Chapter 378: The Patriots

At the same time as the United States was in a mad rush to support Britain, German tanks had already swept across the west coast of France.

At the same time as the United States was in a mad rush to support Britain, German tanks had already swept across the west coast of France. Seventy thousand British soldiers had been captured without much resistance. In this way, not a single unit of the British Expeditionary Force deployed on the European continent had been able to escape intact. All of them had been captured and sent to German concentration camps.

And at this time, the front fender of a tank from the 1st Panzer Division, the German armored unit closest to Paris, was already less than 20 kilometers from the city center. De Gaulle had organized a minor resistance. Two B1 tanks had attempted to launch a surprise attack on the flank of the German tank units, but the vigilant German reconnaissance units had discovered this ambush circle, had called in the Stukas from the air to destroy the French tanks, and had also taken out the twenty ambushing French soldiers in the vicinity.

In the German capital, in a location near the suburbs, people were lining up to wait to fill out the registration forms to join the invincible German army and to help their nation expand its territory. These citizens who had come to register were filled with an inexplicable fanaticism for the Greater German Party and the great Führer, Akado Rudolph. They were all willing to place their hands on the national flag and swear an oath of allegiance to the great Führer and this country.

This place could be described as a sea of people, in no way inferior to the sailor recruitment office in Britain. This nation called Germany was just as outstanding as the British. They were willing to give their lives for their motherland, willing to forge the sword of Germany with the plow of Germany.

This was also the foundation of Germany’s invincibility. This was also the driving force behind Germany’s strength and prosperity. One after another, the young and strong men would walk to a truck on the side after filling out their forms. When a truck was full, someone would lead them away. What awaited them would be sixty days of arduous training. These men would have to fire at least 300 rounds of ammunition before they could leave the rookie camp and be assigned to the frontline units to fight for their motherland and for honor.

Although compared to the era of the Wehrmacht, this kind of accelerated training was already quite lenient, it was still one of the strictest training standards on the European continent. In comparison, the main forces of the British were at best at this standard, while the later-mobilized French soldiers only had two weeks of training, and the Italians’ requirements were even lower…

So even these later replacement soldiers could be called elite infantry. It was just that compared to the veterans who had experienced the Polish and Belgian campaigns, these new soldiers seemed a little bit green. As long as they could survive the first few days of combat, then these soldiers could immediately exert a powerful combat effectiveness and become the battle-hardened warriors under the Führer’s command.

At the front of the seemingly endless queue, which had suddenly stopped its slow crawl, a man of about 55 stood before the recruitment desk. He had one hand on the edge of the table, and the other was leaning on a long Mauser 1898 rifle.

“Old sir, this is a recruitment office. At your age, please don’t cause trouble…” an officer in charge of recruitment said, trying to persuade him, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “As you can see, we only want unemployed men between the ages of 16 and 40. You’re at least 50. We really can’t take you…”

“What? You’re not even willing to feed one more person? I may be an old man, but I don’t have any special skills. When it comes to killing people on the battlefield, I’m the ancestor of you kids who haven’t even grown hair yet!” the old man said, with a fiery temper, slamming the table and cursing loudly. “When I was fighting the British with this old partner, you were just being born!”

As he spoke, he shook the old Mauser rifle in his hand, his face full of pride and satisfaction. Because it had been well-maintained, his voice was like a great bell when he spoke, full of vigor. It seemed as if he were about to tear down even this simple recruitment office’s awning.

“Old sir, please don’t make a scene. We know you’ve fought in a war, but what year is it now? Can you catch up to a car or a tank?” a young man who was queuing up behind the old man also tried to persuade him.

“Young man, I, an old man, have no other skills. I’ve lived off the state’s subsidy by virtue of having fought the British. I don’t know how to do anything but kill,” the old man said with a sigh. “I just don’t want to let this skill of mine go to waste…”

“Listen to you. What kind of special skill could you have? Give us a demonstration, and we’ll open our eyes,” the young officer at the recruitment office said with a smile.

The middle-aged officer on the side, who had been silent all along, frowned and finally spoke, but not to the old man, but to reprimand the young officer. “How can you speak like that? Do you still remember the Führer’s admonition to us? Stand up and recite it for me!”

“Yes, sir!” The young officer immediately put away his arrogance, stood at attention, and began to recite the Führer’s admonition to the recruitment office. “Since I have become the German Führer, I have not dared to look down on the heroes of the world, have not dared to forget the great trust of the people, have not dared to deceive the heroes of the nation. You are to go and recruit elite soldiers for the Reich. You must not have a contemptuous heart, you must not have an arrogant thought, you must not take away the wishes of others, you must not laugh at the aspirations of the foolish.”

“Good! Just for these few words, I, an old man, will sell my old bones for this Führer!” the old man said with a nod and a smile. “Let me show you my skills, so you can hurry up and give me a form and let me enlist.”

He laughed loudly as he stomped on the bolt of his rifle with his foot. With a crisp clatter, the bolt was pulled back. The chamber was surprisingly rust-free, as if it were brand new. Without seeing the old man move, he just gently kicked again, and the bolt closed, chambering a round.

He lifted the rifle with his right hand, a rifle that had long since been phased out but had been maintained as if it were new. The long gun drew a beautiful circle in the air and fell into the old man’s hands. The old man did not aim. He just thrust the long gun forward, and with a “crack!“, a gunshot rang out. He had hit the flagpole of a distant building. Dust flew up, and the flagpole swayed, drawing applause and cheers from the countless people in the long queue behind him.

The old man did not speak. He deftly moved his right hand from the trigger position, and with a clatter, the second round was chambered. His strong and powerful large hand was as steady as a rock. He tilted his head slightly, and the sound of a gunshot rose again. With a “crack!“, the bullet, as if it had eyes, once again hit the same rooftop flagpole, nearly three hundred meters away, once again kicking up a cloud of white dust and making the flagpole shake.

“Good!” More people began to applaud. The sound of their cheers attracted the attention of the people nearby who had stopped to watch after hearing the gunshots, and they all craned their necks. Even the young officer who had just been arrogant was now staring with wide eyes, speechless.

“Old sir, your marksmanship is remarkable!” the middle-aged officer said with a smile and a clap of his hands. “This is a downtown area. It’s better not to open fire casually. The police will probably be here soon.”

“I was embarrassed to say it at the beginning, for fear that you would say I was bragging. The big-bearded man with the sniper rifle on the poster behind you—he’s my son!” the old gentleman said, his words stunning. He pointed to the poster that the recruitment office had put up on the wall to build momentum, his voice full of pride.

“The old gentleman is the father of that sniper genius?” Even the middle-aged officer was surprised and asked, “The father of the man who has killed 210 of the enemy?”

“Genius, my ass,” the old man snorted with a look of disdain. “Wasn’t it me who taught him everything? The few tricks he has, didn’t he learn them all from me, an old man?”

This was clearly a boast, but the middle-aged officer did not expose it. He said with a smile, “If the old gentleman does not mind, please come with me to chat in detail. The Führer has said that an army of a thousand is easy to get, but a single general is hard to find. It would be a pity for the old gentleman to go to the front line. If you can pass on this skill of yours to the soldiers of the Reich, then wouldn’t everyone be able to shoot with a hundred percent accuracy?”

The officer went around his desk and immediately pulled the old man toward an open-top car parked not far away. As he walked, he said something, which drew the envy of the people who were queuing up to join the army behind him.

Looking at the crowd behind him, the young officer blushed slightly and coughed, and then, steeling himself, continued his work. But because of the old man’s “performance,” the scene of people signing up became even more enthusiastic. The queue behind him still had no end in sight. It was a sea of people and very lively.

Compared to the lively recruitment office, another recruitment office was also overcrowded. This recruitment office was recruiting young people with skills and old workers. Compared to Britain’s vast number of seafaring families, Germany was indeed much inferior in terms of navigation. But Germany had a solid industrial foundation and had once been bound by the “Treaty of Versailles,” so there were as many unemployed workers in the cities and towns as there were hairs on an ox.

Some of the old skilled workers who had already retired had all requested to return to their posts, either to teach new apprentices or to help out. In any case, they had to do their part for the rise of the Reich. With the enthusiastic registration of these people, the Führer’s hope of having Germany double its industrial output value again in 1938 did not seem to be a difficult matter.

Just as the crowd at the registration point here was boiling with excitement, just as Germany’s development was proceeding in full swing, a telegram had grown wings and had flown to the telegraph office of the Presidential Palace. In the end, after being decoded, it was placed on the desk of the Führer, Akado.

Akado picked up the telegram, which began with “Italy,” with a frown, glanced at it, and then tossed it aside with a bitter smile. And August, on his side, picked up the telegram and looked at it, and was so shocked by the Führer’s foresight that he was dumbfounded.

It was written clearly on the document: 32 Italian divisions had engaged in a battle of unprecedented scale with 16 French divisions at the border. The Italian forces were ultimately no match for the French and had retreated back to the border. The French army, due to logistical pressure and the crisis in the capital, had not launched a pursuit of the retreating Italian forces.

“You really predicted it, my Führer!” August said with the same bitter smile as Akado. He placed the telegram back on the table and asked, “Then, according to the Führer’s wishes, how should we deal with this Italy, which is so weak in combat?”

“What should be given, must still be given,” Akado said helplessly. “Compared to the Italian side, I’m more worried about the problems on the French side.”

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