Imperial Elite

Chapter 47 Paris

Chapter 47 Paris
Ah! If I had known something like this would happen, I should have had Rolls-Royce produce some more anti-aircraft vehicles using the Hound chassis!
Even if it's just for dealing with infantry, that would be great!

Joe never imagined that the journey, originally scheduled for six hours, would take more than four times the expected time and still not reach its destination.

Even shortly after their train left Reims, it was attacked by a Teutonic air raid.

Although the bombs dropped by the Teutonic bombers during this air raid did not hit the trains, or even the railway.

The bombs exploding on both sides of the tracks posed less of a threat to the train than the two dive-strikes by the fighter jets escorting the bombers.

Because the Hound tank has a commander's machine gun on its turret, and the Royal Fist MK-5 tank's 40mm cannon was originally designed for anti-aircraft use, and tank armor is certainly more bulletproof than the sheet metal of a train.

After the air raid, Joe had all the tank crew members, including himself, get into the tank.

Joe didn't expect to actually shoot down the Teutonic plane, but he at least wanted to retaliate and prevent the Teutons from launching attacks on the train at will.

At the same time, the dense barrage can also disrupt the flight path of bombers and reduce their bombing hit rate.

As it turned out, the effectiveness of using tanks for air defense was far greater than their deterrent effect. Although the concentrated firepower of the tanks successfully drove away the Teutonic aircraft that attempted to launch an attack during the second air raid.

The fighter jets that had previously dared to strafe the train only dared to circle around it this time, escorting the bombers back to base after the bombing ended, and did not strafe like before.

However, the good news ended there, apparently because during the second air raid, the Teutonic Air Force discovered that the train was loaded with high-value targets, including tanks.

As the train passed through Beauvais and was about to arrive in Paris, it encountered a massive air raid.

It seems that the scale of the Teutonic Air Force's operation was so large that it attracted the attention of the Gallic Air Force. When the Teutonic Air Force began bombing the train, the Gallic Air Force also joined the battle.

In an instant, the once tranquil sky was filled with the flames of tracer rounds, burning and crashing fighter jets, and barrages of anti-aircraft fire from the ground.

Ten minutes later, as the Teutonic bombers disappeared from the sky after dropping their bombs, the last Gallo fighter also left the airspace after flapping its wings once amidst the cheers of the Paris detachment soldiers.

At this moment, a dilemma arose for Joe: in the previous air raid, the Teutons had neither destroyed the railway nor the wagons carrying tanks and soldiers.

Under the interception of the Gallic Air Force, not a single bomb dropped by the Teutonic bombers landed near the railway. However, in the recent air battle, it is unclear whether it was the brave Gallic fighters or the Teutonic fighters that were trying to disperse the Gallic fighters.

In short, several bursts of bullets destroyed the steam pipes and valves at the front of the vehicle, as well as the water tank.

Although the damage wasn't enough to cripple the train, it significantly reduced its speed. After inspecting the locomotive, the conductor, with a tearful voice, told Joe, "This pipe can't be repaired without returning to the station, but with the pipe broken, the train can't move. I'm afraid we won't reach Paris before dark today!"

Although the train is running slow and may have to crawl all the way to Paris, the conductor said that they are now very close to Paris, with only 50 kilometers left.

Fifty kilometers is a very awkward distance for armored forces, because theoretically, Joe could have easily disembarked and walked to Paris.

Because Joe had requested a lot of trucks from the Cabinet at Downing Street, even the two Guards Grenadier companies that accompanied him had trucks to ride in after getting off the vehicles. In a sense, they had one foot in the door of motorization.

Even if there isn't enough room to sit, there are still a few people that can sit on the tank, so advancing with the infantry is not a problem.

However, given the current reliability of these tanks, Joe felt that if the armored forces were to advance fifty kilometers in off-road conditions, he would be lucky to have half of his tanks left by the time they reached Paris.

So, the question was whether to wait for the train to slowly carry him and allow the troops to crawl into Paris in their entirety, or to get off the train directly and allow the troops to reach Paris faster, even if it meant temporarily losing some vehicles.

Just as Joe was hesitating about what to choose, Jean-Pierre opened his eyes, looked at the unfamiliar ceiling in front of him, and after a few seconds, remembered that he was in a farm resisting a Teutonic attack. Jean-Pierre suddenly jumped out of bed.

"Report! What's the situation now?!"

However, after shouting this, Jean-Pierre suddenly felt dizzy. He quickly reached out and pressed his hand on the bed to steady himself. At the same time, a severe headache struck, making Jean-Pierre feel dizzy and his vision seemed strange.

It was only then that Jean-Pierre realized he was in an unfamiliar room. This was definitely not the farm he had been guarding before he lost consciousness; instead, it looked like a hospital ward.

Just as Jean-Pierre was struggling to steady himself, the door to the ward opened, and a man in a white coat walked in with two women in nurses' uniforms.

After seeing that Jean-Pierre had sat up in bed, the man in the white coat quickly walked to Jean-Pierre's side.

"Are you crazy, Captain?! You need to rest in bed right now! That shrapnel almost smashed your head open; you can't do any strenuous activity."

As he spoke, the man in the white coat tried to help Jean-Pierre to lie down on the bed.

Jean-Pierre waved his hand, refusing the doctor's offer to let him lie down and rest. After taking a deep breath, Jean-Pierre asked the doctor a question.

"Where am I now?"

“Val de Grasse Military Hospital, you are in Paris, Captain.”

Upon hearing that he was in Paris, Jean-Pierre immediately became anxious.

"How can I be in Paris?! I still have to fight the Teutons, lieutenant! Lieutenant!"

Seeing Jean-Pierre's anxiety, the doctor also became anxious. While holding Jean-Pierre down, he said to him, "Lie down! Captain! Lie down! You're missing an eye, you haven't adjusted yet, and your skull hasn't healed. Lie down now!" At the same time, he gestured to the nurse beside him, "Sedative! Quickly!"

"Don't give me a shot! I don't need a sedative right now!"

Just as Jean-Pierre was yelling, a man in cavalry uniform poked his head out of the ward, saw the nurse preparing an injection, and heard Jean-Pierre shouting that he didn't need an injection.

The cavalryman waved his hand and rushed into the ward with several other cavalrymen, stopping the nurse who was about to give Jean-Pierre an injection.

However, Jean-Pierre was even more excited after seeing these cavalrymen.

"What are you all doing here?! How did I end up in Paris?! We should be on the front lines right now!"

Upon hearing Jean-Pierre's roar, the leading cavalryman spoke to Jean-Pierre with a sob in his voice.

"Boss, we can't hold out any longer. After you were stunned by the shell, the Teutons launched two more attacks. Now there are only a few of us left in the whole company. We can only hold out for a few more minutes if we stay there."

Just as the cavalryman was explaining to Jean-Pierre with a sob in his voice, two gendarmes walked in.

The military police major who was leading the group looked Jean-Pierre up and down, sitting on the hospital bed, and then asked, "You are Jean-Pierre, Jean-Pierre Deschamps of the 7th Cavalry Division?"

Hearing the gendarme major's question, Jean-Pierre felt a surge of righteous anger. Damn it, I was prepared to die there! How did I become a deserter now?! I'd rather die at the hands of the Teutons than die a dishonorable deserter at the hands of the gendarmes!

Jean-Pierre forcefully broke free from the doctor and nurse holding him, struggled to stand up from the bedside, and said to the gendarme major in front of him, "I am Jean-Pierre Deschamps. Do not arrest me. I will return to the front lines to continue fighting now."

"Who said we were going to arrest you?"

After looking Jean-Pierre up and down, the military police major walked over to Jean-Pierre, raised his hand to untie Jean-Pierre's epaulets, and took his captain's epaulets off his shoulders.

Seeing the gendarme major remove his shoulder insignia, Jean-Pierre felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave. Being relieved of his officer duties was worse than being shot!

Just as the feeling of despair reached out like an icy hand from Jean-Pierre's stomach to his neck and grabbed his throat, the gendarme major pulled a pair of major's epaulets from his pocket and put them on.

"By order of the Commander-in-Chief of the Gallic Army, Captain Jean-Pierre Deschamps is hereby promoted to Major, and your unit is ordered to proceed immediately to the La Villette Park to rendezvous with the 1st Battalion of the 19th Legion of the National Guard of Paris, 19th Arrondissement of Paris."

The gendarme major stepped back and saluted Jean-Pierre.

"Congratulations, Major Jean-Pierre, you are now a battalion commander."

"and many more……"

Feeling no joy at the promotion and with a splitting headache, Jean-Pierre returned the salute to the gendarme major and asked him, "I've never heard of the Paris National Guard. What kind of unit is that?"

"how to say……"

Upon hearing Jean-Pierre's question, the gendarme major hesitated for a moment before speaking to Jean-Pierre.

"The Commander-in-Chief ordered all eligible men and women to enlist and take up arms to defend Paris. This is the Paris National Guard."

Upon hearing the gendarme major's words, Jean-Pierre felt his head throb even more.

At that moment, the doctor reacted and grabbed Jean-Pierre's arm.

"Your injuries haven't healed yet, you can't be discharged, you'll die!"

Jean-Pierre turned to look at the doctor.

“We’re all going to die sooner or later, and it’s better for me to die than for the Teutons to take over Paris.” Jean-Pierre reached out and patted the doctor’s hand.

"Thank you, doctor. You saved me from the clutches of death. Now it's my turn to save Paris from the Teutons."

After forcibly leaving the hospital with painkillers prescribed by the doctor.

Jean-Pierre, riding his horse through the streets of Paris, could hardly recognize the chaotic city.

At this time, the streets of Paris were filled with people carrying large bags and small suitcases, trying to leave Paris by car or bicycle.

The taxi drivers who once transported soldiers to the front lines at Verdun via the "Path of Glory" are now also preparing to leave, laden with luggage and citizens.

Unlike at the beginning of the war, this time the military police and police on the streets were using lists to stuff young women into prison vans that were used to hold criminals, under the guise of conscription.

Just like those women in the past, handing out white feathers to young men on the street to mock their courage and honor.

As Jean-Pierre rode past the policeman who was pinning down a blonde woman as she walked toward her car.

Seemingly noticing the major's rank on Jean-Pierre's shoulder, the blonde woman shouted at him, "Are you just going to stand by and watch? Are there no gentlemen left in Gaul? Are you just going to watch them treat a lady like this?!"

Jean-Pierre remained silent upon hearing the blonde's words. Instead, a cavalryman called out to the blonde in a somewhat mocking tone, "Madam, I know some of those gentlemen you're talking about, but they're all dead in Verdun now!"

"You! I'm a lady!"

"So now is your time to show your patriotism and the power of women!"

The cavalryman had just finished speaking.

"What's wrong with the lady?!"

The police officer escorting the blonde woman swung his baton and struck her, instantly silencing her. As he approached the transport vehicle and opened the door, he spoke.

"The Commander-in-Chief's order is that all eligible men and women must fight to defend Paris! If you resist service, you are a deserter! I could have shot you!"

After watching the policeman shove the blonde into the car, Jean-Pierre, without uttering a word, continued riding his horse with the last few survivors of his former cavalry company through the chaotic roads toward the Parc de la Villette in northeastern Paris.

Compared to the crowds around him carrying luggage and trying to flee Paris, Jean-Pierre's group was deathly quiet.

Jean-Pierre spoke for the first time while passing by a café.

"Let's stop here for a bit."

After saying that, Jean-Pierre dismounted and casually tied his horse to a roadside tree.

Just as Jean-Pierre tied his horse to the tree, a whistle rang out from the side.

An older-looking policeman blew his whistle, ran up to Jean-Pierre, saluted him, and then spoke to him.

"Major, horses cannot be tied up here."

Jean-Pierre nodded to the policeman.

"I know, but I just came back from the front lines and now I have to go back."

As he spoke, Jean-Pierre turned to look at the last few cavalrymen around him.

“My friends and I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to come back here. Many of them have never been to Paris before, so can we have a drink here?”

Seeing Jean-Pierre point to the café next door, the old policeman saluted Jean-Pierre and the cavalrymen in their tattered uniforms once again.

"Two drinks, and I'll stay here and watch over them for you."

Jean-Pierre and the cavalry returned the old policeman's salute and nodded gratefully.

Then we went into the coffee shop.

As Jean-Pierre pushed open the café door, he told the cavalrymen, “This is the oldest café in Paris. It has been in business since 1686. It is said that the Emperor, his generals, and the old guards used to dine here.”

The cavalrymen, covered in gunpowder smoke, entered the old and magnificent restaurant, immediately attracting the attention of everyone in the restaurant. A well-dressed waiter immediately walked over to Jean-Pierre.

"Two glasses of champagne each, the best of the best."

Before the waiter could speak, Jean-Pierre took out his wallet and tossed it to him, then led the cavalrymen to a booth and sat down.

Several cavalrymen, entering such a high-end place for the first time, were somewhat at a loss when faced with such a luxurious environment. They sat down on the leather sofa with great care, as if afraid of damaging it and having to pay for it.

Jean-Pierre, however, leaned back casually on the sofa and looked at his subordinates as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, I lost my composure at the hospital earlier, I was..."

Jean-Pierre gestured towards his head.

"My mind isn't quite clear."

Just as Jean-Pierre was speaking, a waiter brought several glasses of champagne to the booth.

"Sir, your champagne."

After placing the champagne on the table, the waiter returned Jean-Pierre's wallet to him in a low voice.

"Sir, thank you for your contribution. This champagne will be on our restaurant's behalf."

Upon hearing this, Jean-Pierre didn't hesitate to put his wallet back in his pocket and then picked up a glass of champagne.

"Before the war started, you all said that after the war was over, you would come to Paris to visit and have a cup of coffee in the best restaurant. Now is the time."

Jean-Pierre raised his glass of champagne.

"A tribute to those who were unable to come here."

Just as Jean-Pierre raised his glass, Holz looked at the road sign in front of him and scratched his head.

He turned and waved to his subordinate who knew some Gaulish.

"Hey, come here and see what this sign says."

The private who was eating bread quickly jumped off the carriage and jogged over to Holz, peering at the road sign.

"What does that sign say?"

The private rubbed his eyes.

"Hey, it says it's 26 kilometers from Paris."

"Twenty-six kilometers..."

Holtz turned and shouted to the Stormtroopers who were resting in the carriage.

"Twenty-six kilometers! We're now only twenty-six kilometers away from Paris!"