Imperial Overlord

When Marshal Graziani returned to his temporary office, he didn't even have time to take off his coat when he saw a German officer hurried in. 【Read the latest chapter】

The other party stood at attention and saluted, and then notified Marshal Graziani of a piece of news that made him unable to react for a while: the German army is going to counterattack!

Although the British Army had more than 30,000 soldiers, Rommel believed that his troops had gained a tactical advantage by waiting for work.

And he has more tanks in his hand, so he can counterattack the British team, defeat the opponent's tank troops, and then drive the opponent back to Egypt.

Compared with the British team that Matrouh pushed to Baierdi along the way, Rommel's army has rested in Tobruk for two whole days, and the ammunition is sufficient and fighting spirit is high.

One of the main reasons is that Rommel knew that the opponent's army was actually scattered on a long supply line and did not gather in time.

"What did you say? General Rommel changed his mind?" Marshal Graziani still didn't quite believe his ears.

He had just returned from Rommel, and it was obvious that the other party was still not interested in counterattacks just now. Now the other party suddenly changed his mind, which made him very hard to believe.

The German officer standing opposite Marshal Graziani nodded and said to the Italian Marshal: "Yes! Marshal! We are already preparing to counterattack, and we will set off in an hour."

"Uh, I don't know how many troops General Rommel needs me to support him?" Marshal Graziani suddenly realized that the other party might come to him to borrow some urgently needed troops.

Although Italy had just suffered a crushing defeat, he had no problem finding 20,000 people in Tobruk.

Although these soldiers have been frightened by the British, but the strength is the strength after all. He has already decided in his heart that if Rommel borrows 5,000 people, he will give it generously...

But if Rommel wanted to take all the Italian troops away, he would have to reject the opponent, even if the opponent canceled the counterattack.

"Strength?" The German military officer obviously did not think of the idea of ​​borrowing the Italian army, and Rommel did not give him such an order.

"Could it be that General Rommel didn't say that he wanted me to help?" Seeing the doubts on the other side's face, Marshal Graziani had no choice but to persuade him.

Sure enough, the other party was kind, and nodded to admit that he had come here with a request: "Yes! We need your help with one thing."

Seeing that the other party said that he came with a request, Marshal Graziani's face was full of "expressions that I knew", waiting for the other party to say the request.

"General Rommel hopes that the Italian troops will give up the road, not to delay our marching speed! And try our best to ensure the safety of the transportation line after our counterattack starts!" The German military officer said.

"What?" Marshal Graziani felt that the expression on his face was obviously not enough. He looked at the other party in disbelief, hoping to see something from the other party's face.

Obviously, this effort was a failure... So he had to ask: "That's all? Nothing else?"

"There's nothing else!" Officer Nade smiled and replied easily.

After all, this kind of contact without asking for anything is very easy, and the other party will usually agree to the conditions immediately and let him go back to his life.

Sure enough, Marshal Graziani did the same: "You go back and tell General Rommel, and I will immediately order our troops to give you the road..."

The German officer supported the hood on his big-brimmed hat with his hand, signaled it, and then turned and left.

Marshal Graziani saw that the other party really left like this, and helplessly grabbed the phone in front of him, and said to the other side: "I am Marshal Graziani, I ordered my own people who were retreating to give up the road. Come out! Go on both sides!"

"Why? Marshal?" On the other side of the phone, the order felt a little inexplicable, and he questioned such a sentence.

"The Germans want... to go to Berdi! So make the road for them to use! If we retreat, let's go both ways!" Without telling his men, the Germans started to fight back, and Marshal Graziani changed said, answered casually.

After he finished speaking, he hung up the phone and squeezed the bridge of his nose tiredly with his fingers. His army of tens of thousands was retreating, being chased by the enemy, while several thousand of the Germans were planning a counterattack.

For him, this is really not just a simple matter of humiliation. In a small corner of his heart, he was even worried, worried that the Germans would pay the price for their rashness and recklessness.

"Hopefully, these Germans can really play a role, at least, don't lose as ugly as us." Marshal Graziani put down the fingers that rubbed the bridge of his nose and said to himself.

...

"Stop advancing! Stop advancing!" On the road full of yellow sand, the tired, ragged Italian army marched in front of the marching team, and such an order shouted.

These rout soldiers who had just retreated from the front line stopped their tired steps, and then stood crookedly.

Several people sat directly on the ground because of exhaustion. They looked at the direction of the shouting curiously, not knowing what the order would make them do.

"Give up the road! Let it go!" An Italian officer with a sullen face conveyed the order just issued.

There was no combat power at all. The soldiers from the Italian 10th Army, after hearing this order, reluctantly began to move their footsteps.

They don't want to fight anymore, as long as they don't go back to fight the British, it won't hurt their own face to make way for them.

"Stand up! Get out of the way! Hurry up! We're going to make way for the troops going to Beldi! Hurry!" Seeing that there were still people sitting on the ground, the officers began to urge them to leave the road again and again.

"Sir, at this time, who would like to go to Baierdi to break up for us?" A soldier asked lazily as he got up from the ground.

"I don't know either..." The officer looked at his troops, and the expression on his face was even uglier than that of his dead mother.

The armies had retreated from Beldi all the way to here, exhausted and desperate. All they need now is to get into Tobruk and get a good rest.

As for the battle... Most of the Italian soldiers have even lost their weapons, and the combat effectiveness is completely negligible.

Not to mention turning back to fight the British ** team, it is a miracle that these soldiers do not surrender or disperse now.

"Om!" Suddenly, there was a commotion in the Italian army in front, and then the Italian soldiers who had just retreated from the road to the embankment saw the troops on the exact opposite of their route.

A German convertible car, which had been washed but still looked worn out, whizzed past them. Sitting in the car was a German officer who was looking at them with his eyes.

Before they could see the appearance of the German officer, another truck whizzed past, and the smoke and dust rolled up made everyone squinted involuntarily.

Then they saw a more powerful tank than the M11 tank they had ever seen and envied, and rumbled past them.

The side of the turret is painted in white paint with a simple cross emblem, the identification mark of the German Afrika Korps.

In fact, the logo of the German African Army is a white coconut tree, but this emblem is marked on the front of the vehicle, so the Italian soldiers on both sides can only see the white German national emblem pattern.

German infantrymen, holding Mauser rifles, sat on top of roaring tanks, looking down at the hordes of Italian infantry under the roadbed.

These German tanks, one after another, interspersed with trucks and barrel cars and other vehicles, spread to the end of the road, as if endless.

"Italians?" Looking at the sides of the road, the German infantrymen sitting on the tanks, who were curiously observing themselves, squinted their eyes and asked their companions through the scarves around their mouths.

"Isn't it! There are so many of them, how could they be defeated by the British?" Another German soldier holding a rifle mocked.

Obviously, these German soldiers who defeated the Poles and the French along the way can't imagine why the Italian army with at least thousands of people in front of them didn't turn back and fight.

"Like a beggar, it's a shame to be a soldier like this~www.wuxiaspot.com~ It's like looking at the ants under your feet, the German soldier finally concluded.

"The Germans? Their tanks are so beautiful!" At the same moment, on the roadbed, an Italian officer squinted his eyes, looking at the German No. 3 tank shrouded in smoke, and exclaimed in admiration.

"Isn't it!" Another Italian officer followed in admiration: "This is the soldier, what's the difference between us and beggars?"

In the same way, these Italian soldiers did not understand why they could see a different temperament in the German soldiers advancing along the road towards Berdi.

This momentum made thousands of German soldiers dare to attack an enemy several times their size, and made these German soldiers believe that they could win the final victory.

At this very moment, two completely different armies brushed past each other east of Tobruk.

A force of more than 50,000 men had been defeated all the way from Matrouh, leaving Baierdi and retreating westward, not even Tobruk dared to stop.

Another troop attacked again in the direction of Matrou, and in front of them was a British enemy ten times their size.