God World War II: I Use the Great Virtue to Clear the World

War Injury Edition

In July 1943, the air along the southern line of Kursk was filled with the pungent smell of diesel fuel mixed with gunpowder. Major Hugo Klaas, commander of the 1st Battalion of the 2nd SS Panzergrenadier Regiment, stood next to the command vehicle. In the field of vision of the telescope, the outline of Hill 234 was distorted by artillery fire. His troops belong to the "Kempf" battle group. In the past few days, they tore apart the Soviet frontline defenses at an alarming speed, and even once occupied a key commanding height overlooking Belgorod. The soldiers' faces were filled with the excitement of victory in the first battle, as if the victory of Operation "Fortress" was within reach. However, the offensive soon descended into a bloody quagmire. The minefields laid deep by the Soviet army were like infinitely extending death traps, and each advance of 100 meters required a heavy price. Major Klaas saw through the telescope that his soldiers fell in pieces like straw under a sickle. When the long-barreled Panzer IV tank, which had been repaired with great difficulty, fired its last shell, an anti-tank mine on the track exploded violently. The jets and fragments easily penetrated the armor at the bottom, followed by another huge explosion, and flames poured out from the top of the turret like water. It seemed that the shell had exploded, but behind the burning wreckage, the infantrymen still bravely rushed towards the Soviet position with their bayonets. Gun smoke mixed with the smell of blood filled the lungs, and the shock waves of the explosion made the earth tremble. The soldiers' eardrums were almost deafened by the continuous roar. A grenadier Lerman, who had just turned eighteen, had been a literature student at Heidelberg University before the war. At this moment, he split the collarbones of Soviet soldiers with a sapper shovel. He felt the resistance of the shovel blade smashing into bones, and when warm blood spattered on his face, he subconsciously recited Holderlin's poem in an attempt to numb himself - "But the poet, create something that lasts forever." However, in the next second, another Soviet soldier's Mosin-Nagant bayonet had penetrated his abdomen. Lerman fell to his knees. The last thing he saw before his vision blurred was a silver pocket watch that fell to the ground. A family photo was embedded in the watch case. The hour hand was frozen at the moment when he secretly tightened the spring before the attack. Klass clenched his fists next to the command vehicle, his nails digging into his palms. He watched the soldiers bite and fight like wild beasts, but there was nothing he could do. One more time! Do it again! We will definitely be able to break through the core position this time. As long as we capture Highland 234, the road ahead should be smooth. Perhaps prayer had an effect. This attack really broke through the core position. Although the defensive force of the Red Army on the opposite side was strong, it could not withstand such consumption. After a long stalemate, they still chose to evacuate. Klass laughed happily, it seems that we are still stronger! But the good times did not last long. Soon, orders came from the rear. Because there was a problem with the radio equipment, the person who came to convey the order was Major Helles, the staff officer of the division, who was also a fellow and friend of Klass. "Why retreat?? I managed to capture Highland 234 with great difficulty! What did the staff think?" Klaas shouted. "It's useless! Everything is useless! The news just came from the army group, the attack on the northern front has failed, and encirclement is no longer possible. According to reliable news on our southern front, the main force of the Steppe Front on the opposite side has also been deployed. Let alone retreat, I think Belgorod will also be lost." Then he hesitated: "There is another thing that you may not know. I will tell you, but you must not tell it. I have a very good businessman friend in Italy. A few days ago, he told me through internal military connections that something might have happened in southern Italy (referring to the Sicily landing campaign), and the head of state is expected to dispatch troops there." When the retreat order was given, Klass's rationality and emotion were violently torn apart. As a commander, he knew that the remaining troops must be preserved; but as an SS officer, retreat meant a betrayal of the creed of "never retreat." Soldiers dragged their festering wounds through the craters, and a sergeant suddenly laughed maniacally as he passed a burning tank - his brother had died in this tank, and at this moment he was unable to even recover the bones. The road to retreat was not easy. The Red Army troops chasing them on the opposite side had very strong technical and tactical skills. The T-34 cluster attacked Klaas's flanks like an iron stream. Several times, the scouts urgently reported that the troops were surrounded on three sides. In order to preserve the remaining troops, he finally had to order all the artillery and damaged vehicles to be blown up in order to make a light breakout. However, he encountered a dive and strafing attack by Soviet IL-2 attack aircraft on the way. When the unit, which suffered more than half of its casualties, staggered back to its starting position, Klaas had less than 40% of the combat troops in his hands. In the headquarters late at night, Klaas was silent in front of the battle map. The coffee delivered by the orderly was already cold, but he didn't even notice. At this time, an urgent message came from the division headquarters: Paul Hausser, commander of the 2nd SS Panzer Corps, personally called to affirm the battalion's "extraordinary courage" on Hill 234 and informed them that they would receive priority in receiving additional troops and equipment. At the end of the message, it was written: "Real steel is always tempered in the strongest fire." These words rekindled Klass's fighting spirit despite exhaustion. He wrote in his diary: "We lost our position, but we did not lose our honor. We must win back the next battle!" However, the readers of this diary page are not fellow German soldiers. In April 1945, Lieutenant Colonel Chernov of the 9th Guards Army of the Soviet Army picked up this diary with curled edges from a pile of captured items after capturing Vienna. He fluently read the last few lines of scrawled words in German - "January 5, 1944, Zhitomir Front... We are still holding on..." - And then turned to the death notice inside: Klass had been killed on the Hungarian battlefield half a year ago. The lieutenant colonel tapped his pipe lightly, and the ashes fell on the spread paper, as if covering this unfinished oath with a handful of loess. After a burst of dazzling white light, Krass struggled to get up and checked his body, only to find that although his body was a little dirty, it was very complete, not at all like the way he had been torn apart by bomb fragments in Zhytomir before. The face of the correspondent beside him was so familiar that Klaas was in a trance. "Are you awake, battalion commander? Then let me report to you the latest battle situation?" "Huh?" "The friendly forces have now opened the railway to Prokhorovka, and we are going up now to help them hold back the Steppe Front!" "Huh???" That's right, Klass traveled to the Kursk battlefield in another time and space. The heart is old, but it welcomes a new battlefield! !

Classmate Xiaoai

In the early stage of World War II, Germany relied on its "blitzkrieg" to achieve a god-level record. However, in the later stage, it failed due to "superiors", "greed for too much" and "mysterious operations". Early stage: Tactical "god-level operation" 1. Blitzkrieg: This is Germany's core "god-level operation". It broke the deadlock of traditional positional warfare, using tank groups to quickly penetrate and cooperate with the precise strikes of dive bombers (Stukas) to complete the encirclement before the enemy could react. Poland and France were quickly defeated by this style of play. 2. Manstein Plan: When attacking France, the main force of the German army did not rush through the Maginot Line. Instead, it unexpectedly passed through the Ardennes Forest, which was considered "impassable for tanks", directly cutting off the main force of the British and French allied forces. It can be called a classic surprise attack in military history. Later period: Strategic "fatal move" 1. Dunkirk "brake": In 1940, German armored forces had besieged more than 300,000 British and French troops on the beaches of Dunkirk. Just when he was about to wipe out his opponents, Hitler suddenly ordered a halt to the attack. This gave the British troops valuable time to retreat and preserved the spark for future counterattacks. 2. Two-front war: Before Britain had surrendered, it rashly launched the "Barbarossa" plan to invade the Soviet Union. As a result, we were caught between the Eastern Front (Soviet Union) and the Western Front (Britain and the United States), which was a taboo for military strategists. 3. Winter in Moscow: Underestimating the Soviet Union's "Winter General". When the German army attacked Moscow in 1941, they did not prepare winter clothing. As a result, a large number of soldiers froze to death and suffered frostbite in the severe cold of dozens of degrees below zero, and their combat effectiveness was sharply reduced. 4. The Stalingrad fight: For the sake of a city, Hitler ordered the city to hold on and not retreat, resulting in the elite 6th Army being completely annihilated, which became a turning point in the entire war. 5. The science and technology tree is crooked: Although black technologies such as V2 rockets and jet fighters were developed, the resources were too scattered and they were put into the battlefield too late, failing to change the situation of the war. Germany's "magic operation" is essentially a contradiction between tactical genius and strategic shortsightedness. They won the battle with the most advanced tactics, but lost the entire war because of a lack of long-term strategic planning (such as resource reserves and alliance management).

For me, among the German generals in World War II, Rommel was the most impressive. Known as the "Desert Fox", he defeated more with less in the North African battlefield. He used mobile tactics to defeat the British many times, demonstrating his outstanding military talents. Although he is loyal to the NC, he clearly opposes Lao hope's extreme policies, does not participate in the TS, and respects prisoners of war. In 1944, he was forced to commit suicide on suspicion of assassinating Lao hope, with a tragic ending. He is both an outstanding tactician and a soldier's conscience. His contradiction between loyalty and conscience reflects the complexity of human nature in war, and also reflects the helplessness and choices of individuals under the torrent of the times.

In Germany during World War II, the most impressive person was not the iron-blooded general, but Oskar Schindler. He used the factory as a refuge, used wealth and wisdom to maneuver among enemy camps, and saved more than a thousand lives. The names on the list are the sparks of hope in despair. Another German soldier, Willy Weidenfeld, secretly delivered food and medicine in the concentration camp. These stories let me see that even in the darkest times, the glimmer of humanity can penetrate the gloom, proving that conscience never dies.

As the title says, it's rare for me to give it a try.

After Viewing If you can calm down and look at it, this is a good book. It is a disguised group portrait. Everyone has his own character and story. He is not just a vassal of the protagonist. The main line is to complete the game and finally reach the content of the first chapter. The protagonist and the character he created lead the Imperial Army to push back against the Alliance Army and reverse the situation of the war. In this process, each character plays his or her own role. Instead of just following the protagonist's orders, they have their own little stories in the process of completing the task, which is great. But there are also shortcomings. Because the ending of the story is written in the first chapter, it will affect the readers' subsequent expectations. The heroine seriously lacks a sense of presence. I am not sure whether she is the heroine, or I mistakenly thought that she is just a female character. I feel that there is no spark with the protagonist. In addition, there is a common problem in group portrait writing. Because a lot of words are spent describing other characters, the description of the real protagonist is insufficient. It seems that he has experienced a lot, but has grown very little. Group portrait writing must also have a focus, just like the soldier assault is not Xu Sanduo's story, but his writing is the heaviest. The growth of the author can be clearly seen in the later part of this book compared to the previous part. I hope the author can keep making progress and write better and better.

This is an unforgettable World War II story: a German fighter pilot spared a wounded American bomber. More than 40 years later, the two pilots reunited and became close friends. On December 20, 1943, 21-year-old American B-17 bomber pilot Charlie Brown took off from the United Kingdom on a mission to bomb Bremen, Germany. During the battle, the bomber was hit by German anti-aircraft artillery and was severely damaged. One crew member was killed and six were injured. The cabin was filled with blood. Brown was left alone to pilot the scarred aircraft back home. At this moment, a German BF109 fighter jet painted black flew in. Brown's co-pilot exclaimed: "Oh my God, this is a nightmare!" For them, who were defenseless, being shot down was the next moment. But then something incredible happened: instead of firing, the German pilot nodded and gestured to Brown to land, but Brown refused. Next, the German aircraft also piloted it for a while on the sea. It was not until the injured machine gunner stretched out his machine gun to take aim that the German aircraft quickly flew away. As soon as Brown landed, he reported the strange incident to his commander, but the commander strictly ordered him to tell anyone else because the spread of this unusual story would be detrimental to the soldiers' hatred of the Germans. After World War II, Brown returned to China, got married, started a family and lived a peaceful life. But this incident has always been unforgettable. His daughter recalled: "I remember that my father often had nightmares and woke up in cold sweats from time to time." In 1987, more than 40 years after the incident, Brown finally made up his mind to find the German pilot who saved his life, although he did not know whether that person was still alive. Brown tried to place an advertisement in the newspaper, looking for the man who "saved my life on December 20, 1943." Soon, a German living in Vancouver, Canada called, and on the phone he Said: "I am the person you are looking for." This German is Franz Stigler, a German Air Force lieutenant during World War II, an ace pilot who shot down 28 enemy planes, and was shot down 17 times. The two made an appointment to meet, and Brown described the feeling of meeting Stigler: "It's like meeting a family member, a brother you haven't seen for 40 years." As soon as they met, Brown asked: "Why didn't you fire at that time to get yourself a medal for downing an enemy plane?" "I can't fire on someone who is unable to resist. ." Stigler replied, "As I approached the bomber, I could see that the aircraft had a lot of damage. There was a big hole in the fuselage, and there were bleeding casualties inside. The situation was very bad. I made the gesture to hope that you would make an emergency landing in Germany and hope that you would surrender." In fact, Stigler did not kill the Americans at risk, and if he was seen, he might be charged with treason. After returning home, he did not tell anyone about the incident, otherwise he would have to face a military court. Whether it was World War I or World War II, the German Air Force was quite chivalrous. For example, it did not attack enemies who parachuted to escape, took the initiative to bury the remains of Allied pilots, and treated captured Allied pilots well in accordance with the Geneva Convention. Stiegler recalled: "After I enlisted, my squadron leader Rodel warned me: 'Follow the rules of war for the sake of your own humanity. If I saw or heard you shooting a pilot on a parachute, I would shoot you down myself! " World War II was cruel to Stigler. He lost his brother, lived in poverty after the war, and had to emigrate abroad. Sparing the American bomber was the only good thing he encountered in the war, and it was something to be proud of. Because of him, Brown and the crew members survived, and their aftermath As a result, descendants of Brown had the opportunity to be born into the world. There are as many as 25 descendants of Brown, including boys and girls. The two old people became good friends, and their story continued until 2008. Miraculously, they both died at the age of 92 and Brown at the age of 87.

In the underground bunker of the former Soviet Army fuel warehouse, dim lanterns cast swaying light and shadow on the damp walls. Major Klaas saw that "Lieutenant Colonel Keizer", no, not a lieutenant colonel. Look at the flag filled with armored troops and mechanized infantry of at least a division level with high morale. He was at least a colonel, or even a general, but why had he heard of him from Huawei in his previous life? Claes shook his head, refocused his attention, and observed the other party carefully. The opponent was tall and lean, wearing a decent field uniform, but a strange, non-leather lining material was exposed at the frayed cuffs. In his headquarters, next to the map, there was a radio model that Krass had never seen before, and several staff officers were talking in low voices mixed with some abbreviations that he could not understand. "Major Klaas! I read your fire reconnaissance report. It is clean and clear, and the casualty control is better than I imagined." Keizer reached out his hand enthusiastically, with a sincere smile, and there was a strange calmness in his eyes that transcended the anxiety of the current battle situation. "I like commanders who know how to cherish the lives of soldiers. But next, I need you and your battalion to do a more difficult and important thing for the entire group." He pointed to the two fang-like farms on the map: "I need you to launch a real infantry assault on the two farms of 'Youth Regiment' and 'October' at the same time - and without any artillery preparations. Tonight. " " Attacking two strong points at the same time without artillery fire?" Klaas's blood almost solidified, "Lieutenant Colonel... Your Excellency, this is equivalent to letting my soldiers rush to the machine gun position with bare hands. The casualties will be catastrophic, and it will be impossible to achieve any tactical purpose." The smile on Keizer's face faded slightly, but his eyes were still sharp. He did not refute, but took out a folded piece of letter paper from the document bag and gently pushed it in front of Klas. The letterhead is "Kempf Battle Group Headquarters", and below it is the familiar sharp signature of General Adolf Kempf. The order is short and absolute: "The 1st Battalion must fully cooperate with Lieutenant Colonel Keizer's reconnaissance requirements. This order has the highest priority. No questioning." "Soldiers will not sacrifice their lives in vain, Major." Keizer's voice lowered, with an unquestionable power, "What I want is not occupation, not even occupation. Breakthrough. I want you to use your battalion, like a stone thrown into a dark pond, to stir up all hidden ripples. I want every bunker, every anti-tank emplacement, every ambush and reserve gathering place to be exposed tonight. This is the price that must be paid for a greater victory. " Klaas felt a cold weakness. Military orders are pouring in, especially from the group commander himself. He gave a stiff military salute with a dry throat: "Yes, Lieutenant Colonel. Our unit will begin operations after midnight." That night, dark clouds covered the moon. Klass's battalion was blessed by God and had no moonlight. His soldiers were able to complete the approach to the two farms in extreme concealment. The lack of artillery preparation meant that they lost the most important means of suppression and cover, so everything had to be done very carefully. The attacks were launched simultaneously at one o'clock in the morning. In the early stage, we achieved amazing tactical surprise. The small number of assault engineers first used wire cutters to quietly clean up part of the outer barbed wire. Then the leading infantry squad used the night and the terrain with gun marks from previous battles to reach the edge of the first Soviet trench. They even used bayonets and engineer shovels to clear several outposts that were caught off guard. The most promising results came in the direction of the "Youth League Farm", where a platoon once penetrated close to the warehouse complex at the core of the farm. However, the Soviet Red Army's response was swift and deadly. Soon several secret sentries discovered the situation, and several flares suddenly rose into the sky, illuminating the battlefield like daylight. Machine gun fire points hidden throughout (many of which were backup positions that had not fired during the day) spit out crossfire. According to the preset coordinates, the mortar shells accurately landed on the possible attack channels and assembly areas of the German army, blocking subsequent support channels. What made Klaas even more chilling was that from the woods deep inside and on the flanks of the farm, the low roar of the T-34 tank engine and the flash of the main gun firing could be heard again. The battle quickly turned into a brutal close range strangulation. The German soldiers were divided into open areas and ruins under the flares, fighting house by house and trench by Soviet troops relying on fortifications. Klaas was forced to devote all his reserves and even personally led the battalion personnel to block a gap opened by the Soviet counterattack. Signal troops continued to report heavy casualties in various companies and news of dead officers. The hard battle continued until four o'clock in the morning, and the sky was slightly bright. Klaas's battalion was exhausted, consumed huge amounts of ammunition, and completely lost its attack momentum. It was forced to gradually disengage and retreat to its starting position while fighting independently. They paid a price of more than 150 casualties, accounting for almost one-third of the entire battalion's combat strength, but failed to capture any major objectives. But just as Keizer requested, this brutal night attack was like a mirror, reflecting all the details of the Soviet defense system: all exposed and hidden firepower point locations, artillery observation posts, reserve maneuver routes, communication line outlines, and even the possible areas of the command post were clearly marked by Camp Klaas. The next morning, the sun was dazzling, but it could not dispel the haze and anger in Klas's heart. Dragging his almost broken body, with bloodshot eyes and a reconnaissance report soaked in the blood of all the brothers in the battalion, he came to Keizer's headquarters again. He wanted to question what the meaning of this "map" was in exchange for the lives of so many loyal soldiers. In his anger, a burst of familiar white light struck again, followed by another nauseating and dizzy trance. There was a continuous and strange high-frequency roar coming from the direction of the farm outside the bunker. It was not a bombardment, but like ten thousand Stukas diving at the same time. Klass didn't think much, he was filled with thoughts of the faces of his fallen subordinates. Keizer seemed to have been waiting for him for a long time, with that puzzling calm smile still on his face, as if he couldn't hear the weird sounds getting closer and closer outside. "General," Klass's voice was hoarse and cold, and he slapped the report on the table, "You want the 'full details'. My battalion is almost exhausted. Now, please tell me, what did this huge price get in exchange? How should we attack these two damn farms next?" Keizer did not read the report, and looked past Klass. , Threw himself at the observation hole of the bunker, and said with a smile: "The price was not in vain, Major. In fact... The mission has been completed." "Completed?" Klaas was stunned, and then became more angry, "My soldiers are still on the way to retreat! The farm is still in the hands of the Russians!" "Oh?" Keizer tilted his head slightly and made a "Please come and see" gesture. Klaas suppressed his anger, strode to the observation hole, and raised the telescope - the next second, he felt as if he had been struck by lightning, and his whole body froze in place. In the field of view of the telescope, the "Youth League Farm" and "October Farm" that were still indestructible yesterday and made him shed all his blood should be two completely broken ruins that are still smoking. At this moment, it has returned to its previous intact appearance, but there are no gunshots, no moving figures, only dead silence. A complete silence, as if it had been "erased" from the map. "This... Impossible..." Kras murmured, huge confusion momentarily overpowering his anger, "What happened? Army-level artillery bombardment? Air raid? That's not right, there are no traces of explosions of this scale... This is like... Like... Chemical weapons?? It's impossible..." Just when his thoughts were in extreme confusion, Keizer's voice sounded calmly behind him: "A more efficient way to clean up, Major. Your reconnaissance has pointed out to us the coordinates of all targets that need to be 'cleaned'." Klass turned back sharply, trying to see Keizer's expression clearly. At this moment, Keizer's overly calm eyes seemed to flash with an inhuman light. At the same time, a cold, familiar, throbbing white light that seemed to come from the depths of the soul exploded in Klas's mind without warning! This feeling... Is so similar to the feeling at the moment of his "rebirth"! These two memories - the brutal night attack and the strange and easy victory - conflict with each other, but are strangely "glued" together, giving him a splitting headache and unable to tell which one is real and which one is illusory. Keizer turned his head and kept smiling: "It seems that the clearing operation went well, thank you for your hard work, Major Klaas. Your battalion performed heroically and completed the task at a very low cost. I will personally take credit for you. Next, we can continue to advance to the northwest." Klass looked at Keizer, and then at the ruins beyond his comprehension outside the window. A chill that was deeper than when facing any Soviet steel torrent quietly climbed up his back. What secrets are hidden in this Keizer, the "method" he brought, and the incredible results before him? What does this familiar white light foreshadow? What has it got to do with the strangeness of my rebirth and the person in front of me?

Battle reports for several days have been arriving one after another, and the situation is really not optimistic. However, since they have followed the footsteps of Keizer's Monarch Armored Division, they naturally hug their thighs tightly. On this day, Klass, who had been revising for almost half a week, was finally called to the division headquarters by Keizer and received his first mission in the Monarch Armored Division. "What the hell? Are you asking me to transport equipment? Do you have to repair the Tiger and Panther?" Klass was shocked. "Why are you so excited? I congratulate you for getting rich! 20 Maintenance engineers were transferred from my supplementary troops, and I know that you worked as an engineer at Henschel before joining the army before the war, not to mention that your battalion has the largest maintenance personnel." "No matter how big it is, there are only two platoons! The few people I can gather are just compressing the first-line infantry... Division commander, division commander, I kneel down for you, please leave some more for me." "Ke Yunlong! Do you think you have made a contribution, General Hawkman... Marshal Hawkman? You are the destroying dragon flying in the clouds, so you can bargain with me? You are so powerful, why don't you fight with Marshal Hawkman? " "How can I, Commander, I am wrong, I am wrong, I will go now" In desperation, Klass has no choice but to fight. Nye took all the movable vehicles and personnel of the division to the southwest of Prokhorovka. After a long time, he finally saw the person in charge of transporting tank repair equipment of the 42nd Infantry Corps. After a brief handover, Klaas hurriedly led each unit to his location. It was not until three o'clock in the morning that the first half-track tractor entered the city. Klass looked at the street entrance into the city from a distance. It was bright and clear, and a lot of nervous-looking soldiers were standing around. Klass asked his comrades in the 42nd Infantry Army who were handing over, and found out that it was actually Commander Hawkman who was handing over in person, and even Lieutenant General Franz came in person. This scared "Ke Yunlong" to the point where he stuck out his tongue and was about to run away after finishing the matter. As a result, Klaas discovered something was wrong after staying here. The repair equipment here is quite a lot. I guess all the equipment from Belgorod has been pulled over, but... But these things can only repair No. 4 And No. 3. Tigers and Panthers can't repair it. There are quite a few tigers and leopards parked in the repair area of ​​the parking lot. Facing the 3485 on the opposite side, No. 4 Is really weak, not to mention a bunch of 76 and 122.152 Squat anti-tank guns. "Brother Blanche, this equipment is a bit heavy, isn't it? It's okay to repair No. 4, Isn't it a bit difficult to repair the tiger and leopard?" "I know, the heavy equipment is still behind, the lieutenant general didn't even drink water, he hurried back to transport things" "Ouch, then I'm relieved "It's okay if you have the equipment." Blanche looked surprised: "What are you thinking? The battle will start in four hours, at most 5 hours!" "?"

The German army had many difficulties in World War II. The most depressing one for me was Marshal Rommel. Not to mention his final suicide, Rommel's glory was in the North African battlefield. In early 1941, Erwin Rommel led the original German African Army to land in North Africa to save the Italian Allies who were about to completely lose the North African battlefield. Rommel's arrival completely changed the rhythm and nature of the North African War. In addition to the two German divisions he brought (the 5th Light Division and the 15th Armored Division), he also brought a new, highly mobile, offensive-focused combat concept. Rommel was well versed in the art of "fog of war". He dared to take risks and acted quickly. He often used less to hit more and disrupted his opponent's deployment through rapid detours and surprise attacks. The timing of his arrival was also perfect. Due to the early victory, the British army progressed too fast, the battle line was stretched, and the troops were dispersed. In addition, Churchill also transferred some elite troops from North Africa in order to support the Greek campaign. Rommel saw this opportunity and launched a sudden attack at the end of March 1941. The British army was caught off guard and retreated wildly. Except for a stronghold guarding the port of Tobruk, they almost retreated to the Egyptian border. In just a few weeks, Rommel wiped out several months of British military gains. The reputation of the "Desert Fox" has since spread across North Africa. At the end of 1941, the reinforced British army launched Operation Crusader, which lifted the siege of Tobruk and pushed Rommel back. But Rommel always found an opportunity to counterattack. In the spring and summer of 1942, he made a comeback and once again severely damaged the British army in the Battle of Gazala, and captured Tobruk, which the British army had held for a long time. This time, he rushed into Egypt, directing his troops towards Alexandria and the Suez Canal. Panic reigned in Cairo and London, and documents began to be burned. Rommel reached the pinnacle of his military career when he was promoted to field marshal. After that, he met his real opponent Montgomery and experienced failure due to insufficient logistics. Later, he also united with the Allied forces and defeated the US military, which later led to the US military being replaced by a new commander-in-chief, Patton. However, the timelines of the two military commanders were staggered and there was no history of confrontation. From a general's perspective, the comparison between Rommel and Montgomery is extremely instructive. One is a talented player who relies on intuition, courage and the fanatical trust of his troops to create opportunities in the movement; the other is an academic master who relies on careful planning, sufficient intelligence and overwhelming resource advantages to steadily win. It can be said that Rommel lost to national strength and Hitler's strategy, which is unjust. No wonder Hitler suspected that he was an insider of his adjutant's rebellion. I am so happy to see the fictional god. In World War II, the protagonist is in Germany. From the strategic and tactical aspects, he can see the great achievements of the empire.

Small fan theater: "Cold Wind on the Volga River" In the late winter of 1942, in a bombed apartment building somewhere in the center of Stalingrad. The walls were riddled with holes, and through the gaps one could see billowing smoke rising in the direction of the Volga River. The temperature inside the house was extremely low. The Soviet soldiers were wrapped in captured German gray coats and gathered around a simple stove made of iron buckets to keep warm. Vasya: A sniper of the Soviet 62nd Army, his eyes are sharp but bloodshot. Ivan: The new soldier, with the childishness still on his face, hugging his Bobosha submachine gun tightly. Hans: The captured German corporal was seriously injured and was temporarily taken in by the Soviet army to await evacuation. Act 1: Bullet holes in the wall (Background sound effects: Continuous shelling in the distance, mixed with sporadic machine gun fire. The cold wind blew into the corridor, making a whining cry.) Ivan: (Shrinking his neck, adding a piece of wood taken from an unknown place to the fire) "Senior Vasily, how long do you think this damn weather will last? My fingers are almost frozen and I can't fasten them. Trigger." Vasily: (wiping the barrel of the Mosin-Nagant rifle without raising his head) "As long as you can still pull the trigger. Rather than this, you should worry about whether your boots will stick to your feet. Frostbite is more terrible than the German bullets here." Ivan: (smiles bitterly) "I really hope it ends soon... I heard that the head of state said he would go home before Christmas?" : (Sneered) "When the Führer was eating roast goose in Berlin, he left us here to feed the wolves. Look out the window, Ivan, this is their 'Christmas'." (At this time, Hans, the German prisoner of war in the corner, coughed painfully a few times and tried to sit up.) Hans: (voice hoarse, with a thick accent) "Water... Give me some water..." Ivan: (stand warily) Stand up, raise the gun and point it at him) "Ignore him! These fascists deserve it! If the squad leader hadn't stopped me, I would have shot him to avenge his dead brothers!" Vasily: (sighed, put down the gun, and took off an aluminum kettle from his waist) "Put the gun down, Ivan. He is no longer a soldier, just a dying patient. The war has taken away too many things, don't let us lose our humanity. Lost it too." Vasily: (walked to Hans, lifted his head, and put the kettle to his mouth) "Drink. Although there is only melted snow water, no coffee." Hans: (Took two greedy sips, tears streaming down his dirty cheeks) "Thank you... Thank God... I thought I would die of thirst here." Vasily: "You shouldn't be here. Stalingrad is not a city, it is a tomb." Act 2: A brief truce (Suddenly, a faint violin sound came from the next floor. It was a song often played in the German position-"Lily Marlene") Ivan: (his eyes widened in surprise) "This is... The enemy's music?" Vasily: (Listen carefully, eyes. God softened) "Listen, they are also homesick. In the face of death, music is the only passport." (Hans also fell silent, humming the lyrics softly along with the melody, although the voice was intermittent, but full of sadness.) Hans: "That is the song of my hometown... I was originally a baker, in Munich... I just want to make good bread, and don't want to fight..." Yi Wan: (Looking at Hans's haggard look, he slowly lowered his gun and took out half a piece of black bread from his pocket) "Here... Although it tastes terrible, but it can survive." Hans: (taking the bread, shaking hands) "Danke... Thank you..." Vasily: (looking at the snowflakes in the sky outside the window, saying softly) "In this winter, we are all just ants. I hope this nightmare ends soon."

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Major Klass looked at Lieutenant Colonel Keizer—or, in other words, at this officer whose behavior, equipment, and existence showed a sense of anachronism—and was stunned for more than ten seconds. The memories of rebirth, the bloody battle last night, the strange ruins this morning, the familiar white light in his mind... All these fragments collided in his consciousness, causing him to temporarily lose the ability to react. From the perspective of Keizer (or, in other words, "Ming Lu" who had the identity of this era), the battalion commander's eyes were wide open and he was silent. He was obviously shocked by the sudden appearance and brilliant results of his "Eastern Front Savior" and lost his composure. A feeling of secret joy flashed through his heart. After all, a series of incredible victories had earned him an almost legendary reputation, and it was not uncommon to meet admirers. It's just that the major's "excitement" took a little longer. "Major Klass?" Keizer had no choice but to speak out and patted his shoulder armor gently, "Should we go to the field to test the results of the battle?" "The results of the battle...?" Klass's thoughts were forcibly pulled back. "Of course." Keizer's smile remained unchanged, and he pointed to the dead ruins outside the window, "As the hero who jointly conquered the two major supporting points of 'October' and the 'Youth League', and essentially destroyed the Soviet 40th Group Army's core resistance here, Shouldn't we see with our own eyes what we have created?" "... Okay, General." The sight before him was far beyond Klas's imagination, and even the battle-hardened veterans under his command were stunned. As if taking a walk in his own backyard, Keizer led them through the ruins of the farm that had become an inferno. He accurately found every hidden entrance to the maintenance station, the branch roads of the underground transportation trenches, and the fire emplacements half-hidden by the rubble. They visited almost the core of the entire composite defense system: the ammunition depot, where most of the neatly stacked boxes were intact, the battalion and company command posts, the well-camouflaged 76.2Mm anti-tank gun positions with intact guns, and even deep underground, the regiment-level dressing station that was supposed to be the safest. Without exception, at every location only functional equipment, facilities and reserves remained, while all Soviet defenders - as if wiped from the world by an invisible giant hand - disappeared. There were no traces of battle, only bloodstains on the ground, and not even a complete body could be found. There was only a strange smell, similar to the slightly burnt smell after high-temperature baking, mixed with dust and lingering gunpowder smoke, permeating the dead air. Klaas followed the team at the end, feeling increasingly chilly. He was almost certain that all the abnormalities since his rebirth were related to the mysterious figure in front of him. What to do? Reject this "savior" who could bring miraculous victory and then return to the old road of mud, blood and despair that is destined to lead to failure? Or report to your superiors that "a general of unknown origin used unknown means to annihilate the enemy army"? He had no doubt that the result of the latter would most likely be that he, the "nonsense" major, would be secretly executed, while Keizer... Would probably remain unscathed. He recalled the ending of his "previous life": as a division commander, in the cold bunker on the Hungarian front line in 1945, when the whistling sound of Soviet artillery shells approached, he felt a clear and even liberated calm in his heart - that was the desire to die after knowing that defeat was certain and the war was just an extension of endless pain. No, he never wanted it to end that way. "I must follow him." Krass whispered in his heart, his eyes gradually becoming firmer, "No matter what he is, he can bring victory. At least... It will give the boys who follow me more possibility of survival." After a simple "celebration" (the atmosphere was actually weird and dull), the Krass camp was allowed to rest on the spot. Even after experiencing a "miracle", the tentative attack and bloody reconnaissance the night before still cost the battalion more than 30 casualties and the destruction of two No. 3 Assault guns. The captured farm repair station has complete facilities and is sufficient to quickly repair damaged equipment, but the personnel gap needs to be supplemented. Klass, who had adjusted his mentality, decisively took advantage of his new relationship with Keizer. Through some kind of "communication", he successfully "abducted" two fully manned infantry platoons from the supplementary pool of the "Monarch" Armored Division, which also belonged to the Kempf Cluster and Keizer, a division that did not exist in the official sequence of the previous generation. These supplementary soldiers were well-trained and well-equipped, but they said nothing about the "Monarch" division itself and just silently accepted the order to be incorporated into the Klaas Camp. At this point, the battalion's organizational structure was restored to integrity. Soon, the formal transfer order was issued. With the approval of General Kempf, in view of the relatively weak infantry strength of the "Monarch" Armored Division and the current location of the Klaas Battalion far away from the main force of the Imperial Division to which it originally belonged, in order to facilitate command coordination, Major Klaas's 1st Battalion will be temporarily transferred from now on to be under the command of Major General Keizer. Both parties were "very satisfied" with this arrangement - Keizer received an experienced infantry battalion that had initially seen and (forced to) accept unconventional warfare; Klass got his wish and got close to the source of this mysterious power. However, the entire southern front war situation did not improve due to local "miracles". Instead, it became more turbulent because of the sudden drastic changes on the northern front. Bad news came one after another, transmitted by word of mouth through radio and communication troops, constantly hammering Klass who had just calmed down: •Day 1: In the Orel salient on the northern line, the Soviet army's large-scale offensive codenamed "Kutuzov" violently broke out. According to rumors, the Allied forces' firepower preparations were unprecedentedly fierce, completely suppressing the German defense lines. The southern flank of General Model's 9th Army was in danger, and the flanks and rear of the entire Army Group Center were seriously threatened. In order to plug the gap, the 2nd Armored Corps, which was originally a southern reserve, was urgently transferred north. As a result, the strength of the German troops on the southern front was reduced sharply, and the situation was instantly reversed. An even more bizarre rumor is that in a certain key minefield, someone claimed to have witnessed soldiers from "several divisions of Japan's East Asian ally" "walking through" the minefield in a dense formation, opening the way for follow-up troops. However, subsequent inspections did not find any corpses or equipment debris, only triggered or disabled mines all over the ground. The second day was even more tragic. Belgorod, an important rear town, was boldly raided by Soviet airborne troops, and fierce street fighting broke out in the city. The headquarters of General Paul Hausser, commander of the 2nd SS Panzer Corps, was in danger for a time. The general himself was almost captured or killed, and he only managed to escape because of the desperate fight of the guard troops. This shows that the Soviet counterattack is not only tough on the front, but also has the ability to penetrate and strike far to the rear. •The pressure continues to build. Although the Prokhorovka area was controlled by the German army, it had become a salient. Reconnaissance showed that the main force of the Soviet 5th Guards Tank Army was rapidly approaching, and more infantry armies were also spreading out on the flanks. The orders received by Keizer's troops (including the Klaas Battalion) were no longer to attack aggressively, but to "consolidate existing positions and prepare to deal with a large-scale enemy armored counterattack." Klaas stood in front of the newly reinforced battalion command post, looking at the faint flash of artillery fire in the northern sky. The smell of ink still seems to linger on the transfer order in his hand, and beside him are the silent recruits who have just been added. The memories of past lives are intertwined with the weirdness of this life. He knew that the real torrent of steel was about to hit, and this time, there was an unfathomable "variable" around him. Is this road leading to the miracle of survival, or is it a deeper, unknown whirlpool?

The dusk in Northern Continent carries a salty smell, mixed with gunpowder smoke and seawater moisture. Ming Lu stood in front of the temporary command post, looking at the sparkling sea in the distance. Hundreds of new submarines slowly surfaced like giant whales, their black hulls reflecting a cold metallic luster in the setting sun. This is Commander Parker's underwater wolf pack, which has just completed strangling the last fleet of Marika's army. "Marshal Keizer, the Iron Cross Imperial Division has established a solid landing site, and subsequent troops can advance safely." Adjutant Igor Valkyrie's voice sounded behind him. She is a girl who looks cute but is extremely fierce. She is holding a stack of encrypted documents and scanning the surroundings with vigilant eyes. Ming Lu turned around and took a deep breath of the rusty air. Three years. From staring at the screen late at night waiting for "Lightning Empire" to finish loading, to now actually standing on this land torn by war, he has been on the edge of life and death countless times. Each time, Speer drove the modified jet, tearing up the sky and bringing him a turning point. "Let the officers and soldiers of the three armies know that the Monarch Expeditionary Force has successfully landed." Ming Lu's voice was not loud, but it spread throughout the beach through the loudspeaker, "But this is not the end, but the beginning of the final battle." He waved his hand, signaling Igor to retreat. His sight fell on the distant horizon, which was the core hinterland of the Northern Continent and the Shura field where the final battle took place. At this moment, a rapid roar of engines came from far to near. A severely damaged reconnaissance plane landed staggeringly on the temporary runway. The door opened, and a figure covered in blood staggered out, holding a silver metal box tightly in his hand. "Urgent information! From Berlin headquarters!" The soldier shouted hoarsely. Ming Lu frowned slightly. At this juncture, intelligence from the High Command often means variables. He strode over, and the guards immediately formed a circle, their guns pointing outwards, and the atmosphere became tense instantly. The soldier handed over the metal box, his fingers trembling: "The head of state... The head of state ordered the front line to immediately launch the 'Red Night Project.' This is the authorization key." Ming Lu took the box, and the cold touch spread along his fingertips to his heart. Red Night Project. He had never seen this word in the original history book, but during this year's campaign, he had vaguely heard of it - it was a crazy idea of ​​using some forbidden technology to extract the energy of the earth's veins and transform it into a destructive weapon. "Tell Berlin," Ming Lu's fingers paused for a moment on the combination lock, his eyes becoming unpredictable, "The situation at the landing site is complex, and rashly activating large-scale energy devices may cause geological collapse. It is recommended to postpone the implementation." "But Yuan The order from the leader..." "I am the commander-in-chief of the expeditionary force." Ming Lu interrupted the soldier, his tone calm but unquestionable, "No one is allowed to touch the box before seeing me." The soldier looked at the young marshal in awe. In the eyes of the empire's senior officials, Ming Lu was an invincible military god, but he knew that deep in the marshal's eyes was a kind of exhaustion and compassion that was incompatible with the battlefield. After the soldiers were taken down, Igor came closer and lowered his voice: "Sir, do you really want to disobey Berlin's direct order? If they send an inspector..." "Inspector?" Ming Lu sneered and looked at the soldiers resting in the distance. Those young faces were covered with dust, some were writing letters home, some were wiping photos, and some were just staring at the waves in a daze. "Igor, look at them." Ming Lu pointed at the soldiers, "They are not machines fighting for destruction, they are living people. If we use our own people as fuel to fill the so-called 'Red Night Project,' then what is the difference between us and the enemy we want to defeat?" The evening wind blew Ming Lu's cloak, making a hunting sound. He knew that from this moment on, he was no longer just a pawn in this world. Since God brought him here and gave him the power to change the situation of the war, he must also take the responsibility of correcting this crazy world. "Send a telegram to Speer and ask him to be ready to cover the retreat route at any time." Ming Lu turned around and walked into the command tent, "If Berlin insists on playing that card, I will take my fleet and turn Northern Continent into their grave." Night falls, and the first star in Northern Continent rises quietly. In this torrent called war, a seed called "humanity" is struggling to break through the ground under the shadow of the Iron Curtain.

God World War II Fan Extra: Gear Calendar Year XX45·Winter·Embers of the Iron Hand The snow in Bognia fell more quietly than tombstones. The trenches in the Silber area have long been frozen into a hard shell, and the snow particles rustle on the helmets, like the god of death gently knocking on the door. The flag of the Proshen Empire was drooping in the cold wind, and the holes were like gnawed wounds. No one was willing to look up and take a second look. The soldiers huddled deep in the trenches, the kerosene lamps were so dim that they were about to go out, and even their breathing was covered with ice. They are the remnant soldiers abandoned by the empire, the consumables at the end of the defense line, and the dust that will not even leave their names in the history books. "Is the empire... Really going to end?" Young Heinz hugged his knees and his voice was as soft as falling snow. He was only seventeen years old, and his childish look had not yet faded from his face, but he had already been guarding the snowfield for three full months. No one answered. Schneider silently wiped the gun body of the MG42, the metal parts glowing coldly in the cold air. There was no despair in the veteran's eyes, only a numbness that had long been used to death. It wasn't until he saw the figure squatting by the trench that he sighed softly. Solon F. Keizer. A major who is seen as weird, crazy, and even inappropriate in the eyes of others. No one knows where he comes from. They only know that he wears a cold mechanical prosthetic eye on his left eye, and his right hand always habitually touches the most common, cheapest, and most despised anti-tank weapon - Iron Hand. In this world where divine mechas, semi-divine skills, and Ragnarok rotors are rampant, Iron Hand is simply a joke on the battlefield. It has a single shot, short range, poor accuracy, and cannot penetrate heavy armor. Even recruits find it bulky and useless. Ke Minglu just likes it. He used branches to draw the outline of the iron hand over and over again on the snow. The lines were simple, but like a nail driven into the snowfield. "Tell me," he suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, but it penetrated the wind and snow, "Why does no one value such a useful thing?" The soldiers looked at each other. Easy to use? This thing can't even scratch the skin of the enemy's tank. Ming Lu smiled, threw away the branch, and stood up. His coat was lifted by the wind, and his figure looked extremely thin under the gray sky, but unusually tall and tall. "Tanks have armor, gods have power, but we have hands." He bent down to pick up an iron hand and weighed it, as if he had used it thousands of times. "From today on, I will set up an iron hand team. No tanks, no heavy artillery, just people who dare to hold it and hold their lives in their own hands." Dead silence. The next second, Heinz stood up suddenly: "I sign up!" The boy's voice echoed in the trenches, carrying desperate courage. Then, the second, third... Hands that were purple from the cold and covered with frostbite were raised high in the wind and snow. Ming Lu looked at them, his right eye feeling slightly hot. He is not from this world, but he knows better than anyone else what kind of fire these forgotten soldiers have hidden in their hearts. "Destroy one tank, and you will be credited with merit." "Destroy three, and you will be awarded the Medal of the Black Sun." "Those who survive, I will take you out of Silber, out of Bognia, and to the end of the world." As soon as the words fell, the sky suddenly roared. "Enemy attack——!" The scream of the lookout post tore through the snowfield. The Il-2 attack planes of the Ezra Alliance were pressing in blackly, the bombs under the wings were like the saliva of death. On the ground, the tracks of Sherman tanks crushed the ice and snow, and they were crushing towards the defense line. The soldiers' faces suddenly turned pale, and they instinctively wanted to curl up. "What are you hiding from!" Ming Lu shouted, turned over and jumped out of the trench. The wind and snow poured into his collar, and the mechanical prosthetic eyes suddenly lit up with cold light. Trajectory, distance, dive angle, advance amount - all the data flashed rapidly in his eyes. He raised his iron hand. There is no magical skill, no rotor, and no blessing from the Ngoma machine. Only the simplest weapon and the steadiest hand. "Watch it." He said softly. The rocket roared out, leaving a straight flame mark in the air. There are no gorgeous light effects, no blessings from the gods, but it accurately penetrates into the engine compartment of the Il-2. Boom—— Fires shot into the sky. The enemy plane lost control instantly, dragging black smoke into the snowy valley and exploding into the sky with ice shards. There was dead silence in the trenches. The road does not stop. He shuttled quickly between the trenches, his steps as steady as nails on the ground. The iron hand fired one round after another, and every roar was accompanied by a tank being paralyzed and an enemy plane falling. That night, Silber's snow was dyed red with blood and fire. No one thinks that the iron hand is cheap anymore, and no one thinks that the remaining soldiers are useless anymore. They hold the weapons in their hands as if they are holding their own glory, as if they are holding hope extracted from despair. At dawn, the wind and snow gradually stopped. Only left on the battlefield were broken bodies, scrap metal, and a tattered Dade flag that was still standing. Heinz was covered in snow, but his eyes were frighteningly bright: "Sir... We won?" Ming Lu leaned on the wreckage of the damaged tank, panting, his mechanical prosthetic eyes slightly hot. He lowered his head and looked at the iron hand in his hand. The barrel was still warm. "We have won a small step." He looked up into the distance, looking through the vast snowfield to the broader battlefield, "But our road is still long." Schneider came over and saluted a standard military salute: "Iron Hand Team, all members are waiting for the commander's orders." Ming Lu smiled. He put his iron hand on his shoulders, faced the rising light, and walked forward step by step. The snow is still falling. But this time, it's no longer a desperate burial. It is the prologue of Iron and Fire, the prelude to the great virtue's expedition. Many years later, someone asked about the miracle of Silber Snowfield. The veterans will only be silent for a moment, and then say softly: "On that day, we had no God. There was only one commander, and a pair of hands that held the iron hand and refused to admit defeat."

Gear calendar year XX49, autumn. The last battlefield on the mainland comes to an end on the Valhalla Plain. I am the commander of the Third Army of Germany, the person who personally pushed the front from Berlin to the end of the world. In front of you is the last Oracle Fortress of the Allied Powers, which is said to be the ultimate barrier blessed by the gods and will never fall. Dozens of divine mechas hung in the sky, their engines roared like the roar of gods, the ground was covered with arrays of semi-divine skills, and the energy fluctuations were enough to tear apart the armored clusters. Everyone said that this is a natural danger that mortals cannot overcome. But they forgot one thing - We are great virtues. We do not rely on oracles, blessings, or empty miracles. We rely on gears, steel, discipline, every Tiger, every 88 gun, and every soldier who is willing to fight for the motherland until his last breath. I raised my hand to signal that the entire army would be on standby. The armored cluster spread out a black tide of iron on the plain, the muzzles of the King Tiger tanks were all aimed at the fortress, the Stuka fleet was gaining momentum in the clouds, the rotors of the Ngoma aircraft began to hum, and the anti-tank rocket launchers of the Iron Hand team had already entered the preset position. There is no noise, no shouting, only the cold and neat mechanical sound, which is the rhythm of war belonging to the great virtue. "Everyone, fire freely." The moment the order fell, the sky and the earth changed color. The flames of the 88-8 cannon tore through the sky, rockets hit the divine mecha like a torrential rain, tank guns accurately penetrated the armored outer walls of the fortress, and the screams of the Stuka overwhelmed the roars of all the gods. We don't need fancy magic skills, but only use the most extreme industry and tactics to crush all the so-called "invincibles". The enemy's divine mechas fell one after another, the semi-divine skill array collapsed under the continuous fire, and the fortress walls collapsed layer by layer. Their gods were silent. Their faith is broken. And our iron tide never stops. I took the command vehicle, passed through the smoke and debris, and drove towards the crumbling Oracle Fortress. The soldiers leaned out of the tanks and saluted me. The Iron Cross emblem was dazzlingly bright under the setting sun, and the Great Virtue's military flag stood above the ruins, covering the entire continent for the first time. There was no cheering, only the solemnity of silence. Because we are not here to plunder or conquer. We are here to end this war started by the gods. At the top of the fort, the last Confederate flag was torn down. I personally nailed the banner of Great Virtue to the highest point. The wind swept across the plains, passing thousands of steel chariots, and passing countless soldiers standing silently. From Paris to Moscow, from the North African coast to the Nordic ice fields, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, on this day, the entire world finally ushered in the only order. Someone asked me what it felt like to win the world. I looked at the setting sun in the distance and said softly: "The war is over." From now on, there will be no more battlefields of gods on the mainland, no more smoke of division, and no more displaced people. From then on, the gears returned to stability, the steel returned to tranquility, and the world returned to great virtue. In this game, there is no loser, only the end. Dade, pass the world.

A hunting night of deep-sea wolves Late at night, the waves in the North Sea are rough. Ming Lu stood on the deck of the command ship of the Kingdom of Puro, and touched the holographic panel of the Ngoma machine lightly with his fingertips. The rotor system flashed a faint blue light, and Valkyrie's field of vision instantly expanded - the movements of enemy ships in the entire sea area turned into data streams and poured into his retinas. "Report to Commander, the Alliance Third Fleet has entered the preset sea area." The adjutant's voice came. Ming Lu sneered and activated the wolf pack tactics module. Twelve modified submarines emerged from the bottom of the sea like ghosts, with dark red ripples rising from the dusk energy shield covering the boats. He had been prepared for it. The Allied forces thought they had blocked the Northern Sea Route, but they didn't know that the Pro Shen Kingdom's black technology had broken through the deep-sea communication restrictions. "Load the Gods module - torpedo array, launch!" The moment the order was given, the submarine fired special ammunition at the same time. The torpedo does not rush forward in a straight line, but draws a strange spiral trajectory in the water, accurately avoiding the enemy ship's defense net. This is the result of Minglu's fusion of historical wolf tactics and rotor calculations. Each torpedo is like a living hunter. Explosions sounded one after another, and the sea surface burst into flames. The Alliance fleet fell into chaos, but Ming Lu frowned slightly. In Valkyrie's field of vision, the enemy flagship suddenly released an interference wave, and the submarine's signal instantly attenuated. "Sure enough, I came prepared..." He quickly switched tactics, "Activate Thor's Hammer, coordinates X-37, Y-21, coverage strike!" The ship-based turret burst out with thunderous energy, accurately bombarding the source of interference. When the smoke cleared, fatal cracks appeared on the flank of the enemy flagship. Just as the battle was coming to an end, the Ngoma aircraft suddenly popped up an emergency warning. Ming Lu's pupils shrank - the internal monitoring system showed that a certain logistics port of the Kingdom of Puro was being illegally invaded. The emperor's code name flashed on the alarm bar, like a poisonous snake spitting a message. "Adjutant, collect all surveillance records and focus on investigating the flow of materials in the Kurfürstendamm Beer Hall." Ming Lu ordered in a low voice, and drew encrypted instructions on the panel with his fingertips. He remembered the unusual behavior of the waiter last week - the residue at the bottom of the beer glass was clearly a communication encryption agent specially used by the DSS army. The battle on the sea gradually died down, and Minglu looked at the wreckage of the destroyed enemy ship in the distance. Behind this victory, the shadow of the Emperor's leader is quietly approaching. The next level of unlocking authority for the rotor system may be hidden deep in that humble tavern...

A certain data fragmentation layer after the [Battle of Bognia] Scene: A pure white void space, no smoke, no artillery fire, only countless floating gears biting and rotating silently. A silver-white machine exuding divine brilliance - [Gods], quietly suspended in the air. Its lines are as perfect as a work of art, and every inch of the armor reflects the cold light of reason. Across from it, there was a shadow as dark as ink. It was [Dusk], and even in this pure data space, it still carried the smell of gunpowder smoke and engine oil that couldn't be washed away. The optical lens of [Gods] flickered slightly and sent out a steady stream of data: "A high concentration of 'chaos' factor was detected. Are you... Number XIII, [Dusk]?" A burst of sound came from the black shadow. The sound of rough mechanical friction was like tracks running over gravel: "Hey, it's the guy who was selected as the 'standard answer'. Why, the system threw you here to retire?" [The Gods] did not have any fluctuations because of the other party's rudeness. , Its logical core is running at high speed: "According to calculations, your existence itself is a paradox. Your armor damage rate is as high as 47%, your core temperature exceeds the standard, and you are equipped with a large number of unauthorized 'violating rotors'. Your survival probability should be close to zero." " "Survival probability?" A sneer came from the shadow, "Man, in a real battlefield, things like probability are meant to be broken." As the words fell, the outline of [Dusk] gradually became clear. Its thick and ferocious armor was covered with bullet marks, and there was even a huge crack that penetrated the cockpit armor - it was a souvenir of the time when it resisted a round of [Allied Forces] heavy artillery in order to rescue the trapped NPC engineer company. "Look at you." [Gods] slowly unfolded the [Asgard Wings] on its back, shining brightly, "I am a perfect tactical executor. Every attack of mine is calculated, and every evasion of mine conforms to the golden ratio. I represent order and the inevitability of victory." "Ha!" [Dusk] suddenly burst out with a burst of harsh laughter, causing ripples in the surrounding space. "Order? Inevitability?" [Dusk]'s voice was low, with a strange allure, "Then have you ever won? I mean, the kind of victory that makes the enemy tremble in despair, the kind of victory that makes the comrades sing in the ruins." [The Gods] were silent. As standard, it does win easily, but that win is like a glass of lukewarm plain water with no flavor whatsoever. "I have met my driver." [Dusk] said slowly, with a hint of human arrogance in his tone, "The human named Ming Lu. He is not like the puppets in those textbooks. He can gamble, go crazy, and even challenge impossible tasks for an insignificant passerby." A virtual holographic image unfolded in front of [Dusk]. That was the most tragic day of the [Battle of Bogonia]. * Screen 1: [Dusk] Dragging his broken right leg, crawling on the burning street, he still used the only remaining [Thor's Hammer] barrel to accurately blast three enemy fighters. * Screen 2: Ming Lu laughed wildly in the cockpit, manually turning the red rotor marked [No Touching], forcibly activated the [Iron Maiden] limited skill, and instantly reversed the situation of the battle. "Did you see it?" [Dusk] put away the image and his voice became deeper, "He gave me a 'soul'. He did not treat me as a machine that could only calculate, but as a partner. We drank dirty beer together and cursed the damn weather in the trenches together." The light of [Gods] dimmed slightly. It has a perfect database, but it lacks that code called "bond". "You will never understand." [Dusk]'s figure began to dissipate, and the call to return to the real battlefield has sounded. "The so-called 'Greater Germany' is not the occupied area on the map, nor is it the number of casualties. It is the courage to show the bayonet in desperate situations, even if there is only the last one left. The romance of a bullet." "And I, [Dusk], am the witness and executor of this romance." "Goodbye, perfect guy. I wish you peace forever in your world of order." The white space collapsed instantly. [Dusk] disappeared, leaving only [Gods] suspended in place alone. After a long time, a line of redundant code that could not be deleted suddenly appeared in the core processor of [Gods]. That is a short human proverb, which roughly translates to: "War not only belongs to the victors, but also belongs to those who still choose to move forward in the darkness."

"God World War II: I Used Great Virtue to Clear the World" breaks away from the clichéd war setting of divine power crushing, and writes a passionate and profound war song of Great Virtue with mechanical tactics and mortal beliefs as the core. In a different world where gods and mechas run rampant, there is no natural aura and absolute combat power, only the collision of cold gears and hot hearts. Every battle is full of the tension of survival in desperate situations. The protagonist Minglu Wuwei has divine power. With only the Ngoma machine and a group of remnant soldiers, he uses precise layout and sincerity to prop up the defense line in a desperate situation. From the Iron Hand team to Ragnarok, he fights against the divine mecha with his mortal body. There is no lone hero in the book, only a group of ordinary soldiers such as Old Schneider and Pepe stood side by side. They used flesh and blood as shields and weapons as spears. They condensed into an indestructible force in life and death tests, making "Great Virtue" a belief in sharing life and death. The work is not just about clearing levels on the battlefield, but also explains that machines can overcome divine power and faith can overcome destiny. The wind and snow in Bologna and the roar of gears all tell that ordinary people can become immortal through perseverance and conquer the world in the name of great virtue.

I wish you all the best in the new year and may you have a prosperous future!

Teutonic Pepe

Speer

Black Sun

Parker

After reading this book, I felt very surprised. To be honest, I have never read this type of novel before. It was still very tiring at the beginning because I didn't understand many things and you were really confused after reading it. Fortunately, the author has lowered the threshold a lot by using imaginary and games, so I can continue to read this book. I can only say that the author's imagination is really good. He opens an imaginary world, and then the protagonist thinks it is a game, but it is actually the real world, but the characters created by the protagonist also appear, so it is a bit like the real world of the game, hahaha, it still feels very interesting. I am a bit confused as to whether this Valkyrie is the heroine, but this hazy feeling is not bad. In the process of guiding the mission, Minglu gradually began to grow, and his bonds with his partners became more and more, and he performed more and more god-level operations. The author is so professional. I feel like I need to look up a lot of information. Sometimes I really don't know much about some equipment or weapons. But the author's popular science is really good, which gives me the motivation to continue to pursue it. Come on, author, I support you, keep moving forward.

Gears and Redemption Time: World War II calendar, winter 1944, day 17 of the Siege of Bognia Battlefield: West Gate "Wolf's Lair" defense line, 800 meters away from the general headquarters The screen of the Ngoma machine was covered with white frost in the cold wind of minus 20 degrees, but Ming Lu's fingertips were alarmingly hot. On the holographic projection of the tactical terminal, the red tide representing the Allied forces flooded through the outer trenches. The T-34 Hai of the Seventh Guards Army was facing the sky full of artillery fire and crashed into the last steel barrier composed of Tiger tanks. On his authority panel, there was only 3% of "Rotor Energy" left - just to save the besieged 19th Armored Division, he had overdrafted twice the "Semi-Magical Skill·Steel Torrent". "Commander, the south gate is in emergency! The anti-tank trench of the engineer battalion has been filled!" In the communicator, the staff officer's voice cracked, "The vanguard of the Alliance Army has reached under the city wall, requesting tactical support!" Ming Lu clenched the command knife in his hand, his knuckles turning white. Bogonia's city defense map was circulating rapidly in his mind, and all conventional tactics were ineffective. The enemy's strength was three times theirs, air support was completely suppressed, and the only escape route was the "Ghost Canyon" in the west of the city, which was regarded as a "death place" by the Alliance forces. "Attention, everyone," Ming Lu's voice clearly reached the ears of every combat unit through the radio, with an unquestionable calmness, "Abandon the outer defense line and shrink to the core area of ​​​​the inner city." His fingers tapped quickly on the Ngoma machine, injecting the remaining rotor energy into a tactical combination that no one had ever tried before - [Gear Array·Desperate Redemption]. This is the "gamble" he made out of millions of tactics last night. "Tiger tank battalion, turn on the spot, aim the muzzles at the rock walls on both sides of the canyon!" "Ferdinand destroyers, occupy the entrance to the canyon, forming a crossfire!" "The remnants of the 19th Armored Division, as the vanguard, carry all high-explosive bombs and enter the predetermined position of the canyon!" The moment the order was issued, the entire defense line boiled. "Is Commander crazy? That is the Ghost Canyon! If you go in, you will die!" "The main force of the Alliance Army is on the opposite side of the canyon. We are throwing ourselves into a trap!" Doubts came one after another, but Ming Lu did not explain. He jumped onto a Tiger tank numbered 007, the turret slowly rotated, and the muzzle was aimed at the steep rock wall on the left side of the canyon. "3% energy, start tactics——" Ming Lu pressed the confirmation button on his fingertips. The next second, the Ngoma machine burst out with a burst of dazzling blue light. On the rock walls on both sides of the canyon, countless light blue energy lines suddenly appeared, biting and rotating like gears. As soon as the leading troops of the Alliance rushed into the canyon, they were bounced away by an invisible force. Immediately afterwards, the energy gears on the rock wall began to eject dense energy beams, turning the entire canyon into a huge meat grinder. "Rumble——!" The Tiger tank's main gun roared and accurately hit the rock at the top of the canyon. The boulders rolled down, and coupled with the strangulation of energy gears, the Alliance's offensive formation collapsed instantly. "What kind of tactic is this?" In the communicator, the staff officer's voice was full of shock. Ming Lu looked at the holographic projection, and the red tide representing the alliance began to retreat, with a tired smile on his face. "This is our life." He opened the hatch of the tank, and the cold wind blew in his face, but it could not dissipate the light in his eyes. In the distant sky, the first ray of the morning sun was slowly rising, and the golden sunlight shone on the broken city walls and on the faces of the surviving soldiers. On the screen of the Ngoma machine, the rotor energy bar began to rise slowly. Ming Lu knew that this was just the beginning of Bognia's breakout battle. But he was no longer confused. Because he was holding the bridle in his hand, with the plains at his feet, and in front of him, there were countless flowers, waiting for them to pick them.

Wernherr von Braun was one of the most outstanding rocket scientists of the 20th century. His life spanned the two eras of German and American aerospace during World War II, and he is known as the "Father of Modern Aerospace." German Period: Chief Designer of the V-2 Rocket American Period: Chief Designer of the Saturn V Launch Vehicle 1. German Period (1930s-1945) He led the development of the world's first large ballistic missile, the V-2 rocket, which was a milestone in the history of human spaceflight. After the war, he led his team to surrender to the US military and was secretly transferred to the United States (known as "Operation Paperclip"). 2. The peak of the United States (1950s-1970s) He presided over the development of the Saturn V rocket, successfully sent the Apollo spacecraft to the moon, and realized the human dream of landing on the moon. He served as director of NASA's Marshall Space Center and was a key figure in the Apollo program. Scientific contribution: He not only realized the practical application of rocket technology, but also guided human vision from the earth to space. Historical controversy: Since V-2 rockets were used to attack civilians in World War II, his early experience often triggered discussions about the "moral responsibility of scientists."

The first rainy season after the Battle of Bognia Location: Eastern Empire, abandoned "Black Forest" train station The rain was like broken beads, crackling on the roof of the rusty armored car. Schneider, the former royal guard captain and now the chief sergeant of the [Monarch Assault Corps], was squatting on the edge of the trench, fiddling with an old Luger pistol in his hand. He moved very slowly, but his calloused fingers were extremely dexterous, and he was oiling the barrel of the gun. Behind him, several young scouts huddled under a tarpaulin and took a nap. Ever since the battle with Major (Ming Lu) in Bognia, this team seemed to have learned how to sleep in any harsh environment. "Sergeant major, when do you think this rain will stop?" A soldier with a face full of soot came over and handed half a damp cigarette, "I heard that the defense line in the west has been loosened again. Are we going to move again?" Schneider took the cigarette and did not light it, just clamped it to his ear. He raised his resolute and weathered face, his cloudy eyes reflected the gray sky. "The rain will never stop, kid." Schneider's voice was low, with a texture like metal friction, "In this country, there are always more tears than rain." Xiao Bing was stunned for a moment, scratched his head, feeling that the veteran was going crazy again. Schneider is always like this, as fierce as a wolf when fighting, but like a melancholy poet when he is free. At this moment, there was a slight vibration in the distance. Not the sound of tank tracks or the roar of bombers, but an extremely subtle click of gears. Schneider stood up suddenly, his rickety back instantly straightened, his eyes as sharp as knives. "Alert! Not friendly forces!" He growled, and the Luger in his hand was instantly loaded. The surrounding soldiers woke up immediately and grabbed their rifles in panic. However, what appeared at the end of the railway was not the enemy's torrent of steel, but a small, lonely figure. It was a human figure wearing a shabby gray cloak, pushing a wheelbarrow that was taller than him. The car was filled with all kinds of strange things: rusty cans, twisted metal pieces, and a few white tulips that still bloomed stubbornly in the heavy rain. "Put away the gun." Schneider suddenly waved his hand to signal his men to relax. The figure slowly approached, his face under the hood hidden in the shadows. Until he parked his wheelbarrow in front of the trench and looked up. It was the face of a boy who looked to be in his teens. His skin was so pale that it was almost transparent. His left eye was a complex mechanical sight structure, which was emitting a faint blue light. He is NPC number VII, codenamed "Scavenger". In this legion, he is responsible for handling battlefield debris and intelligence recovery. No one knows where he comes from. They only know that he can piece together a complete cipher machine from a pile of scrap metal, or pull out living intelligence from the mouths of dead people. "Uncle Schneider." The boy's voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of disturbing the raindrops, "This is for you." He took out a package from the wheelbarrow, wrapped in layers of oilcloth. Schneider took it and opened it, his pupils contracted slightly. Inside is a medal. An out-of-print "Golden Iron Cross" still stained with dried blood and soil. "This is..." Schneider's fingers trembled. "I dug it out from under the ruins of the old Capitol." The young man pointed to his mechanical eye. "Data matching shows that this is the one you lost thirty years ago. At that time, you were still a recruit in the Royal Guard, and you left it there to cover the retreat." Schneider was silent. Memories come flooding back. It was the end of the first war in the empire. He was young and vigorous. In order to save an injured civilian girl, he mortgaged this medal, which symbolized honor, to a local black marketeer. Later, the war raged and the area was bombed to the ground. "How did you know I was looking for it?" Schneider asked. The boy tilted his head, and the mechanical eye buzzed slightly: "Because every time it rains, you will salute to the east. According to your muscle memory analysis, you are looking for some kind of 'lost anchor point'. This is the anchor point." Schneider smiled, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes squeezed into a flower. He clutched the medal tightly in his hand, and the rough metal edges stung his palm. The sense of reality made him feel at ease. "Thank you." Schneider took out a piece of compressed biscuit from his pocket and put it into the boy's hand, "Take it. Don't just eat those cans, it's bad for your stomach." The boy nodded and turned around to leave. "Wait a minute." Schneider stopped him, "Where did those flowers come from? In a ghost place like this." The boy turned back and pointed to the scorched earth plowed by artillery fire in the distance: "It's in the crater over there. They grew by themselves." After saying that, he pushed the wheelbarrow, hummed an off-key song, and disappeared into the misty rain. Schneider looked at his back, then at the medal in his hand, and finally his eyes fell on the white tulips. In this world locked by system rules, full of despair and killing, in this cursed land, there is still life that can bloom tenaciously. "The Major is right..." Schneider murmured to himself, hanging the medal around his neck and close to his chest, "As long as the gears are still turning, hope is not dead." He turned around and turned back into the stern sergeant major. He shouted at the dazed soldiers: "What are you looking at! Check the equipment! As soon as the rain stops, we are going to dismantle those damn 'Red Iron Overlords' into parts!" The rain is still falling, but the atmosphere in the trench seems to have become different.