sovbooks Chapter 53 This is "Hans the Salesman"
Chapter 53 This is "Hans the Salesman"
About 2 kilometers south of Bog Arab is an airport covering an area of about 3 square kilometers.
This area is home to the South African Air Force No. 40 Squadron, the Australian Air Force No. 459 Squadron, and the Royal Air Force No. 208 Squadron.
The South African Air Force squadron and the Australian Air Force squadron are mainly equipped with relatively outdated fighter jets and are responsible for reconnaissance in the desert front and at sea, respectively.
The Royal Air Force, equipped with the most advanced Spitfire fighter jets, is responsible for protecting the airspace security of Borg Arab.
(The image above shows a Hurricane fighter jet in the lower right and a Blenheim fighter jet in the upper left. The latter was originally a bomber, but was converted by the British Army into a heavy fighter, night fighter, and reconnaissance and early warning aircraft during World War II. The air force designations in the text are historical facts. The South African Air Force squadrons were equipped with Hurricanes, and the Australian Air Force squadrons were equipped with long-range Blenheims for maritime reconnaissance.)
Fighter jets roared into the air from the airport, skimming over jeeps driving on the road and whipping up gusts of wind carrying fine sand that struck the resolute face of Lieutenant General Ramsden in the passenger seat.
But Ramsden didn't take it to heart at all.
His tank base was located near the airport.
Places with airports would not be spied on by German reconnaissance planes, nor would they have to worry about being bombed by enemy aircraft.
In addition, the area features shallow sand dunes, hard-soil deserts, and gently undulating but open and undulating mountains, making it almost a perfect training ground for tanks.
The only downside is that we couldn't invite "Hans the Salesman," the pioneer of reform, to our "opening day."
The jeep slowed down and drove into the barbed wire fence, stopping among a group of tanks and soldiers.
Some soldiers were maintaining tanks, some were chatting, and others were drawing something on a map, seemingly discussing new tank tactics theories.
Upon seeing the lieutenant general's jeep enter the camp, the soldiers swarmed around it from all sides.
Ramsden stood up, gripped the windshield of the jeep, and said to the soldiers with a hint of regret:
"The captain might not be coming, brothers."
"His job is to identify problems and help us fix them, but we haven't even started yet."
"so……"
The soldiers laughed, but they couldn't hide the disappointment in their eyes.
Just then, Major Cross's jeep drove into the base.
The soldiers, who had given up hope, discovered that a strange officer, a captain, was sitting in the back seat.
The sharp-eyed soldier immediately recognized Thorne and exclaimed in surprise:
"God, that's Thorne."
"He's here!"
"The major brought him here!"
……
The soldiers swarmed around Thorne like a tide, cheering and vying to shake his hand.
Ramsden turned around in surprise and saw Thorne struggling to jump off the car, surrounded by a crowd.
He hurried to meet him, his steps quickening.
"Welcome, Captain." He shook hands with Thorne, then turned his gaze to Major Cross beside him: "It seems you're hoping to give me a surprise."
"I'm sorry, General," Major Cross said, "I asked Captain Thorne a lot of questions, and he felt it necessary to address them."
Ramsden patted Major Cross on the shoulder: "Well done!"
Thorne was somewhat bewildered; he couldn't believe that Ramsden and his men could be so casual.
Montgomery was too rigid and meticulous; he made all the decisions and did not allow anyone to challenge his authority.
And Ramsden.
Major Cross's unauthorized decision to bring Thorne here was, in principle, a slap in the face to Ramsden, and Montgomery would certainly be furious if it were him.
But Ramsden said, "Well done!"
However, upon closer examination, Thorne felt that this might be related to the high casualty rate of armored troops.
With casualty rates ranging from 30% to 70%, no other details matter.
This is the atmosphere forged by life and death on the battlefield, a shared sense of sympathy, even a tragic sense of dying together, and an inevitable development of the law of the jungle.
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Thorne stood on the "platform," with a dark mass of armored soldiers below him.
The "podium" was actually a "Crusader" tank. Although it was not very suitable for giving speeches, the armored soldiers regarded it as an honor.
However, some of the armored soldiers still looked impatient.
They weren't targeting Thorne; they simply disliked the occasion.
In their view, every speech was nothing more than a heroic battle to restore England's prestige. They spoke impassioned words like they were coaxing children, hoping that the armored soldiers would be fooled into rushing to the front lines to die.
Therefore, they believed that Thorne would be no exception, as they were all tired of hearing this story.
Sure enough, Thorne's first words were: "You guys are piloting the Steel Fortress, brothers."
Everyone was stunned; those words were both so familiar and so jarring.
Thorne can't be that incompetent, can he?
Everyone here was "tricked" into joining the armored forces during their basic training by hearing such words.
Thorne continued, "You are also fast-moving knights, heroes of valiant charges."
Some soldiers realized what was happening and let out a helpless laugh.
Thorne quickened his pace and raised his voice: "You eat better, and you don't have to stay in trenches, and you don't even get shot as often as the infantry!"
The soldiers burst into laughter, many with tears in their eyes.
They recalled their naivety back then, and compared it to their current messed-up situation, all that remained was bitterness.
“I think so too, brothers,” Thorne continued. “I think they’re telling the truth, the absolute truth.”
While the soldiers were still in a daze, Thorne changed the subject:
"The difference between me and them is that they won't tell you how dangerous it is to be an armored soldier."
"I just want to tell you that the German armored forces suffered casualties of 15% to 20% and still achieved victory."
"This is my goal!"
The speech was short, but it was deeply moving.
The soldiers didn't react for a while; the venue was so quiet you could hear the wind whistling through it.
They stared blankly at Thorne, at the 19-year-old captain before them, their eyes filled with surprise, admiration, and trust.
That expression seemed to say:
"He didn't make empty promises, and he didn't use the country, the people, and our families to force us to our deaths."
"His thoughts were focused on how to save our lives and reduce the casualty rate."
"God, no one has ever done this before. Everyone else tells us to bravely charge forward, unafraid of death!"
"Only he is thinking about how to keep us alive!"
……
Ramsden was the first to react; he clapped and nodded emphatically to Thorne: "A brilliant speech, Captain! I will always remember your words!"
The implication is: Don't forget the vow you made today; I will always be watching you.
Thorne responded with a confident smile.
The audience erupted in enthusiastic applause, one wave after another.
Major Cross looked at Thorne with admiration. This was "Hans the Salesman," a man worthy of respect.