Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

If this is the enemy's tactic, then he can just wait it out. As a veteran, he still has that much patience.

……

Berlin was engulfed in a hellish inferno, with little to report. Having witnessed countless artillery barrages for so long, all that met the numb eyes and ears was explosions, collapses, and destruction. That was the state of things for now.

So, let's turn our attention to a place 220 kilometers southwest of Berlin for now.

……

Where is this? It's called Erfurt, a city in central Germany with a population of 16 at the time. It wasn't very big, but it wasn't small either.

What's particularly noteworthy is that from the outbreak of World War II until its occupation by American soldiers in April 1945, only a very small number of houses were damaged during this period. By July, the Yankee soldiers had left, and the area ultimately became Soviet territory.

A train pulled into a cluster of buildings on the railway line heading towards Berlin. The area around the tracks was unusually quiet and peaceful; the houses were intact, the streets were clean, and you could even hear children playing and laughing with adults. Then, comparing Frankfurt and Berlin in my mind—both hometowns of many Germans, both survivors of war…

Perhaps this is a blessing bestowed upon this city by heaven.

Looking up at the sky, you can see four fighter jets flying in formation, circling above Erfurt—their white coats are American P-51 fighters, which have been ordered to enter Soviet airspace to escort this military train.

Meanwhile, several other fighter jets clad in green can be seen loitering far away from the P-51 formation. Who these aircraft belong to and what their purpose is are probably unnecessary to elaborate on.

Now, the train painted with white five-pointed stars has slowly pulled into the train station, seemingly preparing to stop and do something.

After the train came to a stop, several American soldiers jumped off the last few flatbed carriages where the vehicles were placed and walked towards the front of the train.

One of them looked very familiar.

"Well, what a terrible shuttle bus experience."

"That's all for now. We'll sit down and chat again sometime, Sergeant Campbell."

"no problem."

Several soldiers looked around the platform. A dozen Soviet soldiers, rifles at the ready, stared at the group disembarking from the train with a mixture of surprise and wariness. After glancing at them a few times, then turning to look at the last flatbed carriage, badly damaged beyond recognition, it was hard to imagine what had happened to this train before it departed.

……

Just then, a Soviet soldier in the distance seemed to notice something noteworthy besides the bullet holes and damage—on the third to last carriage, there was an armored vehicle he had never seen before, and something covered by a dark canvas. Judging from its appearance, it didn't look like a cannon, a tank, or a truck.

He turned and whispered a few words to the comrade next to him, then turned and walked towards the room inside the train station.

……

"Hey! Where did you get off?!" came a shout in English from the front of the train.

Three men wearing U.S. military police helmets were walking towards Jonathan and his group.

"Sorry! We bought 'flatbed tickets'! Is it comfortable to buy seats in front like the officers, buddy?"

“'Plate'?” The military police seemed to understand. “Well, I’m glad you’re still alive, gentlemen.”

"I appreciate your kind offer, but could you please explain why we stopped?"

"The stoker said the coal is almost gone, and we're replenishing it at this station. The officer told us to call the soldiers in each carriage so they can take care of anything that needs to be done."

"You guys better stop wandering around aimlessly and hurry up and find your team."

"OK, OK."

At this moment, the doors of several boxcars opened, and a few soldiers got out, covering their groins with their hands. After looking around, they ran towards the edge of the platform.

"Hey! Boss!—"

Looking in the direction of the sound, Private Tommy was gripping the carriage door with one hand and waving the other hand vigorously toward him.

"Boss!—"

The sergeant smiled and watched as Tommy's slightly overweight body jumped to the ground and ran towards him like a madman.

"Ah! Boss!" The private hugged the sergeant like a big bear.

"We all thought it was you! Oh, you're alright! Damn it!"

"Alright, stop crying like a little bitch!" Jonathan patted Tommy on the back of the head. "Even the German Tiger tanks couldn't take me down, look at you, you idiot, getting scared like this!"

"Ah, okay! Okay!" Tommy finally let go of her arm and wiped his face with his hand. "Let's go! Let's talk to Carl and the others!"

……

At that moment, the Soviet soldier who had gone inside earlier slowly walked back to the platform, glanced coldly at the American soldiers who were getting off the train to use the restroom, and then quietly walked to the back of the train.

He jumped down from the platform and stood in front of the carriage carrying the strange thing, craning his neck to see what was wrapped under the canvas.

Seemingly unnoticed, he grew bolder, climbed onto the carriage, drew his rifle bayonet, and prepared to cut the straps securing the canvas.

"Hey! You!" He suddenly heard a shout in English—an American soldier with a gun on his back was running towards him.

He couldn't understand what the soldier was saying, nor did he want to. He quickly cut the strap, grabbed the canvas, and prepared to rip the thing away.

Just then, the soldier ran up to his feet, jumped up, grabbed his belt, and yanked him off the train!

"Ah!" A scream rang out as the Soviet soldier, along with the corner of the canvas he was still clutching, collapsed onto the ground like a toppled tent.

……

But at that very moment, the Soviet soldiers on the platform immediately changed their expressions, raised their rifles, aimed at the American who had started the fight, and loudly ordered him to drop his weapon in his native language.

"Не двигайся! (Don't move)"

“Руки вверх! (Hands up!)”

The American soldier paused for a moment, glanced at the resurfaced object on the train carriage, and then turned around to see more than a dozen Soviet soldiers carrying guns running out of the building behind the train and lining up on the platform, aiming at him.

"What... what do you bunch of sons of bitches want to do?" The soldier felt a little guilty and slowly raised his hands.

The other American soldiers who were lingering in front of their respective carriages could no longer sit still upon seeing this.

"Sons of Bitches!"

"Get down your weapons! Asshole!"

They, too, picked up their guns again in large groups and charged toward the Soviet troops on the platform with muddy, shoving steps, pointing their guns at the khaki uniforms.

Now, a tan-colored team and an olive-green team, two arcs of different colors, nationalities, and languages, stood facing each other on the train platform, like medieval phalanxes preparing for battle.

Section 63, Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Dispute Before the Gun (Part 2)

"Keep a close eye on every single one of those Russians, guys."

……

"Stay calm, comrade."

……

Olive green uniforms and khaki uniforms stood like sculptures before each other, M1 Garand rifles and Mosin-Nagant rifles pointing at the heads of the soldiers holding the rifles.

……

……

……

……

Every soldier's hands, raised to aim, trembled slightly in this tense, silent spectacle—no one dared to fire the first shot, fearing that someone might suddenly fire it.

Eyes from Siberia and eyes from the Americas stared at each other in the desolate air. Anger, fear, worry, confusion—each person's thoughts were like a thread, and when these dozens, even hundreds, of threads tangled together, they became a chaotic mess, a tangled mess bound together by a fuse.

Even a tiny spark falling on it can ignite it and cause an explosion...

……

……

……

Jonathan was already standing behind the group of American soldiers, taking a grenade off his body, clutching it in his palm, and tucking it behind his back.

The grenade was neatly decorated with crisscrossing grooves and square protrusions. Every time the sergeant's rough fingertips brushed between the peaks and valleys, his anxious heart felt as if it were sitting on his fingertips, having just taken a thrilling roller coaster ride.

……

Finally, a voice came from not far away, which made the soldiers on both sides relax a little.

"Hey! What are you doing!" This was a voice in English coming from the direction of the locomotive.

Looking back, I saw two middle-aged soldiers walking over, protected by two military police officers.

The helmets these two men wore were somewhat different from those worn by the soldiers surrounding them.

Jonathan's helmet had three overlapping upward arrows, indicating his rank as a sergeant. The other soldiers, except for a few with the same rank, either had one or two arrows, representing privates and corporals respectively.

The two men who slowly approached each other had different ranks: one wore a yellow leaf on his helmet, while the other wore a white eagle with outstretched wings. Therefore, their ranks were major and colonel, respectively.

Jonathan knew that his manager had arrived, and what's more, he recognized the colonel in charge—it was Colonel Ruben Tucker, the commander of the 504th Parachute Regiment, whom he had rescued during the fighting in Berlin on the night of the 28th.

Seeing this, he wisely withdrew the forward-pointing muzzle of his gun and shoved his way to make way for the two officers in charge.

At this moment, the Soviet soldiers' ranks broke apart, similar to those of the American soldiers, and a Soviet officer came out with his deputy and guards.

The sergeant also noticed the Soviet officer's meaningful expression, but he didn't care about that expression; he was more concerned about the officer's uniform.

During his months stationed in Berlin, he saw the uniforms of many Soviet officers: dark yellow-green clothes and trousers, with peaked caps of the same color.

Except for a very small number of officers.

Jonathan noticed that this Soviet officer was one of the "very few" – his uniform was still a dark yellow with a greenish tinge, but his trousers were dark blue, and his headwear was much more flamboyant, with a blue brim sitting on a red hat band, looking like he couldn't wait to get attention.

The sergeant didn't care about trivial matters, so he had no idea what the hat represented—NKVD, the People's Commissariat for Internal Affairs of the Soviet Union, the most mysterious entity in the red superpower.

The man in the blue hat slowly raised his right hand and saluted Colonel Tucker.

"Hello."

"Hello," the colonel replied, and judging from the other person's shoulder insignia, he also appeared to be a colonel.

……

……

……

"So please tell me, what has caused my precious children to point guns at your heads?"

"Ha, I'm sorry, officer." The man in the blue hat smiled slightly. "Your soldier hit my soldier, and we've already shown great restraint by not immediately resorting to force."

"So you mean, when my soldier wanted to use a piece of canvas as a raincoat, he also accidentally lengthened his legs by more than 50 yards and kicked your soldier?"

“No, actually I already told you, sir.” The man in the blue hat curled his lip. “Your train came from Berlin, and on your way here from Berlin, some comrades at the train station passed on a message to us. It seems that there are some things on your train that belong to you, but may not belong to your American troops. For your ‘safety’, we would like to check them for you.”

……

“Well, really?” The major calmly pointed to the mannequin limbs and black armored vehicle on the train car, answering the blue-hatted man’s question. “Those are the spoils of war our buddies risked their lives for. I can testify that I was the one who asked the colonel for permission to bring them back.”

“I don’t find your words very convincing, sir.” The man in the blue hat remained unmoved. “We’d much rather see them up close than hear about them. May I ask if we could examine these items more closely? I imagine if they were something you’ve seized, you wouldn’t refuse such a non-threatening offer.”

"You answered first, buddy." The colonel's lips curled up slightly. "Of course I can show you, oh, just show you, I don't like giving away things I use for promotions."

"Thank you for your cooperation, I'm glad." The man in the blue hat remained expressionless, raised his left hand and waved it forward, and several Soviet soldiers ran towards the train carriage.

"You all go back to the vehicles!" The major raised his hands and waved to the American soldiers around him. "This isn't a mess hall where you line up for breakfast! It's warmer huddled together! Just a few people are enough!"

"Hey, wait a minute," the man in the blue hat interjected. "Your soldiers who were hitting people, stay behind. I have something to ask him."

"Is it necessary? I can answer any questions you may have."

"No, no, no, I'm not interested in the answers you give me. It's better to talk to the person involved."

……

……

……

The colonel and the NKVD officer watched quietly as three Soviet soldiers surrounded the American soldier who had assaulted someone in front of the carriage and pulled the beaten comrade aside.

Then the others crowded into that carriage. They looked at the armored vehicle here, then at the wreckage of the steel doll there, and slowly pulled out their cameras, pointed them at the front of the armored vehicle, and at the patches of damage on the doll's remains, and pressed the shutter button.

……

……

……