The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943-Chapter 135 - 145: Bayerlein’s Helplessness

Whether the Americans could be relied upon was hard to say, but Pierre never liked leaving his fate in the hands of others. Almost as soon as he received the order to defend Bastogne, he immediately ordered Sun Delin to lead two search battalions from Metz to reinforce the position.

"Abandon all heavy weapons, just bring the men..."

The order couldn’t have been simpler: reach Bastogne as quickly as possible, before the Germans could complete their encirclement.

As for weapons and ammunition, Bastogne was not lacking. After all, the Germans had abandoned so many weapons in the Ardennes that it was more than enough to arm not just one division, but five or six. Most of these weapons had already been transported to Bastogne by the search teams.

The only problem was manpower.

Upon receiving the order, Sun Delin didn’t hesitate for a moment. He immediately ordered his troops to set out by vehicle. Without the burden of heavy weapons, and barely needing to bring extra ammunition, the 5,000 reinforcements arrived at Bastogne almost on the same day as the German attack.

The Bastogne garrison finally exceeded 10,000 men!

At the Allied headquarters in Verdun, Eisenhower was unaware that a batch of reinforcements had reached Bastogne, but he was still trying to strengthen the local forces—in reality, by ordering retreating American troops to hold Bastogne.

"We have about three battalions there, two of which are artillery. My suggestion is to temporarily appoint Major Harry Jefferson as acting regimental commander and have him take over the defense of Bastogne..."

As soon as the staff officer finished speaking, Bradley interjected directly.

"This is not the time to complicate things. Those Chinese will never accept the command of a major, Ike."

Nodding in agreement, Eisenhower asked, "How many troops do we have there?"

Bradley replied, "About two regiments now. They’re facing three German divisions! But those divisions aren’t at full strength."

"Even if they’re understrength, they’re still three divisions," Eisenhower said, then asked, "How long will it take the 101st to reach Bastogne?"

In Eisenhower’s view, only American troops could hold Bastogne; the task force was just a stopgap.

"About three days..."

Three days...

Would the Germans give them three days?

No one knew the answer.

But three days later, the news arrived.

On the third day at Bastogne, the Germans maneuvered behind the town, cutting it off from the outside world. The newly arrived 101st Airborne Division ran into German forces and their attack was repelled by German combat troops.

Upon hearing this news, Eisenhower opened his mouth, stunned for a long moment. Then he turned to Bradley and said, "It seems we..."

"Ike, we must do everything we can to open the road to Bastogne. That place is the key to this war now."

Even someone with no military background could see the importance of Bastogne, the junction of seven roads and railways. If the Germans captured it, they could drive straight through and break open all of Belgium.

"But can they hold out?" Eisenhower asked.

"Ike, have you read Wedemeyer’s report? The Chinese fought the Japanese for seven years with worn-out rifles and a handful of bullets. They can definitely hold out for seven days there. Seven days..." Bradley said.

"In seven days, we’ll definitely be able to break through to Bastogne. What we need now is..."

"They’re just fighting there for seven days, that’s all."

At this moment, Bradley appeared extremely confident. However, compared to his confidence, Eisenhower felt far less certain. What unsettled him wasn’t anything else, but the weather.

"The weather..."

Turning to look out the window, he saw that while Verdun was basking in bright sunshine, the Ardennes mountains were being battered by heavy snow.

"There’s no sign of the blizzard in the Ardennes letting up. Even if our planes could make it there, they wouldn’t be able to provide any support."

"That’s exactly what the Germans are counting on. The harsh weather has weakened our air power. Without air support, the Germans have regained the advantage on the battlefield."

"Without air support, can they really hold out for seven days?"

Eisenhower didn’t know the answer, and neither did Bradley. But soon, they received an answer—from Bastogne: "We have always been fighting without air support."

...

Amid fierce shelling, the air was thick with the acrid smell of sulfur, and violent explosions had reduced the town to ruins. Under the cover of two StuG III assault guns, the infantry advanced through the relentless barrage.

The ruins trembled slightly beneath the tank treads. Amid the rubble, Zhao Yingshi saw several white-clad figures charging toward him beside the assault gun. He raised his STG44 and pulled the trigger.

But the gun didn’t fire—the magazine was empty.

"Who’s got a magazine? Anyone still got a magazine...?"

Having already used up his bullets in the earlier counterattack, Zhao Yingshi could only draw his pistol from his waist, firing as he called out to his comrades.

"Rat-tat-tat..."

A comrade nearby fired his assault rifle from the hip, spraying at the group on the street. Amid the scattered, muffled rifle shots, the Germans began to return fire. As the assault guns roared, the positions of his comrades were blasted sky-high.

"Damn it..."

Seeing a comrade fall in a pool of blood to his left, Zhao Yingshi cursed, then crouched low and dashed over. He dove to his comrade’s side, rummaged through his tactical vest, and found two magazines. Quickly reloading, he raised his assault rifle and unleashed a burst of fire.

A thunderous explosion erupted behind him.

Zhao Yingshi turned to see a crumbling wall reduced to rubble by the blast. Several comrades nearby were either lying in pools of blood or buried under the debris.

"Retreat! You guys go first, I’ll cover you!"

The wounded soldier lying in blood shouted angrily at his comrades who refused to leave, even pointing his gun at those beside him. He still managed to pull out his magazines and toss his tactical vest to the nearest comrade—after all, a tactical vest could save a life, as it could stop bullets.

Then, clutching his assault rifle, the wounded comrade kept fighting. Soon, the frantic gunfire fell silent.

"Ah...!"

The screams and grenade explosions behind them made Zhao Yingshi and his comrades howl like dying beasts. Tears blurred their vision. They didn’t know if they would ever make it back to Hengshan, but at that moment, their tears flowed—for they knew their comrade had sacrificed himself for them.

On the battlefield, they were all willing to lay down their lives for each other.

With tears in his eyes, Zhao Yingshi numbly dragged his injured leg, stumbling forward.

Just then, a shell exploded not far away. The massive shockwave knocked him over and he lost consciousness. Who knows how long passed before the rumble of artillery woke him again. The German guns were still thundering.

After a while, Zhao Yingshi shook his groggy head and tried to get up from the snow by the roadside. Looking around, he saw that his comrades had already left. Feeling for the dog tags around his neck, he found only one remaining—clearly, his comrades had assumed he was dead.

Quickly, he ran toward his own defensive line. To outsiders, he might already be dead, but he knew he had to keep fighting for his brothers—both the living and the fallen.

Behind him, the Germans who had taken the town were like wounded beasts, licking their wounds. The corpses scattered on the ground and the burning assault guns and tanks inside and outside the town were stark reminders of the terrible price they had paid.

"One assault..."

Looking at the casualty report in his hand, Bayerlein couldn’t help but complain.

"One assault—we’ve been charging for four days..."

After four days of attacks, there had been almost no progress. The city remained firmly in enemy hands.

Worse still, the losses they had suffered here were already approaching the limit of what was acceptable. If things continued like this, his unit might lose its ability to attack. After all, Kampfgruppe 901 had already lost over a thousand men and more than twenty tanks.

Such heavy losses had gained them only a few insignificant villages.

"Damn it, those Chinese fight even more tenaciously than the Russians."

Having fought the Russians on the Eastern Front, Bayerlein now understood why the Japanese had fought in China for seven or eight years and still failed to defeat them. There was nothing they could do—the Chinese were simply too tenacious. Not only that, on the battlefield they were a group of utterly fearless warriors.

Just a few days of combat had given Bayerlein a real sense of what these Chinese soldiers were like.

To have such soldiers is the dream of every officer.

Desire—facing an army like this in battle is truly every soldier’s nightmare.

Yet even with this realization, Bayerlein had no other choice. He could only order his troops to attack again and again. After all, this city was a necessary gateway on their advance into Belgium. Even though the main force had already bypassed it, being stuck here was simply not an option.