The Arrival of the Queen

In Logan's impression, the mechanization level of the German military didn't seem to have reached an ideal standard. However, during the journey, all he saw were troops riding motorcycles, armored vehicles, and trucks. Apart from those setting up security checkpoints, there were hardly any infantrymen actually marching on foot!

The Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler lived up to their formidable reputation, Logan thought. No wonder, in some later battles of World War II, the SS armored divisions took on both offensive and defensive roles. With elite equipment and an unyielding will to fight to the death, they accomplished many seemingly impossible tasks. Although they ultimately couldn't prevent the collapse of the Reich, at the tactical level, they achieved heights that other units of the same period could hardly match.

It had been over half an hour since they left Monck, and the sky was gradually darkening. Likely due to continuous bombing by the Luftwaffe and the destruction caused by the retreating Allied forces, the road conditions along the way were terrible. Combined with the heavy traffic moving in the opposite direction, even the Sd.Kfz. 251, a half-track armored vehicle with decent off-road capabilities, could only move slightly faster than a bicycle. Fortunately, air superiority was still in the hands of the Luftwaffe, and before nightfall, they could occasionally see Messerschmitt fighters and Junkers bombers flying overhead. Their presence greatly ensured that the German ground troops wouldn't be harassed by enemy aircraft.

Whoosh…

A familiar, eerie sound came without warning, followed by a nearby explosion that felt like an invisible claw scratching at Logan's heart! He jumped up from his seat and peered over the edge of the armored vehicle's side: although it was getting dark, it wasn't pitch black yet. The explosion had occurred about a hundred meters ahead to the left, leaving a charred crater in the ground. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any casualties or vehicle damage.

A landmine?

Logan quickly dismissed this speculation. If it were a landmine left by the Allies, it wouldn't have made that siren-like sound. His guess was soon confirmed: when the sharp, strange sound came again, he saw a small dark red dot flying at high speed from the wilderness to the left of the road, transforming into a blinding fireball less than 50 meters from the armored vehicle!

"wocao! We're under attack!" Logan shouted in a mix of German and Chinese.

Judging from the bright flames, billowing smoke, and scattered mud, the power of this shell wasn't as strong as the SS's howitzers. But looking at the panicked vehicles on the road, Logan didn't feel the least bit relieved. Just two seconds later, the whoosh sound came again. At that moment, a hand suddenly grabbed Logan's shoulder and pulled him down. Before he could react, a deafening explosion rang out, and his eardrums throbbed with pain!

"wocao!" Logan cursed again. The armored vehicle trembled under the powerful impact, and some hard objects clattered against its sides. He realized that if his helmetless head had remained outside, it might have been wrapped like a rice dumpling again. With worse luck, he might have met his maker!

The tense situation didn't allow the Luftwaffe Leutnant to continue wandering in his thoughts. Since the last shell had landed directly on the road ahead, the driver quickly swerved, causing the vehicle to lurch violently. Logan was thrown to the floor, his buttocks nearly splitting into eight pieces!

"Damn it!" Logan cursed for the third time. Steffenberg reached out to help him up and asked,

"Leutnant, you keep saying 'wocao.' What does it mean?"

"It's slang from my hometown!" Logan patted his butt and said, "The full name is 'wocao nima' or 'cao nima,' referring to a mythical creature that only exists in legends!"

"Oh... like a dragon?" the paratrooper lieutenant asked.

Logan found it amusing but wasn't in the mood for small talk. "No, dragons are dragons! 'Cao nima' is completely different from all other animals! Forget it, you wouldn't understand!"

At that moment, the armored vehicle's driver shouted, "Everyone, hold on! We're speeding up to get through!"

Logan had no objections, but Steffenberg asked worriedly, "Will the vehicle behind us keep up in time?"

"Don't worry! They can see the signals from my taillights!" the driver replied loudly.

Whoosh…

The endless barrage of shells continued to rain down. The paratroopers held their breath. Could they really be this unlucky? Medals were within reach!

Logan noticed that several soldiers in the vehicle were already crossing themselves.

One explosion after another illuminated the dark space, only to plunge it back into deeper darkness.

Logan peered through the firing port. The road was a complete mess, with many vehicles either colliding or stopping on the roadside. Two unfortunate ones had already turned into burning wrecks! By the faint light of the flames, Logan noticed several bodies lying on the ground—SS or Wehrmacht, it didn't matter now.

These were all German soldiers, his comrades!

The half-track armored vehicle jolted violently again, and Logan was thrown to the floor once more. His back burned with pain, and his head spun. Steffenberg pulled him up and said, "You need to be careful, Leutnant!"

Only then did Logan realize that he was the only one in the vehicle who had fallen twice. Balance was an important part of paratrooper training, which seemed to mean he wasn't a very qualified paratrooper...

"Thanks!" He quickly patted his butt as if nothing had happened.

"The vehicle's stuck, damn it!" the driver cursed from the front. The terrain that could trap a half-track armored vehicle was undoubtedly terrible, no wonder the inertia had been so strong!

Logan and Steffenberg exchanged glances and simultaneously shouted, "Get out! Everyone, get out now!"

The worst thing for armored troops was having their vehicle break down in the middle of the battlefield, just as the worst thing for the air force was an engine failure mid-flight. The paratroopers grabbed their weapons and scrambled out of the vehicle, fearing that the next enemy shell would land right on them.

When Logan jumped out of the vehicle, thinking he was being brave, he nearly sprained his ankle. This suddenly brought him back to reality: the battlefield was no place for showing off. Only by keeping himself alive would he have the chance to shine, contribute, and, well, flirt!

Leutnant Steffenberg's battlefield adaptability was clearly superior. Seeing the last paratrooper exit the vehicle, he shouted, "Everyone, stay close to the Leutnant! Don't get separated!"

"Ugh!"

Logan groaned inwardly. Now he was responsible for over a dozen lives. East, south, west, or north—these choices couldn't be decided by rolling dice!

A second later, Logan decided to follow his instincts. He crouched and moved westward along the road for about ten meters, then raised his left fist, signaling the paratroopers to take cover. Using binoculars, he quickly observed the area: flickering flames occasionally appeared on the distant horizon. Even with his limited combat experience, Logan knew that was the muzzle flash of artillery. However, due to the poor lighting, he couldn't tell if it was from field guns or tanks.

"Tanks! British tanks! We have to stop them!"

About seven or eight meters away, a German officer standing on an armored vehicle shouted. The soldiers on his vehicle quickly jumped down and unloaded a towed gun from the rear. Nearby, another gun towed by a half-track armored vehicle was also being rapidly repositioned by its crew.

British tanks?

Logan suddenly remembered what he had seen from the plane earlier: could it have been these tanks?

"Looks like 2-pounder guns! Hopefully, they're not Matildas! But even the Somua S-35 is no pushover!" Steffenberg muttered beside him.

"Matilda?" The name sounded familiar. Logan thought for a moment—wasn't that the legendary "Queen of the Battlefield," with an attack power of only 40 but a defense power of 100?

The self-taught Luftwaffe Leutnant didn't seem to realize that there were currently two main models of this tank, the only one in the world named after a woman. The Mark I was equipped only with machine guns, had a maximum armor thickness of 60 mm, and a top speed of 12.8 km/h, making it relatively easy to deal with. In contrast, the Mark II, armed with a 2-pounder tank gun (40 mm caliber), had improved firepower, frontal armor thickened to nearly 80 mm, and a doubled top speed. This was the legendary "tortoise shell"—on the 1940 battlefield, nothing had thicker armor (the Panzer IV's frontal armor was a measly 50 mm)!