Artillery is God

Faced with Dietrich's "gilded invitation," Logan wasn't exactly thrilled, but he was deeply conflicted. Which path would be more advantageous for him?

If he followed Dietrich, he might quickly rise to the rank of battalion commander. As the Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler (Hitler's personal bodyguard regiment) expanded, his position would likely rise with it. Moreover, the SS had many "privileges," and the opportunities to interact with high-ranking German officials would far exceed those in the fallschirmjäger unit. However, the downsides were also obvious. First, "defecting" from the Luftwaffe would earn him the disdain of most Wehrmacht generals. While this might not matter much as a mid-level officer, the resistance would grow stronger the higher he climbed. Looking back at World War II history, it seemed no SS commander had ever risen to the rank of army group commander.

Of course, with Logan's "foresight" of key historical events, finding a shortcut to the top wasn't impossible. But to do so, he would need to be extremely shrewd, cunning, and even evil. Upon reflection, Logan felt he had potential in the last category but fell short in the first two.

Better to decline, Logan thought. After all, most Germans, especially soldiers, respected the "pure bloodline" of the Wehrmacht. In the long run, staying with the paratroopers would be more beneficial. However, Dietrich was a strong-willed and charismatic figure. A careless rejection could have unpleasant consequences. After some thought, Logan smiled and said:

"Well... does that mean your unit is planning to form a fallschirmjäger company? If so, my men and I would be more than happy to serve under you!"

Dietrich stared intently at Logan, as if trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. The atmosphere grew slightly awkward, but Peter, standing nearby, chuckled and broke the tension: "Ha, we'd need a bunch of 'Auntie' Ju-52s for that!"

Dietrich also laughed, and the tension eased.

"I wasn't wrong about you, Hans. I envy General Student for having such a clever commander like you! As I said, if you ever need help, just ask."

"Haha, no wonder the astrologer said I'd meet a benefactor a few months ago. It must have been you!" Logan resorted to his old trick of mystification.

Dietrich, however, didn't seem interested in astrology. Perhaps to mask his disappointment, he turned to observe the busy artillerymen and asked Peter, "How much ammunition do we have left?"

Despite their personal relationship, Peter, the burly artillery commander, answered professionally: "We have one and a half crates of 75mm shells and one full crate of 150mm shells remaining."

"Can we hold out until noon tomorrow?" Dietrich's deadline was a full day longer than what the military had given him.

It's always good to leave some room for flexibility, Logan thought.

The artillery commander, who was about the same age as Dietrich, replied, "If we conserve ammunition and only engage in attacks like the one earlier, we can last a day and a half. But... I'm worried the enemy might attack from both the east and west. Even if they don't attack simultaneously, our shell consumption could double."

Dietrich lowered his head in thought, while Logan took the opportunity to survey the artillery position. The light was dim, but from the trench-like gun emplacements, he estimated there were nearly 20 guns deployed here. In reality, due to the longer range of the 105mm howitzers being used to bombard Dunkirk, only the shorter-range 75mm le.IG 18 and 150mm sIG 33 infantry guns had been used in the earlier barrage. According to Wehrmacht standards, a regimental artillery battery was equipped with six 75mm guns and two 150mm guns. However, the Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler not only exceeded the manpower of a typical Wehrmacht armored regiment but also boasted a luxurious arsenal. Of course, more guns didn't always mean better—logistics were a headache for all warring nations. Perhaps only the Americans, with their absurd level of mechanization, could handle it.

The guns themselves weren't particularly remarkable. What caught Logan's attention more was the artillery position itself. The so-called trench-style gun emplacements were essentially large pits dug into the ground, similar to infantry trenches. When the gun barrels were elevated to nearly 45 degrees, they looked like giant frogs squatting in their holes. The gunners and ammunition were also stored in these interconnected pits.

"It's hard to believe all this was done in just nine hours!" Logan praised Peter, the SS artillery commander. Even to a novice, the effort required to set up such a position was immense.

Peter chuckled modestly. "It's nothing, really. It only took a few hours."

Dietrich stepped in to explain, "Hans, you wouldn't know this, but Peter was a bit of a maverick back in the Wehrmacht. He always came up with unconventional methods that left the old-school officers speechless. Look at this position—70% of it was blasted out!"

"Blasted out?" This was completely unexpected for Logan.

"That's right," Dietrich said. "Dig a small hole, set off two consecutive explosions, and you've got a circular gun emplacement. The trenches are the same. Once the main structure is done, the soldiers just need to tidy it up a bit and move the guns in."

"Oh?" Logan took a closer look. No wonder the position had seemed odd earlier. Normally, manually dug trenches would have piles of dirt along the edges, but here, the edges of the gun emplacements and trenches were only slightly raised.

Dietrich said proudly, "Completing this in three hours—that's something no Wehrmacht artillery unit could achieve."

Logan studied Peter, who stood nearby smiling silently. Who would have thought this man with a classic German face and burly build was such a flexible and innovative thinker?

As the three men talked, the familiar sound of a siren suddenly echoed in the distance. Everyone, including Logan, turned pale. Before more shells could fall, they quickly ran into the temporary observation post next to the artillery position. This small space, originally meant for one commander, one communicator, and two observers, was now crammed with seven people, turning it into a sardine can. Although the wooden frame was only topped with a meter-thick layer of dirt, it was still the most reliable shelter in the area.

Amid the continuous explosions, the half-hour of false calm was shattered. This time, it was the Allied artillery showing their might. Their shells accurately covered the German outer defenses, with a few hitting the town itself. The German artillery position wasn't spared either, but as long as the shells didn't land directly in the gun pits or detonate the ammunition, the guns and gunners in the trenches would be relatively safe. As for the ammunition trucks, they had already fled to safer locations at the first sign of enemy bombardment.