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Page 54
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"Comrade Colonel! Shall we take a look inside?"
“Of course!” The man in the blue hat nodded with a sneer, turning to look at the colonel. “You wouldn’t refuse, would you?”
“This is going too far, sir.” Colonel Tucker’s face turned serious. “May I ask, if I were to travel to your country, would there be a checkpoint every 100 yards to search me from head to toe?”
“If you pass through our checkpoint, we will indeed inspect all your belongings,” the blue-hatted officer sneered. “But then we will be inspecting your own items. And the officer’s previous attitude seems to suggest that this doesn’t belong to the USArmy, does it?”
"So what if it is? So what if it's not?"
"Then why don't you let us see inside? You don't need to be afraid of revealing anything. There shouldn't be any secrets here that belong to you. For innocent people, secrets dug out by force don't smell good."
"If I licked your steak while you were eating it, how would you feel?" the colonel began to argue. "If you don't mind, I can have the major accompany you inside, but let's skip the photos."
"Oh? Well then, since you were already somewhat reluctant, I'll just go along with it."
“Hammir,” Colonel Tucker called to the major.
"Understood, this way please, sir!" The major, wearing a blue hat, climbed onto the train carriage.
About a minute later, the two people who had entered the armored vehicle came out.
"Hmm, a good visit." The man in the blue hat patted the dust off his hands.
"Alright, Colonel, thank you for your cooperation, but I have one last, not-too-big, request."
"That's right. All that commotion at the station just now was because one of your soldiers hit my subordinate. So, I think it's necessary to let this culprit... ah, no, 'comrade who accidentally made a mistake' have his face shown on camera, how about that?"
“I have no objection to that, but I have one condition: you should understand why my child hit someone.”
"Oh? Please tell me."
"Without notifying us, you unilaterally forced your way onto our train to conduct what you call an inspection. If this gets out of my mouth and your Marshal Zhukov finds out, he will certainly not be happy about it."
"So my condition is very simple." The colonel pointed to the Soviet soldier who had just been dragged aside, "Let this train thief take a picture with our unruly Yankee boy, as a memento of this incident."
"What do you think of my suggestion?" The colonel raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it a good exchange of courtesy?"
"Hmm..." The smile finally disappeared from the man in the blue hat's face. "Alright, this time I'll listen to you."
"Paterson! Lift your face! Be confident!"
The two American and Soviet soldiers, with hardly any smiles on their faces, created this awkward scene in front of the camera that was set up in front of them.
"Very good, very good! Thank you for your cooperation."
"I hope that next time we meet, I will see your 'sincere' smile, not the guns of your men. Goodbye, sir."
After saying that, the two groups left.
"Well done, kid." The colonel patted the soldier on the shoulder. "Next time, remember, after you pull him down, stomp on the face of this kind of scum first."
“Yes, sir.” The soldier understood immediately.
"Hey! Colonel! How's it going?" Colonel Tucker looked up and saw a familiar figure waving at him from a carriage door—wasn't that Jonathan?
"My next task is to get a good night's sleep tonight!"
"I guarantee I'll complete the mission, Dad!"
“Well then, guys!” The sergeant sat down cross-legged and addressed Tommy, Carl, and the large group of strangers in the truck, “Let me tell you how I got my ticket on the flatbed truck!”
Section 64, Chapter 39: Cautious Dialogue, Sudden Change in Landscape
The train in Erfurt finally departed.
Meanwhile, the soldiers guarding Marshal Zhukov's command post could easily stand at the door, listening to the shells dancing in the western city, imagining how miserable the damned beasts were, and feeling immense pleasure in their hearts.
However, Marshal Zhukov had other things to do at this time.
On a highway leading south to the town, there was a green convoy. The marshal was sitting in one of the military vehicles, gazing into the distance with a blank expression, lost in thought.
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The lake beside it was calm and still, but its ethereal surface had become murky and confusing under the overcast sky.
Everyone was waiting to see the outcome, but no one could predict what the result would be.
The marshal frowned slightly as he looked at the dull lake surface, then turned his gaze back to the end of the road.
His destination was just ahead—Rüdesdorf.
Next to the town was a Soviet field airfield on a flat area, with rows of Il-2 attack aircraft lined up on both sides of the runway. Every wing, every propeller, and even every pair of landing gears was clearly visible.
However, the marshal also seemed to spot an unusual figure—he easily recognized it as a transport plane.
The fuselage is half again as long as the Il-2, and the wings, each with an engine, are more than twice the length of the latter. The belly is filled with gray-white, while most of the upper fuselage is painted olive green. There are several vertical black and white stripes on the fuselage near the tail and on the wings near the engines.
Perhaps because of the poor lighting, I couldn't see the white five-pointed star lying on top of the white stripes and blue discs, but I could already guess—an American C-47 transport plane must have flown in from Frankfurt. Last night, I received a call from there requesting a meeting with him here today.
Soon, the marshal's convoy stopped in front of a small building in the town.
"You've finally arrived, Comrade Marshal." As soon as I got out of the car, I saw a Soviet officer standing there.
"How many men did General Eisenhower bring? How long have they been here?" the marshal asked directly and bluntly.
“He only brought one person with him.” The officer led the way, and the marshal followed him into the house. “He and General Sokolovsky have been talking for more than an hour.”
"How's it going?"
"The US has repeatedly insisted that the troops attacking the Soviet forces were not from Western allies, and they are convinced that a third party was involved. The information provided by the US mentions that US troops stationed in Berlin, like us, were attacked by humanoid weapons made of steel and new armored vehicles."
"Has it been verified whether this is consistent with what we experienced?"
"According to the telegrams they provided, they described the enemy vehicles they encountered. Basically, the Iron Giants were generally four or five meters tall, most of them carried large-caliber machine guns, and a few carried weapons such as spears and rocket launchers. They were equipped with drive wheels on their feet, making them agile. It was also mentioned that the giants had a box-shaped object on their backs that resembled a cockpit, which seemed to detach itself when the main body of the vehicle was destroyed and fly away from the battlefield by launching rockets."
"So, it's the same as what we encountered in Berlin?"
"Completely identical, Marshal. The description of the armored vehicle remains unchanged: all-black paint, equipped with twin autocannons, three pairs of large wheels, and a hatch at the rear of the hull for carrying infantry."
"Where's the assault gun?"
"It also has three pairs of road wheels, and the turret is huge."
"So, the US military and we are both facing the same third party? That's a bit tricky."
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"Yes, and another piece of news we just received." The officer then handed Zhukov a telegram. "This is from Erfurt. The garrison says they stopped the American military train carrying an unidentified object. After inspection, the comrades from the Internal Affairs Department, comparing it with the photos we provided earlier, confirmed that the train was carrying a new type of armored vehicle and the wreckage of a steel giant."
"Signs of damage?"
"The armored vehicle was basically intact except for a few bullet holes, while the giant's remains were scattered and messy, with scratches and dents from friction and falls on the ground, as well as some bullet holes caused by large-caliber machine guns and small arms."
"Finally, during the inspection of the exterior of the two vehicles and the interior of the armored vehicles, apart from a few English words, no markings or insignia that could be related to the U.S. military were found."
"In that case, it does indeed look like spoils of war captured by the US military." Zhukov let out a long sigh.
"Alright, in that case, send a telegram to all Soviet units, instructing them to capture as many intact humanoid weapons and enemy documents as possible during the battle. At the same time, order the 8th Guards Army to capture as many enemy soldiers as possible during their feint attack at dawn tomorrow."
"Yes!"
Zhukov strode into the room and saw General Sokolovsky sitting at a table to the side. Upon seeing the marshal, he quickly put down the documents in his hand, stood up, and saluted him.
The marshal returned the greeting and then turned his gaze to the table opposite him—Eisenhower and another U.S. military officer, who slowly rose as they saw him arrive.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Marshal," Eisenhower greeted with a smile.
“I am also very pleased, General.”
After the ceremony, the Marshal went to the seat next to General Sokolovsky.
However, those few steps to the table felt like an eternity to the marshal...
Now, several old scenes flashed before his eyes unintentionally...
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At that moment, he stood side by side with Eisenhower, saluting the American and Soviet troops passing by with a serious expression.
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At that time, he stood in front of a group of camera lenses, being bombarded by flashes.
Eisenhower stood to his right, and further to his right was Field Marshal Montgomery, while to his left was General Tassini of France.
Behind the four people are the national flags of their respective countries.
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At that time, he stood among a large group of soldiers and officers from the United States, the Soviet Union and the United Kingdom. Except for the person on his left who had become General Arthur Ted of the British Army, his right side was still occupied by Eisenhower and Montgomery.
At that moment, all four of them, without exception, held up their wine glasses, looked up at the camera in the distance, and revealed slight smiles.
General Eisenhower whispered something in his ear.
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All of this happened in less than six months...
I had hoped for a more peaceful world after everything was over, but reality is just so hard to accept.
"Marshal?" Sokolovsky turned around and asked Zhukov, who had been sitting there in a daze for a long time.
"Um, cough..."
“My esteemed Marshal,” Ike spoke first, “about the information we provided?”
"Yes, I understand. So, that means there is indeed a so-called third-party force in Berlin, right?"
"Is such that."
"However, we've always had one question: why would this third-party force use English?"
“We are also puzzled, Mr. Field Marshal,” Eisenhower replied calmly. “Logically speaking, the largest English-speaking force in Berlin is our American army, with fewer than two thousand British and French troops with us. But we believe that English is widely spoken around the world, and we cannot rule out the possibility that a considerable force might be using English as cover.”
"Furthermore, Marshal," the general paused, "when we collected the identification tags of the 'Third Force' soldiers earlier, we discovered that although their names were all written in English, a considerable number of them were Arabic names, and some even had the structure of your Russian names. Therefore, I think we need to take the time to further investigate the identity of the 'Third Force'."
"In that case, there's nothing to object to."
"Hmph, are we fighting ourselves? How amusing," the marshal thought to himself.
"We will keep an eye on the identity verification process during the upcoming battle for Berlin. However, the previous agreement remains unchanged. If we cause any of your soldiers to be killed in Berlin, we will not be held responsible, and you will have no right to hold us accountable."
"Marshal, since our previous agreement remains unchanged, the Yalta Agreement should still be valid, right?"
"As long as the final outcome doesn't point to you, the original plan for dividing Berlin will remain unchanged. After all, we all hope this is just a misunderstanding, don't we?"
"Well, of course." The marshal gently placed one hand on the table, as if to emphasize something.
"If the final result is indeed the work of your US military, I think all agreements may have to be changed."
"That won't happen, Marshal Zhukov. We are very confident in the information and evidence we have provided."
“Very well then, this conversation seems to have gone very smoothly, General.” Zhukov slowly stood up. “If there’s nothing absolutely necessary, let’s call it a day.”
"Thank you." Eisenhower also left the table and extended his hand to Zhukov.
Seeing this, the marshal extended his right hand, ready to shake hands with him.
Everything was going so smoothly and peacefully, right?
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But then a Soviet officer suddenly ran in!
"Marshal! Urgent telegram from the garrison at Gastongen railway station!"
When Zhukov heard "Geistungen," his heart skipped a beat.