The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943-Chapter 127 - 137: An Old Friend’s Return

"It’s definitely the Germans attacking!" Captain Luo Tai of the Twelfth Company shouted in shock.

Then, with a thunderous explosion overhead, the shockwave and blast blew straight into the room, sending the deputy captain flying. The others stared in disbelief as the office was left riddled with holes by the blast.

"Damn those Germans..."

Luo Tai disdainfully pulled his foot out from a pile of debris.

"Luo Tai, are you alright?"

"I’m fine, just landed on my backside..."

Seeing he was unharmed, Feng Zhijie finally breathed a sigh of relief, straightened his thoughts, and shouted an order:

"Immediately contact headquarters, tell them—"

The incident of the unit’s encampment coming under German attack was reported up the chain of command.

Then, turning his head sharply, he shouted a command.

"Order everyone to prepare for evacuation—evacuate immediately..."

At the moment Feng Zhijie issued the order, he had no idea that the Germans’ fiercest counteroffensive on the Western Front had already begun.

What was even more deadly was that their communication with the outside world had been completely cut off—the telephone lines were down, and all radio frequencies they used were jammed by various types of German music. This meant they had lost contact not only with headquarters in the rear, but also with nearby American units.

All he knew now was that the artillery fire was extremely intense, and that this area wasn’t the main focus of the German attack. For the time being, his unit hadn’t suffered many casualties—but that was all he knew.

Not long after, the German barrage shifted away, and the shells began to move toward the towns in the rear.

Across the entire Ardennes front, every American, Belgian, and Luxembourger was jolted awake by this brutal reveille. Yet, amidst the chaos caused by the communications blackout, each group assumed that this was just a local attack, nothing to be overly concerned about.

None of them believed the Germans would launch a large-scale offensive from this direction. After all, in recent days, the Ardennes region had been so peaceful it was as if horses were grazing on the southern slopes. Who could have imagined that the Germans would choose this place for their counteroffensive?

However, unlike the Americans, for Feng Yunzhi—who had never before fought the Germans—one look at the huge crater in the town made his heart sink. He immediately realized something was very wrong.

"It must be a major German force attacking!"

Everyone looked at each other in astonishment—they all had the same gut feeling.

Why?

Well, the crater was just too deep and too large—almost twice the height of a man. They had never seen a shell crater of this size before.

Unless it was a main force assault, how could such powerful heavy artillery be deployed?

It had to be said—poverty limits the imagination. For these soldiers from China, it was hard to imagine that in Europe, 150mm howitzers were merely divisional artillery.

As for guns over 200mm, those were just corps-level artillery.

This is why they "misjudged" the situation. But it was precisely this "misjudgment" that allowed them to escape with their lives under the Germans’ massive assault.

Now, what should they do?

"Captain, wh-what do we do now?"

"What do we do? Retreat! Head for Bastogne..."

Almost simultaneously, all the search teams scattered throughout the Ardennes began withdrawing toward Bastogne—not only because their boss was there, but more importantly, because it was the intersection of seven roads and a railway. It was their only option for escaping the Ardennes.

...

December 1st, Bastogne.

At dawn, when the Germans began shelling and crossed the Our River, Pierre was still asleep. When the Germans broke through the American lines—really just outposts—and the forward search teams began retreating toward Bastogne, Pierre was in the woods near Bastogne, surveying the terrain.

Historically, the most difficult battle to defend Bastogne took place in these forests. The US forces suffered over 3,000 casualties, more than 2,000 of whom were paratroopers from the 101st Airborne defending the woods outside the city.

"Nothing but trees—no obstacles at all. No wonder the casualties were so high here..."

With a sigh, Pierre checked the time.

"December 1st. The advantage is mine..."

Yes, there were still half a month before the German offensive!

Even by 10 a.m., Pierre still didn’t know that the Germans had already launched the Ardennes Counteroffensive ahead of schedule—and that their early action was closely related to him. The tungsten and molybdenum ores he had supplied had become a booster for German military production, enabling them to equip themselves for the Ardennes offensive ahead of schedule. The persistent bad weather since mid-November had also provided cover for the German attack.

They had started sixteen days early!

When he handed those rare metals to the Germans in Switzerland, he never imagined that his "good deed" would one day come back to haunt him.

At 10:12 a.m., the detachment’s radio operators finally discovered that they had lost contact with the forward search teams, and that the frequencies were filled with static.

"Something’s definitely wrong."

As the communications section chief, Qian Shicheng ordered his subordinates to keep trying to reach the search teams and sent someone to report to his superior.

"Static? What kind of static?"

Pierre, who had just returned from outside the city, asked in surprise.

"It sounds like music—sung in German. Several channels are all playing music..."

"Damn it!"

Almost instinctively, a cold sweat broke out on Pierre’s back.

"The Germans have launched their attack early!"

At this point, Pierre even forgot to hide his feelings. No one knew better than he did how crucial Bastogne was in this counteroffensive—it was the focal point of all focal points. Otherwise, the Germans wouldn’t have committed five divisions to attack this godforsaken place.

"Hurry! Send out signalmen along the roads to contact the other search teams. Everyone, prepare to retreat!"

"Retreat?"

Chu Yun blurted out instinctively.

"What about the weapons we captured? Chief Pierre, it took us a lot of effort in this freezing weather to find those..."

"No matter how valuable the equipment, our lives come first!"

"Say that again! Captain Chu, do you know what this place is? It’s the junction of seven highways! If the Germans come at us here, tens of thousands of them will swallow us alive!"

Having said that, Pierre immediately shouted out his orders.

"Distribute all the tactical vests! Everyone, get ready. As soon as we’ve covered the men retreating from the front, we pull back immediately..."

Damn it, how did the Germans get here ahead of schedule?

By noon, the situation was still chaotic. Due to German interference and the phone lines being cut, the entire Ardennes region was in disarray: divisions couldn’t find their regiments, regiments couldn’t find their battalions, battalions couldn’t find their companies. Everyone could only fight on their own.

At this moment, Pierre was still in Bastogne, commanding his troops—not to set up defenses, but to prepare for a retreat.

The first day of the Ardennes Counteroffensive.

At dusk, the Supreme Headquarters of the Allied Expeditionary Force at Versailles was holding an important meeting to discuss the issue of reinforcing infantry manpower. Present were Eisenhower, his staff, and Bradley.

Halfway through the meeting, a colonel entered the conference room and quietly handed a telegram to British Major General Kenneth Strong, Eisenhower’s intelligence officer. Strong glanced at the message, then interrupted the meeting and read aloud:

"This morning, the enemy launched a counteroffensive, attacking the First Army’s sector at five points."

Bradley guessed it was just a harassing attack.

"It must be that guy Hitler feeling the pressure from Patton. He has to do something to ease it,"

he said, in his Midwestern accent.

"If he can push into the Ardennes Highlands and force us to make Patton give up Saar and send him to deal with the counterattack, then he’ll have succeeded—he’ll have bought himself more time."

"Bradley, this isn’t a limited attack,"

Eisenhower said after a moment’s thought.

"It doesn’t make sense for the Germans to launch a limited attack against our weakest sector."

"If it’s not a limited attack, then what is it?"

"We’ll have to wait and see. But until we know for sure, we can’t just sit back and do nothing."

"So what do you think we should do?"

"Send Middleton some reinforcements. Dispatch about two armored divisions for now."

"I think," Bradley said,

"That would certainly be safer. But you know, one of those divisions will have to come from Patton."

"And then?"

"George is about to launch a major offensive against Saar in a few days—he won’t be happy to lose a division right now."

"Tell him,"

Eisenhower said, his tone a bit sharper,

"This damn war is being run by Ike!"

A minute later, Bradley was already on the phone with Lieutenant General George Patton, who was at the Third Army headquarters in Nancy.

"George," Bradley said,

"Send the 10th Armored Division to Luxembourg."

Patton reacted strongly—the phone crackled with the force of his protests. If they took the 10th Division from him, he might not be able to attack Saar at all. And what good would another armored division do them anyway?

Bradley patiently explained the situation to him.

"Goddammit!"

Patton said in his high-pitched voice,

"There’s no real threat there. It’s just a damn little harassing attack. They’re just trying to shake my foundations and stop my offensive."

"Hell, I don’t want to do this either, George, but I have to take that division. Troy Middleton needs support."

Then Bradley called his headquarters in Luxembourg, ordering his chief of staff to immediately instruct the Ninth Army to move the Seventh Armored Division south from the Netherlands.

He hung up, and then Bradley and his staff pored over the entire front—the telegraph room at Versailles was being flooded by a constant stream of messages from the front. Eighty percent of them said the same thing—"The situation is completely out of control, the Germans are launching a massive offensive!"

Yet even so, no one at Supreme Headquarters imagined that this was Hitler’s biggest gamble yet—a full-scale offensive personally orchestrated by him, aimed at recapturing Antwerp.