Chapter 272: Loyal Fools
Hobart's gamble was correct.
Montgomery's support, combined with the assistance of the old general, gave the operation its most crucial foundation. The Royal Air Force committed nearly all of its attention to close air support.
For once, the British 1st and 3rd Armored Divisions received treatment almost comparable to German armored forces.
Despite frequent mechanical failures, and despite the soldiers' extreme dissatisfaction with the continuous high-speed march and nonstop combat, they still arrived at Ávila, the western gateway to Madrid, on the morning of February 15th.
They reached Ávila before the German Army could react.
In fact, by the time the British 1st and 3rd Armored Divisions arrived at Ávila, they were already extremely exhausted, and their infantry had not consolidated the front in time.
In the eyes of the German General Staff, this was actually an unqualified blitzkrieg, even somewhat forced.
As long as Germany responded in time, dispatched troops to expand the defensive positions, and waited for Manstein's main armored force to pacify Portugal, the British Army, which had been unable to take Salamanca for a long time, would have its supplies cut off and become lambs waiting for slaughter.
But José did not think so.
Madrid.
Inside José's luxurious mansion, although he had always regarded Jörg as a goal to pursue, José was only barely qualified in military and political affairs.
The overloaded working rhythm that Jörg maintained was completely beyond his comprehension.
Even during wartime, José did not choose to work through the night.
This also meant that José only received the frontline battle report on the morning after a night of revelry with his mistress.
"Mr. President, what should we do?"
Facing the report from his chief of staff, José, who had consumed illicit substances, appeared groggy.
But the moment he heard the name Ávila, he instantly became alert.
"What did you say?"
His voice sharpened.
"The British Army has reached Ávila?"
"What the hell is going on?"
"Where are the Germans? Where are our frontline troops? Why did they not hold the line?"
"I gave them our best elites, and now the Germans cannot even protect Spanish territory?"
José, still affected by the drugs, had already lost much of his ability to think clearly.
The barely acceptable military talent he had displayed during the Spanish Civil War had largely vanished after years of decadent living.
At this moment, he was no longer considering how to formulate tactics.
He cared only about his own safety and how to preserve his extravagant lifestyle.
"Mr. President, the situation is not yet that bad."
The chief of staff repeatedly lowered his tone, afraid of angering the President.
"I believe Germany will not stand idly by. What we should do now is deploy the 2nd Armored Division and 3rd Infantry Division stationed in the capital to form forward resistance."
"The British are not Germans. Their armored forces are not as strong."
"Our 2nd Armored Division is an elite unit fully equipped and militarized by Germany. It may not necessarily win, but it can certainly resist their advance toward Madrid."
José did not listen.
"Prepare a plane to Berlin for me immediately."
His voice trembled with anger and fear.
"I am not going to die here."
"An attack means risk. If I am at risk, then everything is completely over."
Still muddled, José boarded the plane without considering the consequences of his actions.
A country's president fleeing by plane.
The blow this dealt to morale was devastating.
The Spanish Advancing Army, which had originally held an advantage against the British, suddenly lost its fighting spirit.
Contradictory orders spread chaotically throughout Ávila.
Hold.
Do not hold.
Retreat.
Wait for orders.
This chaos caused the three infantry divisions defending Ávila to retreat toward Madrid without even seeing the British Army, directly surrendering the gateway city.
When Manstein received the news that the British Army had occupied Ávila, he was momentarily at a loss for words.
The Spanish units on the Eastern Front clearly possessed combat effectiveness comparable to some first-line German units.
Why did everything change completely once they were placed on home soil?
Now Madrid was in danger.
If the Spanish lost their capital again, everything would be over.
Thinking of this, Manstein could not help considering a retreat to reinforce the rear.
But very quickly, that thought was dispelled by a telegram delivered by the orderly.
"Sir, urgent telegram from Segovia."
Manstein removed his thick leather gloves and read the telegram word by word.
Only then did the familiar curve reluctantly return to his lips.
"Continue the attack."
He placed the telegram down.
"Do not worry about the situation inside Spain."
His tone regained its calm.
"I almost forgot about this helper."
Meanwhile, in Berlin.
Listening to Leah recount the intelligence about José staying at the Central Hotel, Jörg rested his head on one hand.
At the same time, he looked over the battlefield intelligence transmitted from Spain and revealed a helpless smile.
In recent years, he had also received a great deal of intelligence about this president from Heydrich.
Decadence.
Lavish parties.
Mistresses.
He could tolerate all of that.
Power, after all, was not something ordinary people could control.
And José had never possessed much ambition to begin with.
Even if José had become more exaggerated, even if he had turned from a somewhat shrewd opportunist into an idiot or a fool, Jörg could still tolerate it to a certain extent.
But this fool had dared to come to Berlin without even replying to his telegram.
Spain could be ruled by an idiot.
But it had to be a loyal idiot.
Jörg took a sip of red tea to suppress the anger in his chest, then spoke to his chief of staff.
"Send a telegram to the Spanish Ministry of Defense."
"Tell them to continue consolidating the front line. Our reinforcements are already on their way."
He then asked, "Are there any other troops within Spain?"
The chief of staff nodded.
"Yes, sir."
"General Vorbeck's Mountain Army, after completing its feint attack against France, has been stationed in Segovia for rest. It was only recently preparing to depart for North Africa."
Jörg nodded.
Fortunately, the North African front was not particularly intense at the moment, allowing Vorbeck's Mountain Army to be freed up to resolve this urgent situation.
If not for Vorbeck, sending additional troops now would be too late and would struggle to stabilize the morale of the Spanish Advancing Army.
"The British lack experience in rapid warfare. Their supply lines must be unstable."
Jörg's voice became steady and precise.
"Order Vorbeck to strike the supply lines behind Ávila and prevent the British Army from further transporting supplies and troops."
"While Vorbeck launches his attack, the Spanish Advancing Army is to launch an active offensive against Ávila, consuming as much ammunition from the British armored forces as possible."
"They will certainly send more support. They will not miss this excellent opportunity to attack the capital."
"But this will greatly relieve the pressure on our Army units in Salamanca and give us enough time for the two infantry divisions from Toulouse to return."
"Once Manstein completely breaks through Lisbon and cuts off every coastal port, I would like to see where the British can retreat."
After a moment of thought, Jörg continued, "Also, invite that pig José over to me."
Inside the hotel, José had actually sobered up on the plane.
He had already realized that he had made a foolish decision.
But because he could not bear the humiliation of returning, he only began to regret it after arriving in Berlin.
He wanted to meet Jörg, but he was too ashamed of his foolishness to speak first.
As he pondered how to phrase his request for a meeting with Jörg, a knock sounded at the door.
His confidant entered.
Seeing José still in his loungewear, he quickly said, "Mr. President, you had best put on a formal suit."
"Because Herr von Roman is looking for you."
The confidant swallowed nervously.
"And it is very urgent."
.....
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