December 6, 1940, which was a Friday, at that time there was no concept of a weekend, and workers were required to work six days a week. The eight-hour workday has long been popularized in European companies, but more than 14 hours a day is becoming more common in European factories, spurred by the propaganda of governments to rebuild Europe. Of course, entrepreneurs need to pay some overtime for this, but these additional expenses are not worth it at all with a good return on profits.

"This month's production will increase by 30 percent, and we have organized workers to work in three shifts to ensure that we can complete the orders placed by the Air Force within the scheduled time." With a smile on his chubby face, the workshop director diligently introduced to the Luftwaffe lieutenant in front of him.

"While increasing production, we must ensure the quality of the product, which is directly related to the life safety of pilots, and the product is not allowed to have any defects, and I don't want to see anyone lose their head for this." The lieutenant explained with a serious expression.

"Mr. Lieutenant, every product here is processed according to standard procedures, and after completion, it has to go through strict quality inspection, I have been working in this factory for twenty-seven years, and there has never been a single substandard product that has left the factory." The workshop director swore an oath, and because of his emotion, two red tides appeared on his round cheeks.

"Mr. Huber, I trust in your managerial abilities, and unfortunately I can no longer continue to work with you, and I will be succeeded by Ensign Schmidt in the future." The lieutenant grinned and reached out and pulled his gloves out of his pocket.

"Lieutenant Hoffman, are you no longer working as a production supervisor? Is something wrong? Huber asked, with some concern. Although this young Air Force lieutenant is a little rigid in dealing with people, which soldier is not like this in these years, although the two sides have only cooperated for half a year, but the factory director has begun to like this serious Air Force officer.

"No, no, no, where do you think of it, Mr. Huber, it's just a normal job transfer." The lieutenant of the Air Force wore black leather gloves.

"May I ask, which unit were you transferred to? Will we ever have a chance to meet in the future? Huber asked.

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you the exact unit, but I'm sure we'll see you again in the future, Mr. Huber." Lieutenant Hoffman raised his hand and saluted the workshop director in a dashing manner, then turned around and strode out the door.

"The plane will take off at ten o'clock sharp, and it will be too late if it doesn't depart, sir." Seeing the lieutenant go out, the non-commissioned officer waiting on the barrel car reminded loudly.

"Don't worry, I'm just saying goodbye to my old friend," the lieutenant walked over to the car, pulled the door open and sat in the passenger seat.

"Schulz, have you brought all the orders and documents?"

"Bring it all."

"Has the baggage been checked again?"

"I've checked, and none of your precious books are missing." The sergeant put the lever into gear and lifted his leg to step on the accelerator.

"There are only twenty hours left until the operation begins, gentlemen." Lieutenant Sparrow said with a serious expression, his eyes scanning the group of commanders under him.

"This time, our company is still the vanguard of the whole regiment, which is an honor and a responsibility." Lieutenant Sparrow paced slowly past the neatly lined up commanders.

"The people here are all veterans, so I don't need me to teach you what to do, but I will only remind you at the end that Germany wants everyone to do their duty." Sparu walked to the head of the group with his hands behind his back.

"Tanks! Advance! The commanders puffed up their chests and shouted.

"Disbanded, everyone has to complete the combat readiness of the vehicles before dinner, start the engines every four hours after midnight, and check the spare fuel tanks and batteries again for each crew, and I hope that all the vehicles will be kept in the best condition when they set off." Sparu commanded loudly.

"Yes! Sir! The commanders saluted the company commander with their chests straight, and then dispersed in pairs.

"Sir, the phone number of the regimental command." Sergeant Rem poked his head out of the tent with a telephone receiver in his hand.

"I'll be right here." Sparo dusted off his uniform and reached out to lift the curtain hanging from the tent's entrance.

German armoured regimental headquarters usually have a direct communications platoon, and usually a medium-sized field line squad of three trucks is responsible for laying a wired telephone network between the headquarters and the position. Under the technical conditions at that time, the wired telephone was the most commonly used means of communication, in addition to the content of the call was not easy to be detected by the enemy, and the quality of the call was far superior to that of the radio equipment of the same era. Armored units are not in a state of mobile combat all day long, and when they are stationed in the rear or transferred to a positional defensive combat situation, the communication between the units basically relies on field telephone lines.

"I'm Sparous." The armored company commander picked up the phone and said.

"Yes, Your Excellency!" The lieutenant jerked out his chest and slammed the heel of his boot.

"The second battalion and one company are on standby, sir.... Thank you for the compliment, sir! Sparu took the earpiece in a different hand, and shook his finger at Rem with the other.

"Pen!" The company commander shook his hand and slapped away the cigarette handed by the radio operator, and he whispered to Rehm.

"Yes, I'm listening, sir. . . No problem, Your Excellency Chief of Staff. I'm recording. Spam took the pencil that Rehm had handed him, pulled the latest issue of Wehrmacht magazine on the table, and wrote it on the cover.

"Area Three... Seventy kilometers ... Abdullah. Root. Fidil... Red pennants. Need me to repeat it? Sir. Sparou put down his pencil.

"Yes, thank you very much, and I wish you all the best, Your Excellency the Chief of Staff. Okay, goodbye, Your Excellency. Sparu let out a long sigh and gently hung up the field phone.

"Do you know who I was talking to?" Sparrow turned his face to look at Rehm.

"It's Major General Hasay, Chief of Staff of the Corps." Before Rem could answer, Sparrow had already spoken out loud.

"Our company has come into the sight of the corps command, and the chief of staff has personally called us to assign tasks. Rem, do you know what that means? Sparoo waved the magazine in his hand excitedly.

"It means that the second company is about to become famous, Rem, we have been regarded as an ace by our superiors." Lieutenant Sparrow threw the magazine on the table.

"This is the latest issue of the magazine, Lieutenant, and I haven't even had time to read it." Rem pouted and continued to turn the handle of the coffee grinder.

"It's just a cover, and it's nothing to look at anyway." Sparou tore off the cover of the magazine where the mission was recorded.

"You continue to stay on the phone, and I'll go talk to Ensign Landsdorf about things now." The armored battalion commander folded the cover and put it in his breast pocket, reached out and tugged at the hem of his uniform, and then straightened his appearance in front of the glass mirror hanging from the pillar of the tent.

"Do you want to boil the coffee?" Rem asked, looking up.

"Let's make a pot first, and I'll drink it when I get back." Sparrow nodded at Rehm, then turned and slipped out of the tent.

"Lieutenant Commander Randolph, Captain Rudolph has arranged for you four officers' cabins." On the pier at the base in Zibilit, a captain reported to Randolph.

"Please convey my thanks to Captain Rudolph, Captain." Randolph had a gentle smile on his face.

"Need help getting your luggage into the cabin?" The captain asked respectfully.

"No need, the commander here, Major General Wilkham, is very enthusiastic and has arranged a few Indian servants for us, we just need to send someone to show them the way." Randolph took off his tropical helmet and pretended to take out a handkerchief to wipe his sweat.

"No problem, I'll arrange it as soon as possible, Mr. Lieutenant Colonel." The captain gave a military salute to Randolph.

"Goodbye, second lieutenant." Randolph put on his helmet and returned with a military salute.

"It's a big boat." Jürgen stood beside Randolph and looked up at the large cruise ship docked at the docks.

"The German Navy's transport ship [Cybertron] used to be KDF's [Wilhelm. Gustloff]. But we're not on this boat, we're on that side. Randolph gave a thumbs up and pointed behind him.

"That's the German Navy's newest assault landing ship, the Eziangol." The SS lieutenant colonel's face was full of pride, and those who didn't know it thought he was the captain.

“【Erzengel】... Archangel Michael? Jürgen tilted his head to look at the large landing ship painted in blue-gray camouflage.

"This is the name given by the Führer himself, the [Archangel], isn't it beautiful." Randolph turned to face the assault ship, his hands on his waist.

"Is it the name of the Führer himself? Sure enough, it feels completely different from other boats. With a look of awe-inspiring wonder, Jürgen saluted the warship.

"I'll tell you a secret, the name of this [Cybertron] was also changed by the Führer, and you know that the Führer knows William. Gustloff, felt that it was unlucky for the cruise ship to use this name. Randolph said nonchalantly to Ergen.

William. Gustloff, who was the head of the Nazi Party branch in Switzerland, was arrested in 1936 by a Croatian Jewish student, David Gustloff, who had been the head of the Nazi Party branch in Switzerland for his anti-Semitic propaganda and the public sale of Nazi books. Frankfurt was assassinated with a pistol.

As a result, this became the new evidence of the Nazis' anti-Semitic theories, which led to another wave of anti-Semitism in German society. In honor of this friend who "sacrificed" for the cause of the Nazis, the Nazi government named a cruise ship purchased by the KDF (Kraft durch Freunde), a vacation organization affiliated with the German Labor Front, as "Wilhelm Gustloff".

Historically, this cruise ship was torpedoed by the Soviet submarine S-13 in the Baltic Sea on January 30, 1945 and sank, when the ship carried more than 10,000 German civilians who had evacuated from East Prussia, and only 1,252 people were rescued in the end, because there was no boarding record, no one knew how many passengers were really killed, and it can only be estimated according to the rated number of passengers, about 9,200 people. William. The Gustloff incident became the largest shipwreck in human history, and fortunately, this chilling record was not broken until Xu Jun crossed.

"According to the arrangement of the Afrika Army Command, the [Cybertron] will be used to carry British and French troops." Captain Horn flipped through the papers in his hand.

"The Grey Swords team has all boarded the ship, Major Jürgen." Captain Dietretz carried a briefcase and reported in small steps.

"Have you sent all the equipment? Always make sure you don't miss anything. Jürgen said with a calm face.

"Understood, Major, I'll go check again at once." Dietretz gave a quick salute, turned around and ran briskly towards the landing ship.

"It's a good day, Major Jürgen, and hopefully tomorrow will be a good day too." Randolph looked at the sky with his hands behind his back, and a formation of fighter jets flew slowly in the air, and the faint hum of engines could be heard in his ears.

"Hopefully tomorrow will be a good day, Kurt." Major Wycombe leaned back against the fence on the side of the bridge, looking up at the sky.

"Don't worry, the weather forecast says that tomorrow is also a sunny day, it looks like BF109, it's our plane." Captain Kurt took off his tropical helmet and put his hand on the pergola to look into the air.

"Tomorrow's air cover will depend on them, and I hope that this landing operation will go as smoothly as Sicily." Wycombe lowered his head and turned his face to look at the loading deck, which was in the middle of a busy hustle and bustle.

In this landing operation, Wycombe would not only command the 3rd Motorized Reconnaissance Battalion, but he would now be the commander of a motorized task force, which would be supplemented by an SS special forces and a mechanized combat engineering company in addition to the 3rd Battalion's own troops.

The mechanized engineering company was tasked with repairing the Yanbu Port dock facilities that might have been damaged during the battle, and to construct a temporary field airfield for the alternate landing and refueling of Army aircraft providing air support to the troops.

At present, the range of German military aircraft still exists, although the range can be increased by attaching auxiliary fuel tanks, but at the same time, the maneuverability of the aircraft and the weight of bombs will be reduced accordingly. At present, there are fewer than three airports in the Arabian Peninsula that can accommodate large aircraft, one of which is in Riyadh, the capital of Saudi Arabia.

The only thing the Germans could use at the moment was the Aqaba airbase in Palestine, and the rest was Zibilit in Suez, Egypt. The straight-line distance from Suez to Riyadh is more than 1,500 kilometers, and even if it takes off from the Aqaba base, it is more than 1,200 kilometers away from Riyadh, which is already beyond the combat radius of the current German main bomber HE111F, not to mention the group of short-legged Stuka and Mercedeschmidt.

Therefore, the establishment of field airfields in advantageous positions in the enemy's territory has become one of the primary tasks of the attacking forces. Field airfields should not only be located on a flat terrain, but also be easy to defend on the ground, and at the same time must be well connected with fuel and ammunition by land. Therefore, the location of a field airfield cannot be determined by patting one's head, and it is necessary to have professional air force technicians to survey and evaluate, and select the most suitable location to build the airfield in a bunch of target areas.

"That's the car of Sergeant Snarl of the Third Company, Second Platoon." Cotter pointed to the FZ234/2 heavy eight-wheeled armored vehicle hanging under the huge cantilever of the dock crane.

This kind of heavy wheeled armored vehicle, which was not produced until four or three years in history, was now built early with the intervention of some of God's apostles. This heavy wheeled armored vehicle, an improved version of the eight-wheeled heavy armored vehicle chassis of the FZ234/1 type, was equipped with an armed turret mounted with an MG40 machine gun and a long-barreled 50 mm gun with a diameter of 60 times.

With speeds of up to 84 km/h on the road and 30 km/h off-road, this armored vehicle can no longer be considered a pure armored vehicle, but should be considered a wheeled combat vehicle strictly speaking. Because it has the firepower of a tank, the power of the 50 mm caliber KK39/L60 gun may not be very strong in 43 years, but in 1940, the penetration depth of 1,000 meters and 36 mm was enough to threaten some early models of tanks.

This wheeled armored combat vehicle was named "Saber-toothed Tiger" by Xu Jun, and the first batch of eight prototypes with experimental nature, all of which were given to the Afrika Korps, this vehicle has historically played quite well in tropical desert areas, and Xu Jun believes that after his improvement, this vehicle should perform even better.

The 3rd Reconnaissance Battalion received four of these saber-toothed tigers, and the two armoured reconnaissance platoons received two each.

"Sanlian was arranged to land in the first wave this time, and I can finally see this guy's performance on the battlefield." Wycombe put on the brim of his tropical helmet and watched as the armored vehicle slowly descended onto the deck.

"Got in place, untie the cable." The crew on deck ran up and began to untie the ropes hanging from the hooks.

"How's it going? Snarr! Major Wycombe asked aloud.

"No problem, sir." Sergeant Snarr, who was standing next to the armored car, waved vigorously at the battalion commander.

"Kurt, I've always wondered why Snarl chose that logo." Wycombe turned back to Kurt.

"Maybe it's a personal hobby, or maybe it's a family coat of arms." Kurt replied with a smile.

"Don't talk nonsense, I've never seen anyone choose this as their family coat of arms." Wycombe said, pointing to the eight-wheeled armored vehicle on the deck.

I saw this saber-toothed tiger with a sand-yellow paint all over the battle, in addition to the red squad vehicle number on the side of the turret, a huge four-legged snake was painted with black paint.

PS: The two-in-one chapter is presented, and I continue to ask for everyone's monthly pass support, and there are only two days left until the end of the month.

Thank you for your support, the latter one is still chasing after it, and the pressure on us is still not small.

Tomorrow's update time is about the same as today, and it's also this time, and it's still a big two-in-one chapter.

The author continues to work on it.