Marshal Gollon's orders had not long been issued when outside became a complete mess.
"Damn, just how many troops have they dropped in?" Marshal mused as he paced back and forth inside the armored command vehicle.
The Deputy Officer looked very worried, "Marshal, the enemy is clearly after capturing or killing you. Why don't you get in a tank and let all the armored vehicles remaining here escort you to the new headquarters?
"The enemy's paratroopers only have two legs; they can't keep up with armored vehicles."
Marshal Gollon glanced at the Deputy Officer, "No, I will not flee from battle! Continue to call nearby troops over; we must eliminate all of the enemy paratroopers!"
"But if the enemy succeeds, then you'll be the second marshal to fall to Rocossov's hands," the Deputy Officer said with deep concern.
Marshal Gollon: "If things come to that, I will accept it fully. It's my fault for not having moved to the new headquarters earlier. This is the result of my carelessness."