Germany does not seek survival

Scherner had a bad temper and was known for his harsh leadership style, but only in this way could he lead a regiment of German troops to resist the attack of three Italian divisions.

In the Battle of Trento, the Italian army's attack was not fully prepared and attacked blindly, so in just two or three days, it suffered heavy losses and thousands of casualties.

Tito and Scherner privately estimated that the number of Italian casualties may have exceeded the total strength of the Trentino Defense Forces.

The cold wind blew from the Alps in the north, blowing all the way to the distant horizon. From afar, the endless snow piles rising motionlessly on the horizon looked like a crystal clear solidified wave.

The dim sun, like a heavy purple balloon, just hung low over the snow, looking lifeless. The atmosphere made people realize that the end of the war was not the real end, nor even the beginning of the end. It was just the end of a prologue to the beginning stage.

The Italian army mobilized heavy artillery and bombarded repeatedly. The number of heavy weapons of the Wehrmacht was less than that of the three Italian divisions, but the German artillery was more advanced, and the artillery shooting was fast and accurate. With less than one-third of the number of artillery pieces of the Italians, they fought an artillery battle on par with the Italians.

The air was filled with dust that looked like broken mica, shining brightly and dazzling the eyes. Behind Scherner, another group of German soldiers, crouching low, trotted past quickly in the trench, the MP18s in their hands still flashing a dim red light.

The dazzling white light reflected on the snow in the wilderness forced Tito to squint his eyes. The biting cold wind made it difficult for him to breathe. The Wehrmacht soldiers around him, who were frozen solid, bumped each other's shoulders to keep warm, or patted their waists with their gloves.

The battlefield was brutal, with enemy corpses piled up like mountains, but the strength of a Wehrmacht regiment was too limited. After the battle began in the early morning, the Italian army launched several waves of continuous charges. Although they were all repelled by the Wehrmacht, Tito and Scherner both looked unhappy. If they continued like this, the German army would only achieve a casualty ratio of one to five, and would eventually have to withdraw from Trento.

Losing Trento means Tyrol's southern gate is wide open, which is not a good thing.

Tito was a little worried: "The goal of the Supreme Revolutionary Committee is to promote the German revolution. The main force of the Wehrmacht will definitely develop towards Munich. We can only hold out for a few days in Trento."

Scherner said with a cold face, "I received orders to hold Trento. Comrade Political Commissar, I think we don't need to worry about the Italian troops who have already broken through. We just need to prevent them from breaking through further. In my defense zone, every person with a weapon, whether infantry or artillery, must conduct direct fire. Don't worry, we will fight and retreat. The key is the depth of the defense line, not the width. I have formed three new skirmish lines behind the severed defense line. If the enemy breaks through, we will use intensive firepower to close the breakthrough and annihilate the enemy in turn."

Facing the massive onslaught of the three Italian divisions, Scherna remained calm. Indeed, many sections of the front-line positions were breached by the Italian army with its vast superiority in strength, but Scherna was not defeated by the Italian attack. Instead, he reorganized his defenses and closed the breakthrough point behind the Italian army, annihilating the enemy's commandos.

There was a mid-level officer who performed particularly well in the Battle of Trento.

Scherner specifically recommended this man to Tito: "Model, Otto Moritz Walter Model, Comrade Political Commissar, this man is very smart and performs very well. He is not from a Junker family, but a civilian officer. The tactics I just mentioned were thought up by Comrade Model. He advocated breaking up the whole into small pieces. Instead of holding out on the front line, we should let the enemy in and then close the breakthrough point to annihilate them."

Model was now a major in the Wehrmacht, and according to his style of warfare, defenses organized at the regimental and battalion levels were abandoned and replaced by squad- and platoon-sized units.

This "break down into small pieces" defense method seems to be disorganized, but it can be very effective when facing an Italian army that fights recklessly, has low morale, and lacks the will to attack.

When an Italian battalion of assault troops broke through the Wehrmacht's front-line positions, Model would personally lead several squads and platoons, concentrate automatic weapons such as MP18s, use the wind and snow to hide, and quickly infiltrate the breakthrough point opened by the Italian army, and then quickly close the breakthrough point with a small number of troops and a large amount of firepower.

Once the breakthrough was closed, the Italian assault troops, whose retreat was cut off, would often quickly lose their will to fight. Under the German counterattack, they would hardly be able to resist for long and would quickly surrender, just like in the Battle of the Po River in 1917.

It was by relying on this tactic that Scherner's regiment withstood the attack of three Italian infantry divisions.

Tito was also very impressed: "Now, we must hold on as long as we can. The longer we hold Trento, the more beneficial it will be for the party's revolutionary actions in the north. Even if we all die in Trento and are completely wiped out, the party has already liberated Munich. As long as the German revolution is victorious, everything we have lost will be regained in the future."

Scherner's face, as fake as a human skin mask, rarely managed a smile: "Don't worry, we won't sacrifice ourselves. We should let the enemy sacrifice ourselves."

The heavy snow continued to fall, and near the left wing of the Italian Fifth Army, Mussolini, wrapped in a fur coat, was hiding in a hidden pit filled with snow when he suddenly heard someone calling his name.

"Captain Alexander!"

The man who came was a captain in the British support force for Italy named Harold Alexander. He pulled up the gas curtain of the bunker and said: "Please come over and take a picture, Mr. Mussolini. Our troops have broken through the German positions and are advancing deep into Trento."

Mussolini wore a soft hat to protect his bald head. In this kind of war, there was no need to wear a helmet, it would freeze your ears and would not provide much protection.

Captain Alexander led Mussolini forward, and the two followed a telephone line to determine the direction. The German artillery fired back from time to time, and the battlefield was still filled with smoke.

The whistling of shells, the agonized cries, the terrifying explosions, the sound of broken iron fragments falling fiercely and drilling deep into the earth...

Mussolini was a little uneasy: "Are you okay, Captain Alexander? Did we really defeat the Germans?"

Captain Alexander of the British Army exclaimed confidently, "You haven't heard yet, have you? The latest news is that the German army has agreed to a ceasefire. Germany will hold armistice negotiations with the Allies in the Compiègne Forest. The Germans have already conceded, except for this small force in Trento. I don't know if they refuse to admit defeat, or if they haven't received the news yet. But please believe me, the war is over."

Alexander smiled at Mussolini and said, "Please come with me to the front line and take a photo of our army marching towards Trento."

For some reason, Mussolini was not as confident as Captain Alexander. He had an unshakable panic in his heart. Had the Germans been defeated?

Mussolini thought of the Battle of the Po River the previous year, and he thought of that terrible figure - Faust of Saint-Quentin.

Is this man in Trento?

The Italian army was going to fight the people of Saint-Quentin again. This matter always stuck in Mussolini's throat, making him feel uncomfortable. Whenever he spoke, he felt choked and uncomfortable.

Moreover, the German army's performance on the battlefield did not seem to have completely collapsed as Captain Alexander said. The enemy remained calm and determined, fighting fiercely and steadily. Things might not be as simple as everyone imagined.

Further west on the battlefield, the Italian Fifth Army's front line continued to extend to the left wing until near Merano, where there was no other covering force on the left wing.

There is a snow-capped mountain here, with an altitude of about 1,400 meters. It is not a particularly high mountain, but due to the influence of warm and humid air currents from the Atlantic Ocean, the mountain is covered with snow. The whole mountain is covered with silver and looks like a white torch.

The three German divisions could have taken the train directly from Innsbruck to Trento, but Faust was worried about alerting the enemy, so he got off the train before the main force arrived in Trento. Then he used sleds, skis and bicycles to move to the Merano snow-capped mountains on the flank and assembled in secret.

On the snow-capped mountains, the Wehrmacht's vanguard, the 1st "Greater Germany" Grenadier Division, all wore white wind and snow cloaks on their uniforms. Standing on the snow, they almost blended into the environment.

Faust wiped off the ice on his chest. He was wearing a snow-white cloak, holding a pair of ski poles in both hands, wearing a pair of windproof goggles over the black eye mask, and stepping on long skis.

The rest of the commando team members were also dressed in the same way.

"Comrades, please pay attention to the time."

Faust raised his goggles and pulled up his sleeves, revealing the watch on his wrist. The Wehrmacht had set a strict attack time, and the ski commandos had to launch the attack in time with the artillery waltz.

The rest of the team also followed Faust and looked at the time.

Chapter 149: White Death Faust

The north wind blew up the snow dust at the foot of the Alps, and the flying snow swept across like a white sandstorm. Mussolini soon heard the sound of artillery fire, which was not unusual in the early morning, but the sound was louder than usual.

Mussolini did not have much good feelings towards the British because Britain still occupies the island of Malta in the center of the Mediterranean. This small island is located near Sicily, controlling the maritime power of the Mediterranean and also strangling Italy's lifeline to its colony Libya.

Considering that Britain has almost won this world war, the British maritime power in the Mediterranean may only become stronger in the future, and Italy will still only be a pawn under the British Empire's maritime hegemony.

Mussolini always felt discouraged about this. Italy sacrificed millions of people, but won too little spoils!

Captain Alexander took Mussolini to a small mound with a wide view. In the forward observation post, Captain Alexander hoped that the sound of artillery would gradually die down, but the fact was just the opposite. The sound of artillery became louder and louder, which showed that the German army had not collapsed and was still fighting tenaciously. However, Captain Alexander was wishful thinking and believed that the war was basically over.

He participated in the Battle of Ypres in 1917 and suffered equally fierce bombing from the German army on the front line. At this moment, Captain Alexander, who was confident of victory, also smelled the scent of Ypres again for a moment.

In the wind and snow, the Wehrmacht artillery hidden in the snow-capped mountains of Merano, with about 110 guns, simultaneously fired at the left wing of the Italian Fifth Army. Rommel was personally responsible for the unified coordination and command of the German artillery. He completely copied the style of the "Breaker" Muller. The sound of the artillery was deafening even in the wind and snow, so that when the more than 200 artillery pieces of the Italians fired back, the sound was almost inaudible.

On the snowy mountains of Merano, the Wehrmacht's artillerymen hid under white camouflage nets. In the freezing weather, their shirts soaked with sweat, they continuously stuffed shells into the gun barrels. Their fighting spirit was high, and they fired continuously without any further instructions from their commanders.

Faust held up his ski poles, and the commandos stepped on their skis and skied down the Merano Snow Mountain in the wind. The team was astonishingly fast, nimbly avoiding several steep rocks and rushing down the mountain at high speed.

As Faust slid down the steep snow-capped mountain slope, the momentum and the sudden force of the descent almost made him forget that this was a war.

The forests on both sides quickly receded behind him, the flying snow was like a sandstorm, and the hillside covered with soft snow in front of him looked like a sand dune. Faust crossed his hands, raised his skis to the sky, and then crossed the snow dune, and then quickly fell down. The ski commando behind Faust also followed suit and quickly caught up.

In a short while, hundreds of skiers from this commando team had rushed down the Merano snow mountain.

The left wing of the Italian Fifth Army soon appeared in Faust's goggles. The enemy had dug several trenches along the snow line, and there were dense barbed wire in front of the trenches.

However, under the wind and snow, the barbed wire was covered with snow. Several sections of barbed wire were either blown away by the blizzard earlier or covered by the fierce artillery waltz barrage of the German army, and were blown out of sight by the shells.

As Faust rushed towards the barbed wire, he pressed his knees together tightly, rotated his body like tightening a screw, turned his skis sharply to the right, raising billowing white snow, then slowly slowed down and stood parallel to the barbed wire.

Faust used his skis to push down the highest wire of the barbed wire. The rest of the ski team members touched the ground with the tips of their poles, stirring up gusts of white snow. They squatted and slid, their legs moving quickly, one in front and one behind. They leaned out their bodies, and when they were close to the barbed wire, they jumped over it.

The Italian soldiers in the trenches were in a panic. Before they could react, they saw a series of blurry shadows rushing out from the snow and dust at an astonishing speed.

The rifles in the hands of the Italian army could only shoot with a bolt-action function, and the bullets could only hit the snow piles and could not hit the skiing team members at all.

Several Italian machine gunners quickly set up their bullet chains, and after a fierce burst of shooting, the continuous machine gun bullets only swept up a series of white flying snowflakes on the snow.

Faust pulled his shoulder strap, and the barrel of an MP18 submachine gun extended from his armpit. He rushed forward without slowing down, leaving a cloud of snow as high as a person. On his skis, he fired at the Italian soldiers in the trench with the MP18.

After just a few pulls of the trigger, the 32 bullets in the MP18 snail drum magazine were used up in an instant, and the Italian soldiers in the trenches were instantly killed.

Faust immediately pulled out the colored smoke stick in his hand, and a column of smoke rose into the air over the snow, indicating the direction of attack for the Wehrmacht artillery on the Merano Snow Mountain. The continuous artillery bombardment soon fell in front of the ski commandos.

A barrage of bullets advanced forward, like a wall, plowing through the Italian defense line. The smell of high explosives was captivating. Faust held up his ski poles, nimbly avoided the devastated craters on the ground, and continued to move forward.

The same was true for the ski commandos, who all crossed the trenches on their skis. The M1891 Carcano rifles used by the Italian soldiers were still old-fashioned bolt-action rifles with a magazine capacity of only six bullets. If one bullet failed to hit the fast-moving German skiers, they would soon be hit by a barrage of German MP18s.

Especially Faust.

Faust, wearing a snow cloak, truly interprets the meaning of the four words "White Death". He rushes to the front line and skis much faster than others. Every time he swings his ski poles backward, he raises a person-high snow dust, just like a snowmobile rumbling forward.

Not only was its speed terrifyingly fast, faster than a car, but the MP18 in Faust's hand also hit the target without missing a single bullet. Almost none of the 32 bullets in each of his magazines were wasted, and the final destination of each bullet was an Italian soldier.

This is really scary.

The left wing of the Italian Fifth Army was quickly penetrated by this ski assault team, and more German infantry followed the breakthrough point and continued to advance deep into the left wing of the Italian army under the cover of artillery fire.

On the eastern front of the Italian Fifth Army, Captain Alexander and Mussolini could now feel the huge threat posed by the artillery fire on the left wing.

Mussolini felt that the sound of the German artillery fire was like the collapse of the sky and the earth, and it did not seem to be man-made. Standing on a small hill, Mussolini looked to the west. The raging fire caused by the falling German shells and the white snow dust stirred up mixed together, it was like a baptism of ice and fire.

Captain Alexander's face darkened. He clearly sensed that this bombardment was unlike any other before. The noise was so loud it was terrifying. Every roar, every bang, felt neither diminishing nor increasing. But in reality, it was simply your imagination that couldn't handle the intensification.

"German reinforcements have arrived!"

In the dim morning light shrouded in fog, the infantry of the two grenadier divisions of the Wehrmacht marched silently in battle order, because the Italian front was either penetrated by Faust's ski team or blown to pieces by artillery shells, and the infantry's advance was no different from a parade.

The sky was bright and the earth was collapsing. In the dim morning light shrouded in fog, two German grenadier divisions had broken through the left wing of the Italian Fifth Army. The ski team led by Faust advanced straight ahead. No matter how many Italian soldiers there were, they could not stop this white god of death that was running like a snowmobile.

The Italians could only see a streak of snow dust as high as a person, with snowflakes flying everywhere, and wherever the snowflakes landed, the Italian soldiers there would suffer.

At the beginning, the Italian soldiers dared to resist, but with Faust's repeated breakthroughs, this breakthrough speed that was far beyond human power frightened all the Italian soldiers.

The left wing of the Italian Fifth Army originally had only two regiments of soldiers. Even without Faust's exaggerated breakthrough and strafing performance, two high-spirited German grenadier divisions were enough to completely defeat the Italian defense line within an hour or two.

Faust's astonishing move only reduced the time required for this breakthrough by half.

The Italian front was in complete chaos. The main force of the Fifth Army was still besieging the German army in Trento. The front-line troops could not withdraw for a while and could only draw reserve troops from the rear to reinforce the left wing. The back and forth would waste a lot of time.

The commander of the Italian Fifth Army was Prince Emanuele Filiberto from the royal family. He was the son of Vittorio Emanuele II, the "Father of the Fatherland", the first king of unified Italy.

Chapter 150: Negotiations in Trento

Prince Filiberto quickly called the Italian General Staff and said that the Fifth Army might be counterattacked by a German army group, but the General Staff found it unbelievable because any intelligence proved that it was impossible for the Germans to deploy an army group in Tyrol.

What's more, the German government has already been in contact with the Allies for armistice negotiations, and the fighting on all fronts except Tyrol has been declared over!

If the call had not come from Prince Emanuele Filiberto, if it had been any other general, the Italian General Staff would have thought that this man had become mentally ill due to the ecstasy of victory in the war.

The Italian General Staff can now only contact various channels, contact the German and Austrian governments, and quickly find out what is going on.

However, the Italian Fifth Army was in a difficult situation. Prince Emanuele Filiberto originally planned to withdraw troops from those areas where the situation was not so critical to deal with the most difficult enemies, but he immediately received a report from the front line that all the reserves he could mobilize had been used up and were soon defeated by the German army again.

Soon, with the collapse of the left wing of the Italian Fifth Army, two German grenadier divisions were advancing at full speed towards the Fifth Army headquarters. The large number of Italian troops on the front line besieging Trento could only retreat in a swarm due to lack of discipline and coordination.

Prince Filiberto hastily issued several orders and warnings to the relevant personnel, then stared out the window at the thick fog. "What's going on? What on earth has happened?"

Mussolini on the Trento front now also felt the fierce momentum of the German counterattack. The machine gun post was blown into the sky along with the people's limbs. The surrounding land had become a hellish scene, very similar to the hell described by Dante.

German infantrymen in gray uniforms and white cloaks surged in like a tide. In Mussolini's eyes, this was a group of fierce warriors. They seemed to come from beyond the mortal world, transcending the mundane world, like an army from Valhalla.

It's like an army fighting for Ragnarok in Norse mythology.

Even scarier, of course, is the White Death.

Faust's skis were like motorcycles, wherever they flew, snowflakes flew. The first front line was already difficult to identify, and Faust easily passed through it. At this time, a row of machine gun bullets suddenly came from the second front line. Faust jumped up quickly, but before he landed, the bullets flew past with a bang and did not hit anyone.

Faust controlled the skis and continued to move forward along the snow track full of craters.

He sometimes made sharp turns to the left, sometimes soared to the right, and the Italians were stunned. This was more exaggerated than any performance in the Olympics.

If the first Winter Olympics had not yet been held in Chamonix in the Alps, which is very close to this battlefield, everyone would have exclaimed, "Is this the gold medalist of the Winter Olympics coming to kill us?"

Faust rushed into the foggy enemy trenches and his skis stepped on something soft: the body of a British soldier.

Then Faust cried out: "Prisoners, come out!"

Captain Alexander, who was leading a team of British Expeditionary Force soldiers, was still resisting. After hearing the shout, several British soldiers immediately laid down their weapons and raised their hands in surrender, and then more British soldiers came out to surrender.

Captain Alexander cursed: "Bastard!"

But he did not dare to continue fighting with Faust, and quickly fled to the rear with the remaining British troops.

Mussolini was also among the fleeing crowd. He was deeply impressed by Faust, who was covered in snow and dust. Superman, a superman philosophy from Germany, left an indelible mark in Mussolini's mind.

The clouds and fog dispersed, and the sun began to rise. The ski commando led by Faust quickly attacked the headquarters of the Italian infantry division in front of them. In the trench in front of the headquarters, what came into view was a pile of Italian soldiers' corpses, many of whom were killed by artillery.

Faust put down his skis and walked to an Italian soldier who had lost an arm. The severed arm lay across his knees. Not far away, another man, who was still breathing but had lost both legs, looked up with a sad expression, and that slightly sad glance touched Faust.

"Water, I want water..."

The Italian murmured.

Faust handed him his canteen, which he had filled with tea and rum. The wounded man drank it all, and then the canteen slipped from his hands and he died.

Faust thought to himself, "Your war is over." Then he shouted, "Fortunately, your family will not know about your death."

At this time, Faust saw someone shooting out of the window of the headquarters. He immediately fired back at the Italian headquarters through the curtains. Another member of the ski commando team immediately rushed forward bravely, pulled off the curtains, and threw in a grenade. There was an explosion, a cloud of smoke, and a dead silence.

Faust kicked open the door of the headquarters and walked in. He said with regret: "It's a pity that we lost a captured division commander. Comrade, your grenade killed several Italian generals."

The battle to wipe out the Italian division headquarters did not last long. Battalions of enemies began to scramble out of the trenches, stumbling towards the rear, and the corpses they left behind piled up into a small hill.