German Red Prince

"Hmm? What kind of work?" Fred asked, taking a sip of water.

"His Highness has approved the Stasi's armed forces and formed two new units, called Alpha and Signal Vympel. Let's train them."

August handed the report to Fred, sat down next to him, and lit a cigarette.

"After practicing for so long, it's finally time for us to train people," August said leisurely, crossing his legs.

"When will they arrive?"

"We've arrived, they're inside the barracks."

“Interesting. Let’s go take a look.” Fred stood up and blew the assembly whistle.

"Everyone assemble!"

They want to have some fun with those newbies.

Alpha and Signal Vympel were also selected from elites in various units, but compared to Red Right Hand, who had been training for so long, these people were still very inexperienced.

He wanted to show these people what a real elite force was like.

The Signal Flag and Alpha members were inside the barracks, unaware that they had been surrounded from the outside by the Red Right Hand.

These veterans should give a proper welcome to the new "cuties".

These two units were unaware that they had been targeted by the wolf cubs and were still standing there dumbfounded in their barracks.

Fred put on a gas mask and made a gesture to the people next to him. The team members who saw his gesture all grinned mischievously and put on gas masks as well.

The door was suddenly slammed shut, and tear gas was thrown in from outside—this was their welcoming ceremony.

The members of Alpha and Flag were caught off guard by this operation, and the smoke from the tear gas filled the entire room.

This is something that can make a person lose their mind in a short time. Its strong, pungent smell will stimulate your nerves. This smell penetrates your nasal mucosa and eyes, making you cry and have a runny nose. Once you encounter it, you will remember it forever and never want to come across it again.

Tear gas can unleash all your emotions, making your head feel like a lit fuse for a bomb, ready to explode at any moment!

The people inside were choked and dizzy, coughing violently, with snot streaming down their faces. They frantically rushed towards the door, trying to open it from the inside and escape.

"Cough, cough, cough, don't push! Don't push! Open the window!"

Someone inside shouted, trying to escape through the window, but unfortunately, even the window was sealed shut.

"We can't open the window! Break down the door! Quick! Everyone, break down the door together!"

A group of strong men stood at the front and finally managed to break the door open.

Seeing the door open, the people inside scrambled out. Fred, who had been waiting for them outside, waved to the people beside him as soon as they finally came out.

A person nearby raised a water gun and sprayed it at the person kneeling on the ground vomiting. Although the temperature had risen recently, being sprayed with this cold water was still unbearable for most people.

Sure enough, Alpha and Signal Flag, who were still kneeling on the ground vomiting, were sprayed together and huddled in a ball to prevent their body temperature from dropping too quickly.

Fred took off his gas mask, shook his head, and looked at the trembling soldiers.

"You guys are Alfa Romeo and Vympel? The Stasi's elite? Is this all you've got? Are you kidding me?"

Fred looked at his comrades beside him, and everyone burst into laughter.

"Stand up, all of you! Now!" He raised his gun and opened fire on the men.

"My God, live ammunition!"

The soldier huddled there was shocked. "How...how are we supposed to fire live ammunition like this?!"

"Let me tell you, war is no joke! You bunch of rookies are supposed to be the Stasi elite? Look at your performance just now! If this were a real battlefield, you would all be dead by now! It's laughable. I'm being lenient by the fact that no bullets hit you!"

Fred said coldly, "These people need to be properly trained; their current level is really too low."

The temperature outside was very low, and everyone stood on the open ground shivering. Their clothes were still wet, and the wind felt like knives cutting into them.

These men looked at Fred and his troops, who were speaking to them. It was a unit they had never seen before, dressed in strange clothes.

They were dressed entirely in black uniforms, wearing vests they had never seen before, with magazines and several grenades clipped to them. They also wore very special helmets with something that looked like binoculars on them.

In short, this unit seemed somewhat unrealistic, giving the impression that they did not belong to this era. Judging from their equipment, they were clearly the elite of the elite.

If Thorne were here, he would definitely be laughing triumphantly. This unit was subsidized by him selling his blood. They are armed to the teeth with completely modern equipment, all tactical gear specially supplied by Thorne.

Seeing that the crowd still seemed unconvinced, Fred decided to step in and teach them a lesson.

"You guys don't seem too convinced, do you think it's especially shameful that I ambushed you? Okay, are you all calmed down now? I'll give you a chance. Whoever has the best marksmanship, step forward!" Fred shouted to the crowd.

"report!"

One person stepped forward from the queue. Heinz Tolda had just covered his nose and rushed to the door when the gas was thrown in, so he was the least affected.

He was extremely indignant. How could they be called rookies? Those of them who were selected for Alpha and Phalanx were top performers in the military and respected in their respective units. How could they stand this insult?

"Okay, see that target? Let's have a contest. If I lose, I'll apologize to you."

Tolfart looked at the target thirty meters away; he could still reach it from that distance.

He took the pistol, stood there, aimed at the target, and held his breath.

"Oh!"

"Ten rings!" the observer shouted.

Thorvat smiled, glancing smugly at Fred. Just wait for his apology; he's an expert at shooting.

Seeing Torvat's expression, the special forces members beside him couldn't help but laugh to themselves. It seemed he hadn't seen it yet and didn't know just how strong their captain really was.

Fred smiled at his expression, cocked his pistol, and shouted to the observer, "Move the target to fifty meters!"

"Fifty meters?" Torvald could hardly believe his ears. This was the maximum effective range of a pistol. Had he gone mad? How could he possibly hit it?

However, Fred's next action surprised Torvald even more. He simply looked at the target in the distance and then closed his eyes!

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Fred fired three shots at the target in front of him.

"The first target is a ten! The second target is a nine! The third target is a ten!" the observer shouted.

Not only Torvat, but the other soldiers were also shocked. Hitting the bullseye at 30 meters was already impressive, but what kind of god was this? He could hit the bullseye with his eyes closed! And at 50 meters!

"August, tell them what my best score is."

"Report, Captain! Blindfolded pistol shooting! Sixty-five meters, a bullseye!" August shouted.

In this camp, these Alpha and Vympel recruits will soon understand what real training is and what true aces are!

Fred put away his pistol, patted Torvald on the shoulder, and looked at him with a smile.

"Newbies, you still have a lot to learn."

Chapter 50: You two got together too?

"Run! Run!"

Fred sat in the car, watching over Alpha and the Stasi from the back.

"Hurry up, you bunch of rookies!" August shouted, sounding somewhat excited. The task force soldiers sat in trucks, chasing after the main training force.

"Damn it, he can't even run as fast as my grandma!" August stood in front of the machine gun on the truck.

"Hurry up!" He pulled the trigger and began firing into the air.

“A bunch of, a bunch of lunatics!” Torvat said breathlessly to the person next to him.

"You, save your energy, there are still three kilometers to go." The person next to him had given up thinking and decided to save his energy for running.

They were running with 35 kilograms of weight on their backs, carrying heavy equipment, while the pursuers behind them were still firing. Everyone was exhausted.

"Enemy attack! Take cover!" Fred shouted through a megaphone.

The surrounding environment began to simulate artillery fire, with shells pelting down all around, causing the ground to tremble.

"Enemy attack! Take cover! Everyone take cover! Quickly!"

Some of the soldiers, already numb from running, hadn't even realized what was happening and were still running forward.

"August, drag those guys back here! Are they all in such a hurry to be reincarnated?!"

August and several men jumped out of the car and ran ahead. They kicked the soldiers who were numb from running to the ground, then grabbed one of them with each hand and dragged them backward.

"Still running! What are you running for! You think you're so brave, huh? You want me to give you a medal? Take cover when you hear shelling! Don't try to be a hero! Have you been a soldier all these years for nothing?!"

August dragged them to the back of the line. "Now crawl! Crawl over there!"

The group of people have all become obedient now, slowly crawling forward and crossing the blocked area.

August just dragged one person with one hand. The weight of these soldiers, plus all the equipment they were carrying, must have been at least 200 pounds.

August and his men were able to carry one person with each hand, which shows just how strong they were.

Some people were unconvinced before, but now they have all been completely subdued. They couldn't even last two rounds against those people.

Thorvat lay on the ground, watching those people being dragged so far, while August didn't even catch his breath.

He knew that as long as he passed the test here, he would be completely transformed.

"Climb quickly! Get through here fast!"

Thorvat heard August shouting from behind; he had just dragged several of the slower climbers back to the starting point.

To avoid distracting himself, Thorvat counted the shelling shots one by one. He felt nauseous, completely exhausted, and his vision was blurring.

Keep running! Keep running! Who told you to stop?!

He had just run through the restricted area and hadn't even caught his breath when Fred shouted from behind.

"Keep running! We haven't reached the finish line yet! Who told you to stop!"

Thorvat could only grit his teeth and keep running forward. There were more and more obstacles ahead, including a minefield. He was so tired that he could barely lift his hands, yet he still had to dismantle the minefield.

"Enemy reconnaissance! Take cover! Quickly, get disguised!"

Upon hearing this, the soldiers wading through the puddles immediately took cover. "Quickly, lie down in the puddles! Hurry!"

The water temperature was now close to freezing, and they were completely submerged. Torvat covered himself with some grass and wood, and held his hands tightly to his chest. The warmth in his hands was the only thing he could feel at the moment.

"Get down quickly! Are you going to just stand there and wait to die on the battlefield because of the cold water?!" August shouted from above the water pit.

"Stay put for thirty minutes! Lie down properly!"

These people lay there in the puddle, frozen like babies.

For fledgling eagles to take flight, they must undergo rigorous training. The Alpha and Signal Flag, which instill fear in all enemies, are still growing.

“Alright, August, you keep training them. I’m leaving.” Fred glanced at his watch; it was time for him to go.

“Yes, Captain.” Augus lit a cigarette and gave Fred a meaningful smile. “Give my regards, Captain.”

Fred was too lazy to complain anymore, waved to him and left.

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"I have seen various nations hostile to each other, and silently, ignorantly, foolishly, willingly, and innocently killing one another. I have seen the world's most brilliant minds inventing weapons and writing articles to make this hostility and killing more ingenious and enduring."

"We are no longer young. We no longer want to conquer the world. We are deserters. We are running away from ourselves and from life. We were only eighteen, just beginning to love the world and love life, but we were forced to fire on it all. The first grenade, the first attack, hit our hearts. We severed ties with action, pursuit, and progress. We no longer believe in any of this: we only believe in war."

Thälmann put down the Rheinische Zeitung and sighed. The novel serialized in the newspaper, All Quiet on the Western Front, had deeply moved him.

He had also been on the battlefield, spent several years in the quagmire of the Western Front, and even received a medal from the Kaiser. But why did he fight this war?

Newspapers and radio stations alike were glorifying the war, portraying it as romantic and idealistic, like a duel between gentlemen, thus inciting civilian children to the battlefield.

On the battlefield, everyone was barely clinging to life, their bodies mangled beyond recognition. Soldiers with their skulls blown off lay silently in the mud, while others with their legs blown off screamed in agony, crawling desperately forward on their hands to find a medic.

In order to survive and avoid excessive blood loss, some soldiers even bit down on the arteries in their blown-out arms for two whole hours.

As the sun sets, a terrible night descends, enveloping the earth, and artillery shells begin their frenzied roar and howl once more. War is purgatory, and perhaps this is already close to the very edge of life.

The private on the emergency room bed held his hands full of intestines that had fallen out of his stomach, desperately trying to stuff them back in, because the rats hiding in the corner would eat them up at night.

Those wounded who were missing mouths, disfigured, or without ears and noses continued to live, bravely and painfully sustaining their lives.

This is war. Behind every victory report received by the Kaiser were thousands upon thousands of people who fell on the battlefield.

The cold data on the battle reports are all vivid lives; they may be the son of a mother or the father of a daughter.

Now that victory is achieved, the Kaiser has won. Yes, the Kaiser has won. The victory in the war has brought him immense prestige and fame, allowing him to disregard his past promises without hesitation. Post-war reforms? Economic recovery? Popular democracy? Minimum welfare guarantees?

Come on, Germans, you've already won, what do you need all this for? The German people were ruthlessly played by the Kaiser. They sent their children to the battlefield for the Kaiser's desires, letting the war machine devour their flesh and blood, and in the end, they gained nothing.

This book, "All Quiet on the Western Front," can be said to have touched Thälmann's heart. Through the description of the fates of these people, it launched a fierce critique of the Kaiser and fired on this decaying fortress!