.
The more she thought about it, the more worried she became. Since she couldn't leave the skies outside of Berlin, the princess had no choice but to personally order a large number of air force aircraft to be dispatched early this morning to continuously intercept and drive away American and British warplanes. Finally, tonight, the annoying explosions faded from her mind from the north.
The Brandenburg Gate under the night sky exudes a serene tranquility that soothes the soul.
"How long will it take to light up Berlin, Sasler?" the princess asked the duke beside her. "Oh, of course, I mean the lighting."
“I think the Poseidon’s Halberd should be sufficient, Your Highness.”
As the two talked, on the horizon beyond the city, the faint pulse of the train cannon could be seen, its electromagnetic muzzle and energy storage device shining brightly like a lighthouse.
Tsk, another report suddenly? Allied warplanes are causing trouble again in the lower Elbe River...
……
"Field Marshal Montgomery has given the order to commence Operation Stoney."
……
Bensdorf, located 48 kilometers west of Potsdam and 66 kilometers west of Berlin, is currently under Allied occupation.
The front line is still quite a distance away, and the large group of people is retreating one after another, but the searchlights here are a bit strange.
Jonathan sat in the truck next to him, puzzled. The gentlemen were busy pointing two or three searchlights toward the western sky. Not only that, they even covered the glass of the searchlights with a thin layer of red cloth, making the towering beams of light as red as the pupils of a vampire.
What the sergeant was unaware of was that in the open space next to these anxious soldiers, a radio transmitter was constantly emitting radio waves into the sky. He was also unaware that red searchlights and pulsating radio waves were also playing out in Magdeburg at that moment.
Then, the roar of propellers coming from the Elbe River made him and the soldiers around him realize—Captain Drucker had asked everyone to stay calm tonight because friends from the west were coming, was that why?
Jonathan wasn't very familiar with the Mosquito fighter plane. This sprite, with its two engines mounted on its shoulders and adorned with red and blue concentric circles, made the infantrymen, who rarely saw it at night, pause in their tracks. Checking the map, they realized they were flying from Magdeburg, the same place that used red searchlights and radio waves to guide them.
Immediately afterward, accompanied by the deafening roar of Britannian railway cannons falling from the distant east, the mosquitoes flew over this small patch of land in Bensdorf and headed north.
"All crew flight status confirmed, heading 58, altitude 500 meters, maximum speed, 8 minutes to reach target airspace."
……
"Get me connected to Berlin immediately!"
Who was it? A familiar face, Colonel Darwin. He had just been reassigned to another enemy position. He had been thinking about the weight of the Soviet medal in his hand when he heard the soldiers exclaim in surprise as they saw several squadrons of fighter planes flying overhead.
"Hey! I have urgent news to report to Her Highness Elizabeth. Tell her quickly that we have spotted several enemy aircraft heading northwest of Berlin. They are almost certainly British twin-engine fighters, and we have pinpointed their approximate flight path—towards Oranienburg!"
"Roger that, Colonel." The reply came from a general. "You are ordered to immediately deploy all air power and intercept enemy aircraft at all costs. Over!"
"What?" Damn it, the general cut off the communication decisively. Darwin was in a panic. Not only was the enemy's sudden incursion in the middle of the night frightening them, but how many of their own KMF air force units had been transferred to the lower Elbe River and south of Berlin? The worst part was that it wasn't just his troops that were transferred.
"Send armed helicopters into the air too! Even if we can't shoot them down, we should at least scare them!"
……
"What? Air support from other directions won't arrive for another five minutes?!... Damn it, order all soldiers to evacuate!"
Fortunately, the alarm sounded at Oranienburg, and KMFs flew in from all directions, taking up positions towards the approaching figure in the distance. The Poseidon's Halberd's crew, who had just loaded the shells and were about to charge the cannon, scattered like ants whose nest had been overturned from beneath the massive figure.
The first wave of mosquitoes swooped down from the sky, using the machine guns and cannons on their noses to sweep wildly across the ground. The infantry fighting vehicles and KMFs were no match for these fierce attacks, and scrap metal that was fired into flames was constantly scattered inside and outside Oranienburg.
When the second wave of fighters landed, they brought with them an unlucky guy who was full of anger. But the Britannian soldiers on the ground showed even more fear than when they heard that the air raid was coming—because they were the ones who were going to be even more unlucky. The Mosquito that was shot down was heading straight for the shell pile of Poseidon's Halberd.
In an instant, Oranienburg was like a sun rising from the dead of night. Sparks from exploding railway cannon shells, fragments of Mosquito fighter planes, and a deluge of flying sand and stones enveloped the entire town in a storm of gunpowder light, making the streets brighter than midday. As for Poseidon's Halberd, after trembling slightly in the shockwave, its angular form became even more striking, like a sea turtle basking in the scorching sun on a beach.
The plan was to have the first wave of aircraft drop flares to indicate the target, but unexpectedly, the enemy ignited their shells, making the crater look like a giant brazier. The surviving fighters, who had come with great difficulty, were now ravenous and didn't care about the pursuers behind them. About ten Mosquito fighters, fully loaded with 500-pound bombs and RP-3 rockets, all aimed at this sturdy figure.
It was more colorful and noisy than a superstar concert stage. Exploding fireballs, scattered mud, and countless severed limbs completely wrapped the train cannon in cotton candy. Gunpowder-smelling strands of candy raged in the air like venomous snakes, tearing at everyone's nerves.
Run for your lives! The fate of this behemoth is no longer in your hands!
……
The mosquitoes flew away, leaving behind the roar of the engines of the KMF aircraft in pursuit. The soldiers remaining in Oranienburg could not help but stare in terror at the Poseidon's Halberd, which was flickering and spewing flames just an hour ago. Now, it resembled a withered tree in a forest fire, billowing smoke and overflowing sparks, as terrifying as a flood about to burst its banks.
"Where's the fire department?" Everyone snapped out of their daze and was about to try to save it—if they couldn't save the cannon, at least they shouldn't cause any more disaster.
"Hey, wait a minute!" A sharp-eyed person noticed something unusual. Although the structure of the train gun looked undamaged, the location of the surging electric sparks seemed to be a large capacitor that charged the cannon.
What would happen if a lit firecracker were stuffed into a large water-filled balloon?
What shot into the sky like snowflakes were not only dazzling electric sparks, but also parts of the train cannon torn apart by the electromagnetic field. The cannon barrels, still pointing to the sky, were like Poseidon's trident, attracting Zeus's lightning from the heavens. Amidst the flashes of fire and thunder, fireballs soared into the air, throwing Oranienburg from the chill of early spring into the midst of a summer thunderstorm.
All that remained outside this small town were scorched earth, carbonized human bodies, and war giants torn apart like dismembered warships.
A thunderclap startled Elizabeth from her dream.
……
When the sun rose again, the lingering echoes of thunder still clung to the land. From the sky, Oranienburg looked like an ugly black spot, staining the flag of the Britannian Empire black.
Colonel Darwin, still shaken, came out of the city and didn't dare look back even once more.
There was no more reliable beacon. Hundreds of thousands, even millions of soldiers watched helplessly as Poseidon's Halberd turned to ashes. Perhaps the only solace they could find was in the British warplanes that had been shot down before them.
"Our results?" he asked Major Valard, who was standing in front of the fighter jet. "That's it?"
“Even if we stop all the returning British troops, we've still lost…” The major turned around and looked at him meaningfully, “Do you know what this is?”
"This? A British fighter-bomber? Or, according to our codename, the Skuas?"
"Both are correct, but there's a more suitable name... Courage."
……
Major Valard was chatting with the people around him while simultaneously communicating with another person through the radio in his ear.
"OK, Mayer, how's it going on your end?"
On the other end of the radio wave, another group of aviation KMFs, ordered to take off, were flying towards the western sky.
These veterans, who had been displaced for the past month or two, had a glimmer of hope when reinforcements arrived that the skies of peace would no longer be confined to Berlin, and that they would have many more open skies and smooth roads ahead.
Then, this morning, they received an urgent order from the general, carrying Her Highness the Princess, to take the initiative to suppress the allied forces in the west.
Then, at that very moment, thousands of meters above the clouds, they saw in the distance patches of dark shadows, white stars and concentric circles connecting in the clouds, wild horses, lightning bolts, and fire-breathing creatures, welcoming their arrival like a locust plague.
"Cheer up, warriors, it seems we still have a long way to go."
Chapter 237, Section 312: Farewell to the Knight
Everything resembled a pile of sand on a conveyor belt, its smoothness tinged with uneasy tremors.
Tanks painted green and trucks carrying Allied soldiers were slowly driving across the Magdeburg Bridge—a week ago, they had headed east toward Berlin, and now, protecting the flanks of the retreat route under the hammer and sickle flag, it was their turn to be chased and beaten by the enemy.
"Abandon the entire defense line on the east bank and retreat." This was a simple and brutal order from above, and the scene that proved this order was equally simple and brutal. Sitting on the west bank of the Elbe River, all that could be seen in the rising sun was countless fighter jets and a group of flying puppets locked in a chaotic melee. All that was advancing was the sound of those black steel jungles striding forward.
Across from Magdeburg lies a village, the last line of defense against the pursuing Britannian army. The western forces are already prepared; as soon as the last few trains of the main Allied force return, they will blow up the bridge, leaving the pursuing enemy with corpses strewn across the fields and forcing them to retreat in frustration. In the short term, the enemy will also be unable to cross the Elbe River.
Unlike Berlin four months earlier, Jonathan and his squad were fortunate enough not to be on the last train. He and the other soldiers guarded the front line on the west bank, with empty spaces between the buildings behind them, as if waiting for something.
"Watch out from the sky, guys. This time it's our turn to be the Germans in the Ardennes Forest."
They could only watch helplessly as their comrades on the other side grew closer, the smoke from the distant battle approaching like a black sandstorm. The howitzers behind them were constantly firing shells at the enemy's path, and fighter jets and dummy figures in the sky were falling like withered leaves, trailing flames as they plummeted down. But they still couldn't hear the message on the radio that the mission was complete.
They weren't responsible for blowing up the bridge, but they needed to guard the ferry crossing upstream on the river, watching out for any enemy flanking attacks.
"Incoming!"
Without warning, a shell crashed into the house behind them with a loud roar, and the soldiers were forced to the ground by the flying gravel and sand.
"Damn it!" Jonathan hurriedly fastened his helmet back on, peering through the gap at the enemy's position. "Assault guns and KMFs? How did we miss those?"
“I wanted to ask you the same thing, Sergeant,” Carl said, busy pushing Tommy back to his machine gunner's position. “All hands on deck! Return fire!”
Luckily, the enemy force that came to ambush them wasn't too large. The first three assault guns were destroyed by an anti-tank gun and another Sherman without much trouble. The remaining problem was dealing with the cluster of KMFs. The nearby heavy firepower couldn't be called in for the time being. However, the Sherman also started to emit thick black smoke after a spark. These four-meter-tall things became even more unscrupulous, picking up their machine guns and recoilless rifles and starting to fire at the soldiers while moving along the river.
The paint job was a riot of colors, and the elaborate evasive maneuvers were sure to set them off in trouble. Before the anti-tank guns could even fire a few shots, Jonathan and his squad had already unleashed a barrage of smoke grenades. Tracer rounds whistled overhead through the billowing white clouds, the smoke walls obscuring the soldiers' bodies but unable to stop the deadly bullets hurtling towards them.
Suddenly, a sound like the grappling hook of a rock climbing gun hit the side, and the gunfire from the opposite side quieted down a little. The soldiers didn't know what was going on, but it was definitely not a good thing.
Immediately afterward, while still in the smoke, the sound of a gasoline engine came from the buildings behind him. Jonathan turned around and saw a half-track vehicle and the chassis of a Chaffee tank stop behind him.
"OK, sergeant, you'd better move a bit, not to avoid the enemy, but to make room for us."
……
What was coming from the other side of the river? A pair of steel cables, one end fixed to the east bank, the other end aimed at the soldiers. The KMFs planned to spread their legs and drive on the tightrope towards the American positions.
The leader, seeing that the smoke screen was about to dissipate, took out his KMF hydroxyl explosive grenade in advance, intending to give the soldiers an appetizer before showing off his skills.