The Rise of the Third Reich

Lieutenant Vincent Dill, a platoon leader in the 3rd Infantry Division of the British Army, walked listlessly on the snow-covered plains, followed by more than two dozen soldiers who were as listless as him. They were conducting a routine patrol west of Hartlepool, in the middle of the battlefield where the two armies faced each other - in order to facilitate tank confrontations, the two warring parties had left a large vacuum between the front lines of this area. If the Germans or the British and American forces were to launch an armored group attack, they would probably set up a tank attack formation in this vacuum zone.

Therefore, both sides will send patrol teams to patrol and alert this vacuum zone in order to detect the enemy's armored clusters preparing to attack as early as possible.

Early this morning, these unlucky British people had to brave the biting cold wind and goose feather-like snowflakes to walk 10 miles on the prescribed route. They would be hit by bullets fired from unknown places at any time, and then die miserably. .

It should be a soldier's bounden duty to die for his country with a smile on his face. Lieutenant Dill fought in France, shed blood in North Africa, and fought against German tanks in Ireland. He was a true soldier and should not be afraid of death.

But with the news of the "London Protests" a few days ago, this soldier who had been fighting for the British Empire on the battlefield for more than three years suddenly felt that the battle had lost its meaning.

He and his brothers were fighting the most ferocious enemies on the front line. They couldn't sleep well for several weeks, couldn't eat a mouthful of hot meals, and almost forgot what their wife looked like. Moreover, they might die or become disabled at any time. But everyone still gritted their teeth and persisted, and no one would give up their responsibilities.

But back in London, those people who lived in comfortable big cities and lived a life of poverty but comfort with their families jumped up and took to the streets to cause trouble with slogans of "Bread, Milk, Peace" , and the trouble was not just one or two, but one million! This forced Churchill to announce the dissolution of Parliament and hold a general election... In fact, he was preparing to hand over the country to the capitulationists!

When Dill heard the news, he was first shocked, then angry, and then extremely disappointed and sad - Who am I defending? Who am I fighting for? Those shameless people in London ready to surrender? Is it worth giving up your life for these people?

So from that moment on, Lieutenant Dill began to be afraid of death, very afraid!

And Lieutenant Dill also saw fear in the eyes of everyone around him-including superiors, colleagues and subordinates. When fighting loses its meaning, everyone fears death.

"Okay! That's it!" The upset Lieutenant Dill suddenly shouted, "We have completed the mission, now go back."

The patrol mission was not completed, and only about half of the required distance was traveled, but who cares?

Who cares that a small band of British wretches on the front line at Hartlepool failed to complete their mission when the whole country was waiting to surrender?

After Lieutenant Dill gave the order, he just turned around and wanted to lead his men back when a sharp whistle passed by his ears, and it sounded like something was flying through the air.

Immediately, someone screamed!

"Ah! God, I've been hit!"

"Germans! The Germans are coming!"

"God, what are we going to do?"

German! I encountered a German patrol! Lieutenant Dill immediately fell into the snow, and the feeling of fear immediately hit him from all directions. At this time, the gunshots rang out more intensively. It didn't sound like German FG42 paratrooper rifles and Mkb42 automatic carbines, but dozens of bolt-action rifles shooting indiscriminately.

Then Lieutenant Dill heard shouts, probably in Italian, and then he remembered that those shots were Italian Calgano rifles firing.

Lieutenant Dill relaxed slightly and shouted to his subordinates who were already lying in the snow: "Don't be afraid, they are Italians. We are fighting and retreating."

Now when the British army encounters the useless Italians, they can only fight and retreat at the same time! But after a few minutes, Lieutenant Dill realized that he could no longer even hide from the Italians.

Because the gunfire on the Italian side became more and more intensive, it was obvious that there were many people. After a while, the Italians began to fire again with their 45mm small mortars. There should be several 45mm small mortars firing at the same time. The shells fell like raindrops, kicking up patches of snow and soil. Dill's soldiers soon couldn't hold it any longer and stopped fighting back one after another and began to flee. The firepower on the British side suddenly weakened.

The Italians took the opportunity to launch a charge. Dozens or hundreds of enthusiastic Italian fascists rushed up with their old Calgano rifles, all with bright bayonets on them.

"Long live! The Fascist Party! Long live! Mussolini!"

Hearing the Italians' charge slogan, Lieutenant Dill subconsciously took out his bayonet and wanted to charge. But just as he took the bayonet in his hand, he suddenly thought of what slogan he should shout?

For the king? That guy who couldn't even speak clearly had already fled to Canada!

For Britain? The British government will surrender soon!

For the British people? Forget it, they only know bread and milk!

Thinking of this, Lieutenant Dill threw away his bayonet and rifle, then sat down on the snow, covering his face and crying. His behavior seemed to have infected other people. Except for those who were killed or those who had run away, a dozen battle-hardened British gentlemen all dropped their weapons and burst into tears.

…

"Captain, you can move on. Our Italian warriors have eliminated all the British soldiers in front and captured 18 prisoners!"

Ten minutes after Lieutenant Dill and his men were captured, an Italian paratrooper second lieutenant riding a motorcycle told the unexpected news and was using the radio to contact the 3rd Company of the 516th Heavy Equipment Battalion (equipped with No. 4 F-type tanks) Captain Rudolf von Ribbentlow.

"What?" Captain Ribbentrop was stunned by the news. He was originally very worried about sending an Italian paratrooper company to serve as the vanguard for his tank company, so as soon as a fight broke out in front, he immediately asked the accompanying company to German marines position themselves around the tank. I also wanted to use the radio to call a platoon of No. 4 F tanks for reinforcements - this kind of tank equipped with a short-barreled 75mm gun is specially designed to deal with infantry.

As a result, before he could make an agreement with the commander of the 3rd company behind him, the Italian paratroopers had actually defeated the British.

"Ernst," Captain Ribbentrop said to the commander of the 3rd company through the throat communicator, "your tanks are no longer needed. The heroic Italians have done all the work."

"Rudolph, are you kidding?" The voice of the commander of the 3rd Company of the 516th Battalion came from the earphones.

"No, it's true. I've seen Italians coming over with British prisoners!" Captain Ribbentrop said, "It seems we need to get to know the Italians again."

It’s not the Italians who need to be reacquainted, but the British!

In the early morning of January 16, a collision between the two powerful search screens on the battlefield west of Hartlepool determined the winner in a short period of time. The German tanks and armored vehicles did not take part, and small groups of infantry alone swept away the British patrols and forward posts, and captured hundreds of prisoners.

By interrogating the prisoners, the attacking German-Italian forces quickly figured out the location of the minefields on the British front and the general deployment of troops.

Based on this important intelligence, the German-Italian artillery group quickly began targeted bombardment, and the front line on the west side of Hartlepool defended by the British army was immediately overwhelmed by fierce artillery fire.

When the bombardment first started, Major General Bradley, commander of the U.S. 28th Infantry Division, was having breakfast with Patton and discussing the attack on Stodonk. He had been busy from noon yesterday until early this morning before settling his troops near Stodonk. According to Stilwell's plan, the 28th Division and the 2nd Armored Division would launch an attack on Stodonk three days later.

General Patton, who had been on the battlefield for a while, reacted quickly. He jumped up as soon as the sound of artillery sounded.

"Fire artillery! The enemy is firing artillery!" He shouted to his chief of staff, Colonel Guy, "Go and find out the situation quickly to see if the enemy is about to attack."

Five minutes later, Colonel Gay ran into Patton's office from the war room in a panic.

"General, the forward position of the British 3rd Division west of Hartlepool has been severely bombarded!"

"Damn it! The Germans are going to counterattack!" General Patton made an accurate judgment at the first time. "They chose an open area and are obviously going to invest in armored groups... The British 3rd Division will definitely not be able to resist it. How long! The German armored groups will rush behind us soon!"

"No way?" Bradley had heard of the name of the British 3rd Division. "Isn't the British 3rd Division elite?"

"The British troops here were elite before the damn London protests!" Patton shook his head, "But not now... If you go around their positions and camps, you will know that they are finished. No, we can't Just sit back and wait for death. If the Germans get behind us, everything will be over."

Bradley looked at Barton who seemed to be panicking with some surprise, "George, is it that serious?"

"Of course!" Barton nodded very firmly.

"So...should we remind Lieutenant General Stilwell?" Bradley disagreed very much with Patton's evaluation of Stilwell - he was Stilwell's subordinate when he was an instructor at West Point Military Academy. Bradley admired Lieutenant Steve's military and academic level very much.

"Come on, that optimistic fool won't listen." Patton said as he walked out, walked to the door, and turned back to Bradley and said, "Omar, I want to arrange a breakout of the troops, you can also arrange it. !”

"Breakthrough!?" Bradley was stunned again and again. When did Barton become so timid? Actually thinking about escaping...