Chapter 204: Insignificant People

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When Rommel came over to report that his armored forces’ probing attack that morning had been repulsed by the defenders, Akado was clearly in a very good mood. He chatted with his trusted and favored general about the weather and even asked cordially, “How was the canned food last night? Did you sleep well?”

“My Führer, I slept very well last night. I haven’t been able to sleep for so long in the past few days,” Rommel replied proudly. “A few days ago, I had to constantly chase after my troops. They are my best subordinates.”

“All soldiers who dare to go to the battlefield and bleed for the fatherland are the sons of the German people, General Rommel!” Akado said with a hearty laugh. “You are also very brave. Fanny often mentions you to me. She says the photos you send them are very good. She once said that my chief photographer, Mr. Hugo, wanted to invite you to the best restaurant in Berlin for a steak.”

The photographer, Hugo, who was holding a camera to the side, found an angle and took a picture, then quickly lowered his camera and waved his hands. “I said I would treat General Rommel to a meal! I didn’t say it would be at the best restaurant! My salary can’t afford that!”

“Hahahaha. No matter! I am very fond of photography. If Mr. Hugo doesn’t mind, I can invite you to discuss photography together. My treat, at the best restaurant,” Rommel said with a loud laugh.

“Don’t let the armored forces attack anymore. Urban combat is not suitable for them. Let them pull back and give up their attack positions,” Akado said to Rommel. “Give your subordinates a few days’ leave, and then tell them that as the German Führer, I am very grateful for their brave combat. This is the honor they deserve.”

“They will be very happy to hear the Führer’s praise,” Rommel replied at attention.

Akado thought for a moment and then said, “Don’t organize any more large-scale attacks. I don’t want to exchange the lives of soldiers for those honors. Cut off all of Warsaw’s energy and food supplies. Wait for them to surrender and come out on their own.”

List immediately nodded in agreement with Akado’s suggestion. “The Führer cherishes the lives of the frontline soldiers. For the grassroots officers and men, this is definitely inspiring good news.”

“Rest assured, General List,” Fanny said with a smile from the side. “We will definitely report this news truthfully, so that the German people can all understand the Führer’s painstaking efforts.”

While the Führer and his generals were chatting and laughing at the front, while photos of the Führer standing next to his plane were plastered all over the streets, many more people were never noticed by history. They were like extras in a TV drama, not even leaving a name behind.

In fact, some people have glamorous jobs, where they can have dinner by a campfire, accompanied by a group of guards, politicians, and generals. Such a person can casually pat a soldier on the shoulder and encourage him to continue fighting, and that soldier will be moved to tears. Even though the phrase “You’ve done well, keep it up” translates to something like, “Go on, go to the front and die!”

Clearly, Akado was this type of person. But such people were, after all, a minority. Most people did not have this protagonist’s halo, or rather, the overpowering aura of a superior. They went to work every day, got off work, went to the battlefield, came back… just to get paid or to be able to live a good life.

Are you envious of those air force pilots who soar in the boundless blue sky? That feeling of shuttling through the clouds with the roar of the engine, riddling the opponent’s plane with bullets and then, like a meteor, brushing past the burning enemy plane—isn’t it exhilarating?

Those tankers in their tanks, with sweat sliding down their cheeks from the scorching heat, turning their opponents into a pile of wreckage with the loud roar of the tank cannon, humming a song in a hail of bullets and enjoying the baptism of war—isn’t it thrilling?

Don’t envy those professions that look incredibly majestic, because often, such professions also represent high risk. Especially in times of war, the more you become the object of people’s envy, the more likely you are to become the next fool to be killed in action.

And what allows these star branches of the military to shine so brightly are actually the ordinary, unsung soldiers behind them. Many soldiers never have the chance to see the enemy with their own eyes, never have the thrill of raising a weapon and pouring ammunition at a target. But without them, the precise war machine would never be able to operate.

Although it was already the end of September, the weather in Poland was still very hot. It was even more unbearable when doing some heavy physical labor. Two ground crew members of a bomber squadron were holding clipboards and carefully inspecting the aerial bombs piled up on the side of the runway.

These ground crew members were the kind of military branch that young people didn’t particularly like. In terms of the nature of their work, they were the so-called movers and statisticians. But without these ground staff, those advanced fighter planes would become a pile of scrap metal. So although they were never highly regarded, the training and replenishment of the air force ground crew had always been personally supervised by the Führer through General Kesselring.

On a field not far away, three shirtless ground crewmen were using tools to hang bombs on the wings of a Do-217 bomber that was about to take off. This bomber was currently the only medium bomber in service with Germany. Although there were strict requirements to wear protective clothing and pay attention to military appearance, due to the hot weather and the tedious work, most ground crew members still chose to take off their clothes to work.

The Do-217 bomber had improved its own defensive systems, equipped with three powerful 13mm machine guns. This powerful armament made the Do-217 more than a match for Polish planes. The German Air Force had even, at one point, canceled the escort missions of the Fw-190D fighters that accompanied the bombers to save fuel.

From their combat record, one could see just how huge the German Air Force’s advantage was: the Do-217 bombers had shot down 29 Polish Air Force fighters in the Polish campaign, while losing only 17 of their own. And of these losses, only six were shot down by Polish fighters.

An Fw-190D fighter with a Mickey Mouse painted on its nose taxied on the runway for a while and finally came to a stop at the end. The pilot climbed out of the cockpit, and several ground crew members hurried forward to help. The pilot took off his leather helmet with goggles, tossed it to a ground crew officer, and said with a mischievous grin, “The elevator trim you adjusted for me was fantastic! When my wingman gets back, the two of us will treat you to champagne.”

“Galland! How many did you shoot down today?” the ground crew officer said, catching Galland’s helmet with his hand and laughing. “You think you can get rid of me with just one drink? That won’t do! You’ll have to give me at least two packs of cigarettes.”

Galland complained loudly as he handed his parachute pack to a ground crew member on the side, “Hey, don’t even mention it! A few days ago, those Polish air force guys were like bulls on cannabis. On the 17th and 18th, didn’t I get 10 kills a day? But today, I flew around for an hour and only saw two…”

“You should be content. The two fighters that took off an hour before you didn’t even see a single Polish plane,” the ground crew officer said with a loud laugh. “Yesterday morning, the Führer took a plane back to Berlin. Why didn’t you fly escort?”

“There are no Polish planes on the Eastern Front that can catch the Führer’s Dornier passenger plane,” Galland said as he walked back. “I can’t do that kind of sycophantic stuff. Tearing the enemy’s planes into pieces in the sky is more my style.”

“I hear that Do-217 squadron over there gave the Führer a gift? And the Führer liked it very much?” Galland asked, handing a cigarette to the ground crew officer beside him and putting one in his own mouth. “Can you find a way to install a camera on my plane?”

“What? Changing careers? Want to go work for the reconnaissance troops?” the ground crew officer said with a mischievous grin.

“Sigh… It seems I’m really not the type who can curry favor with my superiors,” Galland said with a sigh, then laughed heartily. “Let’s go! Time for a drink! I don’t have a patrol mission until tomorrow afternoon.”

The Do-217 and Stuka had become the most popular aircraft in the German army. These planes paralyzed the enemy’s land forces, reinforcements, and supplies, destroying them before they could even reach the front line. To commemorate the former German President, the old World War I soldier, Field Marshal Hindenburg, this Do-217 bomber squadron was named the Hindenburg Squadron.

The insignia of this unit was an eagle dropping a bomb on a railway track. Their mission was to attack the enemy’s railway transport lines. But now they regarded all of Poland as their target, and thus they brutally bombed every place—including the city center of Warsaw. On the night before Akado returned to Berlin, the squadron’s commander had compiled the photos taken by the bomber pilots into an album and presented it to the great German Führer.

And the next day, they had frantically bombed the surrounded Polish Pomeranian Army north of Warsaw, dropping 20 tons of ammunition in one go. In the end, the Pomeranian Army laid down its arms and surrendered. The commander of this army group, Bortnowski, surrendered to the German armored forces on his front, and then, when Rommel arrived, he handed over his ceremonial sword. On September 27, as the last organized field army of Poland, the Pomeranian Army was annihilated.

Now, in Poland, the air force could no longer take off in organized formations to engage the German Air Force, and the army had become a turtle in a jar. Apart from several hundred thousand troops on the Soviet border, the armies in all other directions had been wiped out. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to turn back and fight, but on the one hand, they were worried about being pursued by the Soviets, and on the other, the German army was advancing too fast for them to react. Before they could even make a judgment, Warsaw had already been surrounded, communications had been cut, and victory completely belonged to the Germans.

Akado had made a high-profile inspection of his efficient and powerful army in Poland and had then secretly returned to Berlin by plane. And by the time the Führer’s plane landed in Berlin, Kluge, who had been working at the High Command in Berlin, finally learned that he had been promoted due to Akado’s whim. He was now the commander of the newly formed Army Group F, stationed in Poland.