novelnext Page 231
Page 231
"So the son's behavior is inherited from his father?" With this question in mind, Hohenzollern and Windsor discovered a problem when they first inspected the destroyed or abandoned British tanks along the way - why do most of these tanks have a mouse painted on them?
The insignia for U.S. Army armored troops is a three-colored triangle with tracks bearing Arabic numerals and a lightning bolt; the numbers indicate which division they belong to. Initially, the Imperial soldiers didn't pay attention, assuming there was only one armored division in the entire United States.
By the same token, the insignia of the groups of British armored soldiers along the way must be rats.
Half believing it, half doubting it, they finally found the prisoners of war and understood the truth, which made them both laugh and cry: all along they had been facing the same unit - the British 7th Armoured Division, nicknamed the Desert Rats.
Well, while not as formidable as the Soviet Union's stampede of thousands of "cows," these rats huddled together with the British infantry and trenches, using Churchill's armored vehicles to annoy people and Cromwell's drift cars to get around. They only had a chance to strike at the heart of the enemy when they launched an attack from their main "cave." Thinking about it, they really were a bunch of rats. Compared to the American armored divisions, they really didn't seem like biological father and son; the latter seemed like a hybrid of Soviet cows.
……
Just as the general and the count were figuring out the weaknesses of the British army and advancing triumphantly with their overwhelming numerical advantage, Trosa, still suffering from her ailments, returned to Berlin with her tattered Meteor aircraft.
Elizabeth told her to rest well, and that the blackened engine of the meteorite gave the engineers something to "squeeze out" for inspiration. She and Kelly discussed how to fight the next battle.
The siblings stood on a Berlin air raid tower that had been restored and put into operation by Britannian workers—ironically, the ground fortress that had been built up overtime to deal with air raids had now become a decorative monument to protect the city's peace, and the large rooftop of the Reichstag building had been squeezed out of the air raid positions by a bunch of meteorological observation facilities.
Such plans have failed to keep up with changes and have repeated themselves. The original plan of "severing the connection between the Northern Union Army on the Jutland Peninsula and the European continent as soon as possible" remains unchanged, but the current progress and timeframe may not be able to achieve this before British and American reinforcements arrive.
The two main targets at present are Hamburg and Lübeck. The latter deserves special mention. East of Lübeck is a wetland area centered around several lakes, with large areas of farmland and relatively few roads suitable for passage. When the US, Britain and the Soviet Union launched the encirclement from the east and west in January and February, the British army did not choose this route of attack, partly due to this consideration.
This time it was Britannia's turn. The soft, damp ground was unsuitable for KMF and tank units to deploy, and Canterbury was not a place where you could just sit down and start firing. There were also numerous waterways that would trip you up, making it easy to forget that the city of Lübeck sits at the confluence of three rivers.
Fortunately, this place is not within the firing range of the British fleet in the Baltic Sea to the north. Speaking of the sea, the navy personnel have already set up cranes in Wismar, less than 50 kilometers east of Lübeck. Does this mean that the city cannot be taken until the navy arrives?
Therefore, the only solution at present is to break through Lüneburg, a city located precisely on the midway line between Lübeck and Hamburg. Moreover, even if they cannot capture the city proper, they will be able to take control of the road and rail bridges spanning the Elbe River to the north of the city—aside from Lübeck, this is the only railway in Germany that connects Berlin and Denmark.
By taking this place, we can use it as a base to expand northwards and encircle the two core cities from multiple directions along multiple lines, thus severing the southern defenses of the Jutland Peninsula. All our plans and ideas can then be realized, thereby securing an excellent casualty ratio for ourselves.
……
"Perhaps the most immediate expedient measure is to send in airborne troops for a direct assault and capture. As for the details of the plan, Your Highness should consider the situation of the expeditionary force and make an appropriate decision." Caronville left with this suggestion and hurriedly went to the Lübeck front to help the troops resolve the issue of wetland warfare.
Kelly was holding the airborne plan from the Berlin breakout six months ago—he planned to summarize it himself before giving his opinions and ideas in order to show his sister how much he had grown.
“Let’s recreate the plan from six months ago.” He pointed to the north and south sides of the Lüneburg railway bridge with his sister. “This time we’re not going to demolish the bridge, we’re going to seize and defend it. It’ll be better to have the KMFs parachute in from both directions, and then at the same time, Count Hohenzollern and General Windsor will rush towards the south side of the bridge… um…”
Have you considered other issues, silly little brother?
“Uh…the imposters in this world are very cunning. We can’t reveal our intention to seize the bridge in a big way right from the start. We have to tell the generals.” Kelly made a note—telling Windsor to slow down the northward advance. “And this time the target is quite valuable, so we still need the same size airborne force as last time.”
“The place where the Black Prince’s army jumped from the plane last time isn’t separated from Berlin by a river, and the Soviet army withdrew voluntarily back then.” Elizabeth scratched a deep mark on the Elbe River on the map with her fingernail. “This time, you’re throwing over ten thousand people and their weapons and equipment across the river with just a word. What do you plan to do about their supply depletion if they encounter fierce resistance?”
"NONONO, sister, you misunderstood." Kelly seemed to have learned from the lesson of the 44th Division being wiped out by Patton's US forces. "We're still using the same number of planes, but one and a half divisions are enough for the troops. The extra planes will be used for airdropping supplies. If the battle goes smoothly and they rendezvous with Windsor, we'll airdrop the remaining large forces down, hmm?!"
"So in the end, this is the first time that the airborne troops have operated independently. Although everything is difficult at the beginning..." Elizabeth smiled unexpectedly and patted her brother's head. "As the older sister, I'll leave this to you."
……
It was a cloudy day, and the Elbe River still carried melted snow in the farmlands of Lower Saxony.
However, as the sky cleared with the roar of engines, KMFs carrying parachutes and gliders stepped onto the land at both ends of the Lüneburg railway bridge under the sun shower of the air raid.
Torres bid farewell to Sindra and Kanhu, and as a temporary addition to the airborne troops, he was assigned to work with two up-and-coming Vincent Wards, whose lead plane was equipped with a shield. They destroyed a 6-pounder anti-tank gun, and the British infantry they could see were either lying on the ground or fleeing.
They landed on the sandy ground beside the bridge—a combined railway and highway bridge with both passages on the same wide deck. The two-way single-lane highway was spotless, while a train was anchored on the tracks. The Union Jack, fluttering in the fierce wind, lashed against the trusses beside the bridge, reflecting the sunlight and sudden bursts of fire. In the gray smoke, it looked like a pair of terrifying bull eyes staring at them.
“Everything is normal! There wasn’t much resistance nearby, and…” Just as they were reporting the situation to their superiors and trying to contact friendly forces in the vicinity, they sensed something was wrong over the radio.
"We have encountered British armored troops! Request immediate support from any units nearby with recoilless rifles!"
"Tanks! Tanks everywhere! We're surrounded! Take cover!..."
"Get off the road! Don't become a target! Ah!—"
What's going on? The captain was stunned. Wasn't it according to the generals' deduction that the British Army only had the 7th Armoured Division on the other side of the front line? How come there are suddenly so many lumps of iron?
No, once confirmed, none of the British troops they encountered were driving cumbersome Churchill trucks. Could it be that this group of British troops had something else going on?
Suddenly, the sound of cannons rang out, like a salute coming from a cave. Another Vincent in the team was hit in the body by a thin bullet, and it fell into the Elbe River with its limbs scattered like a torn towel.
"Such power?!" The captain panicked. He crouched down and activated the shield to its maximum power. Torres was also ordered to keep his distance.
"Where did they come from?" With poor visibility, the captain looked around at the bushes, still shaken, and fired a few shots into the air with his machine gun. "Enough of you imposters! Stop hiding, come out if you dare!"
No sooner had he finished speaking than a loud crash came from the bridge. A British tank leaped up from the other side of the train, smashed through a freight car, and landed on the ground, firing a shot at the captain's aircraft.
"Damn it!" The shell hit the shield, causing a violent jolt throughout the entire aircraft. The captain's body and Vincent Ward were nearly torn apart by the terrifying kinetic energy. Upon seeing this uninvited guest, it was no surprise that it looked almost exactly like Cromwell, whom they had encountered earlier.
"Didn't they say that UL rounds can destroy it head-on?" He was about to aim his machine gun at the direction the tank was coming from, but when he turned around, he exposed the side that the shield couldn't cover. Another Cromwell, which had just destroyed its companion, took the opportunity to tear his life to shreds.
Torres was at his wit's end. Two UL rounds had gone and gone for good, so he had no choice but to stand up and make a desperate attempt to rush to the flank of the oncoming tank. Suddenly, he noticed that where there should have been a rat on the armor, there was now a dark bull.
Just as the two were getting closer and closer, spraying machine gun ammunition at each other, and his KMF was preparing to turn and fire as they were about to pass each other, the tank's hull followed with a drift and the muzzle of its gun lowered.
Torres only remembered that the slender gun barrel was completely different from Cromwell's silhouette. His KMF then tripped the leg of the passing opponent, who fell to the ground. Without saying a word, he fired a crisp 77mm shot, ending his life.
……
Smoke billowed across the north bank, while the south bank, near Lüneburg, was in complete disarray, with the artillery fire from tanks and KMFs echoing like the booming of a temple bell.
I heard that there are quite a few British tanks in the north, and they have sent a small group to occupy the bridgehead on the south bank, keeping an eye on everything that might happen on the road.
"Oh, Your Majesty, could it be this?" The tank that had just dismantled the train saw heavy firepower blocking the bridge, so it circled around from the road to the railway. One track was wedged against the bridge railing, and the other track was resting on the train carriage, letting the wind and rain stirred up by the KMF's rapid firepower brush past it.
"It's coming! Get out of the way!" The steam locomotive that was stopped in front of them was blasted into pieces by its shell. Several KMFs watched as the Cromwell, with its remaining fragments, took off again from the gray smoke filling the bridge. The fragments swept past the "IRON DUKE" written on the side of the turret and crashed into the crowd like a comet falling from the sky.
However, when Field Marshal Montgomery in Lüneburg heard this string of "good news" from the riverbank, he immediately made a call to Eisenhower as if his brow was on fire.
"You heard me right, Ike! These alien bastards parachuted a bunch of their Nutcrackers onto the backside of our British 11th Armoured Division!"
"What?! Isn't that the unit you transferred from the border of Germany and Denmark to flank the enemy forces in front of Lüneburg?"
"What are you expecting my gentlemen to do now? The US Army Air Forces say they're busy with organizational restructuring, so who's going to clear the enemy off the tank crews' way? Am I supposed to just wait for the Royal Air Force to catch up on their sleep, and in the meantime, boil some water and brew a pot of black tea?"
"Understood, Monty." Ike could only accept his bad luck. The British army's original plan for a proactive counterattack had turned into a complete mess, and the defense plan for Hamburg had been completely reduced to the initial blueprint of "manpower piling up." "I will immediately dispatch some troops north to reinforce Lüneburg."
"Oh, thank you so much, Americans from Saratoga..." Montgomery said sarcastically, about to hang up, when he suddenly remembered something and quickly grabbed the receiver back.
"Hey! I know who's in command of the 2nd Armored Division right now, so please don't let them get in my way. I don't want to see Patton's sullen face again!"
Chapter 312 Iron Beast, Fierce Blood, Lüneburg (Part 1) (Section 401)
War is always a contest of making mistakes. As Montgomery's counterattack plan crumbled, Kelly, far away in Berlin, was also thrown into disarray upon hearing the news.
"Good heavens, the original plan was for General Windsor and the airborne troops to work together to take the bridge, but now the former has to go all out to break into the encirclement before the enemy demolishes the bridge and rescue the latter?"
If it were simply a matter of urging reinforcements to set off immediately, that would have been fine. What's worse is that the British forces facing them, upon seeing this situation, unexpectedly launched a full-scale counterattack—although they only increased the firepower of their defensive positions considerably, rather than cutting off the Empire's advance route through infiltration.
“The Earl of Hohenzollern’s troops are going to face a tough challenge right from the start. Can they handle it so quickly?” Elizabeth just stood by, watching her brother pondering. Such concerns were not unfounded. It was hard to say whether the Earl and his men, being newcomers, would hinder them in the process of counterattacking the British attacking forces and planning their subsequent advance.
“I need to find Mr. Bruno.” The prince suddenly remembered the artillery designer—didn’t the latter’s team produce a few scattered high-penetration cannons for the expeditionary force? The artillery operation task force under his guidance and support was now preparing to cross the river.
“They have combat experience, they can definitely help the Earl and his men…” Kelly was about to put on her clothes and go out when her sister pulled her back.
“As a commander, what are your responsibilities?” Elizabeth gripped his arm tightly, not even glancing at his face. “How can the commander of an army leave his post for something like this?”
“Then I…” Kelly paused for a moment. Did her sister mean to learn from her and delegate some important but not urgent matters to others?
“Then…” Looking into those cold eyes, Kelly called out her sister’s name tremblingly, “Ms. Elizabeth?… Could you go, oh no, no, relay my orders, to summon Mr. Leonard Bruno and his task force artillery… Tell him that his artillery has a bunch of… important combat data that he might need to review on the spot?”
"Remove the question mark, and you're truly an adult." Elizabeth smiled slightly, then bowed slightly to him before leaving—a gesture that sent a chill down his spine, given his long-standing life under his sister's authority.
"Oh right, I'm the deputy commander-in-chief. So, since my sister's not around, I use this tone and manner of speaking, right?"
……
The prince's originally childish voice gradually faded away on this land as time passed; just like the expeditionary force that no longer feared the devastation of life, they were like the poplar trees that grew up in the desert, finally gaining the courage to stand tall and upright in the face of blood rain and sandstorms.
As for the British 7th Armoured Division, which they visited at the beginning, its teeth and claws had been worn down by four or five months of continuous fighting. Back then, they had defeated the famous German general Rommel, known as the Desert Fox, in the North African desert with their keenness and courage.
The "Desert Rats" are now battered and bruised, and as the only armored division of the British Army on the road from East Germany to Lüneburg and Hamburg, they are struggling to hold on.
Damaged and abandoned tanks, and a large number of dead and wounded soldiers, along with most of the new tanks and recruits brought in from the British Isles, have been allocated to the human resources needed to rebuild the army. There is very little new blood available to replenish the "Rat" forces locally.
Montgomery dared not immediately withdraw the 7th Armoured Division from the perilous front to replenish its strength. The division commander had no choice but to disperse some of its forces among the British infantry positions: on the one hand, to provide the infantry with the heavy firepower support they needed, and on the other hand, to act as a troublesome wrench, ready to appear at any time in the face of Britannia's attempts to infiltrate and encircle them.
Only today, behind the British infantrymen wearing iron hats, the panting iron-cast gerbils, amidst their weariness and lingering enthusiasm, see the endless black torrent in the distance.
According to General Windsor's plan, his Edward III Legion was to serve as the spearhead for attacking the British defenses at Lüneburg, and also to provide a practical demonstration for the Earl of Hohenzollern and his men who followed closely behind.
Fire from assault guns and attack helicopters raged between the trenches, and infantrymen's iron hats, stained with blood, flew into the air. The swirling mud and sand gradually buried more and more anti-tank gun positions. The earth suddenly lost the songs of the British Isles, replaced by an overwhelming catastrophe that swept across the heads of the sons of the British Empire.
"This is the 11th Cavalry Regiment of the 7th Armored Division! We are under heavy enemy attack! The infantry is preparing to abandon the position and requests rear guard cover and air support!"
Under such circumstances, it would be difficult for any British tank to survive for long against such overwhelming firepower, let alone withstand such a large enemy force.
But one Churchill tank never left – looking around, there were still a few scattered British tanks, and British anti-tank artillerymen who had not given up and continued to fire.
On the flagpole to the side, the ravaged national flag still fluttered, the colorful Union Jack standing out in the swirling sand and fog, yet it never fell.
The relentless and heavy firepower pounded on Churchill's thick armor, even causing deep cracks. As far as the eye could see, Britannian KMFs and tanks were constantly crumbling into smoke and dust over the open field, but even more numerous were the steel and blood that lay motionless under the Union Jack.
Everywhere there were wrecks and corpses. Less than five kilometers east of Lüneburg, the area was filled with the spirits of the same name but different sects.
"Field Marshal Montgomery's orders: Hold this place! Whether our tens of thousands of Northern Union comrades on both flanks will face annihilation by encirclement depends on us here... In the name of His Majesty King George VI, will anyone come to our aid?!"
……
Only a few Royal Air Force fighters flew by in the sky, merely to "prevent the aircraft painted with the Britannian flag from being so arrogant as to stand still and fire at the British."
The British army was already powerless to resist. If they put in a little more effort, they could send thousands of counterfeit Union Jacks into prisoner-of-war camps under the Lion and Snake emblem. If they were to imitate the Soviet army's actions and throw American soldiers into the barbed wire under the guard towers, the 44th Division's disgraceful general would be avenged.
In another direction, the Lüneburg Bridge became increasingly clear through the binoculars of the advance troops, while the airborne troops also reported that both sides of the bridge had been secured, and that if the rescue forces arrived any faster, they could avoid even greater casualties.
Windsor, who was at the rear, was quite pleased to hear the news.
It may take Count Hohenzollern some time to understand this feeling—how much pain and torment must he have endured to hold his head high so proudly in the face of a powerful enemy who bullied him?
……
At that moment, an ominous white star insignia appeared in the sky—US military aircraft had become increasingly rare in this direction lately.
On the land littered with armored skeletons, on the bloody battlefield where the two sides were locked in a fierce struggle, a formidable force, never before seen, suddenly appeared from the south, behind the sporadic artillery fire dropped by the Thunder Fighter.
"This is the 32nd Armored Regiment of the US 3rd Armored Division! We are cutting in from the southern front. Calling all British troops, beware of fire!"
The British tank crews, in their nearly crippled vehicles, barely had the energy to cheer, while the Britannian soldiers were more surprised by the arrival of the American troops.
Within that familiar triangular formation, a fresh Arabic numeral 3 finally appeared. This newly reorganized elite force, under orders from the North Union, rushed from the south to fill the gaps.
The surviving Churchill tanks fired as they slowly backed away from the main stage of the battlefield, leaving the already dead British Iron Rats silently watching the mighty Britannian army, frantically pointing their cannons at the hostile intruders.
It was a perfectly normal move, after all, the enemy that came was a large squadron of American M26s, and the cratered battlefield also caused trouble for the assault guns that could destroy the Pershing – if such a large turret were to turn its head to the side and fire, it would be easy for it to roll sideways into a shell crater.
Amidst the billowing dust, someone spotted a strange figure in the ranks of American soldiers. Initially, an assault gun, its flank pierced, exploded on the spot and flipped over due to the terrifying kinetic energy.
Following the trail of the shells, among the towering black shadows in the distance, there was a slightly abruptly shaped presence—it resembled a Pershing, but with an ugly protrusion in front of the vehicle. A telescope-like device was attached to the top of the turret, supporting the main gun. On either side of the steel plate welded to the front of the gun shield, there were two small iron wings.
Fortunately, it was painted the same color as a regular Pershing. If it had been painted metallic gray and dotted with bright colors, the pilots might have mistaken it for a weapon from another world. As for the ordinary tank crew, they rarely remembered the designation "T26E1" and mostly called it "Super Pershing".
……
"Direction 38, distance 1250 yards! What are you standing there for, Ramirez?"
"Could you please give that guy on the other side of the breech for me, Captain Sheffield?"
"Five seconds! Just give me five seconds, okay? This damn cannon's ammunition is split, can you spare me a second?"
"Oh, Dunn, next time could you use that energy for your nonsense to get to know our long-lost darling cat? Thank you!"
"Clear!"
"On the way!"
The 90mm shell roared out from the longer cannon barrel, like a favorable note in an overture, standing out among ordinary figures with a calm and powerful cycle.
"What a mess... Stop! Allen!" Sheffield, lying on the turret, watched as a bright shell flew through his binoculars, smashing a large crater in front of the tank that had come to an abrupt halt.
The Super Pershing was already heavy and positioned too far forward. With this sudden stop, the commander almost hit the M1919 machine gun in front of him, and Ramirez's flask, which he had placed to the side, slid right up to the driver's feet.
The newly arrived Pershing squadron members hadn't calculated things very well. One of them, while maneuvering to avoid an obstacle, accidentally stabbed his gun barrel into the mud.
"Get me on the line with the boss back home, Sanderson! Tell him that if the 'Firebirds' don't arrive soon, we'll be sleeping in this lousy place with the British!"
Chapter 313 Iron Beast, Fierce Blood, Lüneburg (Part 2) (Section 402)
There was a group of British tanks rushing across the bridge. They came from the north with great momentum and engaged in a fierce battle with the 18th Army of the Earl of Hohenzollern, disregarding casualties.