artillery arc

Chapter 564 So, the regiment chose to live

December 915, 12, Headquarters of the Sixth Army.

All the middle and senior officers who had not fallen ill gathered at General Frederick's window.

"General," the admiral's adjutant hesitated as he spoke, looking back at the others, and then frightened by everyone's gazes, he immediately turned back, "General, our non-combat casualties are now as high as 50%. When we handed over the seriously ill to the Ants, many people simply surrendered and ran to the Ants' side."

General Frederick sighed, sat up—and then almost lay back down. The intense dizziness caused by lack of blood in his brain cut off all his thoughts.

The adjutant stepped forward and supported him: "General!"

"I'm fine." Frederick waved his hand. "So you're here to persuade me to surrender?"

Adjutant: "Do you still think we can resist?"

In the history of the Earth, the Sixth Army had enough strength to break out. After all, the Russians on Earth suffered too great losses, resulting in uneven quality of soldiers. Many of the troops in Operation Uranus were mostly recruits, and their combat experience and morale were far behind those of the Three Dezi.

And the condition of Earth’s Sixth Army is not that bad.

But the situation of the Plosson Sixth Army was completely different. The Ante troops they faced had a large number of surviving veterans, and the troops that were encircling them had a large number of guard prefixes. The veterans had experienced the baptism of war and were experienced. At the same time, they had a blood feud with the Plosson people and vowed to bury all of them.

The Sixth Army was in a serious shortage of ammunition and supplies before being surrounded, and it quickly ran out of ammunition and food after being surrounded.

Frederick didn't know what was happening in another time and space, but he was very clear about the situation of his own troops.

Breaking out is no longer possible, and there are only two options left: death or surrender.

The general glanced at the officers and thought that they didn't look like they were willing to sacrifice their lives.

Adjutant: "General, we have fought until the last moment. We were still trying to attack until we were surrounded. We have done enough for the Empire."

General: "If we surrender, what will Rokossov's millions of troops do when they suddenly have nothing to do? Have you ever thought about it?"

"That has nothing to do with us now," the adjutant said. "Our war is over."

The general started coughing, and the adjutant hurried forward and patted him on the back.

After dozens of seconds, Frederick finally stopped and took a long breath. Then he looked at his adjutant and said, "Do you remember the day you became my adjutant? Your father and your wife accompanied you to visit me."

"remember."

Frederick: "Your father also wore the old military uniform of his time and his rank of brigadier general. Your wife wore a blue dress and held your hand."

The adjutant looked puzzled: "That... yes, General, that was seven years ago."

"Have you ever thought about what will happen to them if we surrender? The Imperial Household Ministry will not let them go. They will be regarded as traitors and traitors to their country!"

The adjutant was speechless for a moment, but one of the officers behind him said, "We surrendered only when we had no choice but to fight to the end. If the emperor uses this matter to embarrass our relatives, he will lose the loyalty of the officers. I don't think your majesty will do this."

General Frederick looked at the person who spoke: "Yeah, maybe not."

At this moment, the sound of an engine suddenly came from outside.

Frederick turned his head and looked out the window in confusion: "What's going on? Do we still have tanks that can be started?"

"It sounds like an airplane," the adjutant said. "The engine sound has a clear Doppler effect. It's approaching us quickly."

At this time, a soldier came in from outside the door: "Report, the air defense surveillance post saw a reconnaissance plane of our army flying at a very low altitude, and it is flying towards the headquarters."

Everyone looked at each other.

Frederick lifted the quilt and said, "Let's go and take a look."

Because it was too cold, he wore his military uniform under his quilt, and staying in bed for several days caused the uniform to be wrinkled all over.

The adjutant hurriedly took the coat and put it on the general.

The general, who had just recovered from a serious illness, walked very fast, without even buttoning his coat, and just walked out of the door, standing in the snow and looking up.

In the middle of the day, in the middle of nowhere.

The sound of the plane's engine became clearer, coming from the west.

Finally, an FW189 appeared in everyone's sight and dropped a "bomb".

The adjutant rushed forward to tackle the general, but was shouted back by the general: "Don't be nervous! The high command will not send the FW189 to drop precision bombs just to kill us."

The "bomb" just landed on the ground and disappeared into the snow.

Frederick: "Quick, dig it out!"

Several guards who were still able to move rushed forward with engineering shovels, and after some digging, they finally dug out something that looked like an auxiliary fuel tank from the snow pit.

Frederick: "Open it!"

"No screwdriver!" the soldier reported loudly.

"Go to the anti-aircraft gun position and get it! They are out of ammunition, but there are still screwdrivers to repair the anti-aircraft guns!" General Frederick raised his voice by an order of magnitude.

A soldier waded through the snow and ran out of the yard.

Ten minutes later, the auxiliary fuel tank was opened. The first thing that came into view was a marshal's scepter with the "Imperial Eagle" on its head reflecting the sunlight.

Next to the scepter is a "letter of appointment" with a gold-plated cover and a letter with the royal seal of Plossom printed on the wax seal.

The soldiers did not dare to take these things, so they opened the "auxiliary fuel tank" and stood back.

The adjutant picked up these things and came to General Frederick: "General... no, Marshal, look at this..." Marshal Frederick did not touch the marshal's baton, but took the letter, roughly opened the envelope, took out the letter and unfolded it, and read softly: "Dear teacher Wilhelm von Frederick, I still remember clearly that when I was at the Plossen Military Academy, you were my infantry tactics instructor, and your exquisite understanding of the art of war intoxicated me.

"Although you are now in prison, I firmly believe in your qualities and honor as a Plosson soldier. I know that you must be coerced by those cowards in the army, but you must also be aware that if you make the wrong choice at this time, the Plosson motherland will suffer a heavy blow and may even lead to the destruction of the country.

"Today, more than ever, the Fatherland needs each of his sons to fulfill their duties. Respectfully presented by Emperor Reinhard of Plosson."

Marshal Frederick sighed and handed the letter to his chief of staff.

The chief of staff glanced at the letter without reading it carefully, and said, "The wording is very harsh. It's clear that they want us all to die."

Frederick took up the marshal's baton and played with it in his hands.

"I...had always wanted this. Of course, as a soldier, who doesn't want to be a marshal?" Frederick smiled self-deprecatingly, "I never dreamed that I would get the coveted scepter under such circumstances."

The army chief of staff smiled and said, "After all, you have achieved your goal. You have reached the pinnacle of your military career..."

"No, the pinnacle of a military career is winning a war." Frederick tapped his palm with his cane, "not like this."

Silence fell, the officers looked at each other, and the soldiers who were forced to participate in this matter could only stand there awkwardly.

Finally, Marshal Frederick seemed to have made up his mind and said to his adjutant: "Your wife and father will not be retaliated by the Imperial Household Ministry, because I will take the responsibility for the defeat like a responsible and honorable soldier. Chief of Staff, send an envoy to the Ants to say that we agree to surrender."

The officers all showed expressions of relief, but the soldiers dared not show any expression.

Frederick continued to tap his palm with the marshal's staff: "I will bear all the consequences alone."

----

12 month 8 day.

Wang Zhong stood on May 5th Street, waiting for the agreed time to arrive.

All the Proson soldiers within his highlighted range had lost their will to fight and were all identified as being in a neutral state.

Soon, he noticed a group of senior officers walking towards him on foot, led by one holding a white flag.

Wang Zhong: "They didn't even raise their white shorts."

Pavlov: What?

"I mean the soldiers coming out of that building over there."

A group of Proson soldiers came out of the building tremblingly, holding white sheets, placed their weapons in designated locations, and then ran towards the rice pot impatiently.

At this time, a familiar face suddenly appeared and flashed a flashlight at the surrendering Proson soldiers. The "explosion" of the flashlight made many Proson soldiers lie down reflexively, and the bread in their hands was stuck in the snow.

Wang Zhong frowned and turned to look for another familiar face, only to see reporter Mike walking towards him with a smile.

"I thought you guys wouldn't be absent."

Mike smiled and said, "I missed it when you personally commanded the new tanks to send the Proson stronghold into the sky. I don't want to miss this big news again. Three hundred thousand Proson soldiers surrendered!"

Wang Zhong: "According to the establishment, it is 650,000. Yesterday, the Prosen people submitted their complete troop establishment table, and the total establishment written on it is 650,000.

“In fact, there are about 200,000 people who will surrender today. Adding the 200,000 people who surrendered before, the losses of the Prosen people are also quite large.

"I just don't know how much of this is General Dong's victory."

"These are your achievements. All of them." Reporter Mike said with a smile.

Wang Zhong: "You are still so good at talking."

Mike: "Of course. By the way, can my partner capture a historic moment today? A Marshal Plossen surrendering to the Ante army?"

Wang Zhong raised his eyebrows. In fact, he had already seen through the plug-in that Marshal Frederick was not among the officers who came, but at this time he could only continue to pretend: "I hope so. Then I want to drink a cup of wine with Marshal Frederick on the battlefield."

Mike: "Like naval officers in the era of sailing ships? Good, this theme will be popular."

Wang Zhong: "Then you have to thank me."

----

Frederick sat at his desk, looking at the picture of his wife and daughter, and the marshal's baton.

The loaded Ruger was already on the table.

As long as he, the marshal, committed suicide and died for his country, the Imperial Household Ministry would not hold the Sixth Army accountable for surrendering. This was the last thing he could do for the Sixth Army.

"But," Frederick gently stroked his wife's cheek in the photo, "but this decision is so difficult, Erica. You have no idea how much I miss you."

He sighed, turned the photo upside down on the table, picked up the pistol, and put the muzzle into his mouth.

When I pulled the trigger, nothing happened.

Frederick carefully checked the condition of the gun and finally believed that there was a problem with the bullet.

He ejected the stink bullet, reloaded, and tried to put the gun in his mouth - but this time he hesitated.

After a long silence, Frederick turned back to the photo of his wife and daughter and threw the gun into the drawer.

He stood up and shouted outside: "Quick! Go and inform the surrender delegation that I am waiting for Admiral Rokossov to arrive at the headquarters! I must surrender at my headquarters! After all, I am a marshal!"

(End of this chapter)