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Chapter 50: While You're Ill, They Want Your Life

Artillery illumination shells primarily made from magnesium powder and aluminum powder. The cost is just slightly higher than regular shells. It seems that the Germans on the shore had already considered the possibility of night combat before the landing. They not only carried this equipment in limited supply situations, but also in considerable quantity. In half an hour, they fired at least one hundred and fifty shells into the sky over this sea area, and... the 88mm heavy anti-aircraft guns, which easily dealt with Allied tanks like opening a can, played the role of fireworks launchers here. I wonder if Krupp's engineers, upon learning this, would feel secretly proud.

Another wave of shells came whistling from the sea, nearly forty shells fired from 152mm and 120mm caliber naval guns, even solid shots from the Napoleonic era would suffice to cause considerable damage to the German troops on the shore. However, the British consistently overlooked one thing — their naval guns fired at a low angle, reducing the probability of shells landing in German artillery emplacements compared to German howitzers hitting ships, making the artillery battle asymmetric from the start!

British high-explosive shells fell into the muddy fields, eventually erupting into intense explosions that oppressed the surroundings. Although they couldn't directly kill, shells landing nearby were enough to injure, stun, or even kill German artillerymen in their emplacements.

In half an hour, Pet sent a reserve unit to the position, meaning that about 50 gunners lost their combat effectiveness for various reasons. Only three artillery pieces were severely damaged, with only one completely destroyed. The armor-piercing and armor-penetrating shells that were shipped ashore with the artillery units had dwindled, and although high-explosive shells could damage deck targets and destroy upper structures, they could not achieve a lasting effect — British shipyards were adept at repairs!

The anticipated replenishment of ammunition had not yet arrived. Watching the nearly crippled British destroyer in sight, Pet thought for a moment and ordered the artillery to cease fire and turn their barrels northward. At this moment, the British landing forces moving south from Wootton were still being held back in the fields an hour away from Port-en-Bessin, hoping for the British fleet at sea to clear the way for them, but unfortunately, the proud Royal Navy was struggling to ensure its own survival!

The guns fell silent, and the wind rose. On the tall masts, a tattered Union Jack naval flag still fluttered.

With a heavy heart, Royal Navy Lieutenant Anthony personally pushed open the heavy hatch and stepped onto the bridge filled with strange smells. The heavy rain had washed away the blood from the deck, but where the first shell had fallen, the steel armor had caved in, and the railings were twisted into strange shapes.

On the forward deck, two 6-inch naval guns were ordered to cease fire, and gunners were busy moving the bodies of the fallen into the compartments. A large pile of shell casings rolled down beside the gun mount, but the sustained bombardment failed to achieve the expected results.

Would this fleet still be in such a predicament if it were commanded by the seasoned old captain, Beller?

Turning around, Anthony looked past the wreckage of the midsection and aft deck to see the smoke rising from the stern of HMS Punjabi. Every main gun on the destroyer still stubbornly pointed towards the coast. For hundreds of years, whether in the age of sail, the steam era, or the current age of internal combustion engines, the Royal Navy not only fought against enemies but also battled against harsh weather. They had grown accustomed to it all, a pride and resilience that the humble could never understand!

Although the enemy before them was not only unprecedentedly powerful but also ambitious, intending to conquer all, their strength still lay in the army and air force rather than the navy.

Further ahead, the "Punjabi," now significantly slowed in speed, a tribal-class destroyer only two years old, with a full displacement of 2559 tons, equivalent to a cruiser of a naval weak nation, boasting four twin 120mm naval guns and a quadruple torpedo tube launcher. With a total engine power of 44,000 horsepower, it could reach a top speed of 36 knots in calm seas, possessing a dual advantage in speed and firepower when fighting any contemporary destroyer.

Even tigers are vulnerable to a rain of arrows, a scene that cannot help but evoke feelings of the fickleness of fate.

The "Jackal," nearly a size smaller, slowly approached, now a wounded beast. Yet the deck of the "Punjabi" still stood a step higher, sailors looked on in bewilderment as their comrades sailed past, until sailors from the "Jackal" threw a line from the stern, hastily tying it to the bow of the "Punjabi" — towing a destroyer with another was not difficult, as long as they avoided combat, slowly making their way back to port was no issue.

Struggling to tow their companion, smoke billowed from the funnel of the "Jackal," evident that while it could have cut through the waves with ease, it now struggled to turn at less than 10 knots, while the "Benedict" and the remaining four destroyers, along with one escort, remained like faithful guards on this stretch of sea.

Suddenly, gunfire erupted from the direction of the coast, yet no shells fell. The tense hearts relaxed slightly, but Anthony quickly realized that their army comrades on the island were about to face considerable casualties from nearly thirty medium-caliber howitzers! Perhaps by tomorrow morning, Londoners would learn of the heavy losses and retreat of their landing forces, while the British bombardment fleet of eight warships, with a total tonnage of nearly 20,000, not only achieved nothing overnight but also suffered the loss of one heavily damaged ship and several others wounded by the German field artillery barrage.

Thinking of his own bleak future, Anthony sighed heavily and ordered the remaining six warships to once again launch an attack on the German artillery positions!

 

British officers and soldiers, still wearing summer uniforms and baring their arms and legs, bravely launched wave after wave of attacks on the German positions in the pouring rain. However, under the combined onslaught of German machine guns, mortars, and infantry artillery, the front of the position was littered with the bodies of British infantrymen, and more than a dozen Matilda tanks failed to break through the German defenses. Meanwhile, several 88mm guns hidden on the flanks of the position, with armor-piercing shells capable of destroying tanks and high-explosive shells capable of hitting infantry, proved to be formidable defensive weapons!

The frontline headquarters of the British was set up under a small hill opposite the German positions, the tan-colored tents inconspicuous under the night sky, with two wire-free telephones and three telephone sets, several black telephone wires wrapped around a small table made of empty ammunition boxes.

The rain pattered on the tent roof, but the noisy sound still couldn't drown out the commands coming from afar:

"King's Cheshire Regiment, 2nd Battalion, 1st Company, fall in!"

"King's Cheshire Regiment, 2nd Battalion, 2nd Company, fall in!"

"East and West Riding Regiment, 1st Battalion, 3rd Company, assemble!"

"Lancashire and Cumberland Volunteers Regiment, 1st Battalion, 1st Company, assemble!"

The commander, with gray hair, knew that another large batch of brave British soldiers was about to launch an attack, but the German positions seemed like demons lurking in the dark, devouring Britain's most precious wealth, and on their side, even with two artillery battalions doing their best, they still couldn't shake those seemingly "paper-thin defenses," and instead, whenever their infantry launched an attack, they were met with fierce artillery bombardment from the German side, often retreating before reaching the German positions!

Pacing anxiously, he turned to the communications officer and shouted, "Send a message to the navy, requesting the most intense artillery fire on the German positions. Confirm the coordinates for the bombardment with them; the German trenches won't grow legs and run away! I need at least half an hour of fire suppression... no, a quarter of an hour is enough!"

The communications officer sent the message word for word — at this moment, this was all he could do.

"Report!" A soaking wet young officer appeared at the entrance of the tent, panting heavily.

"Come in!" Despite his bad mood, the commander did not show any signs of frustration towards his subordinate, his tone remained relatively mild.

The officer took off his dripping wet cap, not bothering to tidy his hair, and reported, "Sir, the two Matildas from the tank battalion that broke down halfway just arrived. They're ready to join the assault at any moment!"

This should have been good news. But there was no trace of joy on the commander's face.

"Assign them to Major Hunt's assault team!" He said it calmly.

The young officer, wearing the rank insignia of an Army captain, hesitated for a moment and suggested, "Sir, the frontal defense of the Germans is very strong. Why don't we try other methods?"

"Other methods? Flanking maneuvers?" The commander, not very tall and slightly stooped, shook his head decisively. "We must be prepared to defend our flanks at all times. The German forces stationed in Newport could break out from our rear at any moment!"

Stepping forward two steps, the young officer pointed to the map and said, "That's why we have kept two infantry companies as diversionary forces in that direction. Why not request from higher-ups to have our allies launch a feint attack from Yarmouth and Coase, withdraw one infantry company from the rear, and concentrate all reserve forces on our side, quickly maneuvering from the right flank of the German positions to attack the weak side of the German defenses!"

After considering for a moment, the commander asked tepidly, "How do you know that's the weak side of the German defenses?"

The young officer confidently analyzed, "The German forces are limited, facing our repeated attacks, they must have deployed their main forces in this direction — even if they don't enter the frontline positions, they should be ready behind the lines!"

On the map, there was indeed a narrow corridor two kilometers wide between the German perimeter defenses in Newport and Port-en-Bessin, although it was within the range of German artillery, as long as they could maneuver quickly, it wouldn't be difficult to circle around to the German rear defenses in Port-en-Bessin. According to aerial reconnaissance, the Germans had also cautiously constructed defenses in that direction, but the thickness of the defensive line there was significantly weaker than the northern side. If the Germans had indeed concentrated their defensive forces on the front, then it could indeed be an opportunity!

The commander, experienced and wise, analyzed with his usual calmness, "The forces that besieged Wootton last night should be the main force of the German landing on the first day, counting today's landing and battle losses, the available total strength is about 5,000, with 2,000 stationed in Newport, 2,000 in Port-en-Bessin, and 1,000 elsewhere. If we withdraw 1,500 troops for a flanking maneuver... ah! No, the Germans' tanks have never been deployed. Although there are some on their positions, they are definitely not all! They couldn't just sit quietly in some corner of the island, they must be..."

"Impossible!" The young officer widened his eyes, realizing only now how he had become the target of the enemy's counterattack. Could it be that the "blank" passage was deliberately left by the Germans for their armored units to quickly pass through?

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