novelAbuy Chapter 99 Modern Special Operations: Minute-Precision Dimensional Reduction Strike, Crete Falls
Chapter 99 Modern Special Operations: Minute-Precision Dimensional Reduction Strike, Crete Falls
Chapter 100 Modern Special Operations: Minute-Precision Dimensional Reduction Strike, Crete Falls
4:7 AM on August 31, 1940.
The German Air Force's special operations were precise down to the minute, demonstrating a thorough understanding of Sean's modern special operations concepts.
Not only did the Cretan garrison not expect this, but the whole world did not expect it.
A team of fewer than fifty men played a decisive role in turning the tide of the battle.
Modern special operations are sophisticated and covert, something completely unimaginable in the era of World War II.
Aside from hearing the explosion, they had no way of knowing what had happened on Hill 107. All communications were cut off, and from a distance, all they could see were flames on the hillside.
By the time Bernard realized what was happening and notified the 23rd Battalion of New Zealand, another battalion stationed near Marama Airport, it was already too late.
The soldiers of the 23rd Battalion, dressed in their uniforms and led by the major, headed toward the airport. However, the mountain roads were rugged and transportation was inconvenient. The British Allied forces lacked heavy weapons and vehicles, and by the time they arrived at the airport, it was already 4:15.
A tremendous roar of engines could be heard from the distant sea.
The clouds trembled, and the dark sea, accompanied by a howling sound, was like the howling of demons in one's ears.
"Germans, German planes, hurry, hurry to the airport, sabotage the runway."
A battalion of soldiers surged toward the airport like a tidal wave.
On Hill 107, several paratroopers stood high above, holding signal pistols and loading grenades.
Pull the trigger the instant the New Zealander gets close.
Firelight flared on the dark hillside as several grenades flew through the sky.
New Zealanders, armed only with rifles and lacking submachine guns, watched as grenades flew down the hillside and immediately clenched their fists.
"Damn it, that's awful."
A series of explosions rang out, signaling the start of the battle for Crete.
As flames flashed, a dozen paratroopers emerged from the woods on one side of the airport, firing their assault rifles incessantly.
The gun barrels were throbbing, and all I could hear were the sounds of gunfire and explosions.
Although there were only a dozen or so people, their firepower far exceeded the New Zealanders' expectations.
The bullet storm was like a swarm of carp attracted by the smell of blood, bloodthirsty and frenzied.
A dense hail of bullets pierced through the charging defenders.
During the run, more than a dozen people collapsed to the ground as soon as they took their first steps.
"Get down, get down! The enemy's firepower is strong, machine guns, machine guns!"
New Zealanders are brave; this small country with a small population provided Britain with a large number of soldiers.
They lay on the ground, set up machine guns, and returned fire with the only heavy firepower they had.
boom!
A stray bullet pierced a paratrooper's forehead.
The Green Devil has suffered casualties.
The remaining twenty-odd paratroopers fired recklessly, and time ticked by.
At 4:21, after a difficult six minutes of blocking the opponent.
Flames shot into the sky from the eastern part of Crete as a large number of bombers began dropping bombs.
The Italian fleet arrived, its cannons roared, and massive shells rained down on the coast of the eastern port of Souda.
The peaceful town was suddenly engulfed in flames, and the battleship's main guns were like demons, turning a piece of land into dust with each shot.
Stuka appeared at Marama Airport, and several signal flares landed in front of the New Zealanders' positions.
This move took the British coalition forces by surprise.
Then a whistling sound came from the sky.
"Vulture 007 led a team to attack the ground and assist our side in capturing the airport."
"Vulture 011 received."
"Vulture 013 received."
"Captain, it's our plane."
One of the Green Devil's team members breathed a sigh of relief.
"Everyone take cover, take the wounded away, our mission is complete."
The whooshing sound of the dive terrified the British Allied forces on the ground.
"Damn it."
Bang bang bang bang!
Flames rained down from the sky, machine guns began to spew flames, and dirt was hurled from the ground.
Bullets swept across the ground, sending numerous infantrymen flying in disarray.
They dared not raise their heads, but could only lie on the ground, praying for God's mercy.
Watching his men being hit by bullets one by one, the battalion commander of the 23rd Battalion's eyes turned red.
"Oh shit."
Bang! A recruit's head exploded, and a piece of his skull landed on the veteran next to him. He stood there dumbfounded, picking up his comrade's skull with his hands, which trembled uncontrollably.
Pink brains were scattered all around.
The remaining people were filled with despair.
Blood was everywhere around the airport.
"It's over, we're too late."
"Eagle Nest has spotted a ground guidance beacon and has reached the airdrop location."
"Hurry, hurry, hurry!"
Colonel Myndal, commander of the 5th Parachute Division, kept urging them on.
Two battalions of paratroopers jumped out of the plane and into the sky.
Looking at the numerous umbrellas in the distance, Major General Bernard kept flicking his lighter.
"Send a telegram to Alexandria. We need a fleet, we need planes, otherwise Crete will fall."
He ordered the eastern and western garrisons to hold the line to the death.
I personally led the team to Marama Airport.
Upon landing, the paratroopers immediately searched for airdropped weapon supply crates. The German Air Force employed a method of separating personnel and weapons during airdrops, which remains the mainstream approach today.
The only downside is that if they can't find a weapon, these paratroopers only have the most basic pistols.
Submachine guns and assault rifles cannot currently be used while parachuting.
However, the use of ground-guided beacons somewhat mitigated this weakness, and with the airport already captured, they were able to calmly pick up their weapons and ammunition and begin resupplying.
With the addition of two battalions of paratroopers, the battle immediately took a one-sided turn.
The bombing of central and western regions continued, but this time Germany concentrated its superior forces to launch an attack on the east, unlike the previous three-pronged attack.
Göring had high hopes for the Green Devil.
Watching the glider land.
Major General Bernard felt a bitter taste in his mouth. "It's over. The Germans have landed. Marama Airport has fallen. We must get to the bridge immediately and cut off the connection between the east and the center."
The cabin doors opened, and rows of German army soldiers wearing steel helmets finally landed.
Mountain troops from the 5th Mountain Division of the 12th Army Group began to take over the airport, clear the runway, and direct the aircraft to leave.
Waves of airborne troops landed one after another, plunging the east into crisis.
6:45 am.
Major General Student, commander of the Army Division, and Major General Sussman, commander of the 7th Airborne Division, arrived at Marama Airport at the same time.
The major general, who was supposed to die during the airdrop on Crete, was now straightening his collar as the 3rd Parachute Regiment he led landed safely.
At this moment, more than three thousand German Luftwaffe Jägers have been assembled in the east.
With the continuous airdrops of the 5th Mountain Division, Germany gained a decisive advantage in eastern Crete.
"Supreme Command has been notified that Sussman has successfully arrived at the airport and is now under complete control. The 7th Air Division has taken over the Marama Line, and the 5th Mountain Division will proceed to Iraqi Lin and seize the local airport to pave the way for the Wayne Commando Division's air assault."
The East is already under the Empire's control.
Berlin, Germany.
Göring waited anxiously, smoking incessantly.
The office was filled with thick smoke.
"Report."
"Come in."
"Marshal, the Air Force has captured Marama Airport and successfully conducted an air assault. The 5th Mountain Division of the Army and our 7th..."
The airborne division is making good progress.
"real?"
"yes!"
Hahaha, Goring stood up excitedly and stubbed out his cigarette.
"I want to celebrate their victory."
This battle, which should have been the graveyard of German paratroopers, saw fewer than 300 paratroopers lost on the first day, while the British Allied forces suffered more than 4000 casualties.
December 1940, 8.
On the second day of the war, Germany had successfully air-dropped its 6th Mountain Division.
With control of the two eastern airfields, a large amount of supplies and soldiers arrived on the island, and the balance of the war tipped in the Germans' favor.
With the support of the 5th Parachute Division, the German 5th Mountain Division captured the city of Chania and successfully controlled the port of Souda Bay. Under heavy bombardment from the Italian fleet, the mountain troops of the Italian 2nd Julia Division and the 47th Barry Infantry Division began to land.
At this point, the combined German and Italian forces had far surpassed the combined British and Greek forces.
December 1940, 8.
The German newspaper Observer is enthusiastically announcing good news.
The Empire's capture of Crete is now a fact.
The Air Force conducted special operations, launching a surprise attack on Crete.
All members of the Green Devil Special Forces have been awarded the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross.
The Green Devil is a special forces unit modeled after Sean Wayne, the father of special operations.
[Sean Weinberg, an American hero in Germany, and also the father of the German Special Forces]
"Wow, we won again?"
A middle-aged man looked at the newspaper and asked his friend curiously.
"Yes, we won again."
"The Green Goblin Special Forces?"
"It must be the tactical squad that Lord Sean Wayne mentioned. This unit must have been established based on your ideas."
"Absolutely, Mr. Sean is the father of special operations."
Special operations.
A term that was originally ridiculed by countless people has entered the entire Western world.
In London, England, when Churchill heard the Alexandria fleet's request for support, he was filled with an indescribable sorrow.
"Special operations, damn it, the Germans actually adopted Sean's theory, this cancer of war."
"Prime Minister, we never expected the Germans to be this crazy."
Ramsey comforted his friend.
Churchill closed his eyes. "Well, it's my fault. Just like when Germany defeated France, we once again ignored Sean's ideas. That damn bastard, why does he always have to subvert the current way of warfare, decapitation strikes, special operations, air-ground integration?"
Is this bastard trying to make the war even more brutal?
"We should learn from the Germans and build new armored forces, otherwise we will fall behind the times."
"Yes, form new armored forces and develop new tanks and aircraft."
At the Royal Air Service's base, looking at the Times news.
Sterling excitedly waved his fist and jumped up and down happily in the barracks.
"Special operations, is this what special operations is? Sean Wayne is a fucking genius. I need to file a report. I need to form a small team to conduct small-scale operations. The Royal Air Force should have its own special forces."
Washington, D.C.
Marshall looked at the newspaper with a broad smile on his face.
"Oh my god, special operations. Sean is such a pity. Why didn't he want to be an Army advisor?"
I'm very curious about special operations. How exactly did the Germans take Crete?
Did they really do it according to Sean's instructions?
My God, Eisenhower.
"Yes, Chief of Staff."
"Should we also establish a special force?"
"Currently, Canada has applied to form a special operations brigade with us, which seems to be because they also want to learn from Sean Wayne's tactical theories."
"They just want to train troops. What I want isn't the T3 Sean mentioned, but the T0! You've seen those instructors, right? They're the special weapons and tactics units."
Eisenhower recalled it with an indescribable expression on his face.
"Yes, I've seen them. They were a terrible bunch."
"Excellent. Tell Sean Wayne that the War Department wants him to train an elite special forces unit for the army. He can name the price, and he can name the unit!"
At the Washington Hotel, De Gaulle opened the door to his room, and a waiter pushed a food cart inside.
The leader of Free France took out a dollar and handed it to the other party.
The waiter happily took it and put it in his pocket. "Sir, you lost."
What?
De Gaulle looked at the other person curiously. "I lost? What do you mean?"
"Don't you know? The German Luftwaffe carried out special operations on Crete, the kind of tactics Sean Wayne was talking about, and Crete was almost occupied by the German army."
You lost again. You shouldn't have laughed at him. Sean is a terrible curse.
Only Italy can break through, you can't.
Old Mexicans are his lifelong enemy.
"Bastards." De Gaulle looked disgusted. These Germans are a bunch of lunatics, and Sean Wayne is a cancer.
The whole of America is talking about an interesting topic: what kind of guys are special forces? How are they different from ordinary soldiers?
Sean Wayne has once again become a hot topic of conversation.
This time, no one mocked special operations as something out of a movie script.
The German Air Force proved with its combat record that you were utterly ignorant.
Berlin, Germany.
Göring was all smiles today. He had won, won again, and won so many times he was numb with joy. Call me the God of War of the Empire.
The moment he saw Him, he immediately walked up to him with a smile.
"Hey Himm, how's the special operations going?" Quick, congratulate me, I'm the father of special operations.
"Lord Sean Wayne truly deserves to be called the father of special operations."
What did you say? It was me, it was the plan I devised.
Seeing Göring's irritable expression, Himm pulled him to the window of the command building.
"See, everyone says that."
Damn it, Göring clenched his fist.
Haven't I done anything? At least give me a compliment.
I also have tactics; I'm not the kind of person the army claims to be—talented but lacking ambition.
Himm looked at Goring, who had been riding high lately, and felt a deep sadness in his heart.
He decided to do something crazy, just like Göring had done.
Wearing his own uniform and glasses, Himm led a group of stormtroopers out of the command headquarters and into an aircraft manufacturing company that was not well known to many.
Wich GmbH, Germany.
The president of the Vichy Company nearly suffered a heart attack as a large group of SS soldiers stormed in.
As a small company, he didn't know why Himm would come to him.
If anyone were to come, it should be Göring.
"Your Excellency, I do not know how I can be of service to you."
Himm patted the other man's chest, sending a chill through the president. The man's expression remained calm, but it only intensified Himm's fear.
"Sir, what do you want to do?"
"I'm here to take him away."
What did you say? Kidnapping people?
"Sir, I must have misheard you, right? You must have misheard. You're trying to kidnap someone from our airline?"
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