Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

Now, they are very likely the only survivors of that squadron...

……

"They're here again! Enemy planes are coming again!" Captain Lancer's squadron was in complete chaos once again.

Those infantry fighting vehicles and assault guns, the fighter jets have already spotted them, and behind the spraying ammunition belts are rockets ready to be launched!

Two planes, each carrying six rockets—a total of twelve rockets—transformed into a sky full of fiery meteors, like a handful of throwing knives haphazardly hurled by a demon in the heavens. Explosions erupted one after another, the fiery fangs mercilessly devouring the black lambs, turning them into a scorching furnace of explosions. These steel beasts, which had previously filled the American soldiers with utter terror, were forever stripped of their right to swagger.

……

On the departing train, Jonathan had already escaped the narrow passage and was out of danger.

They heard the familiar engine sound again, and when they looked up, two more fighter jets flew overhead and took off—including the two that had destroyed the two steel dolls earlier, this was now four.

"What's that? A sergeant?"

"P-51 Mustang fighter jet, our guardian angel."

"Angels with .50 machine guns and rocket-propelled grenades? Ha! So these are the brothers who were supposed to cover our retreat?"

"There can't be anyone more suitable than them." The sergeant dusted himself off and looked towards the carriage ahead.

There was something strange there, covered by a canvas.

"Huh?" The others joined in the fun, following the sergeant's gaze. "What's that?"

“The thing we should take.” The three of them didn’t know, but Jonathan could tell from the bumps that it was the steel giant he had asked the generals to drag back.

“Remember, guys. One day, we’ll send those bitches who drove us out of Berlin, those bedbugs, back to their wombs…”

"Believe me...they all have to die..."

Chapter 48, Side Story (Part Two): On the desolate plains, where to go from here?

There are so many similarities in this world.

Take a soldier, for example. A few months ago, he might have witnessed a comrade die at the hands of a sniper. And today, another buddy fell into a pool of blood after a cunning shot—even the location of the bullet and the posture of falling were so similar.

Perhaps just a few months ago, he witnessed enemy-occupied towns being torn apart by the relentless barrage of his own artillery fire. And today, just like those months ago, he lay in a foxhole, watching the enemy capital turn into a sea of ​​fire under the relentless barrage of bullets—months later, another part of the sky was dyed dark red by gray clouds and raging flames.

Today, the fallen comrade's name was Harry; tomorrow, another comrade will fall, named Harrington—both died from grenades.

Tomorrow, he'll hide inside a building, the outer wall used for cover blasted open by tank artillery; the day after, he'll hide behind sandbags, a rocket launcher throwing him and the sand into the flames...

……

There are so many similarities, far too many...

Similar time, similar place, similar name, similar events...

What would it look like if so many similar pieces were put together?

……

An unprecedented catastrophe—the damned world war.

Collapsed exterior walls, houses hollowed out by bombing, rubble scattered like ants, and you might even find a part of a victim's remains—it's hard to imagine that this is what we humans, who often talk about "kindness," have done.

……

You glance up casually and notice a towering building in the distance.

It was a church nearly 100 meters high—unbelievable that such a prominent building could be largely preserved amidst the floods of war!

The earthen-red exterior walls, though forcibly painted black and gray by flames and explosions, silently radiated warmth in the rising sun. The bluish-gray roof had long been shattered in the fire, the beams and the jagged roof surface almost completely charred black, resembling the carcass of a camel eroded by wind and sand in the desert.

A solitary clock tower stands prominently amidst the undulating ruins, embodying the last vestiges of medieval Gothic style. The slender spire remains relatively intact, the stained glass windows faded, only the golden clock face still faintly visible, casting dappled sunlight into the eyes of all who behold it. Like the tears of the Virgin Mary, it weeps for the city's misfortune, for its people, for this catastrophe that should never have happened.

You may already recognize which church this is, and you may know its name—Imperial Cathedral of Saint Bartholomew.

It also has a more common name – Frankfurt Cathedral.

Yes, this is Frankfurt. The devastation you are walking through is the result of the wars that ravaged Europe. Its full name is Frankfurt am Main.

Why add the name of a river? Because 470 kilometers to its southeast, on the west bank of the Oder River, there is also a German city called Frankfurt. To distinguish the two, it was named accordingly—yes, both are in Germany, both are called Frankfurt, and both have experienced the ravages of war on the European continent. How similar they are.

The only difference is that Frankfurt am Oder—that's the full name of the city to the east—is not a particularly remarkable city. During World War II, its population was less than 7, and the entire city, except for its suburbs, was scorched into ruins by the Soviet Red Army's artillery fire.

Frankfurt am Main, however, suffered a completely different fate. As one of the core cities at the time, and later the fifth largest city in Germany, approximately 28,000 tons of bombs fell from the cargo holds of hundreds of American and British bombers, landing in the more than 200 square kilometers of brick and tile forest. The centuries-old medieval city center, along with the lives of more than 5000 residents and countless houses, vanished into smoke in the storm of fire.

Before the outbreak of war, Frankfurt had a population of over 55.

By the end of the war, some had died, some had fled, leaving only 35 survivors.

Is it regrettable? No.

Do you think that few cities shared the same fate as Frankfurt during World War II? No city directly affected by the war escaped unscathed.

……

If you were to stroll through the streets of Frankfurt at this time, you would have to marvel at how lucky the city is—Stalingrad, Warsaw, Leningrad, Kharkiv, Caen, and even Tokyo on the other side of the world. Although Frankfurt is just as smoggy, it is far better off than those cities.

……

In the northwest of the city center, you can be surprised to find a building that is almost intact. It is not like a cathedral with only the outer walls and roof frame remaining, but it looks like it has not been hit by bombs at all!

Six square-shaped buildings, like suitcases, are arranged on a regular arc. Each building faces the center of the arc, perpendicular to the tangent of the arc, with an angular deviation of 6 degrees between adjacent buildings, creating an aesthetically pleasing and dignified appearance.

……

IG Farben Building, that's the name of this building.

Farben, a German company that was once the largest company in Europe and the world’s largest chemical and pharmaceutical company, has its headquarters in Frankfurt in the Farben Building.

Its past glory is truly unbelievable: Fabien produced synthetic fuels and synthetic rubber that enabled Germany to break through resource bottlenecks. In addition, it was responsible for 100% of the methanol and lubricating oil used by the German army during World War II, 80% of its explosives and 35% of its sulfuric acid, and even the hydrogen cyanide used for extermination in concentration camps.

Without Falcombe, the war machine of the Third Reich might never have had the fuel to run. Its high value made it a major concern for the Allied high command at the time.

After the swastika, a symbol of evil, was completely destroyed in the flames of war in Berlin, Fabien, which had been supported by the Nazi Party, was slowly thrown onto the chopping block by the Allies, ready to be slaughtered at will.

It's still unclear how badly the company can be exploited.

But at least, Frankfurt was in the American-occupied zone, so now, looking at the American soldiers standing guard in front of the Farben Building and the Stars and Stripes flying in front of the building, the answer to a certain question is already quite clear.

The Farben Building had by then become the military and political headquarters of the U.S. military stationed in Germany.

There was nothing particularly special about the building: company executives had become high-ranking military officers; the documents on the desks were no longer related to production targets or scientific research results, but instead contained military orders and troop arrangements.

At this very moment, as morning approaches, a silent film is playing in an office within this building.

Directly opposite the office door is a clean, flat black table.

On the wall behind the table hung a map of Germany, with a flag on each side. One was the Stars and Stripes, symbolizing the United States, and the other was a red flag with the faint shadows of a few white stars peeking out from the folds—that was the U.S. Army general's flag, with the same number of small stars as the general's epaulettes.

Beside the desk lamp, a black fountain pen with gold trim sits quietly in its designated pen holder.

The chair was quite a distance from the edge of the table, and a military overcoat hung on the back of the chair. Looking at the object placed in the center of the table from afar was a pair of glasses and a piece of paper covered with writing. Next to the glasses was a peaked cap belonging to a certain general.

The general was standing in front of a mirror hanging on the wall, tilting his head back and adjusting his collar.

The wrinkles on his forehead were like stone carvings above his eyebrows, and his eyes held the look that a general must have—resolute, decisive, and thoughtful. His head was almost completely bald, with wisps of white hair clinging to his scalp like flickering candle flames.

For a general in his fifties, such an expression is something almost everyone would have, but what makes this general different from others is not his face.

In the center of his military uniform shoulder insignia was a gilded bald eagle with outstretched wings.

Each of its two claws grasps an olive branch and an arrow, while its wings support a gold-rimmed circle containing 13 white stars arranged quietly on a blue background—yes, this is the image of the United States national emblem.

On the outward-facing end of the epaulettes, five bright white stars are quietly set in, aligned with the five vertices of a regular pentagon.

The bald eagle emblem and five stars appear on shoulder boards, a combination reserved for only one military rank—five-star general.

With the rank of a five-star general and being in Europe at the time, only one person fits this description.

Dwight Eisenhower, Supreme Allied Commander during World War II and the highest-ranking military and political officer of the U.S. forces stationed in Germany after the war.

The general looked at himself in the mirror, sighed, and walked to a chair, deep in thought.

……

"General! Urgent telegram from Berlin! The 1st Infantry Division and the 82nd Airborne Division have been attacked by a large number of unidentified armed men in the city!"

This is the morning of October 28th, the day before yesterday, when an officer stumbled into his office and plunged the entire headquarters into a long and anxious day.

By the evening of the 28th, all the news coming from Berlin combined to form the following: the enemy's identity was unknown, and they were equipped with weapons never seen before, especially the so-called "steel giants four or five meters tall," which was truly perplexing.

"What the damned Germans have been up to in secret, or are the Russians planning an attack?" These two speculations quickly crumbled in the face of a call from Berlin on the 29th, which stated that "enemy identification tags were found to be written in English."

……

The general sat down quietly. These things that had been giving him a headache for three days were quite puzzling to the entire American army, and even to the British and French.

But at least one thing is certain: just yesterday, he had a telephone conversation with Marshal Zhukov of the Soviet Union, and the Soviet army agreed to a 24-hour ceasefire starting at 18:00 on the 29th, which allowed the US troops and a small number of British and French troops accompanying them to leave Berlin safely by train. Moreover, the Soviet Army Air Forces could send fighter jets into Soviet airspace to escort the trains.

Why not allow a large number of Allied aircraft to enter Soviet airspace to support the 1st Infantry Division? Please, that would really turn into World War III, and Eisenhower has no interest in becoming a second "Führer of the Reich".

Moreover, he secured some advantages for the United States, Britain, and France: the Allied troops were only temporarily withdrawing from Berlin, and the agreement reached at the Yalta Conference regarding the division of Berlin among the four powers remained in effect. However, to avoid complicating matters, the Soviet army currently held absolute authority in Berlin, albeit temporarily.

Now all he had to do was wait for news that all American troops had withdrawn from Berlin. Once that was done, he would immediately set off on a special plane to the Soviet-occupied zone to meet with Zhukov face-to-face to discuss the situation in Berlin—that's why the general dressed so neatly, not just because he was a soldier.

However, he had one more thing to do before that, but he had already taken care of it yesterday.

The general placed his glasses to the side and picked up the piece of paper that was in the center of the table.

Above is the original telegram he and his subordinates drafted, addressed to the Pentagon—the headquarters of the U.S. War Department and the Army General Staff.

Now, with Western Europe beginning to stir up some unrest because of the fire in Berlin, it is necessary for him, as the Supreme Commander, to let his officials on the ground know something.

……

Shortly after the telegram was sent, he received a reply from the Pentagon regarding these points:

"All U.S. troops stationed in Germany shall immediately enter a state of full combat readiness, and pay close attention to Soviet movements. Without orders from the War Department, no U.S. unit shall be allowed to launch a preemptive attack on Soviet forces. At the same time, a thorough investigation shall be conducted into the movements of local German residents, and any suspicious activities shall be dealt with immediately at the highest level."

This was, of course, an expected response; he had already instructed the US military to increase vigilance beforehand.

What he cared about most were the following contents of the telegram:

"Furthermore, due to the impact of the Berlin Incident, relations between the Western Allies and the Soviet Union may deteriorate irreversibly in the short term, and may even lead to new armed conflicts in Germany. In order to have sufficient reserve forces to prepare for any eventuality, we request the General Staff to immediately suspend 'Operation Magic Carpet,' and all US troops stranded in Germany who are preparing to return to the United States should suspend their return to the US and be ready to join any possible operations in preparation for any eventuality."

The Pentagon's response was also quite straightforward:

"Regarding the proposal to suspend 'Operation Magic Carpet,' the Army General Staff and the Navy have reached a basic agreement after discussions. Therefore, all U.S. forces preparing to evacuate Germany are ordered to immediately suspend their withdrawal and prepare contingency plans for any unforeseen events. Furthermore, the delay of Operation Magic Carpet is under active discussion with Congress and the President, tentatively scheduled for November 15th. If the situation does not deteriorate further during this period, Operation Magic Carpet will be restarted immediately."

Well, seeing the reply from the General Staff, the general felt a little relieved.

But at this point you might ask, if the general has the original telegram in his hand, and the telegram has already been sent, why is it still on his desk instead of being put into the archives?

Because the general had added an important matter that suddenly came to mind to the original document, and then revised the content before sending it out. The final original document had already been archived, and the one in front of him, filled with words, lines, corrections, and arrows, was in a semi-draft state.

What was this added content? The answer lies on this piece of paper; it's a passage he wrote down his own revisions:

"Finally, please pass on a message to the Army Chief of Staff, General George Marshall: the situation in Europe has suddenly changed, and the U.S. military needs Ike to remain in Germany to stabilize the situation. At the same time, the United States of America also needs a general to strategize for the nation in this critical moment. Therefore, I request that Your Excellency consider postponing your resignation until the situation in Europe has stabilized, and then raise this matter again with the President."

“You must stay, General…” Eisenhower muttered to himself, holding the original telegram. Looking at the words he had written and revised over and over again, it was a truly indescribable feeling.

……

"General!" An officer entered with a telegram. "The troops stationed in Berlin have sent a telegram from the train; they have successfully evacuated."

Eisenhower took the telegram, glanced at it, and left it on the table. He then picked up his coat from the back of his chair—the weather was already getting a bit chilly at the end of October.

"Okay, we can set off now." He put on his coat and handed the draft to the officer. "Get rid of this thing later."

"Yes, sir." The officer took the "scrap paper." "Are you alright, General?"

"Me? Ha..." The general slowly put on his hat and glanced at himself in the mirror.

"I just hope no one causes trouble..."

……

Meanwhile, at a military airport southeast of Frankfurt, a C-47 transport plane from France quietly and smoothly landed.

Inside the cabin, an American general strolled out leisurely, tilting his chin up and squinting his eyes. He stood calmly at the cabin door, surveying the airport scenery.

His smile revealed a confidence and aloofness unlike any other Allied general, as if he were a lord who had stepped out of the Middle Ages.

After standing still for a long time, he finally took a step, and his epaulets followed him out of the shadow of the plane. The four silver stars arranged vertically shone brightly in the sunlight, displaying the unique brilliance of a famous general.