Chapter 224: The Station

Advanced chapter until 500+ at patreon.com/caleredhair

In fact, this decisive naval battle was advantageous for Britain. First, the German Navy had only recently been formed, and its combat effectiveness had not yet fully developed. Second, Britain had just expressed its appeasement and support for Germany through Turkey, which had to a certain extent served to deceive the German army.

However, Churchill was still under a great deal of pressure, because this was, after all, the first large-scale operation he had organized since taking office, and also because he had not informed those British politicians who were hoping for a war between Germany and the Soviet Union about this mission. He had bet all his chips on the victory of destroying the German High Seas Fleet in one fell swoop.

But just as the British Royal Navy was searching for the main force of the German High Seas Fleet on the vast, boundless sea, at an inconspicuous railway station in Germany, it was crowded with soldiers of the 1st Panzer Corps being transferred from the Eastern Front to the Western Front. The tanks of the 1st Panzer Division were fixed onto flatbed railcars, and the carriages were at this moment filled with soldiers.

A few officers were allowed to get off the train to smoke during the stop. To increase transport capacity, all officers below the rank of regimental commander had been squeezed into the soldiers’ carriages. Many didn’t even have a seat. But compared to the combat days in Poland, the days within Germany could be described as enjoyable.

There was hot food every day. They no longer had to gnaw on those hardtack biscuits and salty, bitter dried vegetables. This was already very, very good treatment. Although the carriages were crowded, everyone could finally get a good night’s sleep, because they didn’t have to worry about Polish partisans throwing hand grenades into their barracks.

General Guderian, at this moment, did not have his own private railway car either, but was squeezed into a carriage with his staff officers and a guard company. Through the window, he saw two tanks on the freight platform. It seemed they were preparing to board here, but unfortunately, this train really had no extra space.

“It seems our heroes have no place to board,” Guderian said with a smile to his adjutant, then pointed out the window. “You get off and give General von Rundstedt of Army Group A a call. Have him help make arrangements. After all, we are under his command now, so it’s not too much trouble.”

The adjutant followed Guderian’s gaze out the window. His eyes lit up and he said with a smile, “I was wondering who was making the Corps Commander so concerned. Isn’t this our big star crew? Tank 113, this is our number one tank ace.”

“Stop with the sarcastic remarks and go,” Guderian said with a smile. “He’s something of a student of mine. I was the one who taught them their first lesson on tank tactics. It’s already been almost seven years since then.”

Time really did fly. Seven years ago, Germany’s armored forces were still hiding their heads and tails, but now, they were already famous throughout the world. They had made their name in the battle for Poland and had become a super trump card in Germany’s hand.

On the platform, looking at the chaotic train and the station staff, Rein leaned against his tank with great contentment, chewing the rich chocolate in his mouth. This was a gift that the Führer had specifically found and sent to him. Some were high-grade chocolates made in Germany, some were luxury goods imported from the United States, but now they were all in the storage box of tank 113, and some were in the paint-worn tin box in Rein’s breast pocket.

“Any regrets? About not staying in Berlin…” Andre asked, walking over with a cigarette dangling from his lips, the brightly polished Iron Cross hanging on his chest.

“I regret it,” Rein replied with a grin. “I regret not leaving you in Berlin.”

Andre laughed out loud, and Bruce, who was sitting on the tank leaning against the turret, also began to laugh. They were so happy now. They didn’t have to worry about death, nor did they have to worry about going hungry. Bruce had even brought many bottles of champagne, which had taken up the storage space for four shells.

Nearly half of the German army was heading west, which made the originally slightly abundant German railway transport system become extremely congested. Hundreds of thousands of infantry, thousands of cars and motorcycles, and over a thousand tanks—these troops were heading to the Western Front in a mighty torrent. Everyone knew that the Franco-German war was on the verge of breaking out.

So everyone was enjoying the still-beautiful peaceful times with abandon. The officers of the troops also temporarily turned a blind eye to the disorderly conduct of their soldiers, even condoning things like drinking and gambling to relieve the tense pressure before the great battle.

“Hey, you grunts! Who told you to park your tank here?” an arrogant railway soldier said, walking over. On his chest hung the unique engraved iron plate of the railway troops, which was reminiscent of a medieval knight.

“Oh, we’re from Berlin. We’re waiting here to board the train,” Andre replied, turning his head.

The SS? The railway soldier, seeing the uniforms worn by these soldiers, felt a little regret for his previous arrogance. After all, the black uniform of the SS and the SS lightning bolt collar tab were a very special existence. At least in Germany, the mission of the SS was not combat, but arrests and interrogations.

“The SS? The SS can’t disrupt transport either! This is wartime! Everything is subordinate to the war effort,” an officer from the 1st Panzer Division who was smoking nearby said, glancing sideways at Rein and the others and snorting with a cigarette in his mouth. “What makes you so special? You’re from the 3rd SS Panzer Division, aren’t you?”

Is he asking the obvious? Rein raised an eyebrow. The codename for the 3rd SS Panzer Division was the “Totenkopf,” and all the armored vehicles of this division had a skull emblem on the right front fender. As long as you saw the skull, it had to be a unit from this division.

“What’s it to you if we’re from the SS? We’re on our way to Berlin under orders. Are you trying to start something by saying that?” Bruce said, climbing up from the tank and jumping down, his tall and sturdy frame towering over them.

113? It couldn’t be such a coincidence, could it? The officer who had deliberately been trying to annoy the 3rd SS Panzer Division’s face changed at once. This 113 was a legend of the German army on the Eastern Front. Not just the SS, but even he and his unit worshipped tank 113 as an idol.

“Bruce, you must salute an officer when you see one,” Rein said, swallowing the chocolate in his mouth. He walked forward, stood at attention, and raised his right hand. “Heil Führer.”

“Heil Führer,” the officer immediately returned the salute.

The railway soldier beside him broke out in a sweat. A lieutenant and a sergeant with a Knight’s Cross. When two gods fight, why do you have to drag me into it? Why?

“I’m very sorry. I was rude just now,” the flustered lieutenant said, having clearly seen the half-concealed Knight’s Cross on Rein’s collar. He apologized very politely. “Was your trip to Berlin pleasant?”

“Not bad,” Rein said with a smile. “But it’s still better to be able to fight side by side with everyone.”

Just as he finished speaking, the stationmaster of this small town rushed over. He had received a call from the adjutant of the commander of Army Group A, who was also the commander-in-chief of the Western Front, General von Rundstedt. He had been ordered to personally arrange carriages for the two tanks so that they could arrive at the Western Front with their own unit.

Thus, the lieutenant who had been trying to cause trouble sheepishly returned to his own train, and Rein’s and the others’ tanks were also successfully loaded onto the train to the Western Front. Of course, the railway soldier now had a new topic to boast about to others: he had seen a young tank commander whose tank was painted with three thick lines and four thin lines.

The Führer and the Wehrmacht High Command had ordered the battle-hardened 1st Panzer Corps to be secretly transferred to the Western Front, while the gap on the Eastern Front was filled by the 4th Panzer Corps, which had not participated in any major battles. In this way, Germany’s most elite 1st, 2nd, and 7th Panzer Corps, as well as the 5th and 6th Light Panzer Corps, were all concentrated on the Western Front. Germany’s deployment of forces against France was almost complete.

And the Soviet Union, due to its own problems, seemed unlikely to continue to provoke Germany for a short period of time. The entire East entered a relatively stable period of standoff. Taking advantage of this period, Akado decided to, like Hitler in the past, truly provoke a world war, first by completely driving the unprepared France out of the stage of world hegemony.

However, once a war with France began, it would also mean a complete falling out with Britain, which would truly mean going to war with the world. The raw materials and various materials that Germany lacked would all be blockaded by the British Navy. And that time would be when Germany was truly at its most vulnerable, and also at its most difficult.

He had to meticulously calculate every step, because it would decide the future of Germany and himself. Attacking France was just the beginning. The subsequent problems would be the most fatal. And these choices were all related to the future main direction of Germany’s attack and had to be deployed as early as possible.

Germany was now once again facing three choices: First, after finishing off France, to infiltrate the Balkan Peninsula to the south, but this would cause dissatisfaction with its ally, Italy. Second, to make a move in Africa, to strive to seize control of the Mediterranean Sea as soon as possible and to control the Suez Canal, which also conflicted with Italy’s direction of attack. Third, to attack the Soviet Union to the east and embark on the path of a German-Soviet war.

And now, Akado had one more option than Hitler. This option was to land in Britain. Because Akado’s navy had given up on battleships and heavy cruisers and had chosen aircraft carriers as its main means of attack, the naval power in Akado’s hands was now a little stronger than Hitler’s.

So Akado still had a sliver of hope, which was for the German Navy to heavily damage the British Royal Navy, to gain control of the English Channel for a few months, and to protect the army in an all-out landing on the British mainland. Although this plan had been discussed dozens of times, Field Marshal von Brauchitsch still lacked confidence that they could defeat France and the British Expeditionary Force.

Therefore, up to now, this plan, called “Operation Cerberus,” had always been discussed in the name of a contingency plan. Although Akado had always favored this plan in his heart, in fact, apart from the Führer, no one believed that Germany had the ability to complete it.