Transmigrated as the Crown Prince

Seeing that the German fleet in the waters off Oahu only had two battleships, two aircraft carriers and a number of battle cruisers, cruisers, and destroyers left in the telegram, the first thought that flashed in Nimitz's mind was that the Germans had dug them. It’s a pit, waiting for them to jump in! Maybe these departing warships hid hundreds of kilometers away and waited until their own fleet approached before encircling and annihilating them.

"..." Nimitz threw the message aside and continued to study the Pacific defense line. After all, this is no small project, and no one knows whether or when the Germans will launch a landing operation on the United States. They must seize the time.

Although the war between the Soviet Union and Germany is in full swing, anyone with a discerning eye can see that the German army has not invested all its troops on the Soviet-German battlefield. They still have great war potential; plus the military strength of other European countries, they have enough to defeat the United States. The power of home invasion. Although Nimitz did not think that the Germans would be crazy enough to choose to fight on two fronts, what if the German Crown Prince was so crazy? !

Therefore, Nimitz wanted to design a Pacific defense line as soon as possible.

But listening to the endless quarrels among his staff, Nimitz couldn't help but sigh. Until the outbreak of this war, everyone believed that the geographical environment of the United States was superior to other countries. The total length of the continental coastline of the United States was 22,680 kilometers. The coastline on the Atlantic coast is more tortuous, with many excellent bays and ports; the coastlines on the Pacific coast and the Gulf of Mexico are relatively straight. But now such a long coastline has become a disadvantage, even a burden! He has never wished the United States' coastline was shorter than at this moment! Shorter! !

Smolensk.

The German army was still advancing in an orderly manner. Because of the addition of ground-penetrating radar, they could easily discover the Soviet underground fortifications. Every time they found a place, the accompanying earth drill would drill holes, then stuff a bunch of bombs into the ground and detonate them. This series of operations made the Soviet troops hiding underground very uncomfortable. Just like the ground, the underground space was constantly being squeezed.

The haggard Marshal Shaposhnikov sat at his desk. He had not been exposed to the sun for a long time, and with the deterioration of the war situation, he looked haggard and inhuman.

Looking at the casualty report in his hand, Marshal Shaposhnikov sighed deeply. Today, more than 4,000 people were killed and more than 7,000 were injured. These 7,000 wounded people basically had a narrow escape from death. Because of the lack of medicines, even trivial wounds can kill people. As long as there is enough medicine, most of the wounded only need to recover for a few days before they can be active and active in the battle again. But now they can only watch as the non-fatal wounds become infected, worsen and spread, eventually claiming the lives of these wounded people.

There were no more corpses in the underground fortifications, so they could only move the corpses to the ground and let the Germans dispose of them. The Germans' treatment methods are also quite simple and crude, usually burning them on the spot with flamethrowers.

It's not yet the end of July, and more than half of the million-strong army has been lost. Our own morale is gradually collapsing. Not long ago, classes and even entire platoons have surrendered to the Germans. But this afternoon, three companies of soldiers laid down their weapons and surrendered to the Germans.

"It seems it's the end." Marshal Shaposhnikov sighed again, reached out and opened the drawer of his desk, took out a pistol and a box of bullets, and began to stuff bullets into the magazine. One bullet, two bullets, the hand that was about to hold the third bullet paused, smiled to himself, put down the bullet in his hand, and loaded the magazine into the pistol.

Pressing the bell on the side, the secretary walked in. Seeing the pistol and the opened bullet box on the table, the secretary's expression suddenly changed and he exclaimed. "Comrade Marshal, what are you..."

"Go and call everyone in, I have something to say." Marshal Shaposhnikov's voice was hoarse, as if he was cutting dead wood with a rusty saw, which made people feel sad in their hearts. "Also, order people to burn all the documents. They are no longer needed."

After a while, people came in one after another. Soon, the office, which was not very spacious, became a little crowded, and latecomers could only stand in the corridor outside the door. They all felt something strange in the atmosphere and waited quietly.

Marshal Shaposhnikov spoke slowly. "Comrades, I don't need to say more about the current situation. Everyone knows it. Smolensk will eventually be occupied by the Germans, and no one can change the outcome. Continuing to insist will only make the sacrifice of the soldiers in vain." He would grit his teeth and persevere even if the casualty ratio with the Germans reached 1:3 or 1:4, but the current most optimistic estimate is only 1:7 or even more. In other words, even if all one million of their own troops are exhausted, the casualties suffered by the German army are just an itch for them. "I am giving the last order now. Everyone lay down their weapons and surrender to the German army. You are all still young and should not die here."

"Comrade Marshal! We can continue to fight!" Several people just shouted these words, but were interrupted by Marshal Shaposhnikov waving his hand. "Obey the order! I will send a telegram to Moscow to explain that this is my final personal order. You just obey the order and choose to surrender. Your family will not be affected." As he said this, he took out the paper and pen he had prepared. I scribbled a few lines on it and handed it to the secretary. "Send this telegram and everything here will be over." As he said that, he got up and left the office and came to the broadcast room nearby.

After a while, Marshal Shaposhnikov's voice sounded from the loudspeakers throughout the underground bunker. "I am Yevgeny Ivanovich Shaposhnikov, and I am giving you the final order. Everyone, put down your weapons and stop all resistance. The Battle of Smolensk is over. You have You did your best! Your next task is to live well."

After saying these words, Marshal Shaposhnikov turned and walked towards his office. Everyone in the corridor silently saluted his back with a solemn military salute.

Back in the office, Marshal Shaposhnikov got himself a glass of vodka. After all, he is also a Russian who likes to drink. He drank the vodka in his hand, then picked up the pistol on the table and put it against his chin.

"boom!"

"Bang!" Hearing the gunfire from the office, an officer in the corridor pulled out the pistol from his waist, pointed it at his temple, and pulled the trigger without hesitation. Accompanied by the crisp sound of gunfire and blood spurting out, the officer's burly body fell straight to the ground, losing his life in the blink of an eye.

In just a short moment, more than a dozen gunshots rang out in the corridor.