Re: Blood and Iron

It was not long before the Allies were once more forced to flee from their position. They had made a critical error in assuming the Central Powers did not know exactly when, where, and how to hit the critical areas of defense.

Bruno had of course built the border complex to be damn near impenetrable from weapons of the era. There was just one thing the Allies weren’t expecting. He also designed them to have secret passageways that could be utilized by his own forces should they ever be forced to abandon the complex.

A properly staffed, manned and supplied fortress would have remained unbroken for a decade, if not more. There was just one problem, a problem Germany had been plagued with in both timelines. And that was the incompetence of its allies.

The Austro-Hungarians had underestimated the desperation and willingness of their enemies, leaving watch posts designed to keep a constant vigil of the surroundings with intersecting lines of fire and zero blind spots completely unguarded during the dead of winter.

This allied the Italians to breach the fortress and slay its inhabitants, gaining it for their own possession and holding it for over a year. Bruno was a man who prepared for every possibility he could conceive.

And understanding that his allies would likely fail him if he was not in direct control over their actions, he had of course made sure there were measures in placed to easily regain control over the fortress should the need arise.

This was how Bruno’s stormtroopers had infiltrated the complex, shut down its ventilation systems, and gassed out its inhabitants without leaving the slightest trace of their intentions before it was too late. Now, after the phosgene had been carefully purged from every crevice of the facility, Bruno stepped foot within it, taking off his gas mask as he brazenly gazed around.

Heinrich was by his side, along with several other officers. Heinrich’s Jaegers had been instrumental in the assault on the facility, as they had provided the reconnaissance necessary to determine the best time for the attack.

And he was naturally in the different uniform than the others around him. While the 8th army still continued to wear the standard m15 pattern uniforms, with minor alterations such as individual soldier’s hand painting their helmets to include camouflage patterns, and Totenkopf’s. As well as the unit insignia on their left biceps.

The Jaegers had been given specialty uniforms, of the same pattern, but in full splittertarnmuster. This meant that the helmets had a splinter camo cover, the field blouses were in the same pattern, as were the trousers. These men also wore camouflage face paint, as well as made use of specialty canvas load bearing equipment in a feldgrau pattern.

Their boots were a brown leather, with feldgrau puttees, and they pained their weapons in a color pattern that was reminiscent of those used by the Rhodesian Security Forces in Bruno’s past life. These Jaegers had been the spearhead of Bruno’s operations.

Once deployed behind enemy lines, their objective was to gather intelligence on enemy positions and coordinate information between aerial, artillery, and ground assets. As well as call in strikes on the objective.

They were damn good at their jobs. And they favored the G-43, over the Fedorov Avtomat, as automatic rifle fire was less useful for their missions than a properly scoped semi-automatic rifle. If they had found themselves engaging enough hostile forces where the need for that kind of firepower was necessary, then a multitude of things had already gone wrong leading up to that point.

Heinrich was quick to comment on the situation as he gazed upon the deceased allied soldiers whose corpses were currently being dragged out of the fortress by the German 8th army.

"I’m not going to lie. This seems like the kind of thing that Erich would love… Where the hell has that bastard been, anyway? I haven’t seen him since… Well I honestly can’t remember now that I think about it?"

Bruno was quick to dismiss these concerns as he reached into his coat pocket, instinctively looking for his flask of alcohol only to remember that he had quit drinking outside of having a liter of beer with his dinner during times of peace.

After he began to grip his own fist together tightly, forcing himself to remember that he was no longer about these habits he redirected the conversation elsewhere.

"He’s around. Tell me Heinrich, how many men did we lose in the assault?"

Heinrich looked over and yelled at one of the medics who was currently tending to a German soldier who appeared to have suffered from chemical burns. Having clearly not properly taped off his sleeves to prevent the chemical gas from touching his skin.

"Hey, corporal, how many did we lose?"

The Medic looked surprised at first, before repeating a number that Bruno was actually surprised to hear.

"Lose? As in dead? None so far. We have a few who were injured by ricochets, or stab wounds, but with all due respect sir, if you don’t let me get back to my job, we might very well have a death on our hands…"

Heinrich nodded his head, confirming that the man was free to continue with what he was doing, as he checked to see if the injured soldier’s lungs were affected by the phosgene gas or not. As for Bruno, he was quick to comment on how much he valued such a victory.

"It’s not every day we gain a major victory with zero KIA and only a few dozen wounded. I would celebrate if we had the time to do so. Unfortunately, the enemy won’t wait for us to make thanks to the Lord for his protection. So all we can do is continue forward.

Once our allies have resupplied and taken care of their wounded, we will push further south. I want Rome to capitulate by the end of summer at the latest!"

Had any other commander made such an audacious claim, Heinrich would be more than willing to chew him out for it. It was unreasonable to expect an entire theater of war to end within a single year, let alone half of one.

But Bruno had made the impossible, possible over and over again. And he had proven his willingness to get home safely to his wife and children as soon as he possibly could, no matter what that may feasibly cost.

If anyone could pull such a monumental victory off, it would be him. Thus, Heinrich was quick to respond in the affirmative.

"I’ll relay your orders...."

---

The Italian King stood before his Generals who informed them of their latest defeat. In the span of a fortnight Trient had been recaptured by the Central Powers, and they enemy was now marching freely into Italian territory.

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Venice had already begun to send reinforcements to the broken forces who had fled their defeat. But there was only so much they could do. The allies had time and again proven incapable of dealing with the Germans.

Previously, King Victor Emmanuel III had joined the Allies because he felt slighted by his previous allies on several occasions. That and it was a good opportunity to press for disputed lands with Austro-Hungary.

But now? Now, victory was almost impossible. The allies were throwing everything they had at the Germans and were failing miserably doing so. There was simply no other way to say it… Germany had too great of an advantage.

Whether it be strategic, tactical, logistical, or simply technological. The German Army had presented a masterclass in preparing for the wars of the new era.

It should have been apparent that from the moment they began mass producing machine guns at the start of the century that they had an understanding far greater than anyone else on how war should be waged.

When the war began, Germany had more machine guns, modern artillery, pilots, aircraft, more tanks, armored cars, and submarines than the rest of the world combined. In addition to this, the grand strategy they practiced had proven most effective.

To put it simply, the Germans had prepared for this war in the best way they possibly could, and the results were as clear as day. Now the German 8th Army was breathing down the Italian King’s neck, and they were perhaps the most fearsome force of warfighters the world had ever seen up until this point.

And army of battle-hardened veterans, each of which had been hand selected to join based upon their aptitude, experience, and merit. The lowest ranking members of the unit had two years of practical combat experience, and had been the top of their class in basic training and their specialty schools.

Meanwhile, they were led by veterans of the Iron Division who had obliterated the Red Army without mercy during the Russian Civil War a decade prior. To put it simply, the Kaiser had unleashed his hounds upon Italy, and now the King of Italy had to figure out how to react.

Because of this, he sighed heavily before speaking the words that Bruno had come to expect of the Italians after their performance in both world wars of his past life.

"Is it too late to switch sides?"

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