webnovel

"The Heart of Germany"

Crossing into World War II-era Germany, yet only a lowly lieutenant paratrooper with no background, no connections. Am I to drift along with history, enduring setbacks in Britain, getting battered in Crete, freezing in Russia, crouching in Normandy to dodge bombs? No, my ambition still burns bright; why fear leaving a legacy of scorn behind? From military greenhorn to war veteran, Logan underwent a transformation in a few short months that defies imagination. From the astonishing events at Dunkirk to the globally watched Battle of Britain, the roaring Barbarossa in Russia, what's the next target? Logan says: "In...

sckyh · Adolescents et jeunes adultes
Pas assez d’évaluations
248 Chs

Chapter 29: Oh? Interested in Me?

The temporary headquarters of the Fuhrer's Guard Flag Detachment was located in a two-story inn south of the town. When Logan arrived there, Dietrich was standing on the small balcony of the top floor, observing the distant situation through binoculars.

"How is it? Are the British attacking?" Logan asked eagerly. On the way there, he was regretting not reminding the "fanatical leader" that Montgomery was a swift and formidable character.

"I don't know yet! No reports from the outposts!" Despite being short, Dietrich always stood tall, like a spirited rooster.

After the explosion just now, the surroundings of the town were eerily quiet. Dietrich had deployed some outposts around the town, which Logan had seen on his way there. Some were mini trenches that could only accommodate two people, meant to avoid gunfire and enemy detection from a distance; others cleverly utilized hills or depressions. Whenever anything unusual was spotted, the sentries would promptly contact headquarters via landline or signal with gunfire!

Perhaps it was just a landmine triggered by animals like pigs or cows, or some other non-human reason. Logan speculated as suddenly, a flash of light erupted from the darkness to the east, followed by another explosion!

Footsteps approached from behind, and a Wehrmacht officer in combat uniform reported, "Outpost 14 reports a large number of enemy infantry! The outpost is located to our east, 2560 meters from the front line!"

"Understood!" Dietrich responded coldly. In Logan's eyes, this attitude couldn't be described by the word "cool"!

A while later, the officer came back to report again, "Outpost 7 spotted enemy infantry, the outpost is 2210 meters from the front line!"

"Hmm," Dietrich simply acknowledged again. Meanwhile, Logan couldn't help but silently admire: the Germans were so meticulous and precise, even in estimating distances. Compared to them, the British were simply intolerable!

By the time the officer reported for the third time, the distance was reduced to "2050", and Dietrich calmly ordered, "All battalions prepare for battle, artillery will commence fire at 2000 meters with an illuminating shell, advancing with a barrage!"

After half a cigarette's time, Dietrich checked his watch and said to his adjutant, "Fire two illuminating shells at the coordinates 3000 meters ahead!"

It was hard to imagine that a "fanatical leader" could command a battle so elegantly, to the extent that Logan still remembered this scene clearly years later.

Shortly after, the "bang" of artillery fire came from behind, and an almost imperceptible point shot upwards at an extremely fast speed. A few seconds later, a dazzling light burst into view, driving away the darkness, leaving only a bright world...

Logan looked in amazement at the distant scene, where under the blazing light, countless khaki dots appeared on the flat field. Even without binoculars, one could see that these Allied infantrymen, armed with rifles and bayonets, were advancing towards Monk. Their vanguard was only a few thousand meters away from the German frontline!

The scene was indeed spectacular, but the wheels of time had turned to 1940. The era of infantry, this great and traditional branch of the military, had long passed. Artillery and machine guns had become the most effective weapons for defenders. Charging enemy positions with infantry would be every commander's nightmare!

In just a blink of an eye, shells whistled through the brightly lit wilderness, unleashing a storm of fire and blood. In one moment, the elite infantry trained at great expense by the British Empire fell like weeds; the next moment, every second, the Germans bloomed in the light of victory! In one moment, British youth ended their prime; the next moment, women across the Channel donned black veils...

The German artillerymen were busy, but the infantry on the front line remained surprisingly calm. It was no wonder, as whether it was the bipod-mounted MG34, the standard Mauser 98k, or the MP38, or the 50 and 80 mm mortars, their effective range was within a kilometer. But this did not prevent the battlefield from presenting a one-sided situation: as the shells gradually covered the depth, more and more Allied infantrymen abandoned their attack and turned to flee, leaving on the battlefield either the dead and wounded or the "clever ones" trying to hide from the artillery fire by lying on the ground.

In less than 5 minutes, the Allied offensive hastily ended, and the survivors retreated out of sight. The German artillerymen timely ceased their roar.

Dietrich turned around, proudly saying to Logan, "Look at those British and French soldiers with modern equipment, their combat effectiveness is no better than African natives! But... I like this kind of war, it's more satisfying than facing those British and French commanders upfront!"

Standing on the German side, Logan was speechless at this moment. Even after experiencing brutal battles before, he was still greatly shaken: victory sometimes came so easily? Then why couldn't it continue until the end of the war?

"It looks like they dare not come for half an hour! Let's go and see our artillery!" Without waiting for Logan to speak, this "fanatical leader" took him by the slightly thin shoulders and walked downstairs. Perhaps there were few such actions among officers of the Wehrmacht, but who was Dietrich? This World War I veteran, who had not received much education, had served as a policeman and private driver/bodyguard for Little Moustache. He was straightforward, humorous, and still stood out among many independent SS commanders.

The two crossed the now calm streets and arrived at the artillery position near the north of the town. After more than ten rounds of artillery fire just now, the warm air here was filled with a strong smell of gunpowder. Probably due to the terrain restrictions, the cannons were not arranged neatly. Each gun position was scattered with many empty shell casings, and soldiers were transporting whole boxes of new shells from nearby trucks to the gun positions.

"Very well done, Pete!" Dietrich praised a burly Waffen-SS officer when he approached.

"Come, let me introduce you. This is my artillery commander, Pete Erhoff! And this is Air Force Lieutenant Hans Logan, a brave paratrooper!" Dietrich introduced.

"A brave paratrooper?" Logan was pleasantly surprised. Since his crossing, this was the first time someone had given him a "label". Importantly, this title was not cliché and not overly ostentatious, very suitable for his current "minor role".

"Pleased to meet you!" The artillery commander reached out his right hand, and wow, his palm was a whole size larger than Logan's, and it was full of hard calluses!

"You know, Pete and I have been old comrades for nearly 30 years!" Dietrich said proudly. "We served as gunners together in the Emperor's army, and even worked together on the same av-7!"

"More accurately, it's been 25 years and 3 months! But if we exclude the 18 years I served in the Wehrmacht alone, it's only 7 years!" The artillery commander chuckled. "But during those 18 years, we didn't lose touch, so why wouldn't you count them?"

Logan asked naturally, "Oh? So you transferred from the Wehrmacht?"

Before Pett could respond, Dietrich interjected, "Hehe, it wasn't a transfer, it was more like a snatch! When the Fuhrer's Guard was just established, there weren't many people who truly understood military affairs. Pett had served in the artillery for over 20 years and even taught at the artillery academy. Someone with his expertise was definitely in high demand! But you know, he definitely has more room to shine under my command than in the Wehrmacht. Hans, my friend, what do you think? Have you considered it?"

"Huh?" Logan was taken aback by the question. Materially speaking, referring to this top-ranked SS unit as nouveau riche wouldn't be far off: the best equipment, ample supplies, and significant autonomy. However, the SS was also heavily politicized. To put it nicely, it was a force with strong ideological motivation; to put it bluntly, it was the Nazis' henchmen!