Transmigrated as the Crown Prince

When the morning bell rang for the fourth time, a piercing siren sounded in a secret German airport 50 kilometers away from the border.

Accompanied by the sound of sirens, the originally silent airport suddenly became boiling. The ground crew and pilots here usually sleep in their clothes. When the siren sounds, they get up and pack their bedding, wash them as quickly as possible and then run to the canteen.

The cooks got up earlier than them, and hot food was already ready in the canteen.

Some people say that the best chefs in heaven are French and the best chefs in hell are Germans. Although this statement is too exaggerated, it somewhat reflects the fact that Germans do not know how to eat.

Yannick, who has studied in Germany, has a deep understanding of this. In his opinion, any meal cooked by a Chinese in Germany can be as fragrant as a German.

Germans don't know how to eat, which is first reflected in their "bookism" in cooking. If the recipe says to add 200 grams of flour, they will never add 210 grams. Therefore, German kitchens are equipped with large and small measuring cups and scales, plus an alarm clock. You wanted to enter their kitchen, but you thought you had accidentally entered the laboratory. Let's boil an egg. Germans also need a good alarm clock. If the time is too long, they are afraid of losing the nutrients. If the time is short, they are afraid of being undercooked. The eggs should be cooked to a soft and yellow color but not watery. They should be cooked just right. Or simply automate egg boiling and buy an egg boiler, which will cut off the power on time.

They are also very particular about eating eggs. Instead of peeling the eggs and eating them, they put the eggs in an egg cup like a small wine cup. They first "cut" the eggs in half with a knife, and then scoop them out with a small spoon.

The funniest thing was once he made dumplings, and all the German classmates downstairs came to him to "learn from them." Before he could "preach the scriptures", he ran back and got a pen and notebook.

Yannick told him what to put in the stuffing and how to mix the noodles, but this did not help the Germans who cooked according to the "book" at all. In China, if you teach someone to cook and say to add a little salt or more soy sauce, unless they are born to be a cooking idiot, they won't be any worse. But the German classmate insisted on asking him how many grams of noodles, meat fillings, MSG, salt, oil and vegetables were added, and how many liters of water were added. The question made Yannick's head spin.

He didn't know how many grams a pinch of salt was, or how many milliliters a spoonful of soy sauce was. He asked the German classmate why he wanted to be so precise. It wasn't a precise experiment. You could just go with your feelings. But that person shook his head seriously, saying that there was no way he could do that.

Fortunately, in this time and space, due to the Ming Dynasty, Chinese restaurants can be found everywhere in Germany, and many German chefs have to learn how to cook Chinese food, otherwise they will not be able to attract customers. Under Yannick's care, there are now almost no people in the German army's cooking class who can't cook Chinese food, which can be regarded as a complete improvement of the original poor diet of the German army.

Wolfe picked out two fist-sized meat buns, took a cup of millet porridge, found an empty seat, sat down and ate a big meal.

"Hey, Wolf, do you think those Poles will hand over the murderer?" Wolf's good friend Schmidt sat down opposite him and asked vaguely while chewing on the chicken drumstick in his hand.

Wolfe drank half a cup of millet porridge in one gulp and picked up another meat bun. "It's better not to hand over, then we can teach those damn bastards a lesson!" He said as if he was holding a Pole in his hand, and bit down hard.

"Those families should pay with their blood!" Schmidt nodded with deep sympathy. "I don't know when I will become an ace. Do you think someone can enter the Imperial War Museum? Then you have to shoot down 100 aircraft. The last time the Red Baron only shot down 84 aircraft." Just like the points system for snipers, in the fighter unit Pilots who have shot down more than 100 enemy planes can have their proportional wax figures erected in the Imperial War Museum, where their heroic deeds will be introduced in detail for future generations to admire.

"What's impossible? Do you think any of Poland's aircraft models can match our fighter planes? If they really fight, wouldn't they be beaten by us?"

Schmidt couldn't help but sigh. "The model of their aircraft is terrible, but the number is also small. How many aircraft can there be in the whole country? Look at us. This base only has 100 fighter jets. If we add those from other bases, how many will we have on average?"

Wolfe said disapprovingly. "It all depends on your luck. If you are unlucky, you may not even be able to touch an enemy."

After eating, everyone gathered in the conference room to listen to the combat mission. "This time we will take off at 4:40 and fly to a place ten kilometers away from the border to wait for the final order. If it is Plan A, then it will be a cruise mission. If it is Plan B, we will fly on 5 At exactly the right time, fly over the border and attack Poland. Your first task is to ensure air superiority and shoot down all Polish planes that dare to take off. If there are no enemy planes, you can also use rockets to attack the ground, but don't drop the altitude too low. , after all, your fighter jets don’t want those flying tanks of the Army Aviation, so they have to be careful of ground anti-aircraft artillery.”

Not far from the Air Force conference room, the same order was issued in the Army Aviation conference room. "Your first task is to destroy the enemy's airports and try to paralyze enemy aircraft on the ground. After ensuring that all airports are abolished, the next targets are Polish troops, arsenals, railways, roads and bridges..."

Just as the various aviation units were distributing orders, more than 20 kilometers away from the border, Guderian was looking at the map in the temporary headquarters of the 3rd Armored Division. Standing next to him was the depressed-looking commander of the 3rd Armored Division, Leogaier von Schwepenburg.

The reason why he was depressed was because his immediate boss Guderian, who was supposed to stay in the rear and command the overall situation, actually ran to his temporary headquarters and expressed that he wanted to act with the 3rd Armored Division. As a result, he could only hand over the command of the division commander to Guderian obediently, and he became an idler.

Just as he was racking his brains to think of how to persuade Guderian to return to the military headquarters, Guderian was thinking about the "blitzkrieg" and "large-depth combat theory" that His Royal Highness the Crown Prince had taught him over the years.

Fortunately, Yannick traveled through time early, and the "blitzkrieg" theory in Guderian's mind was still in its infancy. Yannick first tried his best to instill in him the "large-depth combat theory", and then told him this "large-depth combat theory" after he fully understood it. "The theory of large-depth operations" cannot be applied on European soil. Let me teach you the "blitzkrieg" that will make you invincible throughout Europe in the future.

Now is the time to practice theory. The 3rd Armored Division is the sharp knife of the entire army group. The success or failure of the battle depends on the performance of the 3rd Armored Division. They may be able to sit back, but of course they must come and take charge in person.

He looked at his watch. It was four forty. "Order the entire army to march towards the border."

Commander Schweppenberg couldn't help but be stunned. "But the high command hasn't issued the final order yet?"

Guderian smiled. "Don't worry, there should be orders by the time we get to the border."

Division Commander Schwepenburg could only obey the order and issued an order for the entire division to move out.