The sound of gunfire within the castle was completely drowned out by the chaotic noises of artillery and explosions from outside. German paratroopers armed with Scott revolvers and Lee-Enfield rifles easily cleared the hallways and side rooms, where most officers were unarmed.
Logan had no intention of actually harming the British secretary who had fainted from fear. Leading his soldiers, he charged towards the double wooden doors.
Bang!
As Enke Richter, an Air Force private with the same surname as the legendary German ace "Red Baron," kicked open the wooden doors, he was immediately shot in the chest by bullets fired from inside!
Seeing his comrade writhing in pain on the ground, Logan flew into a rage. He fired his gun four times at the wooden doors, and the paratroopers also began shooting through the doors. Gunfire echoed through the hall, and paratroopers near the doors dragged their wounded comrades to safety amidst the chaos.
"Throw a grenade!" Logan knew from watching war movies that swift and decisive action was key. At his command, Tobias retrieved a British No. 36 Mills bomb, pulled the pin, and tossed it towards the wooden doors. Everyone quickly found cover.
Boom...
The explosion in the confined space was deafening. Logan was the first to leap from behind the table, brandishing his newly loaded revolver as he rushed through the blown-open doors. His comrades followed closely behind, rifles at the ready. Amidst the intense smell of gunpowder, they fired at anyone they saw breathing – capturing prisoners was not the objective of Operation Potassium, it was to neutralize the Allied command.
One minute later, the paratroopers emptied their magazines, and the battle was over. In the conference room filled with scattered documents, Logan counted twelve bodies. To his speechless surprise, among the British and French officers, the lowest rank was that of a Major!
He inspected them one by one and quickly found Gott, the burly British officer with a thick mustache. The viscount had been shot in the head, and before dying, he likely felt little pain; his golden insignia was now stained red with blood.
"Sir, here's another British general, seems to be a major general!" Air Force private Hunter pointed to a body near the overturned conference table.
Logan glanced at his epaulets – a sword topped with a crown. Indeed, he was a Major General! What a windfall!
Unlike typical lottery winners, although Logan was excited, he managed to maintain a calm demeanor.
"Tobias, take a team to clean up the battlefield outside. We should find the British's codebook. Others, search these guys' documents and see how many big fish we've caught this time!"
In no time, twelve documents were laid out in front of Logan. Leading the pack was John Verric, a British Army general, better known as Viscount Gott; followed closely by British Major General Henry Bonar, the chief of staff of the British Expeditionary Force. Additionally, there were British Brigadier Generals Douglas Brickie, Cuth Wilms, Colonel Thomas Ling, and Royal Navy Colonel Keith Troy, Major Cedric Castner. If there were any regrets, it was that the commanders of the British Expeditionary Force, John Dill and Alan Brooke, were absent. Otherwise, this stranded British force would truly be leaderless!
On the French side, Logan struggled to recognize individuals but managed to identify Yves Gardi, a French Army general; Abirram Jabir, a French Army brigadier general; Thomas Josser, a French Army colonel; and Nicolas Laubary, a French Army major. The last one caught his attention. As he read the rank, he almost jumped up in surprise: another general, a French Army general!
The name on the document was Charles Brown.
The newly appointed commander of the French First Army Group!
With limited information at his disposal, Logan had seen the names of Allied senior commanders in some intelligence reports. Although this Brown appeared insignificant in French military and political circles, he seemed like a capable man who got things done!
After inspecting the documents, Logan suddenly felt like he was dreaming. With only 19 German paratroopers, less than five minutes of fighting, they had captured two British and French major generals, two brigadier generals, two colonels, and a dozen other officers. Such a harvest was unprecedented! How would this brief five minutes affect the entire course of World War II?
Logan couldn't continue to imagine and even felt dizzy. Although surgically attacking the enemy command was the ultimate goal of Operation Potassium, everything happened too suddenly and too easily! Especially these unexpected French generals, if they had stayed in their own territories instead of running to the headquarters of the British Expeditionary Force, they might not have met such misfortune!
And what about these scattered and chaotic documents? How many were important for the outcome of the battle?
In no time, Tobias excitedly ran in. "Sir! Look what I found!"
Turning around, Logan saw him holding a black notebook in his hand. Was it more precious than the Bible?
"A codebook?"
After a moment, the excitement on Logan's face was replaced by an evil smile!
"The defenders of the Fabeau border are... the British Expeditionary Force's 3rd and 5th Divisions. Okay, tell them to move south immediately, the French will fill their gaps! Hehehe, and here, the Loic-Woin line, the British 4th and 50th Divisions. Tell them to withdraw their main forces to the east to fill the gaps left by the French, hmm! Tell them that those damn French have been beaten and the front lines are crumbling! They must act immediately! Oh, and here, it should be the elite forces of the 1st Division, ahaha, and the 1st Royal Tank Regiment? Tell them to immediately abandon their positions and retreat to the rear. Why? Their flanks are not secure! Organize defense in a circular formation outside Dunkirk!"
Standing on a ladder, Logan gleefully displayed his "talents" in military command while at the same time, Sergeant Karen Molt, a German paratrooper proficient in radio technology, used the captured codebook and intact transmitter in the main hall to send out these confusing orders to various British units stationed in Dunkirk.
"Oh, right! We should also send a gift to Churchill! Hehehe, send a message to the British Joint Command, informing them that the German troops occupying Calais seem to be under attack from the rear by French forces, and the front line is wavering! I strongly recommend postponing the generator operation; we will organize a powerful assault. Once successful, the entire situation will be reversed! Long live Britain! Long live France!"
As he spoke, Logan, standing on the ladder, excitedly gestured as if he could already see Churchill's angry expression upon realizing he had been fooled.
"Lieutenant! Lieutenant!"
A German paratrooper rushed in, panting heavily, holding a Lee-Enfield No. 4 rifle. "A group of men is advancing from the mountainside towards here!"
As he finished speaking, the sound of Browning machine guns could be heard from outside.
"Alright, the game ends here!" Logan descended from the ladder in three quick steps, very decisively instructing his subordinates, "Smash the telegraph and telephone machines here, and don't leave any documents; burn them all!"
Tobias led the paratroopers into action, setting fires and causing destruction. It seemed to have become another specialty of his, besides piloting gliders.
"What about these women?" A paratrooper pointed to the British female secretaries huddled in the corner, trembling.
"We're men, we don't hit women!" Logan casually walked out, speaking in English. The female secretaries seemed to have heard him, tears welling up in their eyes: they had finally seen a modern gentleman!
As Logan, with bandages still wrapped around his head, led a few paratroopers to the entrance of the castle, they could see Lieutenant Stephenberg leading his two machine gun teams, firing as they retreated. Flames leaped from below the slope, and occasional crimson sparks flew past.
"How do you use this thing?" Logan pointed to the Vickers Mark I water-cooled heavy machine gun behind sandbags.
Groth volunteered and stepped forward. With a click, he opened the bolt, gripped the firing handle with both hands, adjusted the muzzle slightly, and the machine gun roared to life.
"Not bad!"
Following suit, Logan picked up another heavy machine gun. With a little effort, the Vickers Mark I began operating in his hands. Whether it was the continuous gunfire or the sound of shell casings falling onto the flagstones, to this inexperienced soldier, they were all pleasantly crisp sounds! Despite the intense recoil making it difficult for him to accurately control his aim, the dense stream of bullets poured down the slope, immediately suppressing the enemy's firepower.
Taking advantage of this moment, Stephenberg led his soldiers back.
"Out through the back door!" Logan coolly nodded, as if he were about to engage in a final battle with the British here. But as soon as the ammunition ran out, he immediately led Groth without looking back, running into the castle. Before this, the clever Tobias had already found the way out: the back of the castle was a steep slope, impassable for large forces, but a small team could retreat to the city along the path in just a few minutes.
When they met up with the others, Logan noticed Tobias carrying a stack of documents, while two paratroopers beside him were struggling to carry an old typewriter. He curiously asked the reason.
"A typewriter, documents, and this!" Tobias pulled out a round, metallic seal from his pocket.
"You're a devil!" Seeing the text and symbols on the seal, Logan praised with delight. As the saying goes, soldiers learn from each other, and with these paratroopers, it seemed they had already received the true teachings despite working together for only a short time!