Battle of the Third Reich

The Italian grenades have a special feature, that is, if the safety lock is not completely pulled out, it only needs to be inserted back to recover.

Both Mussolini and Badoglio knew this, so they immediately reinserted the safety lock and refastened the safety cover. As long as they don't throw it hard again, the grenades are in a very safe state.

Mussolini held the grenade and showed it to the people around him, like a beautiful souvenir. At this moment he tried his best to behave like a fearless tough guy, in order to offset the panic image before.

The Italian dictator raised his chin high and scanned the panicked people around with contempt. Photojournalists quickly gathered around and scrambled to take a picture of the scene in front of him. The captions of the photos have been thought out. The Italian Prime Minister despised death just like the heroes of ancient Rome.

"Only the most cowardly and indecent thing will choose this method of assassination." Mussolini shouted loudly.

"Italian people, as you can see now. They chose the wrong way. They don’t want to overthrow me in this way, and don’t want me to be afraid of it. Let the clueless clowns in the dark Shake in the corner, I will pull them out of the hole they hid and expose them to the sun, then use leather boots to crush them like crushing insects." Mussolini handed the grenade The guard standing next to the car then waved his arms vigorously.

"No one can defeat Mussolini! I am the leader of Italy! My people love me! Only the traitors and the conspirators want to kill me!" Mussolini shouted, the black surrounding The shirt soldiers gave an agreeable echo.

"Long live Mussolini!" a black shirt yelled.

"Long live! Our leader! Long live! Mussolini!" An arm was suddenly raised around the Italian Prime Minister.

"Long live! Italy!" Mussolini raised his right arm in return, and he was extremely satisfied with his performance this time.

But in the next second, Mussolini's collar suddenly burst out of a blood flower, black shirt debris and bright red blood droplets splashed in the air, and then the Italian prime minister planted under the eyes. Into the compartment of the convertible.

The murderer was a big teenage boy. He was wearing a somewhat larger Montenegrin army shirt. He mixed with the Montenegrin army close to Mussolini and shot him at a distance of only two meters from the Prime Minister.

He used a single-handed single-handed pistol with a large slap. This delicate weapon was mostly made by a private person. It was once popular among Italian ladies and ladies. They can hide it in a small handbag. Here, they use their self-defense in case of accidents. However, in order to facilitate the operation of women, the caliber of this weapon is generally very small, and the amount of ammunition is only one or two shots, so most of the time it can only act as a deterrent.

The young man had one of them, with a caliber of only five millimeters, but because the shooting distance was too close, the bullet did not cut its kinetic energy at all, and accurately opened a hole in Mussolini's throat.

The boy opened his mouth at the time and seemed to want to slogan, but before he yelled the second letter, he was slammed to the ground by a group of soldiers of the Montenegrin Army, and a violent meal followed. Punch and kick.

Mussolini's limp body curled up in the back compartment of the car, his head resting on Badoglio's knee. The Field Marshal felt that a warm liquid had moistened his trousers and was still flowing down his calf towards the floor.

The Marshal of Italy’s highest empire was completely stunned. He looked blankly at Mussolini lying on his lap, feeling each other’s struggling and painful gasps. Badogrio didn’t know what happened. What happened, I don't know how to react.

An entourage wearing the uniform of the Italian Army Lieutenant jumped into the carriage. He grabbed Mussolini's shoulders, moved him away from the marshal's legs, and then lifted Mussolini's body back. Carefully inspect the Prime Minister's injury.

"The bullet penetrated Mussolini's trachea and esophagus and almost hit the back spine." Weierle reported to Xu Jun.

"It was our people who checked him for the injury, so we only knew the details of the injury. Mussolini failed to reach the hospital and swallowed his last breath on the road. In fact, he died of suffocation, that What the saying said, drowned in his own blood. Because there was no rescue equipment at the scene, the blood flowed into his trachea, blocking his breath, which only took thirty seconds. Patted the palm.

"I have seen many similar gunshot wounds on the battlefield. If you are lucky enough to meet an experienced military doctor, there is a 30% chance of surviving, but there are always very few lucky people, and most of them do not survive. "This kind of death is very tragic." Feng Boke said while holding his cheek.

"He shouldn't have died like this. I don't mean that he shouldn't die, but just as a national leader like him, he died of such a vicious assassination." Kettle squeezed the hair behind his head.

"Now what should we do, this is not a trivial matter, will his death affect our plan." Brauchic picked up half of the fennel pancake in the plate in front of him.

"It's not too much to worry about, we have been fully prepared for a long time." Weierle took off the monocle and put the report back in his pocket.

"Trust me, our soon-to-be-successor will soon come to the door to seek our support and protection." Weierle leaned on his knee with one hand and took the tea cup from the table.

"Who is your successor?" Ronstad asked curiously.

"Badoglio's Supreme Marshal." Weierle did not sell Guanzi, and said the name quite frankly.

"This coward?" Von Bock despised the behavior of betraying his companions with fear of death.

"Don't say this, Marshal Bock." Xu Jun laughed, and he put the cigar on the ashtray.

"We are talking about the future Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Italy, not to mention that his current rank is higher than any one in this room." Everyone present laughed when he heard this sentence.

"Actually, you can promote yourself to Marshal of the Empire, my head of state." Long Dested said with a smile.

"Do you think I'm fat?" Xu Jun bulged his cheek deliberately, and then aroused laughter.

The Marshals here all know that Gorlin once proposed to increase the rank of Imperial Marshal, purely to satisfy his personal vanity, but according to the merits Xu Jun established for the country, becoming an Imperial Marshal is well deserved.

"German marshal ranks have never appeared in German history, and I will not set this precedent for myself." Xu Jun said with a smile, and several marshals nodded approvingly.

"German troops stationed in Italy are ordered to enter first-level combat readiness, ready to occupy vital areas at all times. The border is strictly blocked, and no further Italian aircraft are allowed to take off until further orders are ordered, and all aircraft flying over Italy are ordered to be immediately at the nearest airport Landing." Xu Jun thought while holding the black tea, then issued a series of orders, several adjutants quickly took out the notebook and began to record on it.

"Are you ready for headroom?" Weiler asked.

"To prevent some people from fleeing this country in chaos, I hope this order will not be issued too late." Xu Jun said.

"Hannagen, hurry up and get the radio in, immediately contact the headquarters communications office and let them immediately issue an order to the Roman headquarters." Brauchic ordered his adjutant aloud.

"Observe, sir!" Colonel Hannagan bumped into his boots and turned and hurried out of the room.

"Telegraphed to Quixelle, Rome immediately entered martial law. The troops were ordered to closely monitor the Italian military barracks and gendarmerie, and no more than one platoon of troops was banned without the consent of the German command. After 8 pm in the city, citizens were prohibited from being on the streets Activities, dare to violate, and punish according to the severity of the circumstances." Xu Jun continued to order.

"A curfew, is this necessary? My head of state." Longstad asked.

"I think it's necessary, Marshal. It's a very special time, which can avoid a lot of trouble. I believe that the news of Mussolini's death has been circulated in Italian society. I don't know how many people are waiting for such an opportunity. I want to make these people understand that no one can cause unrest in Italy without my permission. Those who dare to provoke our authority, have no value in living, and the National Defense Force will be happy to take off this stupid head and use them. To safeguard the dignity of the German Empire." Xu Jun pulled a cigar out of the paper cigar box, and Dizenhofen lit the match sharply.

Xu Jun then issued several orders, all for the purpose of maintaining the stability of Italian society. Germany has got what it needs from Mussolini. Italy has been regarded by Xu Jun as an important asset of the empire. Allow some unassuming jerks to chaotic destruction.

When the meeting was over, it was too late outside and the things to be done were already done. Xu Jun did not want to rush back to Berlin.

The command headquarters transferred large communication vehicles and mobile on-board generators from nearby bases, and also arranged a battalion guard force around the farm. The military police set up a security line on the road outside the forest to check all driving documents passing by vehicles. Instead, they caught several unlucky eggs who slipped out of the barracks and wanted to relax in the nearby town.

The von Heinzberg Farm was almost transformed into a temporary command center, where the National Defense Force exerted amazing efficiency.

The grass outside the courtyard was filled with various military vehicles, the most prominent of which was the vehicle of the head of state. The chrome-plated alloy armor shone and shone under the surrounding lights.

A large tent was erected in the yard, and officers in uniforms stood in long lines in front of the field cooking vehicles.

From time to time, the signal soldier carried the document bag, jumped vigorously on two motorcycles, and then rushed out of the farmyard quickly in a roar of motors.

"Weirle." Xu Jun stood on the balcony of the second floor of the small building and looked at the lively scene in the courtyard.

"Yes, my head of state." The lieutenant general replied respectfully.

"How Mussolini died, I want to know the details." Xu Jun turned his face and looked at his chief of staff.

"It was indeed a gunshot wound, only" Weierle's mouth smiled strangely.

"Lieutenant, you're driving to take us out of here!" the lieutenant colonel, holding Mussolini's body, shouted loudly to a guard standing beside the car, at a loss.

"Observe, sir." The second lieutenant responded, and he quickly saluted a military salute to the lieutenant colonel in the back seat. Then he opened the door of the driver's side and dragged the dead driver out of the driver's seat.

"Turn right after taking the street." The lieutenant colonel ordered to arrive.

"Don't you go back to the Prime Minister's mansion? Sir!" The second lieutenant turned his head in surprise.

"You are crazy, the assassin will probably arrange an ambush on our way back." the lieutenant colonel shouted loudly. "The Prime Minister is seriously injured and needs an immediate operation. Do you know where is the nearest hospital nearby?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Then take us immediately!" the lieutenant colonel shouted loudly, covering Mussolini's throat.

The Fiat convertible rang continuously, and with the help of a group of black shirts and guards, it rushed out of the crowd and drove to the street beside the palace.

"How is his situation." Badogrio seemed to have just woke up in a panic, and he looked nervously at the lieutenant colonel.

"The bullet penetrated the esophagus and may have bruised the trachea. Fortunately, the aorta was not injured. If he can continue to stay awake and breathe spontaneously, and we can rush to the hospital in time, he has a great chance to live. Come down." The colonel pressed Mussolini's wound with his hand.

At this time the Italian leader was dying, his mouth was full of blood, still flowing down the corner of his mouth, but he could also breathe with the nasal cavity, the breathing frequency was a little quick, and his mind seemed to remain awake.

The Italian dictator seemed to want to say something at the moment, but only a small whimper sounded, the bullet hole in the throat was still bleeding heavily, and pink foam came out of the fingers that pressed the wound.

"Did you do it?" Badogrio asked in a whisper, using some stiff German.

"If I said that we did not do it, would you believe it? Your Excellency Marshal." The lieutenant colonel replied in German.

"I know you will get rid of him, but I didn't expect it to be so fast." Badogrio said.

"We didn't do it, Marshal, we wouldn't use such a brutal and direct method, there was no beauty at all." The lieutenant colonel let go of the hand that pressed the wound and put Mussolini's own hand up.

"Press and hold the wound hard, you can still hold for half an hour." Lieutenant Colonel said in Mussolini's ear.

"Then what's going on again." Badoglio felt underestimated, and he asked in an angry whisper.

"He has too many enemies, and I don't know where he is, but it's not bad now, but it saves us a lot of hands and feet." The lieutenant colonel turned and looked at Badoglio.

"What do you mean?" The marshal's expression became nervous again.

"That's what it means." The lieutenant colonel stretched out **** and pinched Mussolini's nose.

The dictator widened his eyes in horror. Blood loss and lack of oxygen made him unable to resist. Mussolini tried hard to breathe, but could not breathe in a little air.

So the thick blood in the mouth was sucked into the trachea, and Mussolini immediately began to twitch violently. At first he could swing his arms and struggled twice, but soon he lost consciousness because of suffocation, and was afraid of the Supreme Marshal Under the watchful eye, the Italian dictator finally kicked his right leg hard and immediately stopped breathing.

"Look, dear Marshal, as I said, there is no beauty at all." The lieutenant colonel let go of Mussolini's nose and wiped the **** stain on the sleeve of Badoglio. Fingers.

ps: Things are going very smoothly. I don’t have to ask for leave today. I am updating at normal times, asking for monthly tickets, asking for recommendations, asking for clicks and subscriptions.

thanks for your support. (To be continued.)