Spanish civl war pt 2

"Ding!" The bullet struck the stone, sending a cloud of dust into the air. The distant machine gun rattled ceaselessly, its thunderous roar mingling with the faint cries of wounded soldiers. Behind the barricades, a line of Republican soldiers fired back fiercely. Opposite them, the National Army soldiers dodged bullets, inching closer to their targets with each passing moment. Not far away, inside a building, two German snipers were methodically loading their rifles. They expertly maneuvered their weapons to the window, took aim at the Republican soldiers in the nearby barricade, and gently squeezed the trigger. The sharp report of gunfire followed, and a bullet soared, burrowing into the head of a Republican soldier. The soldier's body jerked back from the impact. The snipers repeated the process: pulling the bolt, aiming, and gently pulling the trigger. Another shot rang out, another bullet flew, and another life was claimed, marked by blood and a falling body.

Artillery support had finally arrived. The Republican Army's machine gun positions were now under heavy fire, erupting in huge plumes of black smoke. Rubble and stones flew in all directions, mixed with the remnants of broken bodies and torn military uniforms. The machine gun position was silenced as the weapon itself twisted and fell, no longer operational.

"Dang Dang Dang..." A P-2 tank rumbled over the gravel, slowly appearing from around the corner of the block. As it moved, the turret rotated towards the barricade, adjusting the angle of its 20mm main gun. Behind the tank, a group of Spanish soldiers in steel helmets advanced cautiously. They kept low, covering themselves with their rifles as they moved forward.

The tank halted at a street corner, its turret peeking out. Then, the 20mm gun fired, blasting a large hole in the barricade of the Spanish Republican Army. The soldiers inside were thrown into disarray by the explosion. However, from a distance, another group of soldiers braved the artillery fire to provide support, firing wildly at the tank with various weapons. Bullets sparked off the tank's armor in a dazzling display.

"Reverse!" shouted the German tank driver, commanding from within. While the machine gun on the turret blazed away, he instructed his crew to quickly reload the 20mm gun. The tank shuddered slightly as it began to retreat. The Spanish infantry, who had been using the tank for cover, were now exposed and quickly fell to enemy bullets. The survivors scrambled to retreat alongside the tank.

However, the tank had only backed up half a meter before it surged forward again, this time showing more than just half of its body as it charged into the center of the street. The 20mm gun roared to life once more, and the machine gun fired relentlessly. The Republican firepower was clearly suppressed.

A hundred meters away atop a building, the German sniper once again eliminated a Republican soldier who had taken over the fallen machine gunner's position. Then, the two snipers relocated, a tactical necessity. Despite the enemy's rudimentary anti-sniper measures, all German sniper teams in the war were required to adhere strictly to the rules in their tactical manual. This tactic of relocating after engaging proved both reasonable and efficient. It was not uncommon for a sniper's previous position to come under attack minutes after being vacated, validating the necessity of their strict adherence to protocol.

Meanwhile, another artillery strike had obliterated the barricade. The P-2 tank, under the cover of infantry, advanced into the ruins. The soldiers of the Spanish National Army hastily set up their machine guns on the new position, while gunfire echoed in the distance.

"Your Excellency, we have secured three-quarters of Cordoba. Although the Republican army is still resisting using the terrain to their advantage, we expect to have full control by tomorrow afternoon," reported an officer in a general's uniform. He proudly pointed out their progress on the map to Franco. "In the countryside, my 8th Armored Division has advanced to the southern bank of the Guadiana River," he continued, indicating the area next to Portugal on the map. "Our forces have taken Badajoz. The Republican forces have retreated, and if our troops maintain their current pace, we will converge on the central city of Caceres next week."

Franco nodded, pleased with the report. Before him stood Lieutenant General Bock, chief of staff of the German Wehrmacht. His strategic command had revitalized Franco's forces, allowing them to stabilize and counterattack effectively. The SS 2nd Panzer Division, reinforced from Germany, had swiftly breached the Republican defenses outside Cordoba, pushing the enemy back into the city center. Despite the high casualty rate, the overall war situation was favorable.

The 8th Armored Division had advanced impressively, even reaching the southern bank of the Guadiana River, effectively alleviating the previously precarious situation of being encircled. The German forces supporting Franco had outperformed the Soviet Red Army, which was aiding the international column and the Republican Army. Wherever the Germans fought, they had yet to face defeat, their morale boosted by a string of unbroken victories.

"General Bock, where will your next focus be? Near the Guadiana River or Cordoba?" Franco inquired, studying the map intently.

"Our attack plan was drafted by the German Staff Headquarters, and even the head of state took a personal interest," Bock replied. "For now, I know that the head of state is particularly focused on Caceres. So, I will concentrate our armored strength to capture Caceres swiftly as a 36th birthday gift for the head of state."

"I hadn't realized he was so young!" Franco remarked with interest. "He's a few years younger than me, yet he's already the head of state in Germany. Even you, a general older than him, hold him in high esteem."

"The head of state's prestige has been affirmed by countless victories. We do not question his decisions," Bock said with a hint of admiration. "He is like a gift from God to the German people, bringing hope to our beleaguered nation."

"I look forward to meeting your head of state," Franco said, nodding. "Once Spain emerges from this civil war as a strong and free country, I will definitely meet him."

"Very welcome, General Franco," Bock responded with a nod.

"I have one more question, General Bock," Franco added, his tone casual. "A general of your experience must also hold a high rank in Germany, correct?"

"Thank you for your kind words, General Franco," Bock replied with a smile. "We have many distinguished generals, such as General Brosich of the National Defence Forces. Despite his youth, he was recognized by the head of state as a capable leader. Of course, many are more adept at directing operations than I am."

Pausing, Bock then joked, "The head of state told me before I left that he saw my old bones were nearly ready for retirement, so he gave me this opportunity to earn a bit more before I retire."

Franco chuckled and patted Bock's shoulder. "You have a good sense of humor, unlike many old-fashioned Germans. It seems there's nothing you can't handle. How about we share a glass of whiskey tonight?"

"That would be fine, General Franco, but according to the Head of State's 'Code of Conduct for Frontline Combat,' I'm only allowed up to three glasses of alcohol per day. Though I've heard that as a general of the National Defense Force, this limit can be relaxed to four," Bock replied with a grin.

"Then if you become a marshal, you can drink half a bottle," Franco joked, buoyed by the stabilizing and increasingly favorable situation at the front.

"Long live the head of state!" An intelligence officer entered, saluting crisply before speaking. "General, I've just confirmed with Air Force Commander Colonel Dick that this afternoon at about 3:30, the Spanish friendly air force lost three HE-51D export fighters."

"And the conclusion?" Bock inquired, his brow furrowing.

"The Air Force analyzed the air combat and confirmed that the skill level of the Republican fighter pilots has greatly improved," the intelligence officer reported, glancing at his notes. "Colonel Dick suspects that the opposing pilots were from the Soviet Union, not the inexperienced ranks of the Republican Army. The aircraft used were also the latest I-16 fighters developed by the Soviets."

"Does Colonel Dick have any countermeasures?" Bock asked after a moment's thought.

"Colonel Dick suggested that, if possible, our pilots could also engage," the officer replied, checking his report for Dick's recommendation. "He also mentioned that if air supremacy becomes necessary, he will deploy the Air Force's secret weapon."

"Tell him I approve. Let him proceed," Bock instructed, handing the intelligence book back to the officer. He then turned to Franco. "Apologies, General Franco, it seems our drink will have to wait a few more days."

"No matter, General Bock! When I win, I'll treat you to a fine meal," Franco said with a smile, his spirits undiminished by the delay.