Chereads / The rise of the third reich / Chapter 134 - Halt the assault

Chapter 134 - Halt the assault

As Rommel approached to deliver his morning report on the armored forces' trial, which had been thwarted by the defenders, Akado's mood was noticeably buoyant. He engaged in light-hearted conversation with his confidant about the weather, then inquired with genuine interest, "How was the canned food last night? Did you sleep well?"

"My head of state, I slept very well indeed, better than I have in many days," Rommel replied with evident pride. "I had to chase after my troops a few days ago. They are among my best men."

"All soldiers who bravely shed blood on the battlefield for the fatherland are the sons of the German people, General Rommel," Akado responded with a chuckle. "You are also very brave. Fanny often mentions you to me, saying the photos you sent were excellent. She even mentioned that my chief photographer, Mr. Hugo, would invite you to dine on steak at the finest restaurant in Berlin."

Photographer Hugo, who had been taking pictures from one side, quickly lowered his camera and waved his hand dismissively, "I did talk about dining with General Rommel! But I never promised the best restaurant—my salary wouldn't cover that!"

Akado laughed heartily. "No matter! I am quite fond of photography myself. If Mr. Hugo doesn't mind, perhaps you could join us to discuss the finer points of photography. I'll host at the best restaurant," Rommel suggested with a grin.

"Let's not send the armored forces to attack anymore. Their tactics aren't suited for urban combat. Have them pull back and clear the way for the assault positions," Akado instructed Rommel. "Give your men a few days off and convey my gratitude as the German head of state for their valiant efforts. They deserve this honor."

"They will be greatly heartened to hear the head of state's praise," Romel replied.

After a moment's thought, Akado added, "Let's halt any large-scale offenses. I don't want to trade the lives of our soldiers for mere accolades. Cut off all energy and food supplies to Warsaw and wait for them to surrender."

Liszt, who was standing nearby, immediately nodded in agreement with Akado's strategy. "The head of state's concern for the lives of frontline soldiers will surely uplift the spirits of the grassroots officers and men."

"Rest assured, General Liszt," Fanny interjected with a smile. "We will make sure to report this news accurately so that the German people understand the head of state's deep concern."

While the head of state and his generals shared light moments at the front, and photographs of Akado next to planes filled the streets, countless others remained unnoticed by history. These were the individuals who might not even merit a mention, much like extras in a television series. Yet, among them were those performing heroic deeds, capable of deeply moving their comrades with a simple pat on the back and words of encouragement, even though their reassurances might sound to some like a call to march towards certain doom. Akado was one such figure.

Most people, however, did not possess this aura of a protagonist or the authority of a superior. They lived routine lives—working, fighting, and returning—motivated by the need for a paycheck or a decent existence. Many might envy the pilots soaring through the skies in their aircraft, or the tank operators experiencing the adrenaline rush of combat, but such roles came with immense risks, especially during wartime. The allure of these positions often obscured the peril they entailed.

What truly enabled these glamorous roles to shine were the ordinary soldiers supporting them. Many of these soldiers never came face-to-face with the enemy or fired a weapon in anger, but without their contributions, the war machine would grind to a halt.

Despite it being late September, the weather in Poland remained oppressively hot, particularly for those engaged in strenuous physical labor. Ground crews from two bomber squadrons were busy inspecting and loading bombs next to the runway. These crews, often overlooked in terms of glamour, played a crucial role in keeping the air force operational. They worked tirelessly, despite the heat and the monotony of their tasks.

Nearby, three shirtless ground crew members were busy mounting bombs onto the wings of a Do-217 bomber, Germany's sole medium-sized bomber in service. Although regulations required the wearing of protective gear, the sweltering heat and the arduous nature of their work led many to disregard this rule.

The Do-217 had been upgraded to include a robust protection system and was armed with three powerful 13 mm caliber machine guns. This formidable armament allowed it to hold its own against Polish aircraft. The accompanying FW-190D fighter pilots, including one with a Mickey Mouse insignia painted on the nose, had impressive records, highlighting the Luftwaffe's dominance: the Do-217 bombers had downed 29 Polish fighters in the Battle of Poland, losing only 17 in return, with just six falling to enemy aircraft.

As one FW-190D taxied to a stop, the pilot climbed out and tossed his leather cap with goggles to a ground officer, grinning, "The adjustment you made to the horizontal stabilizer was perfect! When my wingman returns, we'll treat you to champagne."

"Galander! How many more today?" the ground officer joked, catching the cap. "Trying to bribe me with a meal? That's not enough—you owe me two packs of cigarettes at least."

Galander, removing his parachute pack, complained, "The Polish Air Force was swarming like mad bulls just a few days ago. Remember my record of 10 in one day? Today, I barely saw two in an hour."

"You're lucky. The squadron that took off an hour before you didn't spot a single Polish plane," the ground officer laughed. "Why didn't you escort the head of state's plane back to Berlin yesterday morning?"

"There were no Polish planes on the eastern front to chase the head of state's Dornier airliner," Galander replied as they walked. "I'm not one for those flattering assignments. I'd rather dismantle my opponents in the sky—that's more my style."

"I heard the Do-217 squadron over there presented the head of state with a gift? And he liked it very much?" the ground officer mentioned, offering a cigarette to Galander, who also took one for himself.

"Can you arrange a camera on my plane?" Galander asked.

"Why? Planning to switch to reconnaissance?" the ground officer smirked.

"Ah, it seems I'm not the type who can please the boss," Galander sighed, then laughed. "Let's go have that drink. I've got patrol duty tomorrow afternoon."

The Do-217 bombers and Stukas had become the stars of the German air force, paralyzing enemy movements along the coast. Their relentless assaults ensured that reinforcements and supplies were decimated before reaching the front lines. In honor of Marshal Hindenburg from World War I, the Do-217 bomber squadron was named the Hindenburg Squadron, symbolized by an eagle dropping a bomb on a railway. Their primary mission was to disrupt enemy rail transport, but with Poland as their current target, they ruthlessly bombed every conceivable location—even the heart of Warsaw.

The night before Akado's return to Berlin, the squadron leader compiled an album of photos taken by the bomber pilots and presented it to the great German head of state. The following day, they bombarded the encircled Polish Pomeranian Army in northern Warsaw, dropping 20 tons of munitions in a single assault, leading to the Pomeranian Legion's surrender. The legion's commander, Portorsky, surrendered to the German armored forces at the front and awaited Rommel's arrival to formally hand over his saber.

As the last organized field corps in Poland, the Pomeranian Corps was eliminated on September 27. With the Polish Air Force now unable to mount a formal challenge and the Army cornered, the situation looked dire. The rapid German advance had overwhelmed them, cutting off communications and encircling Warsaw before they could mount a response. Victory was decisively in German hands.

Having inspected his efficient and formidable forces in Poland, Akado secretly returned to Berlin by plane. Upon landing, he learned that Klug, influenced by Akado's strategies, had been promoted to commander-in-chief of the newly formed Group F Army stationed in Poland.