Chapter 277: No Surprises
Despite the tremendous effort and sacrifice made by the 16th Infantry Division, the most critical financial district was still captured by British soldiers at eight o'clock that night.
Their only remaining point of resistance was the church command post where Riel was located.
At ten o'clock, the final offensive against the church was launched.
Although many Spanish officers advised Riel to surrender, the stubborn division commander merely shook his head.
He shouldered his MP submachine gun and delivered his final speech to the few remaining soldiers.
"Gentlemen, soldiers."
"I have some unfortunate news to share with you."
"Today, it is highly likely that we will all die here and become the first German unit to be annihilated as a complete formation."
"But this is not a disgrace."
His voice was hoarse, but still forceful.
"On the contrary, it is an honor."
"It is proof that we fought for Germany until the end and shed our last drop of blood."
"Our comrades will avenge us."
"Our nation will sing our praises."
"Because everyone standing here is a hero."
"Our bodies may be torn apart by gunfire, but our spirit will live forever."
The words themselves were deafening, but what truly inspired the soldiers was not the speech.
It was the sight of their division commander, covered in bandages, still carrying a submachine gun and preparing to fight beside them.
The soldiers shouted in unison.
"Forward."
"Germany."
Riel nodded.
"Now, pick up your guns."
"I promised the General Staff that the 16th Infantry Division would resist for three days."
"Three days."
His eyes swept across every soldier.
"Not a single day less."
Riel did not break his promise.
The British Army's final offensive lasted until dawn.
By then, they were no longer able to capture the final urban district.
Because Manstein's armored units had already arrived directly behind them.
German tanks were wreaking havoc among the various British artillery positions.
The British Expeditionary Force's 1st and 3rd Armored Divisions were trapped in the quagmire of encirclement and could no longer escape.
In truth, this outcome had already been doomed from the moment they became bogged down in the bitter siege.
Even if Riel had failed to fulfill his promise, even if the British Expeditionary Force had successfully captured Salamanca, they would not have had enough time to consolidate their positions.
They still would not have escaped destruction.
Two days later, as the German Air Force gained complete air superiority and the infantry divisions from France arrived at the front, the British Expeditionary Force was forced to retreat into the ruins they had destroyed with their own hands.
The next day, the 1st and 3rd Armored Divisions attempted a forced breakout.
They were intercepted by Manstein's 3rd Armored Division.
Under the combined attack of the Spanish 2nd Armored Division and the German Mountain Corps, they endured ten hours of encirclement and assault.
At dusk, the 1st and 3rd Armored Divisions declared their surrender.
They had clearly been only one step away from launching an attack on Madrid.
But now, that step seemed impossibly distant.
With the surrender of the armored units, the final hope of the British Expeditionary Force was completely extinguished.
The next morning, senior British officers led by Major General Airel Scheno, commander of the 12th Elite Infantry Division, formally submitted their letter of surrender to Manstein.
Germany's undefeated general, a model Junker officer, had swallowed another thrilling victory.
But the cost of this victory was heavy.
In order to resist the attacks of the British Expeditionary Force, Germany suffered a total of twenty-six thousand casualties.
Spanish troops and residents suffered nearly sixty thousand casualties.
Civilian losses were immeasurable.
As for Britain, they suffered fifty thousand casualties.
The remaining seventy thousand attacking troops were all captured.
Of course, for Manstein, the greatest cost was the death of Division Commander Riel.
This iron-blooded general, who had sworn to defend Salamanca to the death, had led a charge during the British Army's final round of offensives and lost his life alongside his staff officer.
The surviving soldiers wrapped the division commander in the military flag and placed him in the center of the church.
Around him were burning cigarettes, standing in place of candles.
This was the final farewell gift these numb warriors could offer their division commander.
Manstein lifted the military flag.
Riel's departed face made his own calm expression sink involuntarily.
At last, the twitching at the corners of his eyes turned into a sorrowful sigh.
"Did Division Commander Riel leave a suicide note?"
The current highest-ranking commander of the 16th Infantry Division was a battalion commander.
Almost all the other senior officers had been wiped out.
He had been promoted step by step from battalion commander to acting division commander.
"No, sir."
The battalion commander's voice was hoarse.
"He only left me one sentence."
"If the 16th Infantry Division was not destroyed and held out for three days, but he had already died, please bury his body here and let him sleep with his soldiers."
"Fulfill the promises he made on his behalf."
The battalion commander lowered his head.
"After all, Halka Riel never lies."
Manstein nodded.
"Gather all the bodies and choose a good place to bury these heroes."
"As for Riel's promise, I will fulfill it for him."
British prisoners of war dug shallow pits on the hillside.
The surviving soldiers of the 16th Infantry Division turned over the bodies of their comrades one by one, identifying them by their papers.
Those without identification were compared against photos from the roster.
Crosses made of broken wood rose from the ground.
The German names left on them belonged to the German soldiers who would sleep here forever.
Division Commander Riel's grave stood at the very top of the hillside.
And on a cross not far from him, the name Peach Kawisi shone exceptionally bright beneath the sunlight.
If Germany had paid a price and won the defensive battle, then Britain had paid an even heavier price and won only the bitter fruit of failure.
Although Montgomery, taking advantage of the absence of Manstein's main armored divisions, drove back the German defense forces in Santarém and recaptured this gateway city, that was all they had.
As the German forces on the front line converged, more than two hundred thousand British and Portuguese troops were trapped within the encirclement.
They could only rely on cargo ships, frequently attacked at sea, to transport supplies.
Middle and high-ranking officers, including Churchill, all knew the truth.
They had lost again.
On the other side.
Berlin.
Looking at the telegram sent from the front line, a smile appeared on Jörg's face.
"Tell Manstein that he can notify the troops to take a short rest."
"But he is not the one who deserves the greatest credit for the Portuguese campaign."
His voice grew solemn.
"Riel is."
Seeing that the Commander in Chief was in a good mood, the staff officer could not help but be infected by it.
"Your Excellency, Commander in Chief, we have noticed that Portugal possesses some interests in East Asia, including a port city adjacent to British interests in the region."
"The Navy is asking whether we should allow a unit to board American merchant ships, secretly enter Portuguese territory, and seize control of this port city."
Jörg thought for a moment, then nodded.
"This has great significance for our commerce and even our strategy."
"I will greet our friends in East Asia."
"Britain is now an old dog with a broken leg."
"Our future enemies are their colonies, Soviet Russia, and even more likely, Japan."
He paused slightly.
"Perhaps even their combined forces."
"After all, as long as nations share a common enemy, the speed at which they unite will always exceed imagination."
Taking a sip of black tea, Jörg gazed at the map of East Asia.
For a long time, he remained deep in thought.
....
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