Battle of the Third Reich Chapter 170: In the desert (2 in 1)
"Dust returns to dust, soil returns to soil." A rifle with the bolt removed was inserted straight into the sand, and a sand-colored steel helmet was buckled on top of the butt.
"All stand at attention! Salute!" After adjusting the neckline of the sandy uniform, Randolph raised his right arm to bid farewell to the dead. Behind the lieutenant colonel, the three SS soldiers stood tall and solemn. They raised their bayonet-mounted rifles and offered gun salutes to the victims.
"Ready! Shoot!" Captain Horn gave a loud order, and the soldiers raised their rifles and shot into the sky. Emptying the five live ammunition in the magazine, this simple battlefield funeral ceremony was officially completed.
"This is the home of a soldier. Although it is not a battlefield, it is better than dying on a bed." Jurgen bent down and grabbed a handful of sand, then released his fingers, and the falling sand drifted with the wind.
"What should we do next, do we find our way out, or continue to stay where we are waiting for rescue." Lieutenant Krieger was covered with a gray-green military hemostatic bandage, and the blood from the wound on the side of the head had condensed into A brown blood spot.
"One day has passed. We must now find a way to save ourselves. The drinking water carried on the plane will not support for long. We must find the oasis before the fresh water runs out." Randolph walked to the crowd with his arms akimbo. , Announcing his opinion loudly. In fact, this is equivalent to an order, after all, he has the highest military rank present.
"Before we set off, we need to double-check this big guy again to see what else we can use." Randolph gave a thumbs up and pointed to the wreckage behind him.
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"Their course is very clear. If the plane does not yaw, we estimate that they may make an emergency landing in this area." The person speaking was a major staff officer of the Royal Air Force who was holding a pointer on a huge aerial map. The above points out the scope.
"You have also seen that it is a large area, and we have insufficient search forces." The speaker was a British army lieutenant colonel.
"What about the results of the aerial reconnaissance? Haven't found any traces of the plane?" Colonel Dougan wore a blue-gray Waffen-SS colonel uniform with a red-ground black eagle shield from the Führer’s headquarters on his left arm. The cuffs are also sewn with the black armband of the Führer Guard Flag Team.
This is a figure from the core of the Third Reich. At this moment, whether British or German in the conference room, they all feel the invisible pressure, because behind this colonel is the legendary empire. Head of state.
"Sorry, there is no result yet. When the accident was discovered, the Yanbu Port base dispatched a light reconnaissance plane immediately, but then that plane also disappeared. In the final contact record, the pilot Reporting that the aircraft was hit by sandstorms, the entire sky was yellowed by sand and dust. He wanted to climb to the top of the clouds, but communication was suddenly interrupted." A German Air Force major reported.
"They can't disappear without a trace in the world. There will always be some traces left. I can feel that Lieutenant Colonel Randolph is still alive. He is somewhere in this desert, waiting We rushed to the rescue. How much baggage did they carry when they set off?" Daogen turned his head and looked at the British lieutenant colonel.
"They were flying on a modified "Wellington" bomber. The cabin had a large internal space and there were eleven pilots. Because the original plan was to return to Yanbu Port on the same day, everyone only carried The standard individual rations, plus first aid food and drinking water on the plane, is estimated to guarantee their survival needs for 48 hours. We now only worry that some of them will be injured in the fall, because the wounded will accelerate their drinking water consumption." The lieutenant colonel reported.
"Wellington's airframe structure is very strong. The pilot, Lieutenant Winter, is a veteran. He has flown for more than 9,000 hours, and most of the flight time is Wellington. We believe that after the aircraft was accident, with the technology of Lieutenant Winter, It should be possible to drive the plane to make an emergency landing on the desert." The Royal Air Force Major added.
"It has been more than twenty-four hours since the incident, and we are running out of time." Daogen said with a straight face.
"Sir, the 21st Armored Regiment reported that they have sent a search force to the target area according to your order." The SS communications officer handed over a translation of the telegram.
"How about the search team you sent before? I heard that they are also missing." Dogen lowered his head and looked at the telegram, then raised his eyes to the British Army Lieutenant Colonel.
"It's just a loss of contact, maybe a communication failure. The guide they hired is very experienced and shouldn't get lost in the desert." The lieutenant colonel reported.
After Randolph's plane crash, the news alarmed the British Army troops who were landing at Yanbu Port. The British Army volunteered to send an elite airborne team, and they flew over the Hanzhi Mountains in three gliders. According to the report of the towed aircraft, all three gliders successfully landed in the desert, but when the scheduled communication time was reached, the Yanbu base did not receive the radio signal from the other side. The search team formed by paratroopers seemed to evaporate under the scorching desert sun, which made the British army feel a little baffled.
"Tell me about the missing reconnaissance plane." Dougan glanced at the German Air Force Major.
"It was a white stork reconnaissance aircraft under the command of the African Legion. The pilot was Second Lieutenant Lehad, and the back seat observer was Sergeant Major Corrison. Lehad was an excellent pilot who fought in Poland and France. He has won the Military Meritorious Sword Cross. As long as the structure of the aircraft is not damaged, he will be able to land the aircraft safely." The Air Force Major’s tone was quite affirmative, and he was obviously confident in the pilot’s skills.
"You know this... Lieutenant Lehard?" Dougan asked.
"Yes, sir, he is the best white stork pilot I have ever seen." The Air Force major replied loudly.
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"Don't control the radio, this stuff is done." Lehad used a short knife to cut a piece of canvas skin on the tail wing, which was the shield logo of the African Army Command Flying Team.
"The contact has been interrupted for twenty-six hours. The above must be mobilizing troops to conduct a search. They must know that we are all alive." Half of the observer went into the cabin slanted and buried in the sand dunes, trying to debug. The radio transmitter in the rear compartment.
"If we continue to stay here, we will all be unable to live." Lehard stuffed the canvas into the soft combat hat and added a sun shade to himself.
"Our current position is to the south of the scheduled route, at least ten kilometers away." Lehard sat down in the shadow under the fuselage, checking the aerial map spread on the sand.
"The onboard compass still works. I also brought an extra compass." Lehad adjusted the position of the map.
"If I am correct, we are heading in that direction. There is an ancient water source fifteen kilometers away. If we can find fresh water there, we should be able to insist on the search team to find us." The ensign pointed to a small dot on the map.
"I don't think this is a good idea. We should stay near the plane." The observer gave up his efforts to restore radio communication. As the pilot said, this thing was completely finished.
"Then let those savage Arabs catch you? They will strip you alive." Lehad frightened his comrades.
"Are there Arabs around here?" Sergeant Major Corrison subconsciously held the holster around his waist.
"Who knows, they are wandering around in the desert. Maybe there is a pile of pointed tents behind that dune, filled with cannibal Arabs."
"Are they still eating people?!" The Sergeant Major's eyes widened in horror. He had never heard of such a thing.
"They also like to strip the captured prisoners naked, and then pierce them on a sharp wooden stake standing on the sand, letting the prisoners howl in pain under the scorching sun, it often takes two or three days for the victim to die. "The pilot continued to intimidate the Sergeant Major while tidying up his debris bag.
"I remember hearing about this kind of thing. In the Middle Ages, Transvala.. It was a place with a similar name. I didn’t expect that there are still people using such brutal punishments on prisoners. This is a serious violation. The Geneva Convention."
"Transylvania." The pilot shook the spare kettle. He usually put one or two in the cabin just to get it in case of an accident.
"What did you say?" the Sergeant Major asked.
"The name of the place you mentioned, Transylvania. Besides, the Arabs have never signed the Geneva Convention."
"Did they not sign?"
"No sign." The pilot nodded affirmatively.
"Damn it." The Chief Sergeant kicked the sand pile hard.
"Okay, stop complaining, put on your backpack, we are ready to go, today we have a long way to go." The pilot checked the Mauser holster on his waist and picked up the emergency response Military satchel for food.
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"You haven't contacted yet?" Captain Fokker squatted in the shadow of the sand dunes and asked the communicator who was debugging the radio.
"All that was received was noise." The correspondent shook his head and said.
"Sir, I suggest that we should return to the landing site." A second lieutenant suggested to Fokker.
"No, Lieutenant Hull, we must move on now to reach the Hamill Spring on the map, where to replenish clean water. Now even if we return to the landing site, I am afraid there is no way to cross the Hanzhi Mountains." Fokker The captain stuffed a spoonful of corned beef in his mouth and passed the can to a paratrooper on his left.
Although there is only half a paratrooper platoon here, each of them is the elite of the army paratroopers. They have received special operations training in the desert in Egypt and know how to survive and fight in this environment. Otherwise, the British Command Nor will they be sent to complete this task. This operation involved not only the allied relationship between the British and German armies, but also an attempt to rebuild the honor of the British Army, but now it seems that the above plan is likely to fail.
"We have sufficient supplies. The most important thing at the moment is to find supplementary water sources. If the guide is not pointing in the wrong direction, we will be able to reach the ancient spring in three hours. From there, Jubai is fifty kilometers east. It is a village built around an oasis, where we can get supplies and find a way to get in touch with the superiors." The captain took off the kettle from his waist, unscrewed the lid and took a sip of fresh water.
"So what about the task of searching for the Germans? Sir." the correspondent asked.
"If the location given above is correct, they should have fallen near here, and we will start searching on the way to the oasis. Now my first consideration is the safety of the subordinates. Only after this premise is guaranteed, Only then can the prescribed order be executed." Fokker tightened the lid firmly and tucked the kettle back around his waist.
"We are almost resting now. We are going to reach the water source before noon. Everyone cheered up and set off!" The captain stood up and carried his Thomson on his back.
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"Tank! Go ahead!" Lieutenant Spalu waved his arm forward handsomely, and the tank engine let out a loud roar.
The 38T tank is an armored vehicle with excellent performance, but it is not very suitable for combat in desert areas. During the long-distance march, the 38T engine cooling system has been severely tested. It was not designed for tropical combat. In the Czech Republic, the average maximum temperature in summer did not exceed 25.
The German tank soldiers should be thankful that it is a cool winter with an average temperature of about 26 or 7 degrees. If it is the hottest summer, I am afraid they will all be cooked in these iron pots.
Because the armored company has left the desert road, it means that they can no longer get logistical supplies in a short period of time. In order to save precious cooling water, the tank must stop and rest every once in a while.
Along with the second company, there were two platoons of motorized infantry. They were filled with various ammunition and supplies in every gap in their half-track personnel carrier.
The battlefield supply squad of the Second Armored Company is equipped with three off-road heavy trucks. The compartments are now filled with large and small wooden boxes and iron drums, which are spare parts, fuel, fresh water and engine lubricant.
The tank itself has a strong load capacity. In order to carry more luggage, the German tankers used almost every plane on which materials can be stacked. Even the top of the turret has two ammunition boxes stacked. It's the same as a long-distance bus.
Don't think that they carry a lot of materials. The officers and soldiers of the two companies and vehicles are consumed. This is only enough to support the three-day combat operation of this armored unit. This is the true face of modern warfare. The story of mechanized troops abandoning their heavyweights and fighting independently exists only in the imagination of novelists.
"From the map, we are still 70 kilometers away from the destination." Sergeant Rem sits on the communication seat~IndoMTL.com~ holding a military map in his hand, The taxi opened the doorway cover above his head.
"They will drop a batch of supplies for us at this place called Hamill Well." Spalu untied the canteen on the tank bulkhead and drank a large sip of water.
"So we must arrive at the destination on time and clear out an airdrop area as soon as possible. It should be noted that we may encounter nomadic cavalry there. It is an ancient desert water source, which will definitely attract many Arabs. Someone is going to supply fresh water." Spalu screwed on the lid and hung the kettle back on the bulkhead.
"Don't worry, sir, whether it's a hundred or a thousand Arab cavalry, we will wipe them out. It's just a matter of time." The driver Heinz inserted into the conversation.
"You're right, Heinz, it's just a matter of length of time." Spalu rolled down the pedals and stuck out half of his body from the turret. He observed a descending army back and forth, and was satisfied Swings his arms forward.
"Tank! Keep going!"
PS: Two in one chapter, thank you for your support, the author is still working hard.