Battle of the Third Reich

The sound of the train whistle echoed through the air, passing from the top to the top of the head. After a few seconds, the earth began to tremble, and a deep, roaring trembling roared. The air was permeated with a pungent smell of smoky smoke. A heavy rain last night filled the crater with sewage. The pale and swollen corpses and stumps floated on the water surface, exuding a nasty smell.

Sergeant Jack Freed Dougan was carrying a Mauser g98a carbine with an m1918 grenade on his belt, leading the three remaining infantry in the class and retreating northward along the muddy road.

The regiment’s counterattack had been defeated, the Marne River was the end of everything, the battalion was completely destroyed by the enemy’s artillery bombardment, the frontline companies lost their unified command, and after a nightmarish night, hunger and cold The remnants of the forced German army raised the white flag and surrendered to the French army. Only a handful of people broke through the gap between the French troops through dawn.

"Squad leader, take a break." First class Hansbert advised Dougan. They have been marching for four hours in a row and their physical exertion is close to the limit.

"Resting in place, Green Doug is on duty." Dougan looked at his watch and agreed to the request of the superior soldier.

"It's all a fight. The senior officers are all idiots." Burt sat on a stone, squeezed his soaked cigarette case into a ball, and threw his hands into the mud on the side of the road.

Dougan turned his head to look at the old man, then silently took out his tin can from the pocket of the uniform hem, and then handed it to Hansbert.

"Thank you squad leader." Burt took the cigarette case a little embarrassedly.

"Do you want another one too? Klein." Burt opened the cigarette case and passed it to the comrade on the other side. Second-class soldier Rowan Klein glanced at him, reaching for a cigarette from the cigarette case.

"What about you Greyhound." Burt asked Harry Green Doug, a soldier standing on the side who was sentry.

"Okay, let's get one." The high-ranking soldier with the nickname "Grey Dog" wiped his hands on the front of the uniform, and then picked up a cigarette from the cigarette case.

"Squad leader, walk two kilometers further north to see the river bank." Burt took a cigarette, and then returned the cigarette case to the squad leader Dougan.

"At this time, we must be particularly vigilant, as we may encounter the French reconnaissance force." Dougan took a cigarette out of the box and then put the mottled tin cigarette case carefully back into the uniform pocket.

"Relax, the greyhound has eyes." Burt pulled an kerosene lighter from Austria in his pocket and lit the cigarette in his mouth.

"Watch the plane!" Greyhound warned loudly. Dogen quickly looked up and saw a few small shadows faintly appearing in the gaps filled with smoke.

"It's a fighter, and they won't waste bullets on our soldiers' heads." Dougan lowered his carbine.

"Squad leader, what should we do when we go back? I'm afraid there are only three of us left." Burt asked.

"The three companies cannot be rebuilt. We should add us to the reserve force as usual." Dougan spit out a smoke ring.

"Squad leader, will it demobilize us?" Burt looked at the squad leader with expectant eyes.

"The French are still advancing, and we can't stop their offensive at all. Do you think this time will let us leave the army?" Dogen replied shaking his head.

"Or you know more, squad leader, I'm just a farmer, and I don't know what the situation is, or strategy." Burt nodded with admiration.

"There are troops coming, it's our people." Greyhound shouted again, and then jumped on the road, waving his hand vigorously towards the distance.

"Is it our backup force? If so, then they were late for a full day." Burt stood up holding a cigarette.

"It should be a division reserve team. Are you still going to counterattack? Are the staff of the staff crazy?" Dougan walked up the road with his rifle on his back and carefully put on his helmet.

"Salute!" Seeing the troops approaching, Dougan ordered loudly. Four German soldiers stood upright and saluted a major officer who was at the front of the line.

"Company, move on!" the major commanded loudly, then left the queue and walked towards Dougan.

"Which unit are you from? Did you fall behind?" The major approached Dougan, first glanced at the four-level red eagle medal and the non-commissioned military medal of honor on the chest of Dougan, and then raised his hand back. Military salute, those who can get these two medals will not be deserters.

"Sergeant Jack Fried Dougan of the 2nd Battalion, 3rd Company, 2nd Battalion of the 57th Infantry Regiment salutes you, sir." Dougan reported loudly.

"Fifty-seven regiment?" The major froze for a moment.

"Yes, sir." Dogen answered with his head raised.

"The intelligence said that the 57th Regiment was annihilated yesterday." The major frowned.

"Actually, we stayed up all night, sir, and didn't break out until the morning." Dogen replied.

"Understood." The major turned around and looked at the marching troops, then turned back and said to Dougan: "I'm Major Marvin Graf von Kuhnberg, commander of the third battalion of the 702nd Infantry Regiment, now Several of you are under my command."

"But, Lord Earl." Dougan saluted a military salute to the other party: "We should report to the division headquarters according to the rules."

"Call me Major, Sergeant. It is an emergency. The Division Command has retreated to the North Shore early this morning. Now I am the highest-ranking officer on the front line." Major Kuhnberg waved at Dougan: "Keep up with the team , Soldier, I still have some questions for you.".

=

"Are you sure that person is Earl Kuhnberg, the former German Army Major?" Weiler frowned at Dougan.

"I thought he had forgotten him long ago, but when I saw that face, all the memories appeared to me again, and I could swear to God that the man was Major Marvin von Kuhnberg, seven. Commander of the 3rd Battalion of the Zero 2nd Regiment." Dogen nodded affirmatively.

"He just looks older, and there is not much change in appearance." Dougan said: "He may not notice me, or he may notice but not recognize me, but he can understand who I would think that the army infantry sergeant was now a SS colonel.".

"Hitler was just a corporal, Dougan." Weyler squeezed his eyes at Dougan: "Now do you think this count wants to be against the head of state? Is there any basis?".

"He was already killed. After the war, I found his name on the list of killed. In a legal sense, Kuhnberg is already a dead person, general." Dougan said.

"I see. Now that a dead man suddenly appeared at a press conference banquet in the Prime Minister's Palace, this is indeed very doubtful." Weierle pinched his cigarette butts in the ashtray in the corner of the corridor.

"The head of state asked me to come to you and deal with this hidden danger as much as possible without disturbing the reporter." Dogen said hesitantly: "I personally hope to be able to catch alive, in any case, he used to be a hero ."

"Hero? I have seen many heroes. He is the first to resurrect himself." Weierle took off his military cap and plucked his hair.

"In this way, you go to Disenhofen, we can set up a small trap." Weierle instructed in Dougan's ear.

"This is authentic Norwegian cod. In a restaurant in London, it costs me at least two pounds like this plate." Wickwood cut the fish and showed off to his new friends.

"Yeah, I don't like fish very much." Mr. G should call him Earl Kuhnberg, with an elegant smile on his face.

"You're British, how can the British not like fish." Wickwood swallowed the fish in his mouth and picked up the white wine on the table.

"You are American, how come you like fish so much?"

"Actually, as long as it's delicious, I like it, and my ancestor is a Scot." Wickwood pointed to the red hair on his head.

"Well, it can be seen, Mr. Wakewood." Kuhnberg nodded with a smile.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Henry?" At this time, a man in a civil servant's dress walked to the table, and he asked politely.

"Yes, I am Henry."

"Mr. Morris Henry of the "Daily Mail"." The man added.

"Yes, what's the matter?" Kuhnberg took the napkin and wiped his mouth.

"I'm sorry, I'm Stefan Hill of the Press Secretariat. I will hold a meeting between the head of state and reporters later. Your name is on the list, but we didn't find the question form filled out by the Daily Mail." Hill Answered.

"Symposium? Ah yes, of course, didn't you find that form?" Kuhn Bog froze for a moment, then put on a surprised expression.

"Yes, Mr. Henry, this kind of thing rarely happens. We need these forms as archives, so if you are convenient now." Hill looked around. "If you are convenient, can you fill in a copy immediately?" Form, otherwise we will only regret to cancel your questioning opportunity."

"Understood, just fill in here?" Kuhnberg frowned.

"No, you need to go to the press office first," Hill replied.

"No problem, then go, Mr. Hill." Kuhnberg put the napkin on the table and stood up.

"I'm sorry, I'll be back when I go." Kuhnberg patted Wickwood's arm.

"It's okay, I'll keep the wine for you, Mr. Henry." Wickwood nodded in understanding.

"Please go here." Hill took Kuhnberg to the side door of the restaurant.

In front of the door stood a soldier with a rifle and a guard flag. He looked at them carefully from top to bottom, then turned sideways to let out the door.

"Please follow me, Mr. Henry." Hill said to Kuhnberg with a smile, opened the door and walked out of the restaurant.

Kuhnberg stood in front of the SS soldier. He first looked at the second-level iron cross medallion on the button hole of the uniform, and then looked at the black war-wound medallion that was stuck under the chest pocket. Immediately he nodded at the soldier, turned and strode out of the door.

"Here, Mr. Henry." Hill waited at the corner of the corridor.

"This is a magnificent building, Mr. Hill." Kuhnberg said with a smile.

"I quite agree with this, Earl Kuhnberg." At this moment a voice sounded behind Kuhnberg.

Kuhnberg stood still, he raised his head and took a deep breath, then turned around calmly, still maintaining his elegant manners.

"I haven't seen you in a long time, Major Kuhnberg." Dougan respectfully paid an army salute to the other party, and behind him stood a row of soldiers of the Guard Banner with live ammunition.

ps: I'm sick, I'm late for the update, sorry

There is only this chapter today, and the owed chapter will be made up tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.

If you can understand me, you will be satisfied, and you won’t be asking for a monthly ticket today. (.)