Battle of the Third Reich

"Every road has an end, we just have to follow the road. If you have read this chapter, please move to: Chinese. Read the latest chapter..." Kevin. Wallace Ensign stood high On the high earth slope, looking at the blood-red cliff in front of the sunset, I couldn't help expressing my heartfelt emotion.

"Fart down, where is the end point? Isn't this the English Channel?" The Scot squatted beside the bushes of wild daisies with his head in his hands. He took off the black round flat hat and scratched the palm hard. Short brown hair.

"Sir, I think I know where we are." Sergeant Irving Kusmo ran over with a map. He crouched beside the platoon leader and spread the map on the lawn beside the road.

"I climbed the roof of the farm over there and carefully observed the surrounding terrain. This map indicates that we should now be near Kingston. Go along the coast to Dover, and walk in that direction to reach Di. Yeah."

"It's getting dark, we'll go to the farm and rest. The soldiers have been marching for two hours. We need to find a place to camp and burn some hot water." Wallace scratched his tousled hair and restarted Bring a military cap.

"We should actually turn at the intersection ahead. This is a viewing path. Below your position is a golf course. That direction is a vacation villa area. We really shouldn't take a short cut and turn over those two paths. Shrub wall, otherwise you can already see the road sign to Dover." The sergeant folded the map, and spread salt on the long row of wounds mercilessly.

"We are Scots, and we never get lost in the wilderness." Wallace grabbed the blades of the poor plant with anger and rubbed it in his hands.

"Not us, but you, you are the least senseless Scot I've ever seen." Kusmo made a big blow to Wallace, and the gray lieutenant platoon leader slowly drifted away with the sea breeze.

"All stood up. Let's go to the farm over there to take a break. After arriving there, the first shift is responsible for vigilance. The second shift and the third shift prepare dinner. If we still can't contact the headquarters. Tonight we may have to spend the night there." In front of the roadside warriors, a loud command was given to stop the march, and the soldiers cheered.

Finally, the aimless march was about to end, and I spent a long time in the field paths and bushes. However, the very exhausting exercise has maintained a high-intensity rapid march since the afternoon departure. The entire platoon has been exhausted, but the destination is still out of reach, which is very damaging to the morale of these fighters. If it weren't for the brave and courageous platoon leader to be very popular on weekdays, these guys would have started to make troubles and say strange things.

These soldiers wore black scottish flat caps with silver-plated caps, wearing a military-style short tan top on the upper body, a blue and green kilt skirt on the lower body, high-top wool socks and British short shoes . The infantry had a canvas ammunition bag on his chest, a marching rucksack on his back, a bayonet sheath, an infantry shovel, a water bottle and a gas mask bag on his waist belt. A long bayonet, one hundred and 0.303 inch bullets.

This infantry platoon is equipped with a Brunn light machine gun. Operated by the machine gunners in the platoon command squad, the platoon command squad also carried a two-inch caliber mortar, a total of twelve rounds, carried by the four infantry drawn by each squad. The rest of the squad members were all riflemen, and each squad leader also carried two grenades.

This is the standard British infantry platoon at this time, or because these Scottish infantry have received one year of military training and belong to the elite troops that are currently rare, and their superiors will allow them to have such "gorgeous" equipment.

At present, the rapidly expanding British Army has a serious shortage of weapons. Some ordinary companies are not necessarily able to allocate a mortar. Some soldiers of the new troops have only received one grenade. I really don’t know whether to kill the enemy or commit suicide.

After receiving the report of the Sandwich Barracks in the afternoon, Churchill ordered an elite infantry battalion to investigate in the area around Deere. He believed that only some German feinting troops went ashore to make trouble and confuse the audiovisual. So after the order was made, I never asked again, and I didn't care about it at all.

However, the Ministry of the Army had a headache for this. The roads leading to the coast from the north were still blocked by the refugee tide. Currently, the troops can only be mobilized from the surrounding areas in the south. Those local garrison troops are hard to defend by themselves, and there is nothing more elaborate, and the Dover Garrison has long been standing by. No one can mobilize a soldier without waiting for the authorization of the German army and the wartime cabinet and fortress headquarters.

In the end, the Army Executive Committee found a suitable unit, but the number was only one platoon. This Scottish infantry platoon was just transferred from the northwest to the south, and was taking a break near Elsham, preparing to transfer to the Dover fortress. Scottish Highland Camp. Not to mention the small number of people in this platoon, the origin is not small, he belongs to the Royal Highland Regiment, also known as the Black Guards. The Army Executive Committee handed over combat preparation and dispatch to the Kent County Command Post, allowing them to formulate marching routes for this unit and be responsible for its logistics.

The first battalion of the Royal Highland Regiment was annihilated in Dunkirk, but a reserve local army was still retained in Scotland. Almost a company reserve team was responsible for local defense tasks. This platoon is in this reserve team. The newly formed company.

The old army was left on the ground, taking on the recruitment and training tasks of reorganizing the Royal Highland Regiment. This platoon was transferred to the regular army and transferred to Dover to strengthen the stronghold of the Scottish Highland Battalion.

Historically, Scottish soldiers were no longer allowed to wear their plaid skirts at the beginning of the year. It was not until four or two years that the Scottish soldiers were about to rebel, and the British Army lifted the ban again. And now, because Dunkirk has lost too cleanly, there is no British left for the roots. As a result, the local Scottish troops left in the country have become sweet and sour. The Army is extremely lacking in such well-trained troops. The only formed Scottish brigade became the mainstay of the scorching army, and was mobilized to near London that month to shoulder the heavy responsibility of defending London.

In order to envelop these unruly Celtic barbarians, the British Army lifted the ban on the short skirt, as long as the group of Scots were willing to go to the battlefield to sell their lives for the Anglos, whatever they wanted to wear, even if the group of guys wanted to To learn the ancient Greek celestial warfare, there are only hands raised in favor of this, and the article also touted and praised each other's ancient style.

Wallace's platoons are all pure Scottish barbarians. All the rows are from the same village. The villages and villages are less than two miles away. Many people are classmates in elementary and middle schools, and they are very familiar with each other. The bond of this interpersonal relationship is very strong, and the whole row is like a big family.

The platoon leader as a parent is more like everyone's eldest brother. This brawny man who is nearly two meters tall is actually only 24 years old. He was known for his bravery and courage in the local area in the early years. The senior with his surname practiced his two-handed sword every day at home.

"The command given to us above is strange, let us arrive at Sutford Farm, and then stand by, but I have looked through the map and can't find them saying this place." Kusmo sat at the table in the farm's living room , Holding a magnifying glass and carefully looking at the map.

"They said on the radio that they were heading southeast, crossing the Dover Highway, at the fork of the old ladder road. There is this road on the map, but God knows that all the small roads in this direction are in this direction, but there is no Street sign." Wallace said indignantly with a cup of hot soup.

"These Englishmen are obviously bullying. When we Scots are bullying, let me meet the idiot who gave us orders. I want him to know what will happen to the fool of the black guards."

"Before teaching that guy again, you have to review yourself. Why didn't you think of finding a guide in the local area? Now that we are trapped in this abandoned farm where there is no village and no shop, I don't know the combat diary and the post-mortem report How to write." Kusmo put down the magnifying glass, he turned the **** of the kerosene lamp on the table to brighten the brightness of the wick.

"Whatever you write, I won't interfere with you." Wallace murmured two large mouthfuls of hot soup and put down the soup cup. He turned on the back of the chair and shouted to the corner of the living room. "Whether you have contacted the Kent Command or not, what's wrong with your radio station, won't it make you stupid and mess up."

"Don’t talk to me like this, Kevin, the radio works very well, but just can’t receive the signal from the Kent command post. The communication frequency they give us is now a bunch of contact codes, passwords and Ours is different. Maybe it’s the Royal Navy or Air Force. Now the communication band is too confusing. It’s just like the London Stock Exchange. Everyone is sending messages every minute. Hey? This guy’s hand speed is so fast ."

The communications officer squatted in front of the radio, frowning and tuning the frequency **** on the panel. He tried more than a dozen frequency bands and found that the nearby radio communication channel was very busy. Some frequencies even had four different radio call signs at the same time. According to the report, this kind of thing is really abnormal, and it has never been encountered in the communications officer's memory. There was some vague speculation in the subcommittee's subconsciousness, and maybe some big things are happening now.

"Don't say it's like you've been to London, do you know what a stock exchange looks like?" Wallace pryed open a can of fish with a knife, and then tapped the can on the table. After attracting the other's attention, He threw the can at the head of the communications officer.

"I took part in a summer camp organized by London during the summer vacation of the university, your dirt bun." The communications officer grabbed the can, and as a result, the oil leaking from the crack of the lid was stained with one hand.

"God, Kevin, you are a complete bastard." The communications officer hurriedly took off the headphones and took out his handkerchief to wipe the oil dripping from the plaid skirt.

"Look, it's a purely technical issue." Wallace happily pried open another canned fish. He inserted a piece of salted fish with a knife and chewed it in his mouth. (To be continued.)