Chapter 311 Gibraltar Fortress (3)

As required, gun emplacements and ammunition depots storing explosives should not be too close, and ammunition depots should be placed in the safest locations. Next to the big guns, only relatively safe armor-piercing shells are allowed. The propellant and shells must be stored in secure ammunition depots and, when needed, transported by specialists to the gun positions for loading and firing by the gunners. This precaution is to prevent ammunition explosions during combat, which could lead to catastrophic consequences.

However, now the top three gun emplacements of the Gibraltar Fortress are filled with propellant and shells.

Because the major war is imminent, the gunners spontaneously moved the propellant and shells up to the top to strike the enemy more quickly when the time comes. This was even approved by Governor Liddell.

In fact, this idea is understandable since there is a ten-meter layer of reinforced concrete above their heads; what bomb could penetrate that?

But now, a bomb dropped from the sky, and the British soldiers on the gun emplacement stared in astonishment at this unheard-of giant, their minds momentarily in a state of shock.

Before they could recover, the time-delay fuse on the bomb was ignited, and the violent energy, in a manner as unstoppable as crushing dry weeds and smashing rotten wood, swept away everything in its vicinity.

Countless 381-millimeter shells and propellants were instantly ignited, and the two forces intersected, creating an extremely powerful shockwave that lifted the several-ton top plate several meters high. The billowing smoke mixed with fierce flames soared hundreds of meters into the air, and debris flew like a doomsday scenario.

The entire fortress seemed to experience a magnitude ten earthquake, violently shaking. Some timid clerks even screamed as they hid under their desks.

"Heh!"

Manstein on the distant mountain top also looked in shock at the earth-shattering explosion. He could even feel the shockwave and the smell of gunpowder carried by the air. "Indeed, it's a big one!"

"Direct hit!" The bomb release operator on the He 177 bomber breathed a sigh of relief. This version of the Grand Slam 2.0 is more difficult to control than the previous one, as once the rocket booster ignites, the flame and smoke it produces would interfere with the bomb release operator's line of sight, making it almost impossible for them to continue controlling the bomb's descent trajectory. Therefore, before the rocket booster ignites, the bomb release operator must stabilize the bomb's descent trajectory as much as possible.

This He 177 bomber slowly ascended, making way for the following bombers. Fortunately, these gun emplacements were quite far apart, and the billowing smoke didn't affect their targeting of the next gun emplacement.

Governor Liddell, who had just stabilized himself, stared in disbelief at the rock walls that had cracked open in several places, muttering, "What did the Germans drop?" He couldn't afford to care about what the Germans had dropped; he could tell from the direction of the explosion sounds that it seemed to be at Battery B. Could it be that Battery B was under attack?

He picked up the phone to contact Battery B, but couldn't get through.

Just as he was about to call his adjutant to find out what was happening, suddenly, another deafening explosion shook the entire fortress again. Even the water cup on his desk was knocked over, and the spilled water scattered on the floor.

However, he couldn't be bothered to pick up the cup. He stared blankly in the direction from which the explosion sound came, which was the position of Battery A.

At this moment, an adjutant in panic rushed in. "Your Excellency, Your Excellency, the observation post reports that the top gun emplacements have been subjected to a German air raid. Batteries B and A have been completely destroyed, and there are no survivors among the gunners inside."

Governor Liddell urgently asked, "What kind of bomb did the Germans use?"

The adjutant's face showed a hint of fear, and he replied with a trembling voice, "The observation post says the bomb dropped by the Germans looks about ten meters long, and the tail is still spewing flames." At first, he thought the soldier reporting was going mad; a ten-meter-long bomb, was it so exaggerated? But when another soldier solemnly assured him that they definitely didn't make a mistake, he had no choice but to believe.

"What?!" Governor Liddell gasped. Knowing that a 500-kilogram bomb is only about a meter long, how heavy is a ten-meter-long bomb?! Those Germans are truly insane! They actually created such a super bomb!!

"Boom!" The third explosion resounded. The adjutant, who had barely stabilized himself by grabbing the table beside him, looked somewhat pale. "This seems to be in the direction of Battery C?" In other words, in less than 20 minutes, the three fortress gun emplacements were finished?!

Governor Liddell hadn't had a chance to say anything when a mournful alarm sounded inside the fortress.

It wasn't an air raid alarm but a sea combat alert.

"What's going on?" Governor Liddell and his adjutant hurriedly arrived at the naval lookout post.

The second lieutenant inside the lookout post saluted him. "General, we've observed a fleet heading this way." As soon as he finished speaking, a soldier standing in front of the observation scope suddenly shouted, "French battleships!!"

Governor Liddell stepped forward, pushing aside the soldier, and pressed against the observation scope, looking towards the distant sea.

"France's 'Bretagne,' 'Dunkerque,' 'Provence,' 'Strasbourg,' 'Richelieu,' Italy's 'Vittorio Veneto,' 'Littorio,' 'Roma,' Germany's 'Bismarck,' 'Scharnhorst!'" (TLN: Yeah, they fucked up.)

French Prime Minister Pétain, eager to secure benefits for himself (outwardly claiming revenge against the shameful actions of the United Kingdom), and the Italian navy, loyal to their new queen, practically offered anything they had. With the threat of coastal artillery eliminated, dozens of warships were arranged firmly ten kilometers away.

Watching hundreds of various-caliber naval guns pointing towards them, Governor Liddell, standing behind the observation scope, felt his calves trembling uncontrollably.

A messenger stumbled over. "Your Excellency, Your Excellency, the Germans are using open communication."

Governor Liddell urgently asked, "What did they say?!"

The messenger trembled and replied, "They demand our surrender within 10 minutes, or they will flatten the entire fortress!"

"..." If it were yesterday, Governor Liddell might have scoffed at such rhetoric, but now, with so many warships within arm's reach, he had to believe that the Germans indeed had the capability. The Gibraltar fortress was thick, but most of it was made of stone. How could it withstand the bombardment of battleship main guns? Those were shells specifically designed to deal with steel behemoths.

"Contact London!" Governor Liddell, for a moment, was at a loss. It took him a while to force out a sentence. Now, he could only seek help from London and see what solutions Prime Minister Churchill had.

The messenger rushed out in a hurry. The adjutant beside him trembled and reminded, "Time is running out, General! Shouldn't you go to the basement for shelter?"