From a distance came a tremendous explosion, startling Logan from his half-dazed state almost to the point of falling off his chair. He opened his heavy eyelids, struggling to dispel the chaos in his mind, then shouted, "Rent, what's happening? Is the British Air Force bombing us again?"
"No, it's not. This time it's likely the British fleet's bombardment, coming from the west!" Stephenberg looked anxiously at the lightning-like flashes.
"The fleet? Damn!" Logan rubbed his face with both hands, forcing himself to wake up as quickly as possible. His description of this landing operation to Little Beard as "even a hundred British generals couldn't imagine" was indeed not an exaggeration. After all, White Island was too close to the British mainland, with the major ports of Portsmouth and Southampton right in front of it, separated only by the Solent Strait. The large-caliber howitzers deployed across the strait could even shell the northern ports of the island. It seemed as if the German heavy deployment on this island was like throwing a meat pie into a dog's den. As for the English Channel, it had been regarded as the backyard of the Royal Navy since the rise of the British Empire, with the powerful French during their heyday unable to challenge it, let alone the currently limited strength of the German Navy—even submarines would have to risk considerable danger to pass through, and as for capital ships, although there was the historical "Operation Sea Lion" to refer to, the "Scharnhorst" had been heavily damaged in the battle two months ago when it sank the British aircraft carrier "Glorious" and was still undergoing major repairs in the shipyard. With only the "Gneisenau" and a few armored cruisers and destroyers, even if they entered the channel, they would find it difficult to achieve anything!
Because of this, when formulating the Fortress Operation plan, Logan and his staff had already fully considered the possibility of the landing forces being continuously bombarded by the British fleet or long-range artillery from the opposite shore. Their countermeasures were firstly to have the main forces stationed close to the center of the island, relying on the towns for garrisoning, secondly to avoid dense marching columns as much as possible during troop movements, and thirdly to "dig deep and fortify," preserving their strength in the style of trench warfare from World War I. As long as the German Air Force could continuously use White Island as a forward airfield, coupled with the constant harassment of German submarines and torpedo boats in the nearby waters, it would inevitably cause unbearable losses to the British Navy— even if battleships dared to come, the formidable Stuka formations would surely make them regret their decision!
By the light in the room, Logan looked at his watch. There was at most an hour until dawn. By now, the fighters and bombers of the German Air Force stationed in northern France must have been prepared to take off at any moment!
Without much time for Logan to think, another explosion came from the west, closer than before, so much so that inexperienced people might even think that shells could fall on their heads at any moment.
A moment later, Stephenberg received a report that had just come in from the forward observation post: "Based on observations from the forward observation post, it should be gunfire from cruiser-class ships. The enemy fleet is still far offshore, so it's difficult to accurately assess the number and type!"
The greatest advantage of naval artillery is that it is not affected by weather and time. Before anti-ship missiles appeared, the position of giant naval guns was not completely replaced by aircraft carriers. Logan couldn't help but imagine that one day he would be able to influence the development of the German military, and how to make the most of the resources at hand to strengthen the German Navy to the fullest extent possible. If he could build an invincible fleet flying the flag of the German Navy with the Black Vulture Cross, just the thought of it was exhilarating!
Another explosion sounded, ruthlessly shattering Logan's fantasies. This time, the ground seemed to sense the shock already.
Logan quickly calculated in his mind: this place was less than 15 kilometers from the west coast of White Island, likely within the range of cruisers. If someone nearby was guiding the British fleet's bombardment by radio, wouldn't he be in danger?
Due to the hasty nature of the airborne and early landing operations, the German forces on White Island had not yet been equipped with radio monitoring equipment and technical personnel. If all went well, radar and communication jamming equipment could arrive the next day, but establishing effective monitoring was both a matter of time and technology...
To retreat or to hold on seemed like a simple question, but behind it lay complex logical relationships. Feeling conflicted, Logan lit a cigarette and smoked half of it, decisively choosing to ignore the presence of the British fleet!
Fate, the unquantifiable enigma, sometimes reveals patterns, sometimes defies logic. Just like the multiple assassination attempts against Adolf Hitler in history, none of which succeeded, especially the one planned by Colonel Stauffenberg—it's as if God had a hand in it.
For Logan, most of his encounters after time-travel were fortunate, but occasionally he encountered frustrating situations and people. This time, unfortunately, he found himself in the latter category. Just as he hadn't finished half of his cigarette, a row of remarkably powerful shells suddenly landed nearby without warning, causing the bricks and tiles on the church's roof to tremble! With retreat now inevitable, the German officers and soldiers in the church became chaotic, hastily carrying equipment and documents towards the trenches outside the village, while some others seemed utterly lost, like headless flies.
No matter how tough one's head may be, it can't withstand artillery shells, so Logan had to follow Stauffenberg's lead in retreating outside the town—where defensive positions had been dug in advance to resist British bombings, shelling, and assaults. Though not yet forming a complete circle, the long trenches encircled the village, enough to accommodate the troops stationed there and the besieged British civilians!
As the British artillery fire drew closer, Logan anxiously looked around: more soldiers were retreating, along with some British civilians from the village. Some were empty-handed, while others carried bundles. Amidst the chaos, Logan finally spotted Lorraine, who was hurrying four British women towards the trenches in a manner that was both amusing and exasperating.
Upon entering the trenches, "Aunt Susan" shouted at Logan, "Hey, Kraut! See that? The British Navy, the best in the world, can squash you Germans like cockroaches in an instant! Turn back to Germany and tell your leader to end the war soon, because you can't beat Britain! End the war early, and maybe we can consider your marriage to Lorraine..."
Before she could finish her sentence, a nearby explosion startled her, causing her to crouch down in the bottom of the trench with her hands over her ears. Behind her, Lorraine simply tied up her hair, looking at Logan with a mixture of fear and hope in her eyes.
While Logan also hoped for an early end to the war, it would have to wait until the Battle of Wight was decided—if Germany consolidated this bridgehead, Britain might compromise; if German landing forces were repelled, Britain and Germany were likely to return to the old path of history, until one side was completely defeated!
Stepping forward, Logan embraced Lorraine tightly, as if to assert "my woman, my responsibility," while loudly shouting in German, "Watch your heads, watch for artillery fire!"
Such a scene, including Stauffenberg, elicited complex looks from the surrounding German officers and soldiers: curiosity, envy, incomprehension, and understanding. God never said love under fire couldn't transcend national boundaries and camps!
The shells, like beasts with sharp teeth, approached step by step. In the intermittently bright world, amidst deafening explosions, it seemed as if everything had disappeared! Holding the charming lady in his arms, Logan couldn't hear her breathing or murmurs, only feeling her faint heartbeat against his chest. The delicate fragrance beneath her nostrils became fainter, overshadowed by the increasingly intense smell of gunpowder in the air...
The intense artillery fire finally reached the village, and with a loud bang, the prominent church was hit by a shell from several kilometers away. The cross on the roof disappeared in an instant, and the seemingly sturdy walls immediately crumbled, while the stained glass windows turned into countless shards, fluttering down like early winter frost!
If the church suffered such fate, the quaint farmhouses were even more vulnerable before such artillery fire, with two or three collapsing with each random shell. Watching their homes, where generations had lived, being destroyed by the very fleet they were proud of, the British civilians in the trenches were tearful, their eyes filled with irreconcilable anguish!
One shell after another turned the village, once filled with a rich English countryside charm, into ruins. People in the trenches were in constant danger, especially on the eastern side, where experienced soldiers were moving north in panic, fearing imminent artillery strikes. Who could have imagined that such a silent curse would soon become reality, turning the mighty British Empire into a pitiful scapegoat?
At least the commanders of the British fleet at sea didn't expect it.
The intense artillery fire, like a passing storm, wreaked havoc when stationary but gradually weakened and disappeared as it moved. As the silence descended, the survivors couldn't help but feel as if they had crossed into another world.
"Lent!" Logan shouted.
"Colonel, I'm here!" Stauffenberg emerged, his paratrooper helmet dusty and disheveled.
Logan furrowed his brows and quickly said, "Report to the command headquarters in my name. The British Navy may have reinforced warships to the waters around Wight. At dawn, Staucka will launch a full-scale attack, and please ask the Air Force Command to continue the high-intensity bombing of southern England! Also, the cannons, our cannons, must be transported to Wight today! And remember to protect Lieutenant Colonel Petter Elhoff, and make sure he is safely delivered to Wight!"
"Understood!" Stauffenberg had witnessed the exceptional talent of the Waffen-SS artillery officer who had "transferred" from the Wehrmacht at Monk. Perhaps he was the one who could make the haughty heads of the British Navy bow low?