Chapter 564 So, the Regiment Chose to Live

December 7, 1915, Sixth Army Headquarters.

All the middle and senior officers who had not fallen ill gathered at General Frederick's window.

"General," the adjutant hesitated as soon as he spoke, looked back at the others, and then was frightened by everyone's eyes and turned back immediately, "General, our non-combat casualties are now as high as 50%. When we handed over the seriously ill to the Ants, many people simply surrendered and ran to the Ants."

General Frederick sighed, sat up - and then almost lay down directly, the strong dizziness caused by cerebral ischemia cut off all his thoughts.

The adjutant stepped forward and supported him: "General!"

"I'm fine." Frederick waved his hand, "So you are here to persuade me to surrender?"

Adjutant: "Do you still think we can resist?"

In the history of the Earth, the Sixth Army had the strength to break through. After all, the Russians on the Earth suffered too much loss, resulting in uneven quality of soldiers. Most of the troops in the Uranus Operation were recruits, and their combat experience and morale were far behind those of the Three Germans.

And the status of the Sixth Army on Earth was not so bad.

But the situation of the Sixth Army of Plossen was completely different. The Ante troops they faced had a large number of surviving veterans, and there were many guards prefixes in the encirclement troops. The veterans had experienced the baptism of war, and they were experienced and had a blood feud with the Plossen people, vowing to bury all the Plossen people.

The Sixth Army was in a serious state of ammunition and supply shortage before being encircled, and it quickly ran out of ammunition and food after the encirclement.

Frederick didn't know about the other time and space, but he was very clear about the situation of his troops.

Breaking out is impossible, and there are only two options left, death or surrender.

The general glanced at the officers, thinking that they didn't look like they wanted to sacrifice their lives.

The adjutant: "General, we have fought until the last moment, and we were still trying to attack until we were surrounded. We have done enough for the empire."

The general: "If we surrender, what will Rokossov's millions of troops do when they suddenly have nothing to do? Have you ever thought about it?"

"That has nothing to do with us." The adjutant said, "Our war is over."

The general coughed, and the adjutant hurried forward to pat his back.

After dozens of seconds, Frederick finally stopped and took a long breath, then he looked at the adjutant: "Do you remember the day you became my adjutant? Your father and your wife accompanied you to visit me."

"Remember."

Frederick: "Your father also wore the old military uniform of his time and wore his brigadier general rank. Your wife wore a blue dress and held your hand."

The adjutant looked puzzled: "This... yes, General, that was seven years ago."

"Have you ever thought about what will happen to them if we surrender? The Imperial Household Ministry will not let them go, they will be regarded as traitors and traitors!"

The adjutant was speechless for a moment, but someone among the officers behind him said: "We surrendered only when we had no choice but to fight to the end. If the emperor uses this matter to embarrass our relatives, he will lose the loyalty of the officers. I don't think His Majesty will do this."

General Frederick looked at the person who was speaking: "Yes, maybe not."

At this time, the sound of an engine suddenly sounded outside.

Frederick turned his head and looked out the window in confusion: "What's going on? Do we still have tanks that can be started?"

"It sounds like an airplane." The adjutant said, "The engine sound has an obvious Doppler effect, and it is approaching us quickly."

At this time, a soldier came in from outside the door: "Report, the air defense surveillance post saw a reconnaissance plane of our army flying at a very low altitude, flying towards the headquarters."

Everyone looked at each other.

Frederick lifted the quilt: "Let's go and take a look."

Because it was too cold, he also wore a military uniform under the quilt. After staying in bed for a few days, the uniform was full of wrinkles.

The adjutant hurriedly brought the coat and put it on the general.

The general who had just recovered from a serious illness walked very fast, without buttoning his coat, and just walked out of the door, standing in the ice and snow and looking up.

Today's weather is clear and cloudless.

The sound of the plane's engine became clearer, flying from the west.

Finally, an FW189 appeared in everyone's sight and dropped a "bomb".

The adjutant rushed forward to knock down the general, but was shouted back by the general: "Don't be nervous! The command will not send FW189 to drop bombs precisely just to blow us up."

The "bomb" just landed and disappeared into the snow.

Frederick: "Quick, dig it out!"

Several guards who were still able to move rushed forward with engineer shovels, and after some digging, they finally dug out something like an auxiliary fuel tank from the snow pit.

Frederick: "Open it!"

"No screwdriver!" The soldier reported loudly.

"Go to the anti-aircraft artillery position to get it! They have no ammunition, but there are still screwdrivers to repair anti-aircraft guns!" General Frederick's voice increased by an order of magnitude.

A soldier waded through the snow and ran out of the yard.

Ten minutes later, the auxiliary fuel tank was opened, and the first thing that came into view was a marshal's baton, with the "Imperial Eagle" on the head reflecting the sunlight.

Next to the baton was the "appointment letter" with a gold-stamped cover, and a letter with the royal seal of Plosson printed on the wax seal.

The soldiers did not dare to take these things, so they opened the "auxiliary fuel tank" and stood aside.

The adjutant stepped forward to pick up these things and came to General Frederick: "General... no, Marshal, look at this..."

Marshal Frederick did not touch the marshal's staff, but took the letter, opened the envelope roughly, took out the letter, unfolded it, and read softly: "Dear Teacher Wilhelm von Frederick, I still I clearly remember that you were my infantry tactics instructor when I was at Prossen Military Academy. I was intoxicated by your exquisite understanding of the art of war.

"Although you are behind bars now, I firmly believe in your quality and honor as a Proson soldier. I know that you must be coerced by those who are greedy for life and fear of death in the army, but you must also know very well that if you make a decision at this time, If you make the wrong choice, Proson's motherland will be severely damaged, and may even lead to the destruction of the country.

"Today, more than ever, the father of the motherland needs each of his sons to fulfill their duties. Yours sincerely, Emperor Plossen Reinhardt."

Marshal Frederick sighed and handed the letter to the chief of staff.

The chief of staff glanced at the letter without reading it carefully, and said: "The wording is very harsh. It makes it clear that he hopes that we will all die."

Frederick picked up the marshal's scepter and played with it in his hand.

"I... used to long for this extremely. Of course, as a soldier, who doesn't long to become a marshal?" Frederick showed a self-deprecating smile, "I never dreamed that I would get the coveted scepter under such circumstances. "

The chief of staff of the group army smiled and said: "After all, I got it. You are already at the pinnacle of your military career..."

"No, the pinnacle of a military career is winning the war." Frederick patted his palms gently with his marshal's staff, "Not like this."

Silence fell, the officers looked at each other, and the soldiers who were forced to participate in this matter could only stand in embarrassment.

Finally, Marshal Frederick seemed to have made up his mind and said to the adjutant: "Your wife and father will not be retaliated by the Imperial Household Ministry, because I will bear the responsibility for the defeat, as a responsible and honorable person." The soldiers did that. Chief of Staff, send an envoy to the Ant people and say that we agree to surrender."

The officers all showed expressions of relief, but the soldiers did not dare to show expressions.

Frederick continued to tap his palm with the marshal's staff: "I bear all consequences alone."

————

December 8th.

Wang Zhong stood on May 5th Street, waiting for the appointment time to arrive.

All Proson soldiers within his highlighted range have no fighting spirit and are all recognized as neutral.

Soon, he noticed a group of senior officers walking towards this side, the leader holding a white flag.

Wang Zhong: "They actually didn't hold up their white underpants."

Pavlov: "What?"

"I'm talking about the soldiers coming out of the building over there."

A group of Proson soldiers holding white sheets came out of the building shivering, placed their weapons at the designated location, and then rushed to the rice cooker eagerly.

At this time, a familiar face suddenly appeared, shining a light on the surrendering Proson soldiers. The "explosion" of the spotlight caused many Proson soldiers to lie down reflexively, and the Leba in their hands was inserted into the snow.

Wang Zhong frowned and turned to look for another familiar face, only to see reporter Mike walking towards him with a smile.

"I just thought you guys wouldn't be absent."

Mike smiled and said: "I missed it when you personally commanded the new tank to send the Plosen stronghold to the sky. I don't want to miss this big news again this time. Three hundred thousand Plosen soldiers surrendered!"

Wang Zhong: "Based on the establishment, it is 650,000. Yesterday, the Pulosen people submitted their complete troop establishment list, and the total establishment written on it is 650,000.

“Actually, there are probably more than 200,000 people who will surrender today, plus the 200,000 people who surrendered one after another before, the losses of the Prossen people are also quite large.

"I just don't know how much of this is the result of General Dong's battle."

"It's your victory, all of them." Reporter Mike smiled.

Wang Zhong: "You are still so good at talking."

Mike: "Of course. By the way, can my partner capture a historic scene today? A Prosin Marshal surrendering to Ant's army?"

Wang Zhong raised his eyebrows. In fact, he had already seen through the plug-in that there was no Marshal Frederick in the officer corps, but at this time he could only continue to pretend: "I hope so. Then I will be on the battlefield with Marshal Frederick." Let’s have a drink.”

Mike: "Like a naval officer in the age of sailing battleships? Yes, this theme will be popular."

Wang Zhong: "Then you have to thank me."

————

Frederick sat at his desk, looking at the photos of his wife and daughter, as well as the marshal's scepter.

A loaded Ruger was already on the table.

As long as he, the marshal, committed suicide and died for his country, the rest of the Sixth Army would not be held accountable by the Imperial Household Ministry for surrendering. This was the last thing he could do for the soldiers of the Sixth Army.

"But," Frederick gently stroked the cheek of his wife in the photo, "but this decision is so difficult, Erica. You can't imagine how much I miss you."

He sighed, put the photo on the table, picked up the pistol, and put the muzzle into his mouth.

When you pull the trigger, nothing happens.

Frederick carefully checked the condition of the gun, and finally thought that there was something wrong with the bullet.

He ejected the stink bullet, reloaded the gun, and wanted to put it in his mouth - but this time he hesitated.

After a long silence, Frederick turned the photo of his wife and daughter back and threw the gun into the drawer.

He stood up and shouted to the outside: "Quick! Go and inform the surrender delegation that I am waiting for the arrival of General Rokossov at the headquarters! I must surrender at my headquarters! After all, I am a marshal!"