Chapitre 182: Chapter 1: Apocalyptic Spectacle
From a distance, seeing Colonel Laurence Bach crawl into the submarine's conning tower, Lynn's mood eased somewhat, but then quickly became uneasy again: this cutting-edge large submarine should have the capability for oceanic voyages, but the three others next to it appeared to be ordinary submarines. Perhaps they had been deployed in the Atlantic for broken warfare, but apart from the essential submarine crew, they probably wouldn't be able to accommodate too many passengers. Looking around at the tank crews, armored vehicle drivers, and infantrymen from the armored column, there were still around a hundred people. Would everyone be able to board the submarines?
Regardless of where these submarines were ultimately heading, the sea below was undoubtedly safer than the land above. Calculating that it was already April 29th, just two days before the fall of Berlin, and only two weeks until Germany's surrender, Lynn felt that even if these tank crews and their equipment were left to their own devices, he couldn't afford to gamble with his exhausted body and mind.
After a moment, a young and unfamiliar SS captain stood beside the transport submarine and shouted, "Guard detail, assemble!" More than twenty SS soldiers quickly gathered around him. After counting heads, the captain instructed the soldiers to unload any extra personal belongings and board the submarine lightly. The sailors on board also cooperated well, guiding the soldiers with the Reichsführer-SS flag through the hatches fore and aft.
After this SS captain boarded, a military officer standing on the submarine's conning tower ordered the sailors to untie the mooring ropes from the dock pilings. It seemed that this best-equipped underwater transport was "fully booked." Shortly afterward, with the sound of rushing water but no roar of diesel engines, the large, modern-looking submarine slowly departed from the dock, and the crew quickly entered the hatches along the deck. Watching this scene, Lynn's unease grew heavier, and he kept looking around, hoping to find the figures of Mottke or Siegfried. However, they had disappeared since arriving at the port from the armored column. Had they been sent on another mission halfway?
As the large submarine continued its slow journey in the harbor, another SS officer appeared beside the second, more ordinary-looking submarine. He raised his right arm high and shouted, "Armored Battalion, assemble!" — still no concern of Lynn's. The tank crews, wearing black armored uniforms, sprang into action. Compared to the previous infantrymen, they carried much fewer personal items. Only a few had submachine guns, while the others carried a slung backpack, presumably containing essential supplies and personal items. But with a ratio of four to five personnel per tank and two to three per armored vehicle, there were still fifty or sixty people gathered.
After the headcount, a Wehrmacht SS lieutenant arranged, "Third platoon and the battalion headquarters on this submarine, First and Second platoons on the one ahead. Second platoon, third row, also on this one!"
These instructions seemed confusing, but the armored soldiers queued up to board the submarines without confusion, occupying the two submarines in one go. Meanwhile, another SS lieutenant appeared beside the fourth and currently the last submarine docked nearby. Squinting, Lynn recognized a familiar face, and a small joy rose in his heart. Then he heard the officer shouting, "Assault team, assemble," and several soldiers with night vision equipment withdrew from the outer perimeter. Seeing this, Lynn couldn't hold back anymore, ignoring the pain in his wound, limping over.
"Sir, I'm Sergeant Lynn Galgo, from the 'Vampire' assault team. My soldiers and I were previously part of the 167th Battle Group of the 4th Night Combat Group, later incorporated into the 11th Night Special Task Force in Berlin under Colonel Bach's orders to join this escort force. Should we board the submarine with our brothers from the assault team?"
Listening patiently to Lynn's explanation, the SS lieutenant smirked and said, "Sorry, buddy, my orders are to take the soldiers of the First Assault Team on this submarine, nothing else!"
"But..." Lynn tried to explain but was inadvertently bumped by a passing soldier, stumbling back two steps, the wound on his thigh suddenly tearing with pain.
The lieutenant quickly reached out to support him, but still spoke with a helpless tone, "Sorry, buddy, I'm just following orders!"
With few of the Night Assault Team soldiers left, only about a dozen, but about half of them carried infrared night vision equipment. After all soldiers, including two medics, boarded the submarine, the lieutenant had the sailors remove the gangway. Though Tanze barely made it to his side to help himself, Lynn felt a sense of desolation, as if he were being abandoned by this ruthless world.
The second submarine had already started its diesel engine, the stern foaming with white water, followed closely by the third submarine. It seemed that the fourth would also depart soon. At that moment, Mottke's voice came from afar, "Hey, Lynn, Lynn!"
Lynn turned quickly, seeing his "lucky star" coming down from an armored command vehicle parked by the dock. The anxious mood calmed somewhat, and looking around the dock again, many SS soldiers who had arrived with the armored column remained.
Considering Lynn's injury, Mottke jogged over, whispering to him, "Two submarines were delayed on the way here, they're on their way now, so... we'll have to wait a little longer!"
"Two submarines?" Lynn roughly estimated that there were still around thirty people left. Using two submarines to accommodate them was more than enough. It seemed that those who had arranged the sea evacuation route in the first place hadn't anticipated such heavy casualties along the way.
"Not unexpectedly..." Mottke replied, "they're two combat submarines, coming from Denmark. They might have run into enemy patrol planes on the way!"
"Oh!" Lynn sighed softly, "I thought we were abandoned!"
Mottke chuckled self-deprecatingly, "Well, there's a chance I, as a useless person, might be abandoned, but you are the pride of the entire SS!"
Lynn thought for a moment, describing in an unconventional way, "Just a fabricated hero, right?"
"You mean for propaganda?" Mottke shook his head, "I'd rather be chosen!"
Lynn didn't pursue the matter further, instead taking advantage of the unique atmosphere to ask quietly, "Buddy, can you tell me the answer to that question now? What are we protecting?"
Mottke glanced cautiously at Tänzer beside Lynn, seeing the young soldier still looking naive, he nodded slightly, "That one is real. The one in Berlin is fake!"
Just as he suspected!
After suppressing his doubts for so long, Lynn felt as though he had emerged from a long tunnel into the light of day, his mind suddenly clear. At that moment, Lieutenant Colonel Ziegenek also stepped down from the armored command vehicle. Mottke didn't say anything further, merely pretended to pull a cigarette case from his pocket, gave one to Lynn, but didn't ask Tänzer if he wanted one.
"We, the forgotten ones!" Ziegenek said in a strange tone as he approached Lynn's group, then added mysteriously, "If the submarines don't come, we'll collectively sacrifice ourselves here for the great Führer and the great Germanic people!"
"They should come!" Mottke said as if reassuring himself.
Ziegenek turned to the east, where the sun had risen, promising a clear day.
"Look at this beautiful world, it's such a pity that we'll be forgotten by this world!" Lynn was puzzled, "Sir, why do you say we'll be forgotten?"
But Ziegenek didn't answer directly. He looked out over the distant sea with a feeling of deep emotion, "In this cruel war, how many fallen soldiers have been hastily buried without leaving their names! If we disappear now, our families will only think we've been forever buried in the ruins of Berlin!"
Lynn had no response. When he turned to see the tanks and armored vehicles abandoned around the dock, he suddenly felt he understood Ziegenek's words. If Allied forces arrived here and saw the empty tanks and abandoned equipment scattered everywhere, they would be puzzled and struggle to find an answer, likely settling for a more acceptable explanation, even if it was far from the truth!
Following Lynn's gaze, Mottke also looked at the tanks, thinking Lynn was lamenting. He said, "In half an hour, General Wink's troops will come to take over these weapons!"
Lynn nodded, thinking it was a fitting end for them.
Fifteen minutes later, squadrons of Allied fighters appeared in the nearby airspace, seemingly seeking revenge for the morning's humiliation by the German war hawks. Surprisingly, German jet fighters boldly took to the sky to intercept, despite being outnumbered. They engaged in a fierce and spectacular aerial battle with the Mustangs, tenacious and daring. Watching the German pilots bravely maneuver their war hawks among the Allied formations, shooting down one enemy plane after another, until they themselves were hit, Lynn's mindset subtly changed. Most of the skyward aces were already gone, and now it was mostly inexperienced young pilots in the fray. But that wasn't the most important thing. What mattered was that everyone knew the situation was irreversible now, the downfall of the Empire was only a matter of time. Rather than despairing as it collapsed, it was better to shine brightly in its final moments.
Although the battle was intense, the outcome was predetermined. When the third jet fighter was shot down by the Allies, the German Luftwaffe's tenacious resistance collapsed. The last "swallow" retreated eastward alone, pursued relentlessly by a large group of Mustangs. Suddenly, several bright, sun-like orbs flew at high speed from the southeast. They didn't directly fire at the Allied aircraft or use brute force collision tactics. Instead, they approached unpredictably, sometimes near, sometimes far, suddenly appearing from the side or rear of the Mustangs, then climbing rapidly away. The formation of the Allied fighter planes became chaotic, and it was clear the pilots were terrified of these strange and elusive flying objects. Before long, most of the Mustangs turned back, with only a few still attempting to engage. However, these orbs seemed to see through people's minds, speeding eastward and leaving the clumsy Mustangs behind in the blink of an eye.
Although Lynn had previously witnessed flying saucers at a closer range, he was still dumbfounded. Weren't these descriptions just like those of UFOs by American pilots? It wasn't a product of tension-induced hallucinations; these unimaginable things had indeed existed and were closely related to the Third Reich!
Because Ziegenek was present, Lynn didn't ask Mottke, but silently held the question in his heart. Half an hour later, there was suddenly movement in the calm harbor. It was like a scene from a Caribbean pirate movie, with ghost ships emerging from the bottom of the sea. A pitch-black submarine emerged, followed by the appearance of crew members on the deck, and a small German Navy flag was raised at the rear of the conning tower.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone