The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943-Chapter 130 - 140: Ike, My Regards to You

This time, the Germans are very likely to replicate their victory in the French campaign!

"If the Germans succeed, our elite forces attacking the Netherlands will have their retreat cut off, and even the Port of Antwerp will fall into German hands..."

"At that point, it will be a disaster!" Bradley said.

The fate of the counterattack on continental Europe hinged on the Port of Antwerp. Ever since the Allies crossed the Seine, the key to the war was no longer strategy or tactics, but logistics and supply. This was especially evident when the Allies captured the crucial Port of Antwerp in early September but failed to secure its access routes. The German blockade turned Antwerp into a dead port, and it wasn’t until the end of November that it could be used. As a result, although 95% of various supplies had already arrived in France, only a small portion of the fuel and ammunition needed for the Allied advance into Germany could be replenished, while the rest remained in short supply for a long time.

The 65 Allied divisions operating in Northwest Europe each consumed 700 tons of fuel per day. Unable to support both offensives of the "broad front" strategy simultaneously, Eisenhower was forced to allocate precious military resources judiciously.

Thus, the Port of Antwerp was the linchpin of success or failure on the Western Front—purely a matter of supplies and logistics. Without a port to transport materials, the Allies would inevitably suffer an unprecedented defeat on the Western Front. This is why Hitler launched the Ardennes counteroffensive, with Antwerp as the ultimate objective.

Without fuel and ammunition, the millions of Allied troops gathered in France would be utterly vulnerable. Seizing Antwerp could turn the entire situation around.

That was the fundamental reason for Hitler’s all-or-nothing gamble.

To put it plainly, it was a game of showdown.

Win, and you take it all; lose, and, well, you’re left with nothing.

"If the Germans take Antwerp, we’ll be forced to withdraw from the continent back to Britain, just like the British did at Dunkirk. May God bless us to be as lucky as they were..."

Whether they would be so lucky, only God knew.

But as a military commander, even a brief consideration made it clear that the Germans would never repeat the mistake they made four years ago.

This time, the Germans would definitely not give them a chance to retreat.

"We must send more troops to the Ardennes as quickly as possible."

Because the Germans launched their offensive half a month earlier than in history, most of the troops that could have been mobilized were still resting in places like Paris or even southern France. At this moment, Eisenhower had very few troops at his disposal—at least, there were hardly any units that could be rushed to the Ardennes within a few days.

So the two of them stared at the map, constantly adjusting deployments, moving division after division toward the Ardennes. In the end, both of their gazes fell on that small Belgian town where seven roads and railways converged.

"Bastogne. The main German forces can only regroup there before breaking through Belgium, Ike."

Eisenhower pointed to the small Belgian town on the map and said:

"So we must hold Bastogne."

"But we only have a single company there. That’s nowhere near enough to hold the town."

Bradley’s reply left Eisenhower silent for a moment. The Germans’ left hook had caught him completely off guard, and he was at a loss for how to respond.

For the first time, he had to admit that those Germans really were better at fighting wars than they were.

"How many days will it take the 101st Airborne to get there?"

"About seven days," Bradley said.

"Seven days... Will the Germans give us seven days?"

Eisenhower asked in return.

In reality, the question wasn’t whether the Germans would give them seven days, but whether their troops in that area could hold out for seven days.

Only God knew the answer to that.

Staring at the map, Bradley thought for a moment and said,

"Ike, I have a suggestion."

"What suggestion?"

"A task force."

"What?"

Bradley explained,

"It’s the task force formed by presidential order. They’re right in Bastogne—about six or seven thousand men. They’re preparing to withdraw toward Patton’s position, apparently planning to follow behind his attack and pick up German equipment."

Eisenhower was certainly aware of that task force. In fact, when it was formed, he had remarked that it was a product of political horse-trading by Washington’s bureaucrats. He had no interest whatsoever in the so-called task force.

But that didn’t stop him from hearing how these "vultures" scoured France for abandoned German weapons, sweeping the battlefield clean of leftover materiel.

That was precisely why the French were so dissatisfied with them—France needed those German weapons too.

"So what? Aren’t those ’vultures’ just a bunch of civilian contractors?"

"Ike, they’re all soldiers—troops we trained in India for over a year. They’ve had some small-scale skirmishes with the Germans before, and judging by the results, it seems they can hold their own against the Germans..."

Bradley’s suggestion left Eisenhower deep in thought. As he considered it...

Bradley continued speaking.

"Bastogne is essentially an urban defensive battle in complex terrain. There’s a lot of room for small-unit tactics. I think they should be able to hold out for a few days—at least until the 101st Airborne can reinforce them."

Eisenhower hesitated a little and said, "But this doesn’t seem proper. After all, they’re not American soldiers, and we’ve only signed a contract with them."

"Eike, what matters most right now is winning. If the Germans succeed, we could repeat history—not only would all of Europe fall under German occupation again, but hundreds of thousands of Americans could die. Eike, they’re soldiers—soldiers wearing American uniforms."

After Bradley finished speaking, Eisenhower lit a cigarette, took a couple of puffs, paced back and forth, and said, "May God bless them. Send him a telegram. Tell him he must hold Bastogne at all costs. Tell him it’s for the Allied cause. Ask them to do their duty and hold out until reinforcements arrive... By the way, what’s his name?"

It was only at this moment that Eisenhower realized he had no idea what that guy’s name was.

"That’s not important. What’s important is that we make sure they understand the significance of this battle. Yes, they’ll definitely care about it—they care about their nation’s honor."

...

December 3rd, early morning.

Bastogne. Although it was just past 5 a.m., the town was bustling. The streets were filled with task force members in U.S. Army coats. Many had already climbed onto trucks—the first units preparing to withdraw from the town.

Just then, the communications section received a telegram from Allied headquarters. The moment Qian Shiliang received it, the color drained from his already pale face.

The communications room fell silent, save for the clatter of the telegraph and the interference music broadcast by the Germans.

Everyone was stunned by the telegram they had just received.

Very soon, Qian Shiliang personally took the telegram to the commander’s office. Before he even entered, he heard the commander shouting:

"Have you contacted the men withdrawing from the front? We can wait at most two days—within two days, everyone must be withdrawn..."

Hearing the commander’s voice, Qian Shiliang entered, came to attention, and saluted as he reported, "Sir, telegram from Allied Headquarters... no, an urgent telegram from General Eisenhower..."

An urgent telegram from General Eisenhower?

For some reason, Pierre felt his heart skip a beat, a sense of foreboding welling up inside him. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

The moment he took the telegram, Pierre nearly cursed aloud—Damn you!

Eike!

Damn your whole family!