Cannon Fire Arc-Chapter 876 - 14 The Longest Day_3

Chapter 876: Chapter 14 The Longest Day_3

He turned back, surprised to find that the paratroopers had all already exited the cabin.

The paratrooper commander patted Mark on the shoulder: “Thank you, and good luck.”

After speaking, he also turned and swiftly moved to the cabin door, jumping out without hesitation.

Mark glanced at the co-pilot: “I plan to make a forced landing on the beach.”

The co-pilot didn’t answer, his head drooping to the side.

Only then did Mark notice that the co-pilot had been shot at some point.

“Damn it.”

————

August 3, 0230 hours, Prosen Western Front Command.

Erwin Rommel pushed open the bedroom door, dressing while asking: “What is it that woke me?”

“Paratroopers, Marshal.”

Erwin paused his buttoning, looking up at the deputy officer: “Paratroopers? Scale? Location?”

“In the Norman Duchy, the scale is still being confirmed. The resistance organization has cut off our phone lines, and we’re currently in chaos.”

The Marshal frowned: “For the resistance organization to cut the phone lines at this moment… it seems like a long-planned large-scale action. Immediately restore contact with my Armored Division—no, I’ll go to the 21st Armored Division Headquarters myself, prepare the vehicle and armed guards.”

“Also, send someone to the 507th Heavy Armor Battalion, and tell them to move out once they receive intel on the enemy’s attack position!”

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

The deputy officer: “The 507th Heavy Armor Battalion is with the Asgard Knights, we might not directly command them well?”

Erwin: “I am the Western Front Commander! Tell him to either accept my command or prepare to face the military tribunal!”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the sound of gunfire from a submachine gun was heard outside.

“What’s going on?” Erwin asked.

At this time, the Guard Corps commander appeared with a submachine gun: “The resistance organization threw grenades at our sentries, but they didn’t explode.”

No sooner had he spoken than the sound of MG42 gunfire rang out, followed by several explosions.

Erwin: “Eliminate the resistance organization! Also, does the Guard Corps have tanks?”

The Guard Corps commander looked troubled: “We only have half-track vehicles.”

“Not even a single Mark II tank? A half-track vehicle will do, do you have any equipped with a 20mm cannon?”

“No.”

“You have nothing at all!” Erwin cursed, “I need armored forces to get me to the 21st Armored! Never mind, a half-track vehicle will do. The first 24 hours of the landing are critical, unleashing the Armored Division to counterattack now will create a time window to drive them back to the sea before their anti-tank forces can land! Just like in the Kingdom of Sardinia. Get me a half-track vehicle, I need to go to the 21st Armored!”

————

Captain Evans, after landing, first reached for his “leg bag,” a nickname for the new equipment issued to paratroopers before the offensive, primarily meant for carrying weapons.

Then, Captain Evans only felt a severed strap, evidently cut by shrapnel from an anti-aircraft shell.

“Damn it.”

He looked up at the sky, where Prosen anti-aircraft guns were pouring fire.

However, the good news was that, not trusting the new leg bag, he had hidden a small pistol.

He took out the pistol, and with the other hand holding a small gadget for identifying friend or foe, he moved forward in the darkness.

Soon, he heard a noise ahead.

Evans pressed the device in his hand, and that toy-like thing made a crisp “click”.

His heart was in his throat; if they were Prosens, he’d only have the pistol to defend himself.

The good news was that a very authentic Ansa accent came from the other side.

Evans hurriedly approached: “Damn! You shouldn’t speak, you should respond with two clicks!”

“Sorry, but I lost mine.”

Evans recognized the voice: “Priest?”

This was the chaplain of their battalion.

“That voice, is it Captain Evans? Hello there!”

“Priest, what are you doing?” Evans crawled through the underbrush, only to find a swamp behind it; he stopped at the edge, looking at the priest perched on a branch, “Did you fall into the water? Need help?”

“No, I’m fine; I’m looking for my Bible and Holy Communion Box, I am a priest, I can’t be without them, they’re like my weapons!”

Evans frowned: “Uh, priest, do you have an actual weapon? I recall you should have a Garand Semi-automatic Rifle?”

“Good question, I can’t find it; my leg bag only has a half-length strap left. So I need to find my Bible even more to preach to Prosens if we encounter them and convert them!”

Evans: “Huh?”

Priest: “I’m serious. You should go, Captain, the soldiers need your command.”

“Damn it,” Evans cursed, “No, I’ll help you find your Bible, then we’ll go find the troops together.”

“No need, good news, I’ve found it!” The priest said, pulling a bundle from the water, “Intact! Let’s go, Captain!”