Chapter 20 Hey, Fell for It, Didn't You?

Proverbs say that strong fortresses are often breached from within. Within the impregnable British fortress steadfast against the German tank fire, amid the litter of spent shell casings and the anxious faces of gunners, Gunner Kullen felt a sense of frustration. Due to excessive firing, the old cannon's barrel had overheated, forcing a temporary halt in bombardment. Now, half an hour had passed, and the advancing German forces had already blasted a passage through the frontline with iron triangular frames. If not for the halted steps due to minefields, those German tanks disembarked from the barges might have flooded over the British defenses like a tide!

Currently, the leading German tanks had their tracks blown off, but they still served as fixed fire support points. The subsequent tanks were relentless in bombarding the British positions. Illuminated by flares, the German sappers seemed like wriggling insects, followed closely by waves of infantry using those iron triangles as cover, utilizing rifles, machine guns, and mortars to suppress the defenders.

Where were the reinforcements? If they could arrive in time, there might still be hope to withstand this onslaught of German troops, but...

Kullen pondered painfully as a foot soldier stumbled in, "Sir, the rear of the position is under attack, by the Germans! Lieutenant Carey sent me to inform you to reinforce the defenses!"

Kullen was shocked. No reinforcements, but the enemy was already here?

"German troops at the rear? Are they paratroopers?" he inquired.

The blond soldier panted heavily, still gripping his Enfield rifle, "I believe so, sir. They're heavily armed; they might be charging in any moment!"

"God help us! Hey, Newman, Rolt, Smith!" Kullen quickly called out three names, "Grab your weapons and follow me! The rest, keep firing towards the beach!"

Three young men immediately withdrew from the ranks of moving ammunition and adjusting gun positions. They retrieved rifles and ammunition belts from a wooden rack in the corner. Since there were only three rifles, one of them voluntarily handed his rifle to Kullen and grabbed a trench shovel, seemingly prepared for close combat with the Germans.

Though outwardly composed, Kullen felt a profound sadness seeing his men armed with weapons barely suitable for combat. Was there still hope for victory in such a battle?

"Boss!" one of the remaining gunners shouted, "What do we do? We're down to our last crate of shells!"

"Fire, keep firing relentlessly! Until we're out!" Kullen left these gritted words behind, heading towards the rear exit without looking back.

Typically, fortresses facing the sea would have rear exits for personnel and supply transport. For safety, these exits were best equipped with bulletproof and blast-resistant steel doors. In the costly construction of the Maginot Line, the rear exits of standalone fortresses were not only heavily fortified but also equipped with firing slits and grenade throw holes to guard against enemy flanking attacks. Despite not lagging in engineering, British fortifications often had to make do with limited resources. For example, the steel door of this fortress was only 8 millimeters thick—barely equivalent to the armor plating of a typical armored car, only able to withstand bullets and grenade fragments. A single explosive pack would be enough to blow it open.

The infantryman who delivered the message had already opened the rear door when Kullen leaned out, startled by bullets flying from the darkness.

Fortunately, it was a stray shot, hitting the fortress edge and kicking up some dust.

Kullen chambered a round, lacking a helmet, he cautiously stuck out half his head. Under the glare of illumination flares, the advancing shadows of the German troops resembled a thousand-strong army.

Amidst the intense and conflicting gunfire echoing from all sides, it seemed the Germans had broken into the trenches, and the rear exit of the fortress connected directly to a winding trench, leading all the way to the frontline on the beach.

Seeing no Germans nearby, Kullen, along with three gunners and the infantryman, entered the trench. With only five men and four rifles, they couldn't reinforce the frontline effectively. They had to organize a defense on the spot to protect the vulnerable rear of the fortress from German attacks.

Soon, they spotted several shadows running towards them. Kullen aimed at the foremost figure and asked loudly, "Who goes there?"

The figure hesitated, then abruptly stopped, crouching down.

Without hesitation, Kullen pulled the trigger and then ducked back into the trench, "Damn it, it's the Germans! They're coming up!"

The British rifle fire didn't deter the German paratroopers; the sound of MP38 submachine guns immediately filled the air, bullets hissing around the trench edge, keeping the British soldiers pinned down. Suddenly, Kullen heard a German shouting something. His heart sank, "Quick, back to the fortress!"

As he spoke, a smoking stick-like object flew over from the opposite side. Kullen knew the German's stick grenade had a short fuse delay, so he quickly pushed the nearest companion down into the trench.

Boom!

The close-range explosion deafened Kullen's ears. He struggled to get up; Newman had turned into a bloody mess, Rolt lay motionless on the ground, while Smith was luckier, mostly unscathed except for a mouthful of mud. As for the infantryman who delivered the message, Kullen couldn't spot him at that moment.

Smith bravely stood up, fired a shot at the enemy, then quickly ducked down, urgently saying something with a hurried expression, but Kullen's ears were still ringing.

Smith patted his shoulder, signaling him to follow. Kullen nodded dazedly, picking up his rifle from the ground, focusing only on his companion's bobbing backside.

Finally back in the fortress, Smith exerted himself to close the steel door. Kullen rubbed his head; his ears seemed to be clearing up a bit, "Dear God, I'm still alive!"

"Yes, we're both piles of crap, but alive!" Smith said through gritted teeth.

Boom!

The muffled sound came from the forward gun compartment, indicating the gunners were still bombarding the German forces on the beach. Though not very effective, each shell sent over caused some casualties among the landing German troops.

Gradually, Kullen felt his head clearing up slightly. Thinking of the fierce German soldiers outside, he shouted, "We better seal the door or collapse the passage!"

"With what?" Smith spread his hands. They were sitting less than a meter away from the steel door, completely unaware that the German paratroopers outside were already raising a rather formidable "hammer"—during regular testing, this weapon was more than capable of dealing with 50-millimeter thick homogeneous steel plates.

Aiming slightly, the operator pulled the trigger, and the rocket head shot out, heading straight for the British door...

At 10:27, three purple signal flares rose slowly from the beach behind the Isle of Wight, indicating that the German paratroopers belonging to the Model Airborne Division had successfully seized both inner and outer British positions. Seeing this signal, the ferocious gunfire from the shore quickly subsided. By now, apart from a "land bridge" being destroyed, the other four were almost "assembled." About twenty barges were linked together, providing convenient loading and unloading for the arriving landing craft. Once the engineers welded these barges together, tanks and other heavy equipment would be able to disembark directly from the landing craft and rush onto the beachhead without obstruction.

Twenty minutes later, the German combat engineers finally cleared a safe passage on the beach. One by one, the Panzer III and IV tanks rumbled onto the British positions, accompanied by a large number of drenched Waffen-SS infantry carrying heavy packs. After entering the trenches left by the British, some German soldiers quickly used explosives to create shelters large enough to accommodate tanks, while others vigorously wielded shovels to construct temporary machine gun and rifle firing positions facing north.

Wheeled armored fighting vehicles landed and swiftly occupied concealed positions on both flanks of the British positions. Half-tracked armored vehicles arrived, bringing heavy mortars, infantry guns, and crates of ammunition. Regular German army infantry disembarked. In positional warfare, they were evidently more professional than the paratroopers and Waffen-SS!

As the German forces swiftly secured their foothold on the British coastline, unleashing the first wave of attacks, two Nelson-class battleships in the Wash Bay unleashed their formidable 16-inch main guns, mercilessly pounding the scattered German landing craft attempting to flee. Describing it as "pounding" is apt, considering that each shell fired from these main guns weighed nearly a ton. Any German vessel, aside from battleships, would either be sunk or severely disabled by a single hit. With each salvo from the three main gun turrets, new explosions or capsized German vessels would appear on the sea surface. At times, with a stroke of luck, a single salvo from the battleships could sink four or five cargo ships - whether these ships were built by Germans themselves, looted from the Netherlands, Belgium, Denmark, Norway, Poland, or "leased" from the Russians, mattered little. The British mindset was straightforward: as long as the Germans lacked ships, their plans for invasion would be futile, regardless of the ferocity of their armored forces!

"Torpedo spotted to port! All ships, take evasive action!"

The destroyer HMS Defender (h.07) immediately broadcasted the enemy alert to the fleet via unencrypted radio, prompting the two massive battleships to cease fire and maneuver at full speed to avoid the incoming torpedoes. Among the accompanying vessels, cruisers engaged in a gun battle with two German destroyers ahead of the fleet, while the destroyers diligently performed anti-submarine patrols - two of them even turned on partial searchlights in an attempt to avoid torpedoes fired by lurking German submarines, unwittingly exposing their precise locations to German seaplanes lurking nearby.

The German He-115's specialty was lurking in certain sea areas. When encountering lone vessels, one or two of them could easily destroy the target. When facing escorted convoys, they often resorted to sudden ambushes, aiming to take down one ship at a time. In the first year of the war, the German Navy's seaplane units sank a total of 22 Allied vessels, with a total tonnage of nearly 50,000 tons, mainly in the North Sea area. The German Navy had been seeking ways to expand its aviation force, and it was rumored that when Goering was dozing off, agreements of some sort were made between Raeder and the acting Air Force commander, Kesselring. However, with the return of the Field Marshal, this shortcut was obviously fraught with uncertainties once again!

Concealed by the gunfire, the He-115s with their twin engines started up, swiftly gaining enough speed and lift on the water's surface, then swiftly flew towards the British fleet at low altitude, launching torpedoes decisively from a distance of 2,000 meters before the British guns could effectively intercept.

Faced with torpedoes darting around the sea, the British fleet once again found itself in a state of panic, allowing the German landing fleet to gain distance. However, they remained within the super-heavy gun range of the British battleships!

"Do those damned Germans think they can get away with this?" Without hesitation. General Parsonet was infuriated by the repeated German ambushes. He gritted his teeth, intending to swallow the entire German landing fleet along with their elite forces in one gulp. However, his wish was soon shattered.

"General, take a look at this!" A lieutenant, accompanied by several strong sailors, brought forth a strange object. It looked like the turret of a tank, but judging from the texture of the fractured surface, it was definitely not made of steel!

"What is this?" Parsonet was astonished. If this were indeed a tank component, it would not be something that a few sailors could carry, and it was obviously just salvaged from the sea by the sailors.

The lieutenant refrained from making judgments, only reporting the situation: "These fragments are all over the sea surface, made of wood, coated with paint!"

"Damn Germans, dare to play tricks on us!" Parsonet was furious, but moments later, his expression changed to one of astonishment: "No, the real German landing area is still in the English Channel! Quickly send a report to headquarters, we've been deceived by the Germans! Also, the fleet must immediately change course and retreat north at full speed!"

In the darkness, the British fleet, with its formidable firepower, ceased roaring. Anchored by two massive yet stable battleships, they began to turn, but at that moment, a lookout on the Nelson suddenly emitted a heart-wrenching cry: "Torpedo boats spotted to starboard, closing in fast on our vessel!"

The Nelson had been pursuing the German vessels with its bow to the south, and to the starboard rear was the direction of the Wash Bay. Previously, officers had assumed that the German landing craft had all fled the harbor, unaware that high-speed torpedo boats were still hidden there - since the tanks on the ships could be faked, conventional thinking couldn't be applied to speculate German behavior!

The numerous secondary guns on the warships fired at the water surface, but before people could calm their nerves, the damn lookout shouted again: "Aircraft sighted to port, low-altitude attack incoming!"

Torpedoes from both the sea and the air quickly intertwined into an inescapable net, leaving Parsonet staring blankly at the sea, illuminated intermittently by the gunfire, his facial muscles twitching in pain: Damn Germans, they didn't have a powerful navy, yet they dared to challenge the Royal Navy with such despicable means; Damn Germans, they didn't have clever and smooth minds, yet they dared to play out such complex operations; Damn Germans, they...

Suddenly, a huge explosion sounded nearby, as if echoing Parsonet's curses. The massive hull trembled, officers stumbled on their feet, and the wooden turret the sailors had carried just now rolled down the gangway, shattering into pieces on the deck!