On Fame, the British Army pales in comparison to the illustrious history and tradition of the Royal Navy, and it doesn't even bear the "Royal" title like the Air Force does (partly because in the mid-17th century, the British Army, then known as the New Model Army, defeated the king's royalist forces, leading to the execution of King Charles I, and another significant reason being that according to the English Bill of Rights signed in 1689, the army is subordinate to the British Parliament rather than the British monarchy).
In terms of strength, the British Army has consistently pursued a strategy of being "small but elite," leaving the task of expanding territories and showcasing military prowess to the formidable navy. However, in France, the combat quality and battlefield performance of the two hundred thousand-strong British expeditionary force often surpassed that of their French allies, who outnumbered them tenfold. Therefore, when the French succumbed to the iron grip of the Germans, the withdrawal of the 150,000-strong British expeditionary force from Dunkirk was seen as the most significant force to counter German invasion—although they were disheveled, with most of their weapons lost on the other side of the Channel, they were still well-trained and battle-tested soldiers, something that many peasants couldn't match!
Standing on British soil, wearing the full uniform of British constables, Logan checked his watch as the group of British soldiers assembled. Three minutes and twenty-two seconds later, the last soldier fell into formation. Despite the bleary-eyed faces and somewhat disheveled uniforms, their efficiency was commendable. Logan's exemplary airborne battalion also required at least three minutes for such a sudden assembly!
Major Pearson, who had been frowning throughout the process, turned to Logan with a somewhat cold tone, or rather, he seemed quite displeased: if there was indeed a German spy in his unit, especially one who had been lurking for a long time, as a commander, he would undoubtedly bear an inescapable responsibility!
"Captain Rold, you can have your intelligence officer come forward for identification!"
"Major, is everyone from your unit here?" Logan roughly counted, with these British officers and soldiers arranged in three rows horizontally, about 15 people per row, including the major, his adjutant, and the sentry at the door, there were roughly 50 people, which wasn't far off from what he expected.
"Except those who can't leave their posts, everyone is here!" The major said sternly, "If that spy isn't among these people, I'll have someone replace their positions and have them come out for your identification! Alright?"
Logan couldn't bring everyone here to face death together, so he felt somewhat regretful. Seemingly casual, he asked, "Hmm, no problem. But how many are inside?"
"Four!" The major replied without hesitation.
"Alright, let's have a look at these first!"
With that, Logan waved to the paratroopers still standing more than a dozen steps away, and according to the plan, they maintained formation and came to Logan's side.
"Mamott!" Logan gestured to the leading "constable corporal" with his eyes, and the young man, understanding, calmly walked past the wooden stakes that served as a barrier, seemingly carefully examining each face. This arrangement was actually buying time for the paratroopers ambushing in the front: when everyone's attention was focused on this guy, German paratroopers carrying machine guns and rifles would advance closer under the cover of night—the closer they got, the more accurate their shots would be.
As the "constable corporal" completed his circle, all the British officers and soldiers, including the major, were still focused on him. At this moment, Logan gave a nod to the paratroopers behind him, and everyone silently unloaded their rifles from their shoulders.
"Major, if we identify this spy, would you prefer us to expose him on the spot or... arrest him secretly?" Logan deliberately led the major aside as he spoke, to give the best shooting position to the paratroopers behind him.
The major pondered, walking several steps to the side with Logan, "Let's arrest him secretly! If possible, try to keep this matter from being known to outsiders, after all, it affects the reputation of the military!"
"You're a commander who considers the bigger picture! But it's a pity..." Logan caught sight of the "constable corporal" returning and, with his most skilled posture, drew his Webley revolver from its holster before the major could fully react and said, "Here goes nothing!"
At point-blank range, when an 11.18mm bullet pierced the body, it spurted out a large amount of blood. It was the first time Logan tasted that metallic taste, he wasn't bloodthirsty, but the exhilaration of wanton destruction almost addicted him.
The gunshot was the signal to attack, and the paratroopers ambushing outside immediately opened fire on the lined-up British officers and soldiers with Browning light machine guns and rifles. The paratroopers behind Logan also fired their rifles at close range—among the first to fall was the kind-hearted Corporal Cliff, perhaps he never fully understood what was happening until he died!
After shooting the major, Logan didn't stop. With two shots, he directly knocked down the sentry at the gate and the major's adjutant. Although the Browning light machine gun's rate of fire and sustained firing capability were not as powerful as the German MG-34, Logan had set up three of them in front, and when they fired simultaneously, they could still produce a dense enough barrage of bullets. Many unarmed and lined-up British officers and soldiers fell, leaving only a few scrambling in panic, but even under the illumination of lights, they couldn't escape the "naming" by the German riflemen.
By the time the Browning's 30-round magazine was emptied, the deafening gunfire had significantly diminished, but there were hardly any standing figures left on the empty ground behind the trenches. Logan swaggered forward, firing two shots at a figure still fleeing towards the castle. The first shot missed, kicking up some dirt beside him, but the second shot hit the poor guy's buttocks, causing him to fall to the ground.
Logan's third shot missed again, this time at a greater distance, exposing his rookie nature once more. He quickly replaced the cylinder of his revolver, but by the time he had reloaded six bullets into it, the paratroopers had eliminated the final threat, leaving only some wounded struggling on the ground. As the defending side was utterly unprepared, the attackers still maintained a perfect record of zero casualties!
At this moment, gunshots also came from the north and south, among which the roar of the Browning light machine gun was particularly distinctive. Seeing that the battle on the front of the castle had ended, Logan immediately sent four paratroopers to support the north and two to support the south, leaving four people to clean up the battlefield, while he personally led seven riflemen into the castle!