blitzkrieg

Guderian held the combat report in his hands, wrestling with the notion that it might be fabricated. Yet, despite its incredulity, he chose to accept its contents as truth. His First Armored Division had thundered across Poland, shattering the Polish Krakow Legion with formidable force. Now, after a relentless 25-kilometer advance, his forces had yet to meet significant resistance.

A company from the First Tank Regiment reported that instead of fortifying their positions, the Polish forces were amassing hundreds of artillery pieces along their transport lines, preparing for an offensive against the German border. This miscalculation left them vulnerable; they were caught during their march by Guderian's troops, leading to a disorganized and ineffective resistance. The Polish soldiers, unable to mount a defense, were captured en masse.

This rapid advancement posed a new problem for Guderian: his armored units had advanced so swiftly and captured so many prisoners that the infantry divisions lagging behind struggled to keep pace. "Approximately one battalion of Polish garrisons has been disbanded here; most soldiers have been captured. A platoon of our troops is escorting them back, while the rest continue the assault. We've advanced deep into Polish territory, encountering significant issues with military ammunition and fuel supplies," reported a staff member.

Guderian, his eyes fixed on the map, listened as his staff relayed concerns about the Third Armored Division led by Ferrick of the SS. "Ferrick's units have seized control over these areas," the staff member pointed out on the map, "He reports capturing a division headquarters and, with paratrooper support, is now pushing toward the Purcell Bridge."

"The Purcell Bridge? That's the target for the paratroopers, and it's 15 kilometers from Ferrick's current position. They're moving faster than we can keep up," Guderian noted, raising an eyebrow at the audacious pace.

The staff member sighed, "If they claim they need to advance with just a platoon, that's madness. He's pushing the SS Panzer Division too hard."

Guderian shook his head, "There are two possible outcomes for such actions: either award him for his flexible command or court-martial him for recklessness."

"I'd lean towards the latter," the staff member muttered, "A soldier too bold can indeed create miracles but also disasters when least expected. We don't need such unpredictability."

"Remember the teachings from the German Academy of Armored Force Command?" Guderian asked, a wry smile forming.

"Of course, General! I graduated from the command department there!" the staff member replied proudly.

"Have you heard of the Wolf Knight class?" Guderian asked, shifting the topic.

The staff member paused, a hint of fear in his voice, "General, are you suggesting these soldiers belong to the Wolf Knights?"

Guderian handed him a document, "The first name listed here is Ren Had, from the SS's Third Armored Division."

"Then he deserves a medal," the staff member concluded, looking relieved.

Guderian contemplated their next move. "We need to wait for the infantry. Securing the Purcell Bridge and then moving to Krakow will cut off the Polish forces in the south, effectively isolating them."

"The Fuhrer assigned me to the south and Rommel to the north to see which of us can strike harder," Guderian mused.

"Our First Armored Army will not disappoint," the chief of staff boasted.

"Then send the order to accelerate all troops! Inform logistics to resupply at the Purcell Bridge. Direct them to send the fuel there," Guderian commanded.

Meanwhile, Ren Had, leading a mixed company of SS grenadiers and German paratroopers, was making rapid progress toward the Saier Bridge. They had recently rendezvoused with an armored vehicle from the 3rd SS Grenadier Regiment, bolstering their strength. After a successful raid on a Polish division, they had seized additional fuel supplies, allowing them to continue their push toward the strategic transportation hub.

"This Air Force lot has it easy! They fly over while we dodge debris," grumbled Borol, a paratrooper guide, as a Stuka bomber roared overhead.

Ryan, adjusting the national flag atop their tank, laughed, "They're just doing their job, same as us. Let's just hope they don't hit the Saier Bridge by mistake."

"True, that would be just our luck," Borol chuckled, then added, "Once our supplies come through, I owe you some fresh canned beef."

As they neared the Saier Bridge, the Luftwaffe pilots overhead were startled to see their comrades so close to their target. "Tower, you won't believe this! Our troops are just 3 kilometers from the Saier Bridge, and they've covered their tanks with the 4D military flag. I nearly dropped the bomb!"

"Confirmed, No. 176. We've noted your report. Be careful with target selection," the tower responded, instructing the pilots to support the ground troops and avoid hitting the bridge.

The battle for the Saier Bridge turned out to be a non-event. When Ren and his mixed company arrived, they found that the Polish defenders had already been subdued by other German paratroopers. A Polish transport convoy, caught in the crossfire, was promptly seized, providing the troops with unexpected provisions—including fresh beef.

That evening, as the First Armored Corps established its headquarters near the Purcell Bridge, the troops celebrated their swift and successful advance. Guderian's forces had pushed 47 kilometers into Poland in just 16 hours, a testament to the might and speed of the German blitzkrieg.

In the flickering light of the campfire, Renne leaned casually against the wall, his gaze fixed on the flames as he posed a question to Paratrooper Borol. "I heard that to be considered a qualified paratrooper, one has to personally go to the Alps and find a white edelweiss. Is that true?"

Borol smiled, his fingers pointing to a long, dry, and yellowed flower tucked into the button slit on his collar. "When the 1st Division of the Paratroopers was formed, it was indeed a rule set by the head himself. But this year, the division expanded to three, so now, not everyone must personally go to the Alps to pick these flowers. Most of the time, the platoon leader represents the whole group, and that's considered enough for the ceremony."

After explaining, Borol took a deep breath, his eyes wandering off into the distance as he changed the subject. "Where is your home?"

The word "home" seemed foreign to Rennes. "I don't have a home. The head of state said his hometown is my hometown, and Germany is my hometown. I'm going to kill people for this hometown, many, many people, in exchange for happiness."

As he spoke, Rennes reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small tin box. He flipped the lid open and shook it twice, only to remember that he had eaten the last two chocolate candies earlier that day. With a resigned smile, he snapped the box shut.

"Sorry to ask about something so unpleasant," Borol apologized.

"It's okay, I'm used to it," Rennes replied, glancing at Bowman, the tank driver who was asleep next to him. His gaze then returned to the crackling fire. "Killing makes me feel alive. I enjoy the sensation of eliminating enemies... it's a comfort, much like your smoking."

Borol felt uneasy with the response, but before he could comment, Rennes shifted the conversation. "That song you sang earlier was pretty good. Would you sing another verse?"

"Of course!" Borol's face brightened. "That's the military song of our paratroopers." He began to sing softly, joined by a few other paratroopers gathered around:

"The engines roar, filled with personal thoughts,

Everyone's thoughts quickly skip to relatives at home.

Suddenly, comrades, there's a signal for parachuting,

We fly towards the enemy, lighting the beacon's alarm.

Land fast, land fast! Comrades, it's a journey with no return.

In the far east, there are black clouds,

Come, don't lose your soul, come!

Our number is small, our blood is boiling,

We fear neither the enemy nor the god of death.

Our only task: Germany is in crisis,

To fight, to win, against the odds.

Pick up the rifle, pick up the rifle!

Comrades, it's a journey with no return.

In the far east, there are black clouds,

Come, don't lose your soul, come!"

The song ended to the sound of applause led by a general who had just appeared at the doorway. Behind him stood a staff officer and a guard carrying a Mauser 98k rifle.

"Stand up!" the guard commanded loudly.

Everyone rose swiftly from the ground, the sleeping armored soldiers included. They dusted off straw and dirt from their uniforms, stood at attention, and raised their right arms in salute.

"Long live the head! Long live the empire!" they exclaimed.

General Goodrian returned the salute crisply. "Your performance today was very satisfying! Please continue to bring honor to the empire and to yourselves."

"Yes, General!" they responded in unison.

"Beef for dinner tonight? Good food?" Guderian inquired, nudging a bone on the ground with his shiny leather boots.

Everyone scratched their heads, smiling sheepishly. "I brought some canned food! But you'll probably have no appetite tonight. Just keep it for when you march tomorrow morning," Guderian said with a smile, handing over a bag of tinned food to his staff before departing. Cheers followed him out.

Meanwhile, the German offensive in the north had yet to consolidate its forces. Rommel, more adventurous in his use of troops than Guderian, had disregarded a telegram from army command ordering him to halt his advance. His 7th Armored Army, under the command of the 6th and 7th Armored Divisions, charged westward like a madman, halting only after capturing the headquarters of the Polish "Pomeranian Legion" in a swift assault.

Rommel drove his car, chasing after his advancing troops, assigning detailed combat missions. On several occasions, he encountered remnants of the shattered Polish army. The most notable encounter was when he saw Polish soldiers huddled together after a traffic jam. He disembarked and directed traffic for three full minutes until his guards caught up and took the Poles prisoner.

During the day's attacks, the German losses were minimal. The frontal attack forces, designated R and S armies, lost 13 and 19 men respectively. Rommel's forces lost one tank, 37 soldiers, and a truck; Guderian's forces suffered the most, losing 119 men, mostly from the SS's Third Armored Division—lack of training and excessive bravery being the primary reasons for these losses. The total number of tanks lost by the Germans across all fronts was two, both destroyed by Polish infantry with anti-tank guns. Paratrooper losses were not yet fully accounted for, but the reported numbers were 172 missing and 12 confirmed dead. Two bombers from the Luftwaffe were shot down by ground fire, one aircraft crashed due to mechanical failure, and four were shot down by the Polish Air Force, resulting in nine pilot fatalities. Even including the missing, the Germans lost no more than 400 men on the first day. In return, they captured 110,000 Polish soldiers and killed another 7,590. Three Polish division commanders, including Garokov, became German prisoners. Additionally, the Germans destroyed and captured 100 Polish tanks, over 900 artillery pieces, more than 300 trucks, and over 400 aircraft—almost a third of Poland's heavy weaponry.

The Poles were still unaware of what had transpired at their borders. The information was vast and confusing, unprocessed by anyone—everyone was trying to determine just how many Germans there were and how they had managed to breach the Polish defenses. One of the most bizarre reports stated that a German soldier was captured 110 kilometers behind the border, but eventually escaped because the five Polish farmers who captured him were themselves captured. However, the general army responded that they were attacked by the Germans, and these attacks occurred about 70 kilometers along the border.

Then the Polish commanders received another shocking piece of news. German tanks and armored vehicles had breached the Polish defense line in a swift advance, and the Polish forces that had been preparing to attack Germany were decisively beaten. These German units, heavily equipped with vehicles, advanced a full 40 kilometers on average. The first to react was the commander of the Pomerania Legion, who realized they were about to be encircled in the Danzig Corridor. He made a difficult but necessary decision: abandon everything and flee. Artillery was left on the roads as makeshift barricades, Polish cavalry charged through the disorganized infantry, sprinting south, while the motorized troops scrambled to escape the encirclement.

However, as they retreated, the German forces pursuing them from behind were relentless. This led to the complete defeat of the Polish Pomerania Legion. The three divisions left behind by their commander were surrounded and annihilated without resistance. The slow-moving artillery units were even overtaken and captured by the Germans. Ironically, the captives and equipment piled on the roads slowed the German advance more effectively than any resistance had.

In an attempt to evade responsibility for the defeat, the commander of the Pomerania Legion sent a telegram to Poland, claiming he was regrouping with the Poznan Legion to the south and would then head north to counter the German forces and retake the Danzig Corridor. This statement, while appealing, was riddled with holes. The Pomerania Legion, deployed in the Danzig Corridor, had collapsed, and the Modlin Legion, stationed in northern Poland, was now isolated. This lone force continued to hold its position, now facing the German Army Group P from East Prussia alone. The Poznan Legion, which had rushed to meet them, had already been crushed under the German onslaught. The main force of this unit had abandoned its defensive line to the south to join the Rhodes Legion; parts of its infantry and cavalry collapsed, retreating in disarray all the way back to Poland.

On another front, the Rhodes were also retreating, but because the opposing German forces were not pressing too aggressively, they were the best-performing troops in the entire Polish defense. However, when reports of German troops near Krakow reached them, their morale faltered.

On this quiet night of the first war, the Luftwaffe did not ease its attacks on the Poles. Catherine ordered the air force to take off, accumulating night attack experience. Although the results were not significant, it enriched the combat experience of the newly formed Luftwaffe. More than 700 sorties were flown against the Poles, ensuring they spent a sleepless night.

In any case, the German Defense Force, which had secretly experimented with full-scale blitzkrieg tactics for ten years, finally stepped onto the stage of history. With its debut, the newly emerged European power, Poland, was overwhelmed.