Chapter 217: Trust Leads to Destruction
After a full day of fighting for air superiority, Germany firmly seized control of the skies over Hungary with an excellent record of only two fighters and one bomber lost.
Italian front-line commander Spical had originally intended to delay the German Army's advance by deploying the Italian Air Force stationed in Slovakia.
But before the telegram could even be drafted, news arrived that a rebellion had broken out in Slovakia.
Pro-German factions had seized control of the Slovak region, then immediately surrounded two air bases.
More than a dozen fighters and six bombers became German spoils of war before they even had the chance to take off.
The blow to morale was unprecedented.
The Italian Ninth and Fifth Infantry Divisions, deployed along the second defensive line and supported by prepared fortifications, were completely frightened by the Germans. Their minds were focused only on surrender. They were unwilling to sacrifice even a single life for the glory of Rome.
The consequences were severe.
Their rapid surrender directly tore open a gap in the front.
The German armored divisions, which had barely slept, bypassed the surrendered positions at once and moved to encircle the rear of the Hungarian Eleventh Infantry Division, First Infantry Division, and Ninth Light Mechanized Division, which had arrived as reinforcements.
Due to insufficient communications, Hungarian front-line commander General Pidd Ler, who was responsible for coordinating the defense, had no idea that the second defensive line had already been breached.
At that moment, he was still working through the night with his staff, formulating a defensive strategy.
"Order the Ninth Light Mechanized Division to speed up," Pidd Ler said. "German aircraft will not conduct large-scale bombing at night. This is a good opportunity for us to march."
"Once we reach the second defensive line, immediately use the constructed concrete fortifications to resist. Absolutely do not launch an attack. Our mission is to hold the Germans long enough for the capital's people, government, and general headquarters to evacuate."
His voice rose slightly.
"Only when the French dismantle Greece will it be time for our counterattack. If the Greeks can win with fewer men, then so can the Hungarians."
Pidd Ler was excited, yet also faintly panicked.
His excitement came from a soldier's instinctive desire to earn merit.
What general did not wish to see Germany, this so-called military legend, suffer a fatal setback under his command and thereby highlight his own greatness?
But his panic came from fear.
Fear of Germany's terrifying military quality.
Fear of Germany's strength.
After Germany swiftly conquered Poland, all kinds of rumors had spread among the people and circulated through the Army.
Some said German soldiers could go several days without sleep and still maintain considerable combat effectiveness.
Others said the Germans could invade the radio stations of other countries and seize their communications in the blink of an eye.
These speculations were perfectly proven in the next second.
Bang!
The explosion shook Pidd Ler's eardrums.
He instinctively raised his voice and shouted, "What is happening?"
No one answered him.
The staff officers had also been startled by the continuous explosions. Covering their ears, they rushed forward, grabbed his arm, and shouted frantically.
"Hurry, General Pidd! It's the Germans! We must move while there is still time. Any later, and we will run straight into their tanks!"
After stripping Pidd Ler of his uniform, the two men rushed out of the school that had been requisitioned as a command post and ran desperately toward the outskirts of the village.
But they had not gone far.
Two shells exploded nearby.
Splintered stone and gravel sprayed through the air, stinging Pidd Ler's face.
His temporary deafness prevented him from hearing the roar of engines that was already almost upon them.
Only after wiping the dirt from his face did he realize that a tank had stopped directly in front of him.
For a moment, Pidd Ler thought he was already dead.
He quickly raised both hands and shouted, "I am Pidd Ler! Commander of the Hungarian front line!"
He expected the tank crew to stop the tracks and arrest him.
But the man who poked his head out of the turret only gestured impatiently for him to hurry away, clearly mistaking him for a villager who had failed to evacuate.
Pidd Ler was overjoyed to have escaped death.
He ran toward the village entrance with all his strength.
But the farther he ran, the more frightened he became.
Countless tanks brushed past him.
There were Type IV S tanks, praised as Germany's new armored force, along with several light tanks. He even saw command tanks with their turrets removed.
If that were all, it might still have been bearable.
But behind those tanks came large numbers of German soldiers.
Pidd Ler could only smear his face black and pretend to be a villager, hoping to slip out of the village unnoticed.
Unexpectedly, Redd Ken Laman, commander of the Fourteenth Armored Division and one of Bock's old subordinates, spotted his abnormal behavior through binoculars.
"Stop!"
His voice rang out coldly.
"I will not repeat myself. Stop!"
A bullet struck the ground compacted by tank tracks.
Pidd Ler reluctantly raised his hands, still trying to pass himself off as an ordinary villager.
Redd stepped forward and felt the calluses on his fingers. He immediately knew the man before him was a soldier.
After taking a closer look at his shirt, he understood at once that this man was at least an officer.
"Speak. Who exactly are you?"
The translated words reached Pidd Ler's ears.
Realizing that he could no longer escape, he had no choice but to reveal his identity.
"Pidd Ler, commander of the Hungarian First Army Group on the front line."
Redd's eyes sharpened.
"Looks like I caught a big fish."
He waved his hand.
"Tell me everything you know."
Two guards stepped forward.
Their raised rifle butts made it clear that if Pidd Ler remained stubborn, his teeth would be smashed out first.
Even so, Pidd Ler still asked the question that had been gnawing at him.
"How did you infiltrate the second defensive line? That is impossible. The Italians deployed two divisions there. With the defensive fortifications, they should have been able to resist you for at least three days."
Redd flicked a cigarette in front of him and sneered.
"The Italians? Resist?"
He sounded almost amused.
"I never encountered any resistance. We bombed the defensive line with aircraft, then drove the tanks in front of them. The two divisions you mentioned gave up fighting."
"These damned fools!"
Pidd Ler's face twisted with rage.
"I thought they were Roman warriors who conquered the Mediterranean. I never expected them to be nothing but cowards who like eating pasta."
His words were full of regret for having trusted Italy.
"If the second defensive line had been handed to us, we definitely could have held you for a week. No, at least three days!"
Two days later, the Hungarian capital, Budapest, was left with only the third defensive line centered around Mark and Gwen.
Even this fragile third line had to endure pressure from two directions.
On the right flank, it had to face harassment from Germany's Slovak puppet army.
On the left flank, it had to withstand the powerful assault of two nearly full-strength German armored divisions.
Urban warfare seemed to be the best option for defending the city.
But the Italians did not think so.
.....
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