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Moreover, Sakura Stone also brought this other world civilization a terrifying weapon—just as Uranium-235 gave the United States a trump card to destroy the world.
"This was recently airlifted back from Europe. The enemy calls it the Hadron Cannon." Patterson pointed to a discarded weapon next to him that resembled the KMF's recoilless rifle but was covered with equipment and lights. Its owner was a girl who was an ordinary person on both sides of the war and had already perished in the flames with her body full of wounds.
"General Eisenhower previously stated that the bomber squadron destroyed in an instant was killed by it. Of course, this was a relatively cheap and simplified version. We have never obtained a genuine, sweeping version... Even so, it is extremely difficult. Even in Britannia, not every weapons engineer had the opportunity to come into contact with it."
“It involves many things that are even more obscure than superconductors, Mr. President.” Patterson shook his head. “We have invited Mr. Oppenheimer over, and he can only understand that this gun barrel is a structure for setting up a ‘reactor.’ What actually makes it fire are these things that have been burned to scrap, but we can’t even repair it right now.”
"What we can barely know is that the Sakura Stone exists in these devices in a way that we dare not easily dissect, and then it can use magnetic fields to launch things like protons and electrons like cannonballs, causing devastating damage."
"In addition, we also received a letter from Mr. Einstein, Chairman of the Extraordinary Committee of the Atomic Scientists: if you are willing to hand over this thing in its entirety, they are willing to spend the rest of their lives exploring its potential. Of course, I understand that you are refusing, after all, Mr. Einstein's aversion to nuclear weapons has become increasingly strong recently, and it is very likely that the destructive power of the hadron cannon can no longer be reproduced in his hands."
"Even so, isn't that enough to excite our researchers for a long time?" Truman's face still showed satisfaction. "Our world will have more and more applications of superconductivity in the future, won't it, General?"
"Perhaps, but in the future, none of us will be able to meet God with our corpses intact, Mr. President." Marshall sighed and traced a circle on the wall of a nearby warehouse—the warehouse door and walls in front of him seemed to have been specially renovated.
“In their ancient texts, cherry stone was called ‘explosive rock’.” The general shrugged and pointed to a tightly sealed metal box in the distance. “This kind of thing, cherry stone, is even more unstable than sodium. They sealed it in here. We didn’t know that at the time. Then a few workers tried to take it apart… Luckily, we didn’t have to repaint the entire base’s black walls.”
"Well, I don't want all the power plant workers in America to be killed by a cable that could explode at any moment." Truman shook his head. It was such a waste of this precious asset that would be used to such extremes in that other world.
"That's why we strongly advise against completely wiping out Britannia and then taking everything from their world, Mr. President. It's simply not worth it, at least not right now."
……
But is Sakura Stone the only thing worth caring about in the other world? Obviously not.
At the other end of this large hangar, workers and researchers had already dismantled everything captured in Europe with meticulous care. From the mechanical legs of the KMF and the turrets of the infantry fighting vehicles, to the various electronic devices inside, and even every diode in the chips of the PDAs, they were eager to stick to them like ants, making intimate contact with them.
The president didn't dare take a deep breath, fearing that even a careless exhale might harm these semiconductor treasures he never dreamed of—they couldn't get damp, dusty, or exposed to high temperatures; these delicate little things were more fragile than a newborn.
When you reach the end, you can see the radios and walkie-talkies that American soldiers carry daily in Europe and the Pacific. They have long been disassembled, and the individual vacuum tubes are now piled up haphazardly like pebbles used by children to play.
"What is that? It looks strange yet familiar?" On the high platform of the testing ground, Truman saw a cabinet-like object covered with electron tubes and light bulbs. "How did you put it up there?"
Marshall smiled and beckoned to a group of staff members in the distance.
Immediately afterwards, a pair of KMF robotic arms slowly floated over overhead—they were mounted on a mobile crane with tracks on the ceiling. Just moments ago, it was over there in the weapons area, and now these arms, wrapped in wires, were being operated by workers inside a large glass cockpit as they extended down.
Like placing a cooking pot on the stove, KMF easily and gently placed this thing, which looked to weigh over a hundred kilograms, in front of the president. This time, he saw it clearly.
"Isn't this one of the large metal cabinets in the ENIAC computer system? Is it retiring early?" Truman laughed. "So, where are the members of the Moore Group?"
“They’re at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds now, sir. But you’ll see them in color soon.”
……
Led by the leader, the group left the room and went to a smaller room where there were two television-like devices that had been removed from the KMF's electronic panel.
While turning on one of the devices, they gestured for the president to look at the camera above the screen frame. Shortly afterward, a frightening cannon shot rang out from its built-in speakers, accompanied by a jumble of static on the screen. In this way, the two leaders of the Moore Group, Eckert and Mauchly, were able to exchange faces and voices with the president through electronic devices and radio broadcasts.
Two PhDs from the University of Pennsylvania are standing 100 kilometers away, facing a screen exactly like the one in front of the president, with towering steel broadcast towers and cannons still booming behind them.
"Does this sound the same as it would to you if you were in your shoes, Mr. President?" The two doctors smiled. "If the sound is normal, then the image is also normal. In that case, we'll show it to you!"
Their display screen, along with its power source, was mounted on the hood of a Jeep, effectively acting as a moving camera that followed the two men to distant locations.
Aberdeen Proving Ground is the final stop for countless US military weapons before they are deployed. Today, in addition to routine weapons testing, several figures that look somewhat like M26 tanks are slowly climbing onto the trailers of the transport trucks. These behemoths, such as the T29, T30, and T32, which originally had no chance to strike the Nazis, seem to be changing their first letter to M and heading to Europe.
“As you know, sir, ENIAC’s original mission was to come to Aberdeen to calculate artillery tables for the army.” Mocheri and Eckert exchanged a smile, glanced at the metal cabinets in a corner of the warehouse in the distance, and then pointed the camera at an even more bizarre machine.
It's as if the KMF's complete operating system has been stripped of its unnecessary components and crammed into a metal box, leaving only an electronic screen with a few buttons exposed, displaying data that changes instantly as the cannon muzzle rises and falls—it's as if ENIAC, compared to it, is like a large, toddler learning to walk encountering a small, agile gymnast.
"We are not upset that ENIAC died so early, Mr. Truman. We even wish it had come into the world sooner, not to mention how many soldiers and civilians it would have benefited, at least Philadelphia wouldn't have had to cut off half the city's power every now and then to keep those vacuum tubes running."
……
“The owls in the forests of Central Europe also look forward to such things to help them catch prey, which is why Mr. Nimitz repeatedly asked you to secretly send an aircraft carrier to the Baltic Sea.” After finishing his conversation with the two, Marshall turned on the power to another screen.
"A ceremony is taking place in New York City, Mr. President. Although you can't make it there in time, there is another surprise for you... Believe your eyes, you are witnessing the world's first live broadcast of color television news with sound."
……
A German-American real estate developer’s subordinate bought a few face masks at a pharmacy in Brooklyn, New York, and drove off in a hurry—his boss was at the hospital visiting his one-month-old blond baby boy.
The pharmacy owner was an Italian immigrant, as were his wife and sister. After seeing off the previous customer, they took off their white coats and prepared to take out the "Temporarily Closed" sign before heading to the door.
"Come on, little Fauci." After holding their five-and-a-half-year-old son, the family went out—the child was playing with his father's stethoscope with great interest.
The destination wasn't far: the Brooklyn Naval Shipyard. It felt like stepping back in time to a year ago when the USS Enterprise, carrying thousands of American officers and sailors, arrived here for Navy Day. Hearing that this heroic aircraft carrier had once again heroically stepped forward in Europe's most critical moment, the citizens of New York flocked there again.
On the deck of the Enterprise, Captain Audie Murphy was still giving a speech into the microphone. Although he hadn't actually left the United States, he was guided by a secret script, gathering stories from American soldiers on the Hamburg front a month or two earlier, and telling the people about "a free army, a free country, a free world, and a free war."
Anyone familiar with the United States understands that the government and military leadership bringing back the Enterprise, which had just saved Hamburg, was undoubtedly intended to boost bond sales. However, some people's attention wasn't on her today, including little Fauci riding on his father's shoulders.
His attention was focused on a large box in front of Murphy—unaware that it contained the exact same thing that Truman had just discussed with the Aberdeen Proving Grounds. The base had several sets of wheels, and the crew used the handles around the metal box to create a camera movement effect, panning across Captain Murphy's face before focusing on the thousands of people below the aircraft carrier, finally catching a glimpse of young Fauci's bewildered eyes.
He stared at the pile of cables extending from behind the large metal box, then followed the cables to the top of the Enterprise's bridge, where a radio tower had been installed at some unknown time.
The radio waves from the broadcast tower not only reached President Truman, who was hundreds of miles away, but the people present also noticed something that looked like a television set around the aircraft carrier berth.
But unlike the black-and-white broadcast footage, they were surprised to find that they and Captain Murphy were actually following the trajectory of the metal box cart on the deck, taking turns appearing on the screen with clear, rosy faces—just like concert audiences today when they see themselves appear on the big screen of the stage as the camera sweeps across the screen.
“I often heard my father say that this war waged by aliens will bring about earth-shattering changes to us…” Fauci looked at his small reflection on the screen. “So, what will the great United States be like in 20 years, 50 years, or 80 years?”
……
"In war, we are all ordinary people who contribute to victory. Some contribute money to build barracks for the army, some help recycle waste rubber, some take up arms and go to the trenches, and of course, some operate warships to sail in the deep blue sea."
"In the next segment, I would like to invite a hero who once served on this great aircraft carrier beneath me." At this moment, the naval crew members standing on the deck immediately burst into applause. As Murphy's arm turned his gaze to the crowd to the side, he saw a pilot who had retired due to injury and was sitting in a wheelchair engraved with "Pearl Harbor Hospital".
"Let us warmly welcome Lieutenant Commander Richard Best, the former aircraft carrier air wing commander of the USS Enterprise, who has traveled all the way from California by invitation." Murphy personally stepped forward to help push his wheelchair in front of the camera, facing the countless cheering faces below the aircraft carrier, and picked up the microphone.
"It is a great pleasure to see everyone here who is passionate about contributing to the future of our country... First of all, if my voice could travel through this broadcast tower to the Baltic Sea, to another American aircraft carrier, I would like to say to my best friends: Do not be afraid to fight alone. Every American here is a partner who will share life and death with you..."
Chapter 361, Section 459: A Matter of Life and Death
The flags of Sweden and Denmark were taken down from the city hall in Lenne, and two Britannian soldiers slowly raised their own empire's lion and snake flag. Standing on the roof of the city hall, one could see thousands of civilians scattered across the island being gathered in the city.
As they raised their flags, only a church on the north side of the island was still trying to keep the imperial soldiers outside.
The artillery exercised restraint in attacking religious buildings, which made things difficult for the infantry who had to conquer them with their bare hands.
Unlike the square, rectangular outlines of churches in Germany, these churches on Bornholm Island are surprisingly difficult to conquer. Not only are they surrounded by open spaces riddled with anti-tank mines, but the entire church also resembles a round, white-painted silo, offering virtually no blind spots.
There weren't many windows in the walls, but countless small, concealed firing holes. However, this tactical insistence wouldn't change anything; before long, Britannian officers outside were using megaphones to urge surrender.
"Can you provide sufficient guarantees to prove that you are different from the Germans who came to Denmark a few years ago?!" came the reply from a young man speaking Danish.
At this moment, Juliet, who was standing next to the officer, volunteered to step forward. She threw down her shield and pistol, picked up a tree branch from the roadside, raised it high, and walked slowly to a spot more than a hundred meters in front of the church gate, in front of the countless gun barrels poised to fire from both sides. She chose a muddy spot and sat down.
“Look! That’s our role model!” The commander understood Juliet’s meaning, pointing at the unarmed girl. “You can decide for yourselves what to do next. If you want to surrender, open the church doors immediately, and we promise not to kill anyone. But if you want to fight to the death, her life is up to your bullets!”
……
Britannian soldiers retreated all their tanks and KMFs, leaving only some infantrymen to observe from the grass. The commander in charge of the front line agreed to this plan, but he was worried about Juliet's safety—of course, this was only from the perspective of a comrade-in-arms, not because of her background.
Someone tried to bring her water, but she refused using the communicator on her chest.
The battle on Bornholm Island has only lasted two days, including today. Juliet has barely rested during this time, and her clothes and face are covered with mud and dust from running around the island and cuts from bullet fragments—this is to set an example for the new recruits who are afraid of hardship, and there is a bit of acting involved.
I sat in front of the church in a semi-conscious state all night, and just as the sun rose the next day, I finally saw an arm holding a white bandage emerge from a small hole in the church.
Then a disheveled Danish lad crawled out from a crack in the wall—the Imperial soldiers lurking in the distance saw a Mauser rifle with a sniper scope on his back and their hearts tightened.
The young man stood in front of Juliet, watching her stagger to her feet, turn on her communicator, and speak a few words of English that he couldn't understand to the commander.
“My name is Paul Hansen, I’m a guide for Colonel Jodman in the Swedish garrison on Bornholm Island.” The young man stared at Juliet and turned his Danish voice, which he had previously used to communicate with the commander, toward the communicator on the girl’s body.
"The colonel has led most of the Swedish soldiers and Danish civilians away from the island. In the church behind me, there are seven Danish youths holding guns like me, 19 Swedish soldiers who are either surviving or wounded, with plenty of ammunition, and more than 100 civilians crammed here."
“Last night, an elderly man died in the church due to a worsening of his dysentery. Therefore, if you are willing to help dispose of the deceased and guarantee that others will be spared from disease, we agree to surrender unconditionally.”
Not long after he said that, a group of Imperial soldiers wearing Red Crosses and gas masks arrived in the distance. At the signal from Pol and the people behind him, they entered through the open church doors. More than ten minutes later, they left behind a pile of gas masks and medicine bottles for the civilians and came out with a body bag containing an old man.
"Thank you." Pol nodded, called out to the church, and handed the rifle hanging on his shoulder to Juliet. Behind him, the sounds of Swedish soldiers and Danish youths throwing their weapons out the window and hitting the ground could be heard.
If this dysentery is bacterial, it will be a big deal. So after capturing the island, Juliet stayed with the others for a few days to wait and see if the epidemic was serious before returning to Germany.
During this time, she also learned some interesting news: Scandinavia did not seem to be peaceful. Among the Danes who remained on the island today, there were young people determined to take up arms and fight to the death for their homeland, some who stayed because of physical limitations, and others who insisted on staying because they were at odds with the Swedes—in other words, it seemed that there were some national and ethnic conflicts between the Danes and Swedes.
This is why, when Colonel Jodman informed the civilians on the island of the preparations for evacuation, it sparked considerable protests, which led to him being forced to agree to allow willing Swedish officers and soldiers to stay and face defeat and capture alongside the civilians.
Clearly, the actions and thoughts of these people are far more ridiculous than the French, Belgian, and Dutch fighter jets that appeared over Hamburg just two weeks ago.
……
Because of their few days on the island, by the time Juliet returned, Angelie and the others had already hastily retreated from the front lines in Lüneburg.
Angelina was the only one in the barracks, slumped over the table, looking like she had been busy all night without sleep.
Juliet was even more shocked when she tiptoed over to take a look—a document about Ypel's pension, with Angelie's tear-stained signature on the side of the table.
Suppressing my disbelief, I flipped through the pages. Ipel had gone missing in Bad Bevinson, near Lüneburg, at the town's primary school, and the US military hadn't produced a single body for them to identify—all were unrecognizable amidst the fire and building collapses.
They searched the school ruins for a long time, but they couldn't find even Ypel's identification tag, or the unique hair clip on her head. All of this made Ypel, who should have been declared dead, a "missing person."
“Furthermore, according to our investigation, Sergeant Ypel has no relatives left. In other words, there’s no one to collect this pension.” At the very end of the document, the higher-ups decided to use Ypel’s pension for other “benefits for the expeditionary force.” As the captain, Angeline could only compromise and nod in agreement on behalf of Ypel’s spirit.
"Why did this happen!" Julia, who was usually calm, collected and taciturn, almost gritted her teeth and tore the document to shreds. Lilizia had been absent from the squad's barracks earlier, and today, before she could even share the joy of her promotion to sergeant major, she was met with this bolt from the blue.
……
Before she could go to the underground medical area in downtown Berlin, someone had already gone to visit Shishian.
Colonel Karonville couldn't even remember the last time he visited the wounded in downtown Berlin; coming here today felt like an unconscious act.
The medical staff led me to a hospital bed and I was almost startled—upon closer inspection, I realized that a white-covered book was covering my face, not a white sheet covering my head like the deceased had.
When she put the book away, Xixi'an's eye bags were more noticeable than usual, and the area around her eyes was quite red. When she opened her eyes as if waking from a dream and saw Caronville's face, the excitement and anticipation on her face began to turn into disappointment and surprise.
"The doctor said your pelvic injury was quite severe, is that right?" The colonel asked apologetically, unsure of how to begin. "It's good that you're alright, given the circumstances."
Seeing that Xixi'an didn't speak, he took out a glass bottle filled with a brownish liquid from his body.
"I've seen you mix rum and cola together before, so I tried it... By the way, do you like drinking it like this?"
The colonel timidly handed the bottle to her. Xixi'an lowered her head and stared at it for a long time. Just when she thought she was about to smile, a few tears suddenly slid down her cheeks.
This startled Caronville—when Shisian had helped him organize US military weapons data before, she always had an optimistic smile on her face.
“I used to set up the bedside table for Ypel, but now I can only take it with me… no, she doesn’t even have a tombstone…”
"Why did I end up like this because of that American tank..." Shisian, tears streaming down her face, threw down the bottle, muttering to herself, her voice choked with sobs, "If I had thought of a better way, I wouldn't be here, and Ipel wouldn't be dead..."
Seeing the female lieutenant in front of him already crying her eyes out, Caronville, overwhelmed with emotion, knew that words were powerless. He timidly reached out his arms and pulled the sobbing Shisian into his embrace.
Chapter 362, Section 460: The Sound of Dispute in Berlin
Suzaku Kururugi and Nunnally "returned" the guns and weapons to the highly unsafe people of Area 11. Naturally, Kyle would try his best to stop them, unless there was one exception: Kyle was not present when the bill was enacted, nor did he know about it immediately.
He returned to the 45th ward with the troops that had gone to Berlin, thinking he would tell his sister about the great benefits brought by the Guards' previous concerts—recruitment posters with photos of them on stage had already appeared on the streets of some districts.
To his surprise, upon entering the Capitol Building, he was greeted with a huge surprise: the enormous oil painting he had created for the siblings and the officers and soldiers was already displayed in the lobby at the main entrance, bathed in bright light.
Although she didn't say anything, seeing that her reflection in the drawing was not only back to her but also largely taken up by her sister—"When will I stop living in my sister's shadow forever..."
However, a loud bang from upstairs startled him and the two officers next to him. Soon after, they heard his sister arguing angrily from the stairs.
“You’d better move aside. Once my sister starts getting angry, no one can stop her.” Kelly shouted for everyone to move to the sides of the corridor. One slow-reacting guard blocked the way and was suddenly shoved away by Elizabeth. “Look, like this.”
"What happened, Saslair?" the prince called out to the duke, who was following his sister out. "Who else could make my sister so angry?"
"Don't even mention it, Your Highness." The Duke was sweating profusely, and it seemed he was also frightened during the argument in the conference room. "Marshal Douglas and Marshal Sophia, they've fallen out with Her Highness Elizabeth."
“Douglas? Manlist Douglas?” Kelly suddenly remembered—damn, when her sister was “discussing heroes over wine” with Schneizel in the capital, this guy who was very close to her brother was there, and he even brought his troops back to Area 11 with her.
“That’s right, it wasn’t just him alone, but he also brought several generals who were close to His Highness Schneizel and were present.” The Duke continued. “Their point is that now that the expeditionary force has been replenished and the rest have arrived or are preparing to arrive from District 11, the combat personnel alone number eight million, totaling more than eighty army groups and legions.”
"If so many people were concentrated in western and southern Germany and the North Union ground forces to fight, the front lines would definitely be too crowded. So they proposed that their troops should launch an attack on Czechoslovakia and Poland. They also gave a reason: for the first four months, the expeditionary force fought the Soviet Union every day and the core members were still alive. Why is it that now that the Soviet army has withdrawn so far from Berlin, they dare not take the initiative to attack?"
"Who the hell gave these idiots who just arrived in District 45 the courage to spout such nonsense?!" The last sentence nearly made Kylier explode again. "Even with their powerful brother, the Emperor, not around, they're this arrogant? If Schneizel were here, would he have ordered our entire army to retreat from the Western Front and fight the Soviets?"
"Actually, this topic wasn't started by the Marshal," the Duke reassured Kelly. "It started with Her Highness Elizabeth and the newly arrived Commander-in-Chief of the Sky Fleet, Marshal Sophia, disagreeing about the Sky Fleet's next mission."
As they were talking, Kelly saw a dignified but unfamiliar female marshal standing on the stairs in front of them, gazing in the direction Elizabeth had gone. The Duke pointed and said, "That's her, Your Highness."
"I've never seen you before, and I suppose neither has my sister." Calling the marshal closer, Kelly's lips practically pursed to her eyes. "What? Are you close to Marshal Manslit? Or to my brother Schneizel? You dare to argue with your sister as soon as you take office?"
"Please allow me to introduce myself, Sophia von Schulz." The Marshal did not answer immediately, but first bowed respectfully to the vice commander, whose rank was not very high. "Just now, I only raised some objections to Her Highness Elizabeth's strategy of using the Sky Fleet to strike the Northern Union Navy. I did not expect Marshal Manslitt to take this opportunity to make a big deal out of it. His Excellency the Duke can testify for me."