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In less than two minutes, rocks and sand scattered all over the ground. Then, Chicherin and another Red Navy officer joined forces to form a human battering ram, smashing down the sturdy steel warehouse door and its frame.
"Bose! Bose!" The Russian rushed in, cursing wildly, and swiftly tackled two rats who were destroying textual evidence in the warehouse. Taylor and Denia, who had been pushed aside by the Russian, bumped into each other, both of them huddled together, their faces disheveled.
"Are these people on drugs...?"
"I guess they were just bored and restless after being in the POW camp for so long, so they wanted to get rid of people..."
……
"These two brats are in your hands now, Ms. Genia. We'll take care of the weapons inventory."
Thanks to the trust gained from such an overly enthusiastic performance, Stasevich easily dismissed everyone except the American soldiers. He then calculated the number of guns in the warehouse and directed Ivanov and the others to take out the large bags that they had hidden in their clothes before setting off.
In stark contrast to their previous fervor, Androv and Taylor kept watch at the door while the others quietly picked up a few pistols and submachine guns from the more than one hundred on the storeroom cabinets, then loaded several magazines from the jars full of bullets and stuffed them all into their bags.
They collected about six or seven bags, just enough for the two comrades to carry. With the help of the other comrades, Stasevich and Ivanov quietly slipped to the other end of the residential building, to a much quieter empty space. Next to it was a dusty drainage pipe, empty and hollow like a rotten apple with a hole in it.
"Hey! Lieutenant, over here!" Hiding behind the pipe was the familiar Mr. Hanks, along with two other men who were also members of the German Mutual Aid Society.
After the two men lowered several bags down with ropes, Hanks and his two companions immediately picked them up, crawled into the drainpipe, and disappeared without a trace.
……
The conflict between Germans and people from Area 11 has become increasingly tense, and the German Assistance Association was born under such circumstances, but it is helpless to change anything.
Stasevich had promised to help them get some guns, but then news came from his hometown that former German soldiers were starting to align themselves with the US and the USSR. This meant that if the Germans in Area 11 committed serious violations of Imperial law, including possessing weapons as non-Brittanian citizens, the good image that civilians had cultivated would be completely exposed.
After some discussion, Hanks did his best to persuade the civilians, and then gave the guns that the Russians had risked their lives to obtain to the so-called "other comrades who had escaped from the prisoner-of-war camp".
When Hanks handed over his weapons to a man in black who spoke fluent Russian—the code was exactly the same, but little did anyone know that under the hood was a Western name named Edward White.
He carried his gun and ammunition and hid in a place filled with Americans and British people.
"We've finally received some good news, gentlemen. The brave warriors infiltrating the Britannian army have managed to procure some weapons for us." Edward produced a map. "This is just the first step in solving the equipment problem. Thanks to Sheldon for also managing to get hold of a Japanese... oops, an Area 11 guy, the place where they secretly manufacture guns and gun parts."
Edward picked up the pistol that Stasevich had given them, which even had a silencer.
"Everything we do quietly today is laying the foundation for a groundbreaking operation in the future. From now on, we will get closer and closer to the success of Operation Watermill."
The silenced pistol clicked at Edward's fingertips, and the bullet, amidst the hurried departure of police sirens outside, silently shattered the map on the table marking the location of the Tokyo Concession City Hall.
Chapter 305, Section 393: Strategic Planning and Victory at the Baltic Sea (Part 1)
The ashes turned into dew, falling from the dark clouds in the sky and landing on the country lanes and among the American soldiers hurrying along.
Jonathan and Carl sat atop the M19 weapons carrier, their faces etched with a chilling intensity, their gazes fixed on the vehicle's twin autocannons as if they had tasted the blood of revenge. Ahead lay a small town called Egern, 21 kilometers from the Elbe River.
The men in the squad didn't even have time to complain about being tired. Looking at the woods and fields by the roadside, they saw nothing but abandoned Britannian KMFs and tanks. Some lay overturned beside bomb craters, while others lay asleep in the wilderness as if in shock. Their depleted Sakura Stone energy packs could no longer roar to power their engines.
It all started from the very beginning.
Previously, the U.S. Army, under the leadership of General Patton, had formed a relatively tight encirclement. The Imperial 39th Army had no choice but to fight its way north to join forces with the Black Prince's Army, which was dealing with the British. To be fair, it would have been difficult for the U.S. Army to take down the army alone. However, when the British Army also began to actively attack the Black Prince's Army on March 22, a subtle sense of foreboding arose.
After a desperate struggle, most of the army's more than 60,000 troops broke through the encirclement, leaving just over 10,000 soldiers to continue fighting the American forces within the encirclement. They were hoping that reinforcements from the east bank of the Elbe River could cross the river and attack as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, the British and Americans were determined not to let them go home—the pontoon bridges that the reinforcements had painstakingly built over the Elbe River were destroyed time and time again by the almost unstoppable attacks of the Meteor fighters, and after the Flying Fortress and Lancaster failed to achieve their strategic mission of capturing the Berlin fireworks, they decisively used small formations of thirty or forty aircraft to repeatedly disrupt the crossing points.
Even if a transport truck is reduced to a single wheel, it will be launched into the sky by Mustangs and Thunderbolts—the pests of American fighter jets continue to irritate the expeditionary force, and many of the transport planes sent by the Empire to deliver airdropped supplies into the encirclement have not returned.
Yes, KMFs can do anything, from flying to diving, but they can't carry their ammunition and fuel around all the time, making themselves look like a stick selling candied hawthorns, right? As for the pilots, aren't they just like ordinary soldiers, made of flesh and blood? They all need to eat and drink, don't they?
And so, the days of shortage of supplies continued one after another. Vehicles and KMFs that could not be started, wounded soldiers that could not be properly cared for, and along with the transport planes that were shot down within the encirclement, more and more people were trapped and died in Egern.
Looking around, the white star insignia on the US military vehicles, like a pack of lions hunting, had cut off any hope of survival.
……
"Ceasefire! Ceasefire! I am Colonel William, commander of the 44th Division of the 39th Britannian Army!"
At that moment, Patton was outside the town, standing next to his jeep. The shells that kept falling into the town almost drowned out the colonel's voice—there were two loudspeakers at the entrance of the town, and the colonel was hiding behind a wooden fence, shouting desperately.
“I’m here to speak with you, General Patton! Our fighting is pointless now! I don’t want my remaining soldiers to die in a completely futile exchange of fire!”
Upon hearing this, not only Patton, but also Jonathan and his fellow soldiers from the First Division were enraged. Without saying a word, they helped Patton set up the megaphone and joined in the cursing.
"You coward, you've held on this long just so I can hear your nonsense?!"
"As their commander, I understand when defeat is inevitable, sir!" The colonel was somewhat frightened upon hearing the American army's attitude. "I know that we deserve to be sent to the deepest hell for stepping onto your soil, but I can assure you that we have not done anything inhumane!"
The colonel understood, and so did the officers and sergeants around him. They had killed countless American soldiers in Berlin, and so far, the First Red Division had not avenged this defeat. If they didn't back down, none of them would be able to keep their heads.
“Look at me, sir, look here!” William decided to play his last bargaining chip—he raised his hand high, personally took the arm of a group of captured American soldiers, and walked with them toward the American positions outside the village. “I have a group of your men here. Several of them were wounded in the previous shelling, and we don’t have enough medicine to treat them!”
"Mr. Patton, please reconsider! And I urge all American soldiers to reconsider! I once again assure you of the integrity of the entire 44th Division! Even if you were to tear me to pieces, I only ask that you guarantee the safety of my soldiers!"
Seeing the colonel leading American prisoners of war closer and closer, Patton finally put down his binoculars.
"Tell your bastards! Within two minutes, everyone drop your helmets and all weapons and stand on both sides of this road. If you behave, I promise I won't kill a single one!"
……
Of course, this was just the beginning. After searching the able-bodied Imperial soldiers, the soldiers identified which houses still contained wounded soldiers who were unable to move, and then took several unarmed prisoners of war inside.
Even so, the First Division's anger did not subside—if a wounded soldier had even a sharp surgical forceps, the soldiers would yell at him, point their guns at the prisoners, and throw these questionable "potentially dangerous objects" out of the house. They even hit a seriously wounded soldier lying in bed wrapped in bandages on the forehead with a rifle butt.
Thus, under the pressure of suspicion and the unfulfilled desire for revenge, the 44th Division surrendered obediently. For the first time, the Britannian flag was collectively surrendered to the American forces.
When Prince Kelly, who was a hundred miles away, received the news, he was filled with anger and regret, and smashed his teacup on the ground.
“Beach! Bastard! Damn it!…” Vulgar and offensive swear words gushed from his mouth, cursing America, the US military, the US military, and Patton. However, apart from the few generals accompanying him, the heavy-hearted and busy people in the command center did not have time to turn around.
"Tired of yelling?" Kelly heard a familiar whisper behind him. He turned around and saw his sister staring at him with a dark expression. She reached out and twisted his head, then pushed him to the ground.
"How did things go in Area 11, Your Highness?" Seeing Kylie scratch her head and casually get up, Sassler's attention was entirely on Elizabeth. "Also, I'm very sorry about what happened with the 44th Division..."
"Meet in the conference room in one hour, everyone."
……
Kelly had no idea that her sister had returned so early. Silent and aggrieved, she sat alone in the second chair of the conference room. Generals kept coming in, but none of them dared to greet her.
They thought the prince was angry, but he was thinking about how he had messed up his sister's entrustment and what kind of beating he would receive.
However, until Elizabeth and Caronville walked in together and the meeting officially began, the older sister didn't even pinch herself.
"Let's get straight to the point today, gentlemen," Elizabeth said calmly. "What was the total number of casualties suffered by the 44th Division?"
"The exact number is not yet clear, Your Highness. The only thing that is confirmed is that out of a total force of 18,000, fewer than 9,000 soldiers were rescued."
"Okay, so does the loss of 9,000 soldiers mean that the strategic situation on the Elbe River has been reversed by the US and Britain?"
Elizabeth seemed unconcerned about the loss or its impact on morale, and even Patton's inflammatory and provocative pronouncements from long ago appeared to have vanished with a faint smile.
"Let's go back to the question I gave you before I left: What is our current strategic task? Is it merely to eliminate as many enemies as possible?"
Unfolding a map of the western front reveals the situation on the Elbe: upstream, the US military destroyed all the bridges, allowing ground troops to be deployed at any time to where the Empire wanted to cross the river. Furthermore, any attempt to repair or build a pontoon bridge was met with air raids—Kelly even considered using his sister's KMF to attack the hadron cannons, but who would dare let him?
Downstream, the relatively well-equipped British forces, coupled with their unyielding and impregnable defenses, turned Britannia's previous two-way struggle with the Soviet army into a tug-of-war. The limited space made it difficult to wage a major battle that could reverse the situation in a short period of time.
"According to General Windsor's description, our confrontation with the British army has now become a daily routine of mutual air raids and artillery fire, Your Highness. Are we to continue committing troops and engaging in a war of attrition?"
"Why not? Or do you only see the mutual attrition? We will soon have a new batch of recruits. Isn't this a better training ground for the British army than the Soviet Union's swift and decisive action?"
But is it just for training new recruits? Her Highness must have other ideas, right?
"Now we are not facing one or two countries like the US, the Soviet Union, and the UK. Our adversaries from now on will be either the Northern Alliance or ASEAN. And the former's territory, in addition to the German lands in front of us, now includes the entire Scandinavian Peninsula. A noose along the Baltic coast is about to be tied around our heads. Haven't you realized that yet?"
Elizabeth paused, then raised her hand to signal Caronville to continue the conversation.
"Just like when the Soviet army first locked down Berlin, we are even more fortunate to have enough time and opportunity." As he spoke, the colonel pointed to the border between Denmark and Germany.
"The Jutland Peninsula is currently the direction in which the Northern Union ground forces are resisting the most, but it is also the only Baltic choke point that we can reach without going by sea, and it is also an important hub connecting Central Europe and Scandinavia."
"His Highness's reason for asking us to open up this situation as soon as possible is to create a crack in the Northern Alliance's strategic encirclement, prevent the United States and Britain from providing effective support to Sweden and other countries, and avoid the Nordic countries posing a greater threat to us in the future."
"At the same time, once the Jutland Peninsula falls under our control, half of the Baltic Sea will be in our hands. The Imperial Navy will have more freedom of action in the future, and we will have better space to deliver a heavy blow to the Northern Alliance's naval forces. At the same time, we will have fewer worries about attacking Northern Europe and raiding Eastern Europe and the Soviet coast."
"That's it, gentlemen." Elizabeth took the microphone back. "I know you're all feeling uncomfortable fighting the British right now, and I know you might be thinking of picking on the weaker Americans, but please look to the north. Do you see those two British battleships? Don't you think that daring to come and bombard the coast in broad daylight is less humiliating than the Americans annihilating a few thousand of our men, huh?"
……
The princess's words cleared up everyone's knots, and they began to formulate a general plan to attack the Jutland Peninsula.
"I don't care what tactics or strategies you use. What I need is the completion of an objective, the faster the better. The expeditionary force must now take Lübeck and Hamburg at all costs, while simultaneously constructing a new naval berth at Wismarschay and using its surplus air power to attack any potential Northern Union garrison on Bornholm Island, in preparation for controlling the maritime chokepoint."
"Then continue advancing northward into the Jutland Peninsula, capture Kiel, and completely sever Denmark's land connection with the European continent. In this way, the British supply line will fall entirely on Esbjerg, the only seaport in western Denmark, and the enemy forces in the Jutland Peninsula will be severely constrained."
"While these are being completed, the naval facilities in Lübeck and Kiel must be put into operation as soon as possible. Once the coast can support sufficient naval power, the Danish islands should be captured immediately, and ground troops should continue to advance towards Esbjerg to completely eliminate any resistance on that land."
Just as the meeting was about to end, General Trosa raised her hand—a month had passed since she was accidentally wounded by a hadronic cannon, and she was now barely able to attend the meeting with someone accompanying her.
"There's something I'd like to ask Your Highness... Whether they're still in the expeditionary force or will be coming to District 45, our troops always have some 'mavericks.' I'd like to know what methods we can use?"
"Why don't you ask your soldiers?"
"What?" Trosa clearly didn't understand.
"As a general, one should be mindful of the bigger picture and restrain one's sharpness. But looking down at the officers and soldiers who are risking their lives on the front lines, not everyone can tolerate such a person. So how can they vent their anger?"
“Tell your soldiers,” Elizabeth said, slamming her sword into the ground, “that anyone who disobeys orders on the battlefield and disregards the safety of their comrades, regardless of their birth or honor, will be a disgrace to the Britannian Empire and the expeditionary force.”
"Once you come into this world, you must follow new orders! If someone acts recklessly in the military camp, remove them from all their duties and equipment, and send them to a civilian underground shelter in Berlin; if they act independently on the battlefield, stuff them all into the bomb bay of a fighter jet and airdrop them onto enemy positions to block their latrines!"
Chapter 306, Section 394: Strategic Planning and Decisive Victory in the Baltic Sea (Part 2)
After the defeat at the Battle of Rügen, the Britannian soldiers could only watch helplessly as the shadow of the St. George flag fluttered over the calm sea.
The battleships HMS King George V and HMS Howe were the largest District 45 warships they had ever seen, and the muzzles of these Royal Navy guns were a mix of robbers and knights.
Thanks to the high speed of the King George V-class ships, they would frequently come to the German coast during the day to bombard Imperial Army positions or facilities on the shore, while the escorting warships and British and American warplanes constantly protected the two ships from above—like a knight challenging his troops in front of his camp.
By nightfall, when Britannia had gained the upper hand, the fleet had already made its escape towards Sweden and Denmark. To pursue them would be tantamount to walking into a trap—much like a cunning bandit.
……
"Lieutenant Shishian reports: We have reached the airspace above the British fleet and launched an attack, but have been intercepted by air forces!"
Today, they were determined to make the British pay a price. The generals planned that once the two battleships were out, the KMF would escort jet fighters loaded with rockets in a high-speed raid—the Knights of Agincourt and Camran had each mobilized a small portion of their forces, and such a concentrated operation of elite pilots was quite rare.
Seeing this, the battle line immediately turned north. The escorting Seafire fighters were slightly outnumbered and outmatched, and gradually began to struggle. Seeing this, the jets, braving the anti-aircraft fire of the British warships, unleashed a barrage of rockets, creating spectacular fireworks displays on the aft decks of a cruiser and the battleship HMS Howe.
Such a warm welcome naturally aroused the vigilance of the enemy. Before long, a squadron of Mustang fighter jets arrived from the north.
"Haha! The more the merrier, it's so much fun!" The one who shouted this was a captain named Peros—Shisian had heard of her; she was one of the few most arrogant, least able to distinguish between situations, yet also the most combat-capable members of the Kamran Knights.
Yes, that's right. Not only in various knightly orders, but even in ordinary troops, it's rare to see someone like her. Because of insufficient skills and low status, they all died before her.
Having just fought his way in and out of the Seafires seven times, he still managed to handle the Mustang with ease—but while Peros was in the heat of battle, Shishian noticed that the Mustang's wing had a different emblem than the white five-pointed star.
"In a blue circle, there are three golden crowns arranged in an equilateral triangle?" Whose is this? Denmark? Sweden? Norway? Anyway, compared to the usually formidable and experienced American pilots, the Mustangs today look like they've been castrated.
Xixi'an and her team were planning to test the performance of these foreign pilots, but the aggressive Peros kept swearing and wouldn't listen to orders at all—all of this was relayed to Angeli, who was with the commanders at the rear.
"General Wood has approved it. This is a good opportunity for you to sell her. Focus on observing enemy aircraft. I will summon you."
Angelie spoke with ease, just like when they first encountered IS-3 and dealt with that commander who was all bravado but no brains.
Then, at General Wood's signal, she gave Peros the order to "launch an airborne assault on the decks of the British battleships."
……
"Enemy aircraft is diving at high speed! 2600 yards away! It's...it's a Vincent!"
When Rear Admiral Flint, the captain of HMS King George V, heard the news on the bridge, he was slightly puzzled. He tilted his head and looked through his binoculars at the approaching shadow of Pelos's plane—confirming that the latter did not have a hadron cannon on its back like Elizabeth's plane.
Vincent flew through the air like a darting wasp, and neither HMS George V nor the anti-aircraft cruiser Diaden beside him could even touch its heels. But strangely, not only the sky above, but also the Britannian attack group seemed to be retreating. Pelos did not fire, and in front of the bewildered faces of the anti-aircraft gunners on the battleship, he did a somersault, slashed the bridge, and landed on the top of the No. 2 main gun turret.
"Order turrets A and B to load and fire immediately." The captain turned around and shouted casually, except for the fact that this KMF was standing on the turret and aiming the machine gun at the bridge window.
"What do you mean, sir? Who are the main guns going to shoot at?"
"Aim anywhere, raise the gun barrel as high as possible, I just want to hear a sound." The captain's expression was serious as he turned to give the order, and the messenger didn't question it much. "Oh right, have the damage control team get ready to get to the foredeck as soon as possible."
As for Peros, she became somewhat impatient. The MVS sword only left a faint line mark on the bridge armor, and she started picking up the machine gun and firing randomly at the porthole.
This caused a lot of trouble for the people on the bridge. Yes, it was definitely more annoying, noisier, and more blinding than the pattering of raindrops while navigating through the downpour.
Only the captain remained calm, shielding his eyes with one hand as he watched the six 14-inch main guns on the foredeck rise to their highest positions before immediately ordering them to fire.