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Page 261
"What is this? An order?" He noticed a letter in the sergeant's jacket pocket.
“It was written to me by my brother. He took our father to Stockholm last night, and he and his crew are helping to settle the refugees who have entered the city and the suburbs.”
“Yes, I’ve met him. He’s my brother.” Jodman smiled. When he boarded the destroyer Joaquin during the evacuation of Bornholm Island, he made a little joke about the captain who looked almost exactly like the sergeant.
"By the way, I have some really good news for you, Colonel." Sergeant Lundgren sighed. "We might have a new enemy, right here in the streets of Stockholm, people who share our blood..."
……
While Swedish army officers and fighter pilots were busy dealing with the Britannian aircraft that were encroaching on their homeland, Lieutenant General Douglas, Commander-in-Chief of the Army, and Lieutenant General Nordensk, Commander-in-Chief of the Air Force, were also in a state of great distress in Copenhagen, flying a Union Jack alongside the Danish flag.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen. I am Harold Alexander, who recently came from Canada to assume command of the Northern Union forces in the Nordic theater." The British Field Marshal politely invited the two men to the map.
"I think you both sense that the Britannians are about to launch a landing in your country. Don't be too nervous; they certainly aren't coming to swallow up all of Sweden. So, according to our calculations, the most likely landing sites are in these two directions."
As he spoke, he first pointed to a small coastal town at the southern tip of Sweden.
"The Britannians' ultimate goal must be to seize the passage connecting the Baltic Sea and the North Sea. We British forces have now deployed six divisions in the Malmö and Helsingborg directions. If they land directly in Ustad, they will encounter the British forces head-on. At that time, we will use the support provided by the naval fleet to prevent them from occupying this place and planning to advance towards Denmark and Norway."
"Of course, they have a plan similar to a 'secret Normandy crossing'." The marshal pointed to Hanne Bay in the northeast. "Bornholm Island has now fallen into enemy hands, so they have the option to abandon the closer landing zone and conduct amphibious operations here."
"Compared to the previous strategy, this would put them further away from the strike range of British and American aircraft carriers, and the success or failure of the Soviet air force's backstab would also be affected by the garrison on that island. If they successfully projected enough troops here, they would be fully capable of cutting all the way west from here to Helsingborg, at which point a huge eagle's claw would be fully exposed on the other side of Copenhagen."
"So, my two generals, I hope the Swedish soldiers understand that abandoning the southern coastal headland is not cowardice. On the contrary, if you can go all out and defend Kristianstedt as the center, the more than 3,000 square kilometers of Swedish land that the Britannians have seized will sooner or later become their graveyard."
“We have full confidence in your strategy and the morale of the British troops, Marshal,” General Nordensk replied. “But this is something that the armies of both countries must face together.”
"In the previous battles over the Baltic Sea, we lost nearly 30% of the approximately two hundred P-51s and Spitfires provided by your country and the US military, and even lost a Vampire sold by the Royal Air Force. As for our own domestically produced fighters, they are either numerous but of such poor performance that they are already beyond repair, or new fighters have not yet reached a sufficient scale."
“That’s no problem, General.” Alexander handed over a form from the side. “The attack on enemy ships can be left entirely to us and the Americans. All you have to do is bleed them dry with air power.”
"Currently, we have more than 300 fighter jets that can be used as supplements in the Nordic direction. These include Hurricane, Spitfire, P-38, P-39, P-40 and F4F Wildcat. The plan is to allocate them to you, Denmark and Norway. The US military also has several F6F Hellcat squadrons stationed on the Jutland Peninsula. These can all be prioritized to meet your needs for defending Hanne Bay."
"What you need to do is not to launch an offensive, and the same goes for the army. Your Swedish troop strength and terrain conditions are not suitable for an open tank war like the US and the USSR. Instead, rely on forests and hills to fight back with fixed firing points. If you don't have enough artillery and heavy weapons, we can transport some to you. Also, it's time to learn from your Finnish friends."
“In that case, let’s ask one last question.” The two Swedish generals exchanged glances and looked at Alexander. “If the Britannian campaign plan matches what you’ve written, but they can manage to attack on two fronts simultaneously and deploy far more troops than expected?”
“Paying too much attention to Northern Europe means they’re neglecting their duties in Germany, you two.” Alexander shook his head. “They…”
"That's not what I meant, Marshal. I meant that while ensuring we maintain the upper hand in our confrontations with the American and British forces stationed in Germany, and even being able to send troops to Poland, we can simultaneously commit a large number of troops to Northern Europe and suppress air support from other powers, including the Soviet Union... If this is the strength of our opponent, what should we do? What else can we do?"
Alexander paused, then lowered his head and slowly removed his glasses. Across the strait from Copenhagen, the wailing of air raid sirens echoed.
"Let's fight to the death, sir, just like I did in Dunkirk six years ago..."
Chapter 365, Section 464: The Prelude to the Catastrophe of the Kingdom of Sweden (Part 1)
[022 Friendly Reminder: The opening paragraph can be enjoyed with the Call of Duty 4 soundtrack "Armada Start v10," but it's not recommended to pair it with the Valkyrie's riding theme from Apocalypse Modern.]
The cold, icy warships mercilessly cleaved through the blue waters, their artillery fire roaring like a hurricane. Hundreds of armed transport planes and KMF aircraft swept across the land like a black swarm of locusts, robbing the sun of its light at the sea-land boundary—the once calm Baltic Sea was now churning with raging waves like a flood.
Eight Britannian Navy destroyers lined up around the convoy of transport ships and landing craft, their foredeck gun barrels pointing straight to the sides. Shells leaped from their chambers, flying over the heads of countless soldiers heading toward the beach in landing craft, landing first on the once peaceful Swedish soil.
Even the birds kept by the Swedes would never dare to stand on the harbor embankment of Jüstad and calmly watch this large group of strange guests from another world visit their hometown, which had been peaceful for decades.
Shells exploded in the farmland and pastures, on both sides of the town's roads. The low rumble of engines, like cumulonimbus clouds, echoed across the beaches of the town, where the first foreign footprints were left by the Swedish people who were reluctant to leave their homes and were desperately looking up and lamenting. The storm swept in like a tempest towards the inland of their homeland.
"Report: We have not found any hostile forces resisting outside Yustad and are continuing to advance inland to encircle the city."
"So alike, so very alike." It was time for General Trosa to lead another landing operation. She sat comfortably in a naval submarine, listening to the news from the landing troops, and couldn't help but think of how Britannia had destroyed Japan eight years ago.
“Who can argue with that?” The commander of the landing fleet was a naval admiral named Amatullah—in Britannia, where even blacks could serve as Knights of the Round Table, it wasn’t surprising to have an Arab fleet commander.
Amatula had just retrieved a photo album from the captain's cabin. She had collected a lot of firsthand footage of the Empire's arrival on Honshu Island, including photos of the now unrecognizable Kamakura Great Buddha—when the first fully armed Imperial fighter plane flew into Japanese airspace, countless civilians and tourists took photos in front of this national treasure.
"Sir, what do you think the 45th District fleet that recently sailed north of Bornholm Island is all about?"
"Ha." Amatulla shrugged resentfully. "If Duke Rabinowitz had half my decisiveness, none of this nonsense would have happened today."
Yes, during the Battle of the Southern Scandinavia, it was the Duke who ordered "preserving strength for future amphibious operations," and in the end, he stopped Amatulla's fierce attack, letting the Northern Union assault fleet, centered around three American and British battleships, escape. From then on, she would complain from time to time, "If it weren't for the amphibious operations, none of the people in District 45 would have a ship to return."
“Warships aren’t just for destroying enemy warships, General.” Trosa smiled, patted Amatulla on the shoulder, and went to the porthole. “If you had the chance to have your flagship sail into a Swedish naval base, you certainly wouldn’t miss it, and you might even want to stand on the foredeck and compose a poem.”
……
It wasn't just ships that launched the landings in Sweden.
Hundreds of armed transport planes, carrying cargo holds containing several times their own number of KMFs and their necessary supplies, flew to a location dozens of kilometers from the coast.
The Royal Navy's carrier-based aircraft had not yet arrived to intercept them, and the Swedish land beneath the planes was devoid of any anti-aircraft fire, consisting entirely of farmland and pastures still shrouded in scorched earth, with the rising black smoke carrying the smell of unripe barley and oats and discarded animal feed.
Tsk tsk, it's a waste that Scandinavia has so few fertile and vast lands.
"Calling Lieutenant Colonel Valar, enemy aircraft are approaching from above at two o'clock. Be prepared for defensive fire." As the leader of the transport planes, he received the message while the escorting air force KMFs had already begun to climb.
"Two o'clock? What's that in the 11 o'clock direction?" Valar sensed a flat, shimmering metallic object in the sky opposite the direction the sun was rising.
Before it could even take a few more glances, it suddenly swooped down and headed straight for the lieutenant colonel's aircraft, revealing a familiar vampire fang—four Hispano cannons opened fire simultaneously from the lower front of the spindle-shaped fuselage, tearing a huge gash in the top of the fuselage.
Unlike the conventional cross-shaped layout of the Meteor, this "spindle" fighter's two wings extend rearwards into a pair of parallel tail booms, connected at the ends by a large tail fin, forming a hollow rectangle centered on the jet nozzles. For a jet fighter from Area 45, the difference in appearance is striking.
"Damn it, how many more of these monsters do the Swedes have?" The co-pilot sat next to Vallar, watching the strangely shaped "phoenix" and the Swedish Air Force's three-crown insignia on its wings, leaping like a rabbit among the massive, elephant-like armed transport planes, leaving the slowly pursuing Sunderland and Gloucester far behind.
"Let's see how much the British will give them."
"The British? You mean the imposters in District 45 gave it to the Swedes?"
“I encountered it three days ago during a bombing mission in Hanover, but it was painted with concentric circle insignia.” Valar looked over with disdain. “You don’t really think the Swedes who buy P-51s from the US have the ability to export something like this to those guys who send bombers over every other day, do you?”
As they were talking, they suddenly felt the plane beneath them shudder violently, and a rattling noise came from the cargo hold behind them.
"It's bad, Captain! The cargo hold is severely depressurized!" Looking at the huge hole torn open by the jet overhead, the crew members and the KMF pilots waiting to land were thrown into chaos by the howling wind and gusts of wind.
In a moment of desperation, a female pilot braved the turbulence blowing into the cabin and desperately crawled her vehicle through the breach. With her back to the rupture, she clung tightly to the cabin with her limbs, blocking the cockpit on her back.
"Are you alright, sister?" Valar asked anxiously.
“I’ve patched the breach, Captain! Keep flying!” the pilot replied over the noisy radio. “Get my brothers and sisters to the drop zone! You must return safely too!”
Vallar was somewhat bewildered by this turn of events, but thankfully, they soon spotted the mountain road, considered a vital transportation route. Of course, the Swedish anti-aircraft artillery stationed there finally opened fire.
Immediately afterwards, the KMFs in the cabin, along with the soldiers in the surrounding transport planes, jumped out of the cabin. The girl, who had been holding her aircraft tightly against the breach in the plane, also activated the KMF's ejection system after leaving Valar with a wish for good luck.
"In the name of His Majesty the Emperor, I hope you survive." Looking down at the direction the cockpit ejected, he deployed a parachute just like the rest of the KMFs. With a sigh of relief, Valar began the next task: leading the team back through the black smoke of the anti-aircraft guns.
……
"All units are free to fire! I repeat! Free to fire!"
Heavy snow and rime ice are sights only seen in Scandinavia during winter. But when hundreds of white parasols fall from the sky like snow in July, it brings only a catastrophe that terrifies every Swede.
Colonel Jodman could no longer hide his unease. He had completely lost the patience to wait for the radio in the command post and had the communications officer carry the radio with him as he personally walked through the trenches to give orders.
In the past few days, the officers and soldiers of the East Gotland Air Defense Regiment have been working hard to dig countless trenches reinforced with logs in the woodland, and to build anti-aircraft gun positions protected by sandbags in the clearings and undulating hills.
To protect one of the vital passageways for Sweden's survival, they handed over everything of value in the armory—Bofors' 40mm and 75mm anti-aircraft guns, and even a significant portion of the 25mm naval anti-aircraft guns that survived the disaster at the Karlsruhe naval base and were salvaged from the sunken warships.
Fortunately, it was their anti-aircraft regiment that withstood the heavy blow from the Britannian Empire. If it had been the infantrymen with rifles facing these four- or five-meter-tall air-dropped humanoid armored vehicles, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
"Damn it!" Just as he was running around in the trenches, he suddenly heard the sound of explosions from the distant trenches, along with the curses of the Swedish soldiers, coming through Jodman's receiver. "Colonel! This is Lunger! The Britannian Nutcrackers are firing at us with big guns in the woods!"
As the colonel hurried toward the trench where the former was, he radioed headquarters—thankfully, this time there was a reply.
"Listen up, Lunger!" Jodman ordered the sergeant, "Have all nearby small-caliber anti-aircraft gun positions fire tracer rounds at the enemy's forested area, and deploy green smoke screens in your area. Air support is on its way!"
In an instant, the Swedish anti-aircraft artillerymen, who had just been busy pointing their guns at the sky, turned their muzzles down to aim at the giant, flickering figures in the forest. Countless bullets rained down on the slightly yellowed grass, forming a scissor-like blade emerging from the green smoke, cutting down tree after tree of broadleaf trees that had served as a natural barrier.
However, when the sound of propellers filled the air overhead, no one felt excited. About ten F2A Buffalo fighter jets, painted with Finnish Air Force insignia, swept across the forest with the muzzle blasts of their 75mm anti-aircraft guns, firing their only four 12.7mm machine guns. After dropping the two 100-pound bombs hanging from their wings, they quickly pulled up.
This bucket of cold water almost killed Lundgren and his men—if it weren't for a group of 75mm anti-aircraft gunners disobeying orders, lowering their gun barrels, and firing at full speed to clean up the mess left by the 100-pound bomb.
"What the hell?!" Colonel Jodman frowned as he looked at the scene. When he looked up again, he saw a large squadron of JU88 and Saab 17 bombers, escorted by Swedish and Finnish Air Force fighters, flying away from them at an altitude of nearly 10,000 meters. He was so angry that his nose almost popped out.
"I understand your situation, Colonel!" Only futile words of comfort came from Stockholm over the radio. "They have more important tasks at hand, and this has already been coordinated with the Soviet forces. Additional support will arrive when the time is right. Please be patient!"
"Holy crap! What the hell do 'suitable' and 'patience' mean?!"
……
While the Britannian navy was still busy unloading supplies from transport ships and landing craft, the Soviet air force from the east launched its attack.
First, the fighter jets painted with red stars arrived first and engaged in a fierce battle with the escorting KMF aircraft. In the gaps between the aerial melee, Il-2 and Pe-2 attack aircraft, carrying rockets, glided and aimed their sights at the missile destroyers and various transport ships.
"Damn it, shoot them down! Shoot down all these old Russians who are always holed up on the other side of the Oder River!" General Amatullah was furious and anxious as he directed the fleet to make evasive maneuvers as rockets rained down on the ships around them. Since the flagship had not yet completed its armament upgrades, the KMFs could only squeeze into the side hatches to lay out anti-aircraft fire nets with machine guns.
The wakes of the missile destroyers were chaotic. The pilots who opened fire were clearly a group of veterans traumatized by the shadow of Soviet fighter planes in the past. Seeing the Il-2s that used to haunt them like the Grim Reaper in the sky, they immediately lost their footing. The warship suddenly made a full turn, and several KMFs lost their balance and fell into the sea from the listing warship.
That wasn't all. They were so focused on the fighter jets swooping down from the sky that they almost forgot about a group of figures skimming the sea surface—several squadrons of Il-4 bombers painted with the Red Navy insignia were heading straight for them, dropping a 450mm torpedo from under their fuselages into the sea.
"Bastards! Bastards!" Amatulla personally steered the ship, narrowly dodging the torpedoes while yelling at the receding figure of the Il-4, "Why do all the people from District 45 use the same torpedo-throwing tricks as the people from District 11! Can't you come up with something new!"
"Your Excellency!" Trosa, who had been watching the landing fleet from the porthole, called out—she seemed to see something ominous rushing down from the sky.
During the less than three days of fighting on Bornholm Island, Trossa had heard of this aircraft, which had two propellers and could dive at almost 90 degrees. Its wings were painted with insignia that were different from those of the United States, the Soviet Union, and the United Kingdom, and it did not have the three crowns of the Swedes.
Before she could even get a good look at the white and blue rings on the wings of the two planes, four 500-kilogram bombs hanging on the fuselage of the two planes roared down towards a large ship loaded with tanks and KMFs.
In an instant, the cargo and the torn hull on the ship were reduced to a sea of fire and countless flying fragments in the explosion. Two Finnish Air Force JU88 bombers, just beginning to show their prowess, rose from the sea with their backs to the rapidly sinking transport ship, flashed past Trossa and flew away into the distance.
Chapter 366, Section 465: The Prelude to the Catastrophe of the Kingdom of Sweden (Part 2)
Before World War II, the king was the commander-in-chief of the Swedish armed forces. The current king, Gustav V, became the last king to hold this position under the system, and his position was subsequently taken over by a military post called "Supreme Commander".
General Hech, the second supreme commander of the Swedish army, had just come out of a house in Stockholm crowded with Swedish and Finnish officers—where the high command of the two countries had established a joint command for frontline coordination before the Britannian invasion began.
I endured the anxiety until the first night my homeland was invaded; the summer sky in Northern Europe was still pale.
The general gathered all the information from the front lines and the rear, and then dialed the phone in Helsinki, across the Baltic Sea, to General Arne, who had succeeded Marshal Mannerheim as Commander-in-Chief of the Finnish Defence Forces—now Finland could only hope that he would reciprocate Sweden's aid for the Winter War.
……
"I can hardly believe it myself, we haven't messed things up too badly in the past 24 hours." Haiqi couldn't help but chuckle bitterly on the phone. "The young men in the Air Force did a really good job. We sank at least five of their transport ships and landing ships, as well as about ten small boats. As for the enemy's warships, the Soviets took one out with torpedoes."
“On behalf of President Bashikiwi, I offer my congratulations, but I believe the enemy still has enough supplies that have landed, right?” Arne, though pleased, remained mostly calm. “Where have their landing forces advanced, General?”
“The British troops in the Malmö direction haven’t engaged them yet, but their vanguard has already moved north and engaged our soldiers.” Hitch gasped. “That’s not all. They’ve also thrown at least three or four hundred iron puppets into our second line. The soldiers are in a real bind. They don’t have enough portable weapons to go deep into the forest to deal with these elusive bad guys.”
“We can airlift about a hundred L-39 anti-tank rifles over, right now.”
"Thank you so much. I don't understand why the Americans couldn't just stuff a few rocket launchers or even German anti-tank rifles into the cockpit when they transported the tanks."
Hachi scratched his head and then got to the point.
"I just spoke with your air force personnel, and we've decided to launch a surprise attack tomorrow at sunrise on the enemy's landed supplies and near-shore convoys. When can you send more bomber squadrons?"
“We can launch an attack at dawn tomorrow with our allies who took off from Sweden and then return, but I don’t mind if you do that, General.” Arne shook his head over the phone. “Tomorrow morning is when they are most vigilant. The enemy may already be preparing to set a trap. So rather than focusing on counter-landing, it would be better to devote some energy to finding and eliminating the scattered enemy forces in the airdrop zone to prevent future troubles.”
"Could you transfer me to the British side? I'm more concerned about the current status of their carrier battle group."
……
The Swedish soldiers were destined to have a sleepless night; just after 10 p.m., the sun had barely dipped below the horizon in the direction of the North Sea.
"New orders, Colonel. A batch of Finnish transport planes will be airdropping supplies in our northeastern defense zone in one hour. We are advised to avoid friendly fire."
Jodman, suffering from a headache and fever, glanced impatiently at the telegram sent down from his superiors. He was now facing a "gift" that both delighted and infuriated him.
"Tell me! What is your battle plan!" He shouted at the strangely dressed girl in front of him, enunciating the slightly unfamiliar English words.
This brings us to the afternoon when a group of Swedish soldiers discovered an "iron box" in the woods—yes, it was the cockpit of the KMF, which wasn't attached to the backs of those tall mannequins, but parachuted down directly.
After that, they captured the Britannian female soldier with almost no effort.
"To be honest, we Swedes have great respect for women." However, after passing through several hands, from sergeant to captain to colonel, no one could get her to talk. "But we also dislike people who don't know how to reciprocate."
“I also have people I don’t like, the kind who dawdle and beg.” Even with her face a bloody mess, she refused to bow her head. No one could understand where this female soldier named Mavis got her stubbornness from—if the Swedish soldiers who grabbed her hadn’t reacted quickly and snatched the ID card she was about to swallow, they probably wouldn’t even know her name. “Stop wasting your breath, just give me a quick death?”
It was all nonsense again, but the colonel vaguely understood something—if they could remain so steadfast, what if every Britannian who was parachuted in was like that? In other words, they might be facing a group of seasoned veterans who had crawled over the corpses of American and Soviet soldiers.
Just as he was about to give the order to take her away and put her under guard, the female soldier suddenly used her last bit of strength to stab herself in the throat with the bayonet of a Swedish soldier's rifle that was pointed at her.
"Damn it!" Yodman was furious as he looked at the female soldier covered in blood. "Medic! Medic!"
……
As darkness finally fell in Northern Europe, it gave some Britannian soldiers hiding in the forest a chance to set off.