A Battle of Remnants

When the British infantry's front line advanced to within about 400 meters of the German trenches—close enough for both sides to make out the shape of each other's helmets—Logan decisively gave the order to fire.

Unlike the violent scenes witnessed earlier on the eastern and western side, the SS positions responded with sporadic gunfire at first, as if their communication systems hadn't fully recovered. It took several seconds for the gunfire to intensify, but the beloved "ripping canvas" sound of the MG-34 machine guns never reached the level needed to send the enemy fleeing in panic.

Logan bit his lip. Although the British infantry fell in rows as seen through his binoculars, the khaki-clad tide continued to advance overall. Some machine gunners even had the composure to lie down, set up their guns, and return fire. The suppressive fire from the German side was far from sufficient. Just imagine: on this less-than-3-kilometer-wide front, if dozens of MG-34s had opened fire simultaneously, these 2,000 British infantrymen would likely have had no chance to escape!

"Report!"

Logan and Kell turned their heads simultaneously. The SS soldier sent to tally the numbers had finally returned.

"There are about 350 soldiers and some wounded left on the defensive line. Only 9 to 10 MG-34 machine guns are operational, along with 7 mortars, 2 anti-tank guns, and..."

Logan waved his hand. The situation was almost as he had predicted: they were still capable of fighting, but something had to be done to turn the tide.

He prayed that Lent and the others would complete their task efficiently. The appearance of even a single Panzer IV on the battlefield would greatly boost German morale and intimidate the British. But where had Dietrich's reserves gone? Had they been pointlessly lost to the British naval bombardment?

At the moment, the one thing the German SS defending the northern town line didn't lack was flares. Fired at a rate of one per minute, they kept the battlefield relatively well-lit. The accuracy of the Mauser 98K and Lee-Enfield rifles was quite comparable, but the German soldiers, entrenched in their trenches, had a slight advantage. However, through the observation slit, Logan saw the British front line still rapidly closing in. If this continued, it wouldn't be long before the SS soldiers had to raise their bayonets for close-quarters combat—whether these burly men were genuinely tough or just for show remained to be seen.

Time ticked by. The British heavy machine guns and infantry guns continued to fire relentlessly. Logan could imagine the state of his own positions: Was there really no way to turn this around?

When the British soldiers' faces became visible to the naked eye, Logan drew his Webley VI revolver from its holster. This standard-issue sidearm, which had seen ups and downs in the British Army, had been in service for 25 years since its initial mass production. Although the British had since adopted lighter Enfield revolvers, the Webley remained the most trusted sidearm among British officers and soldiers.

The two sides were now dangerously close. A hasty retreat would lead to tragic consequences. Every soldier present seemed acutely aware of this. Officers silently drew their pistols, and messengers picked up rifles leaning against the walls.

If there were any "ifs," Logan might have ordered his men to retreat into the town earlier. While it wouldn't have boosted morale, compressing the defensive line would have increased firepower density and possibly avoided the precise fire of British infantry guns. But now, there were no "ifs."

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat...

A sound distinctly different from machine gun fire reached Logan's ears. The SS messenger standing at the bunker entrance peered outside and shouted excitedly, "It's our armored car!"

Logan looked through the observation slit. Larger, redder tracers swept through the British infantry like fiery whips, dropping everyone in their path. This had to be the German 20mm autocannon, known as the "infantry killer."

"Machine gun positions! Tell them to take out the British machine gun positions!" Logan glanced back at the SS messenger. The simple-looking soldier was momentarily stunned but then dashed out.

When a second "fiery whip" joined the fray, the tide finally began to turn: dozens of British infantrymen in the front line were cut down, and those behind them were mowed down by German gunfire before they could fill the gaps. For the first time, the advancing wave of British soldiers stalled—in some areas, it even began to retreat!

"Well done!" Logan clenched his fist. However, the adage "the situation on the battlefield changes in an instant" held true across time and space. Flashes of light appeared in the distance, and several shells came screaming in. Explosions erupted behind the German lines, and the two "fiery whips" vanished.

Logan froze for two seconds. Then, the British infantry in front of the positions let out a collective roar: the final charge had begun!

Staying in the command bunker meant waiting to be captured. Logan rushed out with his pistol in hand. The scene in the trenches was chaotic and grim. Half the soldiers near the command post were already dead or seriously wounded, and the remaining men continued to fire, but their momentum was waning.

Faced with this chaotic and brutal scene, Logan realized that all he could do was act as an ordinary soldier, ready to face the British infantry in a life-or-death struggle. However, his brawling skills would be useless here, and his bayonet skills were laughable—he was a complete novice!

At this critical moment, one of the "fiery whips" reappeared. It swept back and forth about 20 meters in front of the positions, single-handedly halting the advance of a large group of British infantry in just a few seconds! Logan turned to see a four-wheeled armored car with a metal mesh cover on its roof. The "fiery whip" was being unleashed from its fixed turret!

On the battlefield, "showing off" usually came at a cost. Although the armored car moved while firing, British shells soon found their mark. The first few narrowly missed, but the next two hit home. In a blinding fireball, the armored car was engulfed in smoke and flames. Moments later, a deafening explosion signaled its complete destruction.

The flicker of hope was extinguished, and Logan plunged into despair. However, the battlefield was full of dramatic twists. Suddenly, the clanking of tank treads reached his ears. Logan's heart leapt: Had Dietrich's tanks finally arrived?

"Leutnant, over here!" The voice that followed, however, belonged to Steffenberg.

Logan turned to see the paratrooper lieutenant beckoning him from a half-track armored vehicle. The vehicle was equipped with a shielded machine gun, but it wasn't firing!

Logan instinctively took a step forward, but a clear voice in his mind said: You can't run. You mustn't run! War isn't just about intelligence. The saying goes, 'The first burst of energy is the strongest, the second weaker, the third exhausted.' You must hold your ground! Do you want to be known as the fleeing lieutenant, the fleeing colonel, the fleeing general, or even the fleeing field marshal?

The intense internal struggle resolved in an instant. Logan resolutely pulled his foot back and shouted with all his might, "Lent, bring the vehicle over! We must push the British back!"

His voice cut through the gunfire and explosions. He couldn't see Steffenberg's expression, but moments later, the half-track started moving—toward the front lines!

In this moment, Logan had no time to sort through his complex emotions. As the flare died out, the battlefield grew dim, but by the light of gunfire, he could see the British infantry closing in, now just 20 to 30 meters from the trench. The bayonets on their Lee-Enfield rifles gleamed coldly.