In the strong wind, a dark green painted C-47 transport aircraft appeared over the military airport of Olsztin, a city in northeastern Poland. Its shaking descending posture made the ground personnel feel very worried. Fortunately, the pilot's skills were solid enough, and the operation performance of this classic transport aircraft was also very excellent. It finally defeated the challenge of the east wind and landed safely on the airport runway. At the end of the runway, several American Willis military jeeps and Ford cars seemed to have been waiting for a long time. After the plane was stable, they quickly drove under the gangway. There was no welcome ceremony or taking photos. The passengers on the plane hurried into the cabin. Even so, the airport staff was surprised to find that there were people in German military uniforms among the passengers!

Under this all-round and strict protection, Ford quickly sent special guests from afar to a large hotel in downtown Olshtin. Judging from the guards in front of the door and the multiple flags in the foyer, this place has become the location of a joint department of the European Allied Army. Under the serious look of the guards, two soldiers wearing German Third Reich Army uniforms left the car and walked into the hotel. Both of them were not tall. The leader looked very old, with old skin, gray hair and steady steps. The one behind was only in his thirties, with beautiful eyebrows, clean and tidy eyes, and his bag was very professional.

At this time, the conference room on the first floor of the hotel was completely transformed into a temporary command organization, with maps, documents, pencils, magnifying glasses and hurried figures everywhere. Judging from the officer's costumes, this is a mixture of American, British, French and Polish soldiers, and the languages ​​spoken by people also seem very inconsistent, English, French, Polish and "words" with strange accents. When the captain service officer in the US uniform came in with two Germans, a long-faced and bald American general was muffled: "It will rain, we can't blow the clouds away with fans! It will take four days of rain, and it will probably be put into use normally on the fifth day of the frontline airport, and four days are still the most optimistic estimate!"[]

"Report! They are here!" The captain service officer had to wait until the commander finished speaking before interrupting the heated discussion of the group of allied generals.

There is never a shortage of "reports" in the lively command center. People did not calm down at first, until they realized that the atmosphere was strange and finally turned all their eyes to the entrance. The famous German Field Marshal Manstein stood expressionlessly behind the right hand of the captain's serviceman. Except for a small number of senior generals, others did not know about the arrival of this heavyweight before. The huge difference in identity made them unable to think for a while. Until the long-faced and bald American general, Omar Nelson Bradley, the commander of the largest card here, said in a hearty tone, "Please come in." The atmosphere neared to solidification was thawed.

"Everyone, I don't think I need to introduce you to you!" Bradley whispered in his American language. "Martin Manstein, our new friend, will serve as our senior military adviser."

All the general-level figures present had experienced the baptism of World War II without exception. In particular, the French and Polish officers were defeated under German counterparts, and the British were not much better. They hesitated for a while, and then a sparse applause sounded, which was a reluctance to accept Manstein's arrival.

In contrast, Bradley's war journey was much happier. Before 1943, he trained his troops in the United States. When he arrived in North Africa, he was in the Tunisia battle to annihilate the German and Italian troops. The battle of Sicily landed in Italy was relatively smooth, followed by the Normandy landing and advancing towards Germany. There were many difficult and tough bones in it, but it also achieved Bradley's glorious position among the American generals.

"Come on! Marshal Manstein!"

Without the grudges of his British, French and Polish colleagues around him, Bradley readily invited the German marshal who was still in the British senior prisoner of war a few days ago to his side. The two shook hands solemnly and greeted each other. The German officer following Manstein translated the other's words into German in a timely manner.

Ignoring the strange eyes of the British, French and Polish generals, Manstein began to check the combat map with Bradrey's introduction. While examining the current situation of the front lines between the two sides, he asked several questions about the troops, firepower configuration and early victory. He seemed to be not treating himself as an outsider, so several British and French officers looked resentful. Although the Poles here were "fighting at home." However, they were the slowest in rebuilding the army after the war, and the weakest troops sent this time, so naturally lacked the strength to speak and express their opinions.

"There will be continuous rainy weather for four days to one week in the next." At the end of introducing the battlefield, Bradley said helplessly, which was also the situation that the Allied generals were struggling to discuss when Manstein entered the door just now.

"The worst weather in Russia is their late autumn rainy season, which usually lasts about half a month, with muddy roads and very difficult vehicles." Manstein muttered, and the translator he brought hesitated for a moment and translated the sentence into English. From the less standard pronunciation and words, he was not a professional translator but a German officer who could speak English.

Before Bradley could answer the conversation, he heard Manstein's elongated German word "But."

"The Marshal said that your aviation power will not be able to exert its power in about a week. The left and right wings, especially the left wing, are too deep into the enemy's territory, and they are likely to be subject to fierce counterattacks from the enemy." The German officer brought by Manstein translated his words into English.

Bradley's happy expression turned back to the seriousness he had before, and he signaled the German officer to ask Manstein "what does it have?"

Manstein looked up at the window and looked at it. He couldn't see the scene outside the window because he pulled the curtains, but when he came, he had clearly felt the signs of heavy rain.

"Walking on the spot before the rain comes, turn to the defense and arrange a layered battlefield defense."

Facing the enemy's counterattack, we must do a good job of defense in advance. This sounds like a countermeasure that ordinary officers can think of. The British and French generals next to us held hands one by one, looking at Manstein, a seemingly powerful "foreign aid".

Bradley asked, "What kind of battlefield defense is considered to be of level?"

"There are frontlines, depths, and mobility. We fully estimate the power of the Soviet army to counterattack, use fortifications to reduce their offensive layer by layer, and when finding their weaknesses, we must be able to launch a counterattack in time." Manstein said quickly and smoothly. At this moment, he seemed to have found the feeling of strategizing again. At this moment, he seemed to have returned to that difficult and glorious era, with firm will and loyal and reliable colleagues gathered around him, and they always fought for a common belief...

After listening to the English retelling of the German officer, Bradley thought seriously with his chin in one hand, and his eyes looked at the map over and over again. After a moment, he reluctantly said to Manstein: "This may be difficult to do in a short period of time. Our army is used to attacking, and the stubborn defense against the enemy is still good. We need to organize temporary systems and have deep defenses... What will happen if we attack and fight a large-scale mobile war?"

This time before Manstein spoke, the British general on the side could not bear it anymore. He said coldly and sarcastically: "The result was that it was the German army, and the Soviets beaten to the point of being beaten. But we are not the German army. There is a head of state who likes to command blindly and a group of production organizers who only know how to make profits for personal gain."

Bradley could stop his colleagues from shutting up, but he could not ask the German officer brought by Manstein to selectively skip this sentence. He was surprised and passed on the words of the British general to Manstein. The German marshal did not explode, but looked at the British officer who was not of high quality with extremely cold eyes, without saying a word.

Facing Manstein's look, the British general was obviously timid. He said boldly: "If you really have magical command ability, how could you become a loser with your empire?"

"Enough!" Bradley stepped aside and blocked the confrontation between the British general and Manstein, and also cut off the rapid escalation of confrontation between the two. He told the British general: "General Renka, we did fight with the Germans on the battlefield in an early stage, and we were all doing our own duties. Now the grudges between us and Germany have been settled, and it is time to work together to deal with the Soviets! This time, Marshal Manstein's appointment as a senior adviser was also a decision made by the top leaders of our two countries. As soldiers, we should abandon personal prejudice. In any case, Marshal Manstein's experience in fighting with the Soviets is more than we add. What do you think?"

As a "general of the American soldiers." Bradley enjoys a high reputation among the American army and even among the Allied officers and soldiers. The British general wearing the rank of lieutenant general cannot help but give face to the foreign boss. He snorted coldly: "Okay! Let the Nazi marshal speak freely! I want to see how clever he can give."

It is difficult to avoid this kind of friction and conflict caused by different cultures, habits and concepts when leading a joint multinational force. Bradley turned around with a serious face and looked at the other generals present. His eyes also swept across the circle of officers outside. These people were also from the army of the United States, Britain, France and Poland. They were also full of surprise, curiosity and emotions with their respective subjective intentions, hostility, fear, and admiration.

"Martin Manstein is our senior adviser. I hope I don't need to remind you again and again." Bradley said in a pun, and then he apologized to Manstein very seriously and asked him to continue the topic just now.

Demeanor is the biggest difference between those who achieve great things and those who are mean. Manstein did not lose his composure from beginning to end. The look that was colder than frost in his eyes was a kind of momentum without anger. After accepting Bradley's apology, he analyzed calmly: "Rainy days are not suitable for attack - relatively speaking, it is more unfavorable for the side with a lengthened supply line deep into the enemy's territory. If you want to continue to maintain the attack when air support is weakened, you can, but the troops participating in the attack must ensure a consistent determination, launch a decisive attack with full courage and perseverance, and catch the enemy off guard!"

After hearing this statement, the French general present spoke first: "This kind of attack means we have to pay a considerable price, right!"

"It is usually understood that this is the case, but it is not ruled out that the opponent's weakness will hit the opponent's weakness and then win a big victory." Manstein replied.

"The possibility is very small," the French general continued.

Manstein did not deny it.

The French general asked again: "If we turn to conventional defense without organizing what you call layer-by-layer defense, what large-scale counterattack might the Soviet army use these few days to organize?"

"Greater than you think." Manstein's answer seemed to have contempt.

The French general smiled: "You overestimate the Soviets. In the past three months, we have thrown hundreds of thousands of tons of bombs into the rear of the Soviet Union. You should have a deep understanding of the complete destruction caused by this strategic bombing."

Manstein was still not angry when he was hit by a contemptuous counterattack. He just responded coldly, "Don't forget Arden's strike back."

"Yes, Arden's counterattack has shed all the last blood of the Third Reich, how can it be forgotten?" The British general interrupted in an inappropriate manner, and it was very targeted.

Despite being sieged, Manstein remained as pine and pine. The more he did, the more he felt the tragic feeling of success and defeat. Bradley had to speak again to smooth things over the course of the game. He said to everyone: "Okay, OK, Marshal Manstein has been bumping for more than ten hours along the way. Let's get here today! We have arranged our residence upstairs, Marshal, tonight we have prepared a small welcome dinner for you, and I will ask the adjutant to invite you in advance."

Without a arrogant and artificial bad temper, Manstein did not turn down the dinner prepared by the Americans on the grounds of fatigue. He thanked Bradre in a plain manner, and then walked out of the room without looking back under the leadership of the US military service officer. As soon as the door was closed, the British general, the French general and the Polish general said in a verbal manner like vendors:

"Look at this Nazi marshal, he is still so arrogant after being defeated for more than a year. He really should be imprisoned back to prison to reflect on his face!"

"I can't figure it out. How could this guy come to serve as an adviser for us? His military capabilities are indeed unquestionable, but how could he really help us? Like all Germans, he wishes we could fight the Soviets to lose both sides!"

"Yes, General Bradley, we cannot be disturbed by his words. As General Renka said just now, if he could penetrate everything on the battlefield, how could he lose the decisive Battle of Kursk?"

Bradley smiled bitterly, and he raised his hands at the same time to signal everyone to be calm: "I can understand your mood. It is indeed not so comfortable to make a marshal of a defeated country come here, but we have to admit that the Germans are not so useless, otherwise we would not have to mobilize all our strength to defeat this opponent at the beginning. Regarding the battles and battles on the Eastern Front, I have read some in publications and war reports, and heard from the Soviet people. The Germans fought very well in the early stage, and there were also classic examples in the mid- and late stages. Their experience is indeed something we lack at present. To be honest, I was surprised at the beginning when I received the notification above. Later, I thought about what we have to worry about in a destroyed country, a marshal in name only, and are we still afraid that he would conquer us in turn? Don't forget that humans can tame even the vicious wolf."

These last two sentences obviously touched these unconvincing Allied generals. They nodded and drank, and the unhappiness just now disappeared. Everyone returned to the main topic and argued with their own opinions on how to deal with the subsequent continuous rainy weather.

Such a star-rated hotel obviously does not lack spacious and comfortable rooms. The Allies arranged a large north-facing suite for Manstein, but the one who arranged for his assistant was a small room at the corner, which was almost at the end of the first floor, which was obviously very inconvenient in life.

"They are so overdoing!"

Putting the briefcase in Manstein's study, the German officer with the rank of lieutenant said in grievance and anger.

Manstein sneered silently, and then used his eyes to signal his assistant not to talk nonsense here. Only then did the lieutenant begging the leader.

"I thought I would never have the chance to set foot on the land of Poland in my life. The people here have deep resistance to us. War... Do you have to bring such profound harm and hatred?" Manstein sighed and walked towards the balcony. He did not open the door and walked out. Although the air outside was fresh, it did not belong to the freedom of the losers like them.

After hearing this, the lieutenant just sighed silently and asked, "Sir, I'll make you a pot of coffee!"

"Okay, thank you!"

Manstein left the balcony door and returned to the room. He saw a newspaper on the table, and walked over to find it was printed in Polish.

"Hans, do you understand Polish?"

The lieutenant turned around with a kettle: "I understand a little, but I'm not proficient."

"It was yesterday's newspaper," Manstein said, looking at the head of the newspaper, "it may have published news that the Allied troops are advancing in Eastern Europe."

"I'll come soon!" The lieutenant filled the kettle with water and plugged it in. While wiping his hands, he walked to Manstein. He picked up the newspaper and looked at it seriously. "Well, the Poles think they are about to follow the Allies to win this war, and they will definitely take back their former territory from the Soviet Union."

"It's not good to be too optimistic, they will soon be disappointed." Manstein whispered, like his own words - the lieutenant standing beside him could hear it clearly, but the monitoring equipment placed in the dark would not gain anything.
Chapter completed!