The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943-Chapter 128 - 138: Recognized the Look in the Eye, Met the Right Person

Chapter 128: Chapter 138: Recognized the Look in the Eye, Met the Right Person

Dreams are beautiful, but reality is cruel!

The cruelty of reality lies in the fact that things never go as you expect.

In just one day, the situation had spiraled completely out of control—the road from Bastogne to the rear was jammed with vehicles, and the reinforcing American troops had taken over the entire route.

By dawn the next day, a small advance detachment of the Seventh Armored Army had already entered Bastogne. They were to reinforce St. Vith, a town that was, aside from Bastogne, the most important road and railway hub in eastern Ardennes.

As soon as this detachment arrived in Bastogne, they immediately blocked off traffic and took direct control of the road.

"Sir, our orders are very clear: take over the road to facilitate troop movements. The road is only so wide—if your people use it, our troops won’t be able to get through..."

As he spoke, the military police major deliberately glanced at the giant vehicle in front of him—an M25 Dragon Wagon tank transporter.

There was no need to guess what would happen next. Once that thing got on the road, it would completely...

...had completely blocked the entire road.

Looking at the narrow, three-meter-wide road jammed with vehicles and American soldiers, Pierre immediately felt a headache coming on.

What does it mean to miss a single detail despite a hundred precautions?

This is it!

He had calculated everything, except for the possibility that the narrow road would be occupied by American reinforcements. Not only were they occupying it, but they had completely blocked the way!

"So, at the earliest, when can we set out?"

"That depends on the situation, sir. Right now, the most important thing is to reinforce the front lines. My suggestion is that you wait here for the time being!"

Wait here?

In Bastogne!

What a joke!

Stay here and wait to die?

Seeing Pierre’s ever-changing expression, the military police major shrugged helplessly and said,

"Even if you leave Bastogne now, you won’t get far. The roads are packed with troops..."

An hour later, on a road more than thirty kilometers from Bastogne, two convoys had pulled over to the roadside. The convoys included SdKFz 250 half-track armored vehicles as well as several M3 half-tracks. As a jeep approached from the opposite direction, Wei Shanhe jumped out and reported,

"Sir, we ran into the Americans from the Big Red One Division at the pass. They’ve already blocked it off. No matter who it is, they’re not letting anyone through. They said even if we have orders from Allied headquarters, they absolutely won’t let us pass..."

His subordinate’s report made Pierre’s heart sink instantly.

Damn it!

We’re stuck here. Now we’re really screwed...

While Pierre was feeling despair, in the forest there was someone whose heart was burning with excitement—Lieutenant Colonel von der Heydte. He had been ordered to lead the paratroopers in an airborne operation to seize a key traffic junction and assist the German ground forces.

However, from the very start, this airborne operation was a disaster. Intense Allied anti-aircraft fire scattered the flight formations, and the inexperienced pilots failed to account for the strong headwinds. By the time the scheduled jump time arrived, most of the paratroopers were far from their designated drop zones, scattered over a 20-mile area. The casualty rate during the jump exceeded 10%. Fortunately, they landed in a forest, so the Americans couldn’t respond in time.

Heydte himself injured an arm on landing—he had already injured his other arm in a previous jump—so now, with both arms hurt, he managed to gather only about 100 paratroopers. By the morning of the 2nd, he had assembled 125 men, and by the afternoon, that number had grown to 150. But most of the paratroopers had been wounded during the drop, and everyone was suffering from frostbite due to the bitter cold. They had found almost no weapons containers, no radios, and no food. Without heavy weapons, they couldn’t seize the crossroads.

If only his cousin, Count Claus von Stauffenberg’s bomb plot had succeeded, he wouldn’t be stuck in this frozen wasteland.

Four days ago, SS Sixth Panzer Army’s Sepp Dietrich had boasted that he’d reach this area by noon on the first day of the offensive. Yet now it was already the morning of the second day, and there was still no sign of Dietrich.

Another ten minutes passed, and the baron heard the rumble of vehicles approaching, instantly rekindling hope in his heart.

Now, looking at the convoy by the roadside—which included both SdKFz 250 half-tracks and American M3 half-tracks, with all the soldiers wearing white overcoats, many sporting American helmets, but quite a few with M35s, and most importantly, their weapons—most carried MP44s, and the machine guns mounted on the armored vehicles were all MG42s.

"Sir, they must be our people."

The more than 350 cold and hungry German paratroopers hiding in the forest all gazed at their "comrades" by the roadside with burning eyes. These paratroopers, injured and frostbitten, saw not only "compatriots," but the hope of survival.

Heydte’s heart was burning too—these were his own men!

"They should be ours. No Allied unit would use so many STG44s..."

Heydte made a rational judgment—some American soldiers might use captured STG44s, but never would an entire American unit be armed almost exclusively with them.

Even among German units, such a force was rare.

"They must be scouts sent by Dietrich,"

Thinking this, Heydte ordered his adjutant, Hank,

"Hank, take someone and make contact with them."

Despite being fairly certain of their identity, Heydte remained cautious.

So Major Hank took a soldier and walked toward the edge of the forest, the soldier holding a stick with a white handkerchief tied to it.

Standing atop an armored vehicle, Sun Yi was on alert with his machine gun, scanning the forest. When he saw two figures emerge from the trees, he immediately shouted in German,

"Who goes there!"

At the same time, he fired a burst over their heads.

Though the gunfire startled Hank, the shouted challenge brought a smile to his frostbitten face.

A Bavarian accent!

As a Bavarian himself, Hank immediately shouted back,

"Don’t shoot! We’re paratroopers from Lieutenant Colonel Heydte’s airborne battle group. Are you the reconnaissance unit from the 6th Waffen-SS Panzer Army?" 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Awakened by the gunfire, Pierre heard the shouting from the forest and immediately signaled his men not to fire. He then called out in German toward the forest,

"We are from the 6th Waffen-SS Panzer Army. Lieutenant Colonel Heydte..."

"Are you there?"

At the same time, Pierre lowered his voice and said,

"Hurry up and pull down your balaclavas."

The knitted balaclavas were just like robber masks. In the freezing cold, almost everyone had pulled down their balaclavas, revealing only their eyes.

Pierre’s voice carried into the forest, bringing smiles to the faces of Hank and the other German soldiers hidden among the trees.

"Berlin accent!"

Lieutenant Colonel Heidete broke into a smile. Despite his injured arms, he stood up and called out loudly,

"I’m here! God bless, you’ve finally arrived."

The other paratroopers hiding in the forest also stood up. Hungry and exhausted, they all joyfully made their way toward the roadside.

Hank, who had already reached the roadside, saluted Pierre when he saw him and said,

"Sir, did you bring any food? We haven’t eaten in so long, we’re starving..."

The next instant, Hank’s expression changed. He shouted urgently,

"You’re not Germans!"

In the next moment, the rapid staccato of machine-gun fire rang out...