In the northern part of Italy on the border with Austria, all towns and cities are in a state of emergency, this is not a drill, and a real war is coming.

Many people chose to hide in the basement with their families, and reinforced the doors, windows, and walls with all the wood he could find, and the horror of the Luftwaffe bombardment regiment had already taken root in the hearts of the people by this time.

Adult men from some border towns and villages were pooled to receive weapons and equipment from the reserve armoury of the border police, and they were temporarily organized into reserve regiments of the Black Shirts. At this time, no one cared whether these people were fascists or not, and at this moment as long as a man who could pull the trigger was obliged to take on the responsibility of defending Italy, whether they liked it or not, he had to go to the front to fight the invading Germans.

The Italians felt like they were dreaming for half a day, and most of them didn't even figure out why the Germans had declared war on Italy, so they entered a war in a daze.

The time was so rushed that many places were busy until midnight, only to find out that they hadn't even worked on basic defenses.

Hundreds of miles of the Alps, near the border between Austria and Germany, have been Italy's natural barrier to the north for thousands of years, and the rich Apennine Peninsula has been looted many times in its history by foreign enemies.

Brennello was an important port of entry between Italy and Austria and would undoubtedly be the first target, and it was the hub of the German-Italian rail network, and the Germans would do whatever it took to get their hands on it.

The commander of the Italian garrison, Giulio. Colonel Filiberto agreed, and was glad that the towns he was defending were strategically important to the enemy, meaning that they would not abuse bombers to carry out indiscriminate air strikes, as they had to keep the railroad facilities intact.

Filiberto was well aware of the weight of the burden on his shoulders, that there was no second line of defense behind Brennello, and that once the Germans occupied Brennello, Germany's mighty corps would be able to drive along the Alpine Railway and head into the fertile Po Plain.

But now Colonel Filiberto had only two dissatisfied infantry battalions and a border police brigade at his disposal. There were also two companies of Blackshirts, but they had their own chain of command and did not obey Filiberto's orders at all.

There is an army anti-aircraft artillery company stationed outside the city, equipped with eight small-caliber anti-aircraft guns, but I talked to the company commander on the phone before, and the other party said that because of the lack of repair parts for many years, only two 37mm machine guns can still fire normally. In the Colonel's view, this was a heinous and gross dereliction of duty, but for the time being, in order to stabilize the morale of the army, he could only express some dissatisfaction verbally, and he wanted to use all the forces at his disposal, and these gunners took up their rifles, which were at least more effective than the blackshirts.

Time flew by, and with only five minutes to go before the start of the war, the colonel, with his adjutant and two communications corps, entered the makeshift command post set up in the basement of the train station. The chief and deputy commanders of the two battalions were all rushed to the front-line positions by the colonel to supervise the battle, and the staff officers who remained in the command post were busy at the moment, and the officers and non-commissioned officers were running between the rooms and the aisles with a bunch of forms and maps, as if the German invasion had begun, and the colonel knew very well that these were for him to see.

Sighing secretly, the Italian colonel stroked his gray beard on his chin and strode into the command room, where the soldiers who were still spinning around like headless flies just now all stood still, raising their hands to salute the commander in a fascist salute.

"Connect me to Lieutenant Colonel Leonardo's phone, the phone line should already be connected, right?" The colonel threw his military cap on the map table.

"The troops have entered the highest combat readiness, and war will break out at any time." The adjutant handed a telegram to the colonel.

"It's all nonsense, what I need now is support, even if I send a few planes, at least to boost morale." The colonel crumpled the telegram and threw it on the floor.

"The call is on, Mr. Colonel." The communications non-commissioned officer ran over with a microphone in one hand and a telephone in the other.

"Leonardo? I'm Filipbeto... Yes, the sound is clear. What's the current situation there? Is there any movement on the other side? Not yet? Filiberto raised his wrist and looked at his watch.

"It's already past twelve o'clock, the Germans are very observant of the time, they will attack at any moment. Yes, I believe that your soldiers are all good, and you have to watch out for your own safety. Keep in touch with the command post at all times, you also have to watch out for your own safety, that's all, thank you, and may God bless you and my children too. Putting down the phone, Filiberto propped up the map table with both hands, and looked down at the military map full of defensive positions marked in red and blue pencils.

He only had a total of 530 formally trained soldiers, and the anti-aircraft artillery was just over 600, and he couldn't even make up half an infantry regiment. The only artillery company was equipped with four 65mm mountain guns of the 1913 model, and the ammunition was sufficient, although the style was a little older and the power was a little less, but at this time there was no room for picking.

The border police were evenly distributed between two infantry battalions as a reserve for the second line, and when the battle began, they could also help the logistics units and deliver ammunition and supplies to the front-line positions. The number of people is too small, and there is no way to configure any deep positions.

After all, the trenches and fortifications along the border are ready-made, and they have been there since the First World War, and every year the army organizes soldiers to carry out some necessary repairs and maintenance, but they never expected that they would be used one day.

As for the Blackshirts, they were thrown by the Colonel to the flanks of the front-line positions, assigned them a trench, and then let the men amuse themselves, and the combat effectiveness of these rabbles was not at all in the Colonel's consideration.

"Is all the explosives planted?" The colonel turned to a staff officer and asked.

"This... I don't know, I'm not in charge of that, sir. The lieutenant paused for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders in reply.

"Then go and find me the person in charge of this matter!" The colonel frowned and waved his hand.

"Yes, sir." The staff officer walked out of the room with a brisk step.

"What the hell," Filiberto felt a faint cramping in his stomach start again, and he sat down in a chair next to the map table.

The Italian colonel had never considered leaving the station and the attached railway facilities intact to the Germans, and if the line was lost, he would blow up all the facilities while the troops were retreating, and the Germans would end up with nothing but ruined ruins, which would delay the Germans for at least two to three days.

The problem was that he had no professional sappers on his hands, and only a few young officers had received some of the most basic explosives training in the military academy, so they had to make up for the lack of theoretical knowledge by increasing the charge, and the progress of the work was much slower than the colonel had imagined.

At that moment, a dull roar suddenly sounded overhead, and the entire basement trembled, and a large piece of green lime paint fell from the ceiling and smashed into a corner of the map table.

"The offensive has begun!" A staff officer exclaimed.

"Get through to the front?"

"It's bombing! It was a heavy bomb dropped by a bomber! ”

"Turn on the ventilation fan, it's all dust!"

"Merciful Lord!" The room was filled with the jumbled shouts of the staff officers.

"It's all quiet! Shut up! The explosion is still far from here. Filiberto stood up with a frown, slapped the map table vigorously, and shouted to stop the panic in the room.

"Sir, it's Lieutenant Colonel Petro! Their positions were bombarded by heavy German artillery! A communications non-commissioned officer reported aloud.

At this moment in this basement, you can clearly hear the faint roar of rolling thunder in the distance, and the ground covered with hardwood floors is also shaking slightly, and the chandelier hanging on the beams begins to shake slowly in this trembling. The staff officers looked at the ceiling in fear, knowing that this basement was only a civilian facility, without the slightest bulletproof function, and if an eyeless shell or bomb landed on their heads, they would surely be finished with the stubborn colonel.

"The Germans are not going to attack the station, they need this railway." The Colonel saw through what his subordinates were worried about, and he pretended to be calm and comforted loudly.

He would not admit that he had not thought of the Germans using heavy artillery, which was a huge mistake, and the Germans could have crushed their positions bit by bit with accurate artillery from within range of the Italians. He had never been bombarded by heavy artillery in his life, but he could imagine what those poor soldiers were going through and feeling at the same time a kind of fear on the front lines.

"I'm Filipbeto, what's going on? Did you see the Germans? What the? No! There must be no retreat, I don't care how many people you have lost...... It would be a shame for the Italian Army to retreat before the enemy infantry storm! I don't want to listen to any reason, you have to make your people hold on... Then let the reserves go up!

Bomber? Did they send bombers? How much can you see there? Just flew over your head? Well, Lieutenant Colonel Petro, we can't retreat without a fight, no matter how heavy the losses are, we must insist on staying in position, I will give you the order to retreat, I swear, but by no means now! Now your task is to hold on, hold back the momentum of the German offensive and buy time for the rear troops.

Yes, I will inform you in advance, so you can rest assured. At least another hour, this is the order, you understand no, this is the order! After yelling into the microphone, the colonel dropped the earpiece with all his might.

"Sir! Paratroopers, all over the sky are German paratroopers! "A sergeant rushed into the command post with a carbine on his shoulder, a wounded officer on his shoulder, and the poor fellow was half red with blood.

"Oh my God, this is Second Lieutenant Luca from the guard platoon." Two non-commissioned officers rushed forward to help the officer lie on the floor.

"Sir, I personally advise you to get out of here immediately, now there are German paratroopers everywhere outside, and I think there are at least a few thousand of them. The guard platoon may not last long, so please make a decision now. The sergeant gave the colonel a military salute, then turned and ran out of the command post.

"Phone, call Ensign Francisk quickly and order them to detonate immediately!" Filiberto reacted from the shock, and he commanded loudly.

"Yes, sir!" The communications staff officer hurriedly shook the crank of the magnet phone vigorously.

"Immediately burn all the classified documents in your possession, the Roman telegrams, the troop rosters, and the maps.... Right! Take this one away and burn them all. The colonel grabbed the map from the map table and shoved it into the adjutant's hand.

The communications staff officer next to the "colonel" reported.

"Go and get that suitcase in my room at once, none of the Ethiopian barbarians caught me Filiberto, and now the Germans don't want to catch me. Don't stand still, prepare to evacuate immediately, we don't have much time. Filiberto yelled at the staff officers, who hurriedly ran out of the room, and finally they did not forget to carry the second lieutenant Luca, who was only half breathing.

The old colonel had lost his usual composure at this time, was he a paratrooper after heavy artillery? The Germans could not fight a frontal battle with dignity.

"Colonel." The communications staff officer continued to call.

"I should have destroyed everything in the warehouses if I knew it, and I couldn't leave it to the Germans at all." Filiberto muttered, then turned to look at the communications staff.

"Why are you still here? What's the matter with you! Oh, by the way, did Ensign Francisk get in touch? ”

"Electric... The phone line was cut! The communications staff officer carried the microphone and reported to the colonel with a sad face.

"What! Damn it! Then what are you doing standing stupidly, you immediately go and make a trip yourself, tell the second lieutenant that it is my order, and immediately detonate all the explosives they have planted. The Colonel's bloodshot eyes were fixed on the communications officer in front of him, and his right hand rested on the holster at his waist.

"Yes, yes, Colonel." The communications staff officer hurriedly saluted Filiberto, turned around and hurried out of the command room like a rabbit in the middle of an arrow.

"It's all a bunch of incompetent cowards!" Filiberto spat on the floor.

Before the words could be spoken, a few crisp gunshots rang out in the corridor outside, and then I saw the communications staff officer rushing back to the command post faster than just now.

"Germans! German paratroopers! The staff sergeant pointed to the door and shouted, as he quickly ran to the file cabinet in the corner of the room and hid.

"Coward!" Colonel Filiberto spat again in the sergeant's direction, then reached out and pulled his pistol from the holster at his waist.

"Hands up! Throw away the weapon, you already have no way to escape .... Major. Three German paratroopers stood at the door of the command post with submachine guns, led by a corporal who spoke Italian with a strong German accent.

"Colonel! It's a colonel, look at this rank clearly! Soldier! Filiberto threw his pistol on the map table, then raised his hands in the air.

PS: Sorry it's a little late today, continue to ask for a monthly pass, ask for a recommendation, ask for a click,

Thank you all for your support. (To be continued.) )