The night was deep, and everything seemed weary, yet on both sides of a railway line in northern France, German soldiers, armed to the teeth, were alert and vigilant. The ceasefire agreement signed in the Compiegne Forest the day before had swept away all the humiliations and oppressions suffered by this nation known for its tenacity and resilience over the past 22 years. Under the iron heel of Germany, the entire European continent trembled!
Adolf Hitler, in just seven short years, had transformed a country on the brink of economic collapse and military hesitancy into an unrivaled empire. His achievements in economics, industry, and military prowess were unprecedented and unmatched.
With sweeping victories across Western Europe, the dictator effortlessly ascended to the pinnacle of power and prestige.
As a train roared by, its windows draped with thick curtains in every carriage, it appeared almost like a ghost train from the outside. But inside, the compartments were bustling with activity.
In a lavishly furnished carriage, a middle-aged man with a finely groomed mustache and side-parted hair was regaling his senior officers with amusing anecdotes about teasing their female secretaries that morning. The content may have been dull, but the generals still chuckled along.
At the door connecting this carriage to the next, a German general with a Mediterranean haircut (bald on top with hair at the temples and back) received a document from a Wehrmacht major. He quickly scanned its contents, seeming somewhat reluctant. After a moment's hesitation, he briskly walked over to the unique protagonist of this carriage.
"My Führer, there's a report you might find interesting!" he said after turning his head to glance at his Chief of Operations, seemingly displeased with the interruption of his comedic storytelling. Nonetheless, he reluctantly took the document, "Provisional Paratrooper Division... Model Paratrooper Battalion... Hmm? Review?"
"Yes, my Führer, but... they've only been formed for a little over ten days. What could they possibly achieve in such a short time?" the general named "Mediterranean" said.
"Extraordinary tactical maneuvers?" the mustached man repeated from the paper.
"Perhaps... young Captain Logan overestimated his own talents!" Mediterranean commented.
The seasoned officer sitting opposite him sneered disdainfully, "Just over ten days? These soldiers drawn from various units probably can't even march in formation yet!"
With Mediterranean leading the way, the generals on the sofa all laughed.
Mediterranean awkwardly chuckled, realizing that perhaps presenting this report to his superiors was merely for their amusement.
"Oh, by the way, Alfred, how did General Stude's surgery go?" the mustached man suddenly asked.
"Uh... my Führer, I heard two days ago that he underwent a third surgery. After the surgery, he experienced symptoms of facial paralysis, aphasia, and limb stiffness. It's said that with proper rest, partial recovery is possible!" Mediterranean replied.
"Oh, poor Kurt!" the mustached man sympathetically shrugged before asking, "Are we passing near the temporary residence of the provisional paratroopers?"
Regarding this question, Mediterranean seemed well-prepared: "Yes, my Führer! According to the itinerary, we will arrive in Metz tomorrow to inspect the French Maginot Line. The day after tomorrow, we will make a brief stop in Sarrebruck, which is only half an hour from their residence!"
"In that case, let's see what kind of performance this young man has prepared for us," the mustached man asked the generals around him for their opinion.
With France surrendering, Britain appearing to be merely saving face, and Goering openly declaring that his air force would force the British to raise the white flag within a few months, it seemed there was nothing to worry about for the senior officers.
Seeing no objections, the mustached man turned to Mediterranean, "That's settled then, Alfred. You'll handle the specifics!"
"Yes, my Führer!" Mediterranean left relieved. However, as he reached the adjacent carriage, he vented his frustration at the lieutenant he encountered earlier, seemingly scolding him for almost causing trouble.
In a twist of fate, half an hour later, Hans Logan, who was sound asleep, was rudely awakened by his adjutant.
"Captain! Captain! Lieutenant Skaub is here, says he has something very important to tell you!"
"Uh... Is it about his little brother? Tell him not to worry, I remember!" Logan said groggily.
"No, Captain, it's about the Führer's impending inspection!" The adjutant, afraid of leaking information, spoke in a hushed tone but also worried that the sleepy Logan might not understand clearly.
"What? Are you kidding me? Didn't we send a telegram out just this evening?" Logan scratched his head and went to the door to see Lieutenant Skaub standing neatly under the moonlight.
"Hey, Lieutenant, where did you get this news from?" Logan yawned.
Skaub looked anxious, "News? No, Captain Logan, the High Command just sent a secret message, asking us to ensure that the inspection ceremony can start at any time!"
Logan remained unperturbed. "That doesn't tell us when he's coming, does it?"
"Hey! Captain Logan, whether you know it or not! Can you receive a telegram to inform the Führer's visit? Will it be arranged two days in advance? The order from the High Command is to ensure that the inspection ceremony can start at any time, which means the Führer will be arriving soon!" Skaub said earnestly.
"Was this from General Puhl?" Logan remained unflustered.
"Yes, General Puhl instructed part of it, and some are based on my personal experience!" Skaub said with some self-congratulation.
Logan didn't like the taste of this guy's words, but he still patted him on the arm, "Hehe, I said so! You're with the general, your thinking must be broader than us crude commanders!"
"We've been working together for so long, and you're still saying that! Also... General specifically instructed, you need to prepare quickly. There can be no negligence in the inspection ceremony! As expected, before the inspection begins, the Führer's guard will arrive and deploy, and remember, everyone participating in the inspection must not carry live ammunition. Remember, remember!" After saying these words, Skaub waved his hand eagerly, "Alright, I'll go back to headquarters now. The General hasn't slept yet!"
"Dedicated!" Logan praised him as Skaub left. Once Skaub was gone, he turned back to his room and collapsed onto the bed.
"Captain, don't we need to prepare in advance?" Upon hearing the news of the Führer's imminent visit, the adjutant seemed very excited—this guy always carried around a copy of "My Struggle"!
"Yeah, don't worry! Bread will be there! Milk will be there!" Logan said sleepily, soon drifting off to sleep again, leaving the adjutant with a look of anticipation still on his face.