German Red Prince

Fremont was surprised to see such a lavish meal. When he was in the orphanage, even on Christmas, he only received an extra sausage.

Like the other children, he sat down somewhat awkwardly, picked up his spoon, and only started eating after seeing that Robert didn't react and was still smiling at them.

Even after finishing his meal and lying on the soft bed, Fremont felt like he was dreaming.

"Father."

Thorne bowed to Otto, who patted Thorne on the shoulder as he approached.

“I heard that someone tried to assassinate Andreas in Mainz. Luckily you got there in time. I saw Albrecht was quite badly injured today and he hasn’t woken up yet, but thankfully his life isn’t in danger. These terrorists are getting more and more brazen.” Prince Otto sighed after saying this; these terrorists were giving him a real headache lately.

“Father, I have an idea.”

Thorne explained his idea of ​​forming a force to defend against these terrorist groups. This force would consist of elite soldiers whose primary tasks would be dealing with violent incidents in special circumstances, handling counter-terrorism operations and internal security activities, and carrying out unconventional special missions.

"Looks like you know your stuff. Your trip to Poland was worthwhile; you learned a lot." Prince Otto looked at Thorne, who was speaking eloquently, with an appreciative gaze.

Thorne's heart suddenly tightened. He mustn't let the prince see through him; how would he explain if he slipped up? This prince had been a nobody before, but ever since he returned from Poland, he was like a completely different person, with all sorts of legendary stories unfolding around him.

“Perhaps this is what growing up is like.” Prince Otto stood up. “When Charlemagne was young, he was also unknown. There was only one legend in the whole European continent, Napoleon. Who could have imagined that he would later defeat Napoleon and establish the Kingdom of the Rhine?”

"Thorne, do whatever you want. Didn't you save so many people in the movie theater? I believe you have the ability. Pick the soldiers yourself. I'm waiting to see your unit."

Otto smiled at Thorne again, "Let's go, today is the Navy Festival, let's see if you can find the person you want at the festival."

Thorne followed Otto into the palace. A naval banquet was in progress, and Thorne saw many big shots, such as Lindemann and Lütjens. In a corner, a young man was observing the surroundings.

"Heydrich?"

It seems there's no escaping it, Thorne thought. But that's perfect; he needs someone like this to help him right now.

He walked toward Heydrich, who was standing in the corner. "Hello, Mr. Heydrich."

"You know my name?"

Heydrich recognized Thorne as the young man he had tried to meet on the street a few days ago. He hadn't expected that Thorne would actually be the second prince of the Kingdom of Rhine.

"Reinhard Tristan Eugen Heydrich was born on March 7, 1904, in Halle, Lower Saxony. He later joined the Rhine Navy and completed his petty officer course in July 1923 while training on the destroyer 'Frankfurt'."

"You have performed very well in the Navy. You were promoted to ensign in 1926. You are passionate about sports, have excellent swordsmanship, and are fluent in English, French, and Russian. Am I right, Mr. Heydrich?"

Heydrich was taken aback after hearing Thorne's words.

"Your Highness, are you investigating me?"

"I'm a bit socially awkward. I want to make friends, but I'm too shy to ask, so I can only investigate secretly."

Thorne smiled. He didn't know Heydrich's attitude yet. This guy was a blond beast. If you wanted to keep him in check, you had to show him your superiority.

“Let’s be friends.” Thorne raised his glass.

"cheers."

Heydrich also raised his glass; he was a smart man and understood Thorne's meaning.

Are you interested in working for me?

"It is my great honor, Your Highness."

Heydrich smiled and saluted. To be honest, he didn't like naval life. He knew he didn't belong in the navy. While learning radio on a warship, he finally found his place. He wanted to demonstrate his abilities on a broader platform.

“If you’ve figured it out, go find Thomas.” Thorne handed him a slip of paper. Heydrich took the slip, memorized the address, and put the slip away.

"Your Highness, I will be there soon."

Thorne looked at the crowd celebrating at the dinner party, then glanced at Heydrich.

“Very good, friend, welcome to the Stasi.”

Chapter 41 Charlemagne Military Academy

The Charlemagne Military Academy was established at the behest of Charlemagne.

This is the largest military academy in the entire Kingdom of the Rhine and one of the most famous military schools in Germany. It was founded in 1812, and its motto is: Duty and Honor.

The college is located in the south of Frankfurt, occupying a prime location in the south. The area is scenic, tranquil, and offers an ideal learning environment.

It was winter, and the temperature was quite low. It had snowed a few days ago, and ice crystals still clung to the branches. The cathedral was not far away, and the long, melodious chimes could be heard ringing out at regular intervals.

In the heart of the academy, the majestic bronze statue of King Charlemagne stands silently gazing at the Main River in the distance. After his death, he was buried in Valhalla within the academy, where he rests alongside the spirits of those who sacrificed themselves to defend the Kingdom of the Rhine, guarding the entire kingdom.

This is the source of the sacred fighting spirit in the hearts of all the soldiers in the kingdom; it is their faith.

The academy ranks third among the world's top five military academies and is known as the "Eagle's Nest of the Kingdom," a place where fledgling eagles grow. The first place undoubtedly belongs to the Berlin Military Academy; countless wars have solidified its supreme status.

The reason why the People's Defence Military University (formerly the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst) ranks higher than Charlemagne Military Academy is simply because it was the oldest of these schools and has a longer history.

The academy excels in military education, having cultivated countless outstanding talents and attracting elites from all over the world to pursue their dreams. As a result, many excellent freshmen apply every year.

This place has not only nurtured countless outstanding commanders, but also cultivated countless exceptional soldiers.

At the same time, the academy is not only for training officers and soldiers. It offers a wide variety of subjects, including mechanical design, weaponry, shooting skills, and many other courses. There are also frequent combat assessments, which are very important for the students.

Model was lured from the Berlin Military Academy by Thorne to serve as the grade head, teaching students some military theory and common sense.

During his time teaching at the Charlemagne Military Academy, he had clearly felt the difference between here and Berlin.

In Berlin, the courses taught in schools are all directly issued by the General Staff. Those old fogies are clinging to outdated methods, gradually becoming conservative and corrupt, and unable to extricate themselves from dogmatism.

But here he didn't feel that suffocating, oppressive atmosphere at all; the atmosphere at the academy was particularly relaxed, and the academic environment was free. Although the academy was directly governed by the Military Council of the Kingdom of Rhine, the council had not interfered excessively with the academy's curriculum.

"Let a hundred schools of thought contend, let a hundred flowers bloom."

This is a motto written by Charlemagne when he founded the school; the sparks of thought generated by the collision of countless different theories are the most precious.

Military theory is the kind of thing that cannot stagnate or be bound by dogma; it must be constantly innovated to avoid being eliminated by the times.

Model was also deeply impressed by Charlemagne, this extraordinary man who had appeared out of nowhere, especially after he saw the famous quote engraved in every classroom.

"Despise the enemy strategically, but take the enemy seriously tactically."

This statement perfectly summarizes the qualities a commander should possess: strategic contempt for the enemy on a macro level, and vigilance and cautious handling on a micro tactical level.

As a commander, to effectively lead and direct the overall battlefield situation, one must first maintain high morale and confidence, be indomitable, and remain calm. Only in this way can one dare to fight the enemy and avoid overestimating the enemy's strength and becoming pessimistic, disappointed, or stagnant when facing temporary difficulties.

At the same time, one must not be overconfident or underestimate the enemy; one must have the caution befitting a commander. Taking the enemy seriously tactically is the only realistic guarantee of victory; one must not underestimate the enemy excessively and must prevent complacency and underestimation of their strength.

In every specific struggle, we must adopt a cautious attitude, pay attention to the art of struggle, maintain a clear mind, avoid recklessness, and defeat the enemy in one fell swoop in key battles.

“It seems that the Kingdom of the Rhine has been surpassing Prussia in every aspect in recent years,” Model sighed.

The age of the senior officers best reflects the difference between the two kingdoms. The average age of the marshals of Prussia was around eighty, while the average age of the marshals of the Rhine Kingdom was only sixty. The youngest of them, Marshal Schulz, was promoted after the Polish campaign and was only in his forties.

Young officers are now taking on key roles, and most of the high-ranking officers are not from noble families; they earned their positions entirely through their own abilities.

In Berlin, the competition was still about seniority, and the old nobles looked down on officers of commoner descent. A comparison between the two kingdoms immediately revealed the superiority of one.

Model had just finished class and was coming out of the classroom when he saw Guderian, who was also leaving class.

Heinz.

Model greeted Guderian, who turned around and saw Model walking towards him.

"Walter? You're here too."

Guderian was also somewhat surprised. He had read Model's article when it was published in the magazine, and it was also a very novel tactic.

They had talked, and the two hit it off very well, their theories clashing sharply. One was an offensive vanguard, the other a defensive master; they often practiced together, and over time they developed a mutual respect.

“You were also recruited by Prince Thorne, right?” Model patted Guderian on the shoulder.

"It seems His Highness Thorne offered a condition you couldn't refuse, otherwise why would he have invited you here?"

He knew Guderian's character well; as an officer born into a traditional military family, he had a strong sense of honor. Unless offered some enticing conditions, he would absolutely not agree to such a change of military rank.

"Alas, Prince Thorne, he knows all too well what I want." Guderian shook his head helplessly. Every word Thorne said had struck a chord with him, and he had been fooled just like that.

"By the way, how's your student coming along?" Model changed the subject and asked Guderian.

"You mean Hannah? This young girl is exceptionally talented. I'm certain that within twenty years, she will become an Imperial Marshal."

"so smart?"

Model was somewhat incredulous. Was this commoner girl really that talented? To actually be praised by Guderian.

“I happen to have a student myself, and I believe that he will become an imperial marshal in less than twenty years. Why don’t we have a competition to see who teaches better?”

Model smiled. Dudman was now his prized student, and his comprehension was exceptionally high. It was said that he and Hannah were in a relationship; a competition between the two of them would be incredibly interesting.

Hearing Model's words, Guderian also became interested. "I'm not afraid of you. Let's go and call Dudman and Hannah. Those two will definitely be together. Let's see who's better."

At that moment, Dudman was teaching Hannah how to shoot at the firing range. Hannah was born a commoner and had never received formal military training. In the future, she would be fighting for real on the battlefield, and if anything happened to her, she would be finished.

"Place your thumb and forefinger firmly against the upper part of the handlebar backplate, and remember to align them."

"Grip the handle firmly with your other three fingers, and once you've gripped it, you should feel a natural upward push between your thumb and forefinger. Extend your right hand straight out, separate your left and right hands, and press your left hand down so it's pressed against the gun."

"Push forward with your right hand and pull back with your left hand, applying slight force. Move your right hand to the left and your left hand to the right, clamping the gun between them, and take a deep breath."

Dudman gave quiet instructions from the side, and Hannah adjusted her posture and aimed at the target in front of her according to his instructions.

"Stand firm, you must stand firm, hold your breath."

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Three shots rang out. Dudman looked at the target in the distance. Good heavens, two shots missed the target, and one shot went to the next one.

Hannah looked at Dodman somewhat embarrassedly. This was her first time handling a gun, so it was normal that she missed.

"It's a pity Fred isn't here. If he were, that would be great," Dudman thought to himself.

"Oh!"

"Beat the target! A perfect 10!" shouted the trainer beside him.

"Ah."

Fred sneezed as he climbed out of the snow, his white cloak blending him seamlessly into the surroundings.

"Looks like I've caught a cold, this is really awful." He touched his nose and waved behind him.

"Get up, everyone. Training is over for today."

After he finished speaking, a large number of people suddenly appeared from different places. You would never have noticed that there were people hiding here. These people were all elites handpicked by the entire army, and they were currently undergoing the special training that Thorne had described.

"Stand still, aim," Dudman said, grasping Hannah's hand and beginning to instruct her.

“Aim, aim,” Dudman whispered in Hannah’s ear. He was intently focused on the target in front of him, and Hannah could hear his steady breathing.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Three more shots were fired, and this time it was much better than the last: two shots hit the bullseye and one shot hit the bullseye.

“Great, give it another try,” Dudman encouraged Hannah.

Hannah gradually mastered the technique, steadying her breathing and aiming at the target.

"Oh!"

"Cool! A 10! My God, Hannah, you're amazing!" Dudman exclaimed.

After training ended, Dudman cautiously extended an invitation, "Um, how about we go for a walk?"

“Okay, let’s go.” Hannah took Dudman’s hand and walked outside.

"Oh, looks like we've done something bad again."

Model looked at Dudman and Hannah as they came out and smiled at Guderian.

"Hello teacher!"

Upon seeing Guderian and Model, the two quickly released their hands, stood at attention, and saluted.

“It seems we’ve come at the wrong time,” Guderian laughed.

"No, no, no, teacher, let me explain." Hannah quickly waved her hand at Guderian.

“I know, I know, I understand.” Guderian looked at Hannah with the air of someone who had been through it all. “You little rascal, you’re quite clever.”

"Are you free now? We're here to check on your studies." After the teasing, Model got down to business; they were there to see the abilities of their two beloved students.

"Of course I'm free, teacher."

“Then come with us.” Guderian waved to them and led them into the tactical simulation room.

"Dudman, you have to show your true skills. Don't go easy on her just because she's a girl," Model said to Dudman.