Arc of Gunfire

At noon on August 2, 917, the coastal defenses of the Western Front of Plossen: the Western Wall.

After inspecting the six forts, Marshal Erwin Rommel walked to the coastal breakwater and clasped his hands behind his back: "Very good, I am very happy to see that you have completed my request. This section of coastal defense is impeccable!

"The only problem is the soldiers!"

Romell looked at the Coast Guard soldiers lining up next to him.

"I have never seen soldiers of such poor quality. The soldiers of the youth division at least have physical fitness and the reactions of young people. What about you? Are you presbyopic?"

The commander of the 200th Coast Guard Division said: "The Coast Guard Division received those who failed the physical examination when it was established. Although most of us are short-sighted and have poor physical fitness, we can do well in the bunker with a machine gun that has been measured. As good as a regular soldier.

"And all of us can operate machine guns and artillery. Even the first wave of infantry divisions couldn't do this. We have not neglected our training over the years."

Marshal Erwin: "Yes, yes. I hope your training is useful! Because across the sea, there is a monster squatting! It is ready to jump across the narrow strait at any time and give us a fatal blow! A fatal blow!"

The marshal stopped, put his hands behind his back, and held the marshal's staff.

After a few seconds of silence, he looked at the sea and said: "The first 24 hours of the landing are the most critical. In the Kingdom of Sardinia, it was during the first 24 hours that I decisively launched an armored division to counterattack and drove the enemy into the sea.

"For soldiers on both sides of the war, the first day of landing will be the longest day in their lives."

The marshal turned around and repeated to all his staff: "The longest day!"

————

Across the sea, the headquarters of the Third United States Army.

Admiral Little John held a cigar in his mouth and paced back and forth in front of the window. Outside the window, heavy rain continued to fall, mixed with lightning and thunder.

"This damn weather, it looks like we won't be able to land again tomorrow! All three of my divisions are floating on the sea, floating! And it's weather like this!"

The chief of staff reminded: "We are mooring at the anchorage. There will be no big waves with the breakwater blocking it."

Little John: "When I say they are floating on the sea, they are floating! Don't refute me. You are the chief of staff. Your duty is to implement my orders, not to refute me!"

"My duties also include pointing out your mistakes and providing suggestions," the chief of staff reminded.

Little John waved his hand: "Okay, okay, you are right, you are a scholar, and I am a tank soldier!"

At this time, the door opened, and the confidential secretary came in with documents: "The latest weather report is out."

"Bring it here!" Little John rushed over, grabbed the report and read it carefully.

The chief of staff also leaned over and stretched his head to peek at the words on the document.

General John Jr. directly put the document into the hands of the Chief of Staff: "Take it. Prepare the car! I'm going to the Allied Forces Headquarters!"

Chief of Staff: "The report just said it might get better, maybe!"

"We can't wait any longer! Even if the weather is still like this tomorrow, we have to land."

Chief of Staff: "How to board? No, this is not in line with military common sense."

Admiral Little John ignored him at all, yelling to prepare the car and ran out.

————

Allied Forces Command, Office of the Supreme Commander.

"Even if the weather improves, considering the clouds on the sea, the good weather will only last for a few days. During this period, we must occupy Qinbao, otherwise all the landing troops will be in danger of running out of food, and subsequent troops will not be able to land. "The United Kingdom Army General Mago looked at General Ike, "The risk is very high, and I am opposed to landing now."

Admiral Ekko: "You always play steadily and steadily. This is your style. It is because of this style that Erwin Romell took advantage of you time and time again in the Mamluks.

"Sometimes maybe we should take a little risk. The intelligence from Ant shows that at least twenty divisions of troops have been transferred to the eastern front. What we are facing are the old, weak, sick and disabled of the coastal defense division. As long as we break through the beach, we will be You can drive straight in.”

Admiral Mago: "Then we have to wait until the weather improves. Who can guarantee that the weather will improve?"

At this time, the door of the office opened, and Admiral John Jr. rushed in with his signature cigar in his mouth: "Ike! The rain has lightened on the way I came here! Believe me, it's time to land!"

He did not close the door when he came in, so Admiral Cunningham, commander of the Royal Navy's Home Fleet, and Admiral Dowding of the Royal Air Force also came in.

Admiral Littlejohn: "The weather will get better and we'll be on the beach in Norman tomorrow, tomorrow!"

Admiral Cunningham: "But the waves in the strait are five meters high. Are you sure you want to cross the sea at this time?"

Admiral Ike: "What time is this report?"

"At two o'clock in the afternoon, the highest wave seen at each observation station was five meters, and the lowest was three meters."

Little John: "After the weather improves, it won't be so high! The tide is also suitable for landing! This is an opportunity, an opportunity given to us by God."

Ike shook his head: "Look again, it's only three o'clock in the afternoon. If I want to log in tomorrow, when will I make a decision at the latest?"

Ike's adjutant replied: "Eight o'clock tonight, Admiral."

"There's still time."

At this time, Admiral King, commander of the Allied Atlantic Fleet, entered the room and said to everyone: "It has stopped raining, gentlemen. Maybe the moment we are looking forward to is coming."

All the generals in the room turned to look at the windows.

Admiral Ike came to the window, pulled the latch, and pushed the window outward.

No rain came in.

Admiral Dowding: "I will ask the meteorological observatories in various places to confirm the situation."

"No need." Admiral Ike stopped him. "It's easier to make a decision early and act more calmly. It's tomorrow. We should take this risk. Tomorrow, August 3rd, is D-Day. Let us beat the Prossens hard." ”

————

A ship of the 1701st Transport Detachment is anchored in the port anchorage at one of the many ports in the United Kingdom.

The soldiers on board have been floating for almost two weeks, and have been rained on all day in the past few days.

Army Captain Thomas was lying in his hammock, swaying gently with the waves.

His friend, platoon leader Jack, came to him and complained loudly: "It is hell next to the toilet. The toilet is full of vomit, the trash can is full of vomit, the kerosene bucket is also full of vomit, every container is full of vomit. Objects, now they are using helmets to contain vomit.

"You should smell it. Going to the tuba is torture. Torture!"

Thomas: "Then you go and pull him into the sea. Many people did this. Jefferson from Company F even fell into the sea and drowned."

"I can't swim," Jack said.

Thomas got up: "What? Hell, did you know we were going to participate in a landing battle?"

"I know, but hell, this may be the largest landing battle in the entire war. Do you think I can say not to go? If it were you, would you not go?"

Thomas: "I'm different. Many of my men died at the hands of the Prosens. In the Mamluks, in Tunisia, in Sicily - and the damn Kingdom of Sardinia, as long as I'm alive, I will fight with the Prosens." The most important thing is that I can swim.”

Jack: "Fuck it."

At this time, a whistle sounded outside the cabin.

The originally noisy cabin suddenly became quiet.

Everyone looked in the direction of the hatch.

The whistle sounded again.

Thomas: "Do you blow the whistle casually when the ship is anchored?"

As soon as he finished speaking, someone ran into the cabin: "The anchor has been weighed! We are setting off!"

Everyone was stunned, and then someone shouted: "Fuck! I haven't finished writing the letter to my mother yet! Damn it, I hope I can hand it over in time before leaving the port!"

More people were cheering: "Let's go!"

"The damn days are over!"

"We're going to fuck the Prosens!"

Everyone was cheering, even though half of the people in the cabin had never seen a Prossen in their lives and had no blood feud, they were still cheering.

Soon, the cheers converged into a very non-standard anchor-weighing song - it was a naval military song, and there were only armies in the cabin, and the navy and army of the United States were not harmonious, but no one cared about this at this moment.

————

At midnight on August 3, Norfolk Air Force Base in the United Kingdom.

Three hundred C47 transport planes were lined up on the runway and apron, and the roar of their engines was like rolling thunder.

The first C47 took off, towing the glider of Komandar who was attacking the bridge.

In the sky, fleets of aircraft are forming, and huge clusters taking off from three hundred air force bases are gathering.

The weather has cleared with only a few clouds.

On the roof of a house next to the base, a young boy is looking up at the sky.

His mother opened the attic window and leaned out, shouting: "Harry! Be careful and fall like this!"

Little boy: "I brought a broom!"

"Only little boys in fairy tale books can fly on broomsticks! Come back to me quickly!"

"Mom, there are many planes in the sky!"

The woman looked up at the sky: "Yeah, the buzzing is really noisy."

"They are going to fight the Proscenians, and they will avenge their father!" the little boy shouted, "please let me give them a gift!"

The woman was silent, her eyes gradually filled with tears as she looked at the sky.

She did not continue to ask the little boy to come back into the house.

————

An hour and a half later, over the Principality of Normandy.

Major Mark held the joystick and looked out the window at the dark earth.

"Damn, I can't see anything. Where is the guiding light of the resistance?"

The co-pilot shook his head: "I didn't see it either, the ground below was pitch black——"

As soon as he finished speaking, an anti-aircraft gun shell exploded in front of the aircraft, and shrapnel hit the outer shell of the cockpit.

Major Mark: "Do it!"

Immediately afterwards, beams of searchlight beams lit up on the ground, intensive anti-aircraft firepower rose into the sky, and artillery shells continued to explode in the air.

Major Mark: "Now at least we know we didn't fly back to the United States!"

Before he finished speaking, the leading aircraft in front was shot, dragging flames and slowly falling to the ground. The paratroopers in the cabin flew out one after another. Because the parachute opening hook was not attached, none of their parachutes opened.

Major Mark: "We have become a guidance machine."

He turned on the radio: "This is the guidance machine, follow us. Has anyone seen the guidance sign on the ground?"

"The ground is full of fucking fire. Even if there are guidance signs, we can't see them." The pilot of an unknown plane replied on the radio.

At this time, the paratrooper commander of the Mark aircraft put his head into the cockpit: "Are you at the airdrop site?"

Mark: "Look at the traffic light, the red light just hasn't arrived yet. Don't worry, I'll cut off the traffic light when we get there!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the plane shook.

Mark: "What happened just now? Check the status of the plane!"

"No need to confirm, our engine is on fire." The first officer said, "I suggest turning off the lights and letting them get down."

Major Mark pressed the button and the red light in the cabin turned green.

The paratrooper sitting next to the door shouted: "The plane is on fire, I'm getting off!"

He jumped right down.

The paratrooper commander exclaimed: "You don't have a hook! Damn it! Hook it up quickly. Once you hook it up, jump down. Quickly!"

Mark: "The good news is that the engine fire is out, and we don't have to worry about the fire burning off the wings. The bad news is that we are lowering the altitude and will soon reach a height where you can't safely parachute-"

He turned around and was surprised to find that all the paratroopers had already disembarked from the cabin.

The paratrooper commander patted Mark on the shoulder: "Thank you and wish you good luck."

After saying that, he turned around and walked quickly to the cabin door, jumping down without hesitation.

Mark glanced at the co-pilot: "I plan to make an emergency landing on the beach."

The co-pilot didn't answer, his head tilted to one side.

Only then did Mark realize that the co-pilot had been shot at some point.

"damn it."

————

August 3, 0230 hours, Prosen Western Front Headquarters.

Erwin Romell pushed open the bedroom door and asked while getting dressed: "What woke me up?"

"Paratrooper, Your Excellency Marshal."

Erwin stopped buttoning his buttons and looked up at the adjutant: "Paratroopers? Size? Location?"

"In the Principality of Normandy, the scale is still being confirmed. The resistance cut off our phone lines and we are now in chaos."

The marshal frowned: "The resistance organization cut off the phone line at this time... This seems to be a long-planned large-scale operation. Restore contact with my armored division immediately - no, I will go to the 21st Armored Headquarters in person to prepare Car and armed escort.

"Also, send someone to the 507th Heavy Equipment Battalion and ask them to set off as soon as they get information about the enemy's attack location!"

Adjutant: "The 507th Heavy Equipment Battalion is the Knights of Asgard. Can't we just command it directly?"

Erwin: "I am the Commander-in-Chief on the Western Front! Tell him to either accept my command or wait for a military court!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the sound of submachine gunfire came from outside.

"What's going on?" Erwin asked.

At this time, the head of the guard regiment appeared with a submachine gun: "The resistance organization threw a grenade at our guard post, but it did not explode."

Before he finished speaking, there was another sound of strafing from MG42 outside, followed by several more explosions.

Erwin: "Eliminate the resistance organization! Also, does the Guard Corps have tanks?"

The head of the guard looked embarrassed: "We only have half-tracks."

"You don't even have a No. 2 tank? A half-track will do. Is there a half-track equipped with a 20mm machine gun?"

"No."

"You have nothing!" Erwin scolded, "I need armor to send me to the 21st outfit now! Forget it, a half-track will do. The first 24 hours of the landing are the most critical. At this time, the armored divisions are deployed to counterattack. Before the enemy's anti-armor forces land, you can drive them into the sea within a short time! This is how it is in the Kingdom of Sardin. Prepare me a half-track, I'm going to go to the 21st!"

————

After Captain Ivenson landed, he immediately touched his "leg bag". This was the nickname of the equipment newly issued by the paratroopers before the start of the attack. It was mainly used to hold paratroopers' weapons.

Captain Ivenson then only touched the broken straps, which had apparently been severed by fragments from an anti-aircraft gun.

"Oh shit."

He looked up at the sky, where Prosen's anti-aircraft guns were pouring fire.

But the good news is, he hid a small pistol because he didn't trust the new leg bag.

He took out his pistol and held a gadget for identifying friend or foe in his other hand, and walked forward in the dark.

Soon he heard movement ahead.

Ivenson pressed the thing in his hand, and the toy-like thing made a crisp "click" sound.

His heart was in his throat. If it were a Prosin, he would have to use a pistol to defend himself against the enemy.

The good news is that Onsa came from the other side with a very authentic accent.

Ivenson quickly leaned over: "Fuck! You can't speak, you should respond with two clicks!"

"Sorry, but I lost that thing."

Evenson recognized the voice: "Pastor?"

This is the chaplain of their battalion.

"Is this voice Captain Ivenson? Hello!"

"Pastor, what are you doing?" Ivenson got through the trees, and then discovered that there was a swamp behind him. He stopped next to the swamp and looked at the pastor lying on a branch. "Are you drowning? Do you need help?"

"No, I'm fine, I'm looking for my Bible and communion box, I'm a priest and I can't live without this, it's like my weapon!"

Evenson frowned: "Uh, Pastor, do you have a real weapon? I remember you should have a Garand semi-automatic rifle?"

"Good question, I can't find it. I only have half of the strap left in my leg bag. That's why I need to find my Bible so that when I meet the Proscenians, I can chant the scriptures and influence them!"

Evanson: "Huh?"

Chaplain: "I'm serious. Come on, Captain, the soldiers need your command."

"Damn it." Ivenson cursed, "No, I'll help you find the Bible, and then we'll find the troops together."

"No, good news, I touched it!" the priest said, taking out a package from the water. "It's intact! Let's go, Captain!"