Anti-Japanese War: The whole world is a base vehicle

After a short rest, the Italian army launched another attack on the British positions.

This time, Rommel stood in the observation post, watching everything quietly. His expression was calmer than before, and less shocked than when he first saw the Italian army fighting.

Rommel, a German general known for his outstanding military talent and perseverance, once created miracles on the battlefield.

He is well aware of the cruelty and complexity of war and is accustomed to facing various difficult situations.

But the performance of the Italian army challenged his bottom line again and again. At this moment, he stared at the actions of the Italian army on the battlefield, with a hint of helplessness and worry in his eyes.

The Italian army's attacking team seemed somewhat disorganized, the soldiers' steps lacked tacit coordination, and their formations were not neat.

The officers shouted loudly in the ranks, trying to restore order, but with little effect.

As they approached the British position, the sound of British gunfire suddenly rang out, and dense firepower poured towards the Italian army like a net of death.

The Italian soldiers suddenly panicked. Some soldiers subconsciously stopped and looked for cover to hide; some soldiers blindly fired at the British positions, completely disregarding the accuracy of the shooting and tactical coordination.

The tank units performed equally badly. Instead of advancing according to the predetermined tactical formation, they fought on their own. Some tanks even deviated from the attack route and fell into sand pits in the desert.

Seeing this scene, Rommel's heart sank completely. He sighed in his heart: "How can such an army win the war? We must transfer our own troops as soon as possible, otherwise, the outcome of this war can be imagined." He could no longer tolerate the Italian army's poor performance. In his opinion, this was simply a blasphemy to war.

However, reality dealt Rommel a heavy blow.

The troops directly under his command would not be able to reach the front line in the short term.

A large amount of equipment needs to be transported, and those advanced weapons and sophisticated equipment are an important guarantee for the combat effectiveness of his troops.

He would never accept his troops going into battle with such tattered weapons. This was not only irresponsible for the lives of the soldiers, but also disrespectful to war.

So, despite his anger, he could only endure it and watch the Italian army using advanced weapons to fight a terrible war.

The battle was still going on fiercely, and the Italian army gradually fell into trouble under the tenacious resistance of the British army.

Their attacks became increasingly weak and the morale of the soldiers became increasingly low.

Finally, under the fierce counterattack of the British army, the Italian army began to retreat.

Their retreat was equally chaotic, with the soldiers abandoning their weapons and armor and looking disastrous.

Looking at the performance of the Italian army, Rommel could only sigh in his heart.

But he still tried to force a smile on his face, and said to Marshal Graziani beside him: "Marshal, they have made great progress." This sentence was not so much an affirmation of the Italian army as it was a perfunctory response that Rommel had to make in order to maintain his relationship with the Italian army.

Marshal Graziani smiled with relief after hearing what Rommel said.

He sincerely felt that the Italian army's combat effectiveness had improved a lot after the reorganization. Although they did not capture the British position this time, they at least held out for two hours.

In his opinion, this is already a significant improvement. In the past, this was simply unimaginable.

Looking at Marshal Graziani's sincere expression, Rommel couldn't break through this illusory appearance and could only cooperate with him in acting.

He thought to himself: "Marshal, can you really not see the problem with the Italian army? How long can you keep deceiving yourself like this?"

On the opposite position, the British soldiers looked at the retreating Italian troops and couldn't help but make fun of them.

"I don't know what these Italian troops want to do. They always collapse at the first touch." An old British soldier couldn't help but say as he wiped the rifle in his hand.

He had experienced countless battles on the battlefield and was no longer surprised by the performance of the Italian army, but every time he saw it, he couldn't help but complain a few words.

"Yeah, it feels like acting," echoed a recruit nearby.

He had just joined the army and this was his first time experiencing such a fierce battle. He was very surprised by the poor performance of the Italian army.

"I think they are not here to fight, but to deliver supplies to us," another soldier joked with a smile.

His words caused laughter from the surrounding soldiers, and the tense battle atmosphere was eased a little.

The Italian army's defeat seemed like a farce, and the British army's ridicule seemed like an episode in this farce.

But for Rommel, all this was extremely heavy.

He knew very well that if he wanted to change the current situation of the war, he could only rely on his own troops to arrive as soon as possible.

He began to frequently contact the rear, urging the troops to speed up their march.

Inside the British headquarters, Admiral Cunningham's expression, compared to his previous anxious and nervous expression, now appeared unusually relaxed, as if a heavy shackle had been lifted from his body.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, tapping the table rhythmically with his fingers, and looked through the window of the headquarters toward the desert in the distance shrouded in war.

Once upon a time, facing the relentless pressure from the German-Italian coalition forces, the situation on the North African battlefield was precarious, and Admiral Canniin was shrouded in a heavy haze every day.

He tossed and turned in sleep countless times in the middle of the night, worried about the British army's defensive deployment and troop shortages. Anxiety spread like a vine in his heart.

However, not long ago, he received a promise from Prime Minister Churchill, which was like a ray of light that penetrated the layers of dark clouds and illuminated the hope in his heart.

Churchill made it clear that a steady stream of reinforcements would be sent to the North African battlefield.

Once upon a time, the British Empire might not have attached such great importance to North Africa, but things are different now. Oil has been discovered in North Africa, and this precious strategic resource has instantly changed the entire situation.

Oil is like the blood of war. Whoever controls it will have the opportunity to take the initiative in this brutal war.

In order to keep North Africa and defend the port of Alexandria, the whole of Britain went all out.

The reinforcements sent from India were rushing in day and night, crossing thousands of mountains and rivers, carrying the mission and determination of the British Empire. At the same time, an elite force was also drawn from the mainland, which was the trump card of the British Army. They were well-trained and well-equipped, and every soldier was eager for victory.

In addition to the reinforcement of army forces, the Home Fleet also launched a large-scale operation.

Aircraft carriers and battleships were dispatched one after another. These sea giants, like steel monsters, braved the wind and waves on the rough sea.

Their appearance undoubtedly greatly enhanced the British army's maritime strength.

Admiral Canniin was well aware of the importance of naval power to the North African battlefield.

As an important stronghold of the British army in North Africa, the security of Alexandria’s sea transportation lines is of vital importance.

Only by completely defeating the navies of the three countries can we ensure the unobstructed operation of this lifeline and provide solid logistical support for the British army's operations in North Africa.

He seemed to have seen the scene where those powerful warships were lined up neatly on the sea and engaged in a fierce naval battle with the navies of the three countries.

The shells exploded on the sea, stirring up columns of water into the sky. The muzzles of the warships spewed flames, and the soldiers of both sides fought bravely on the decks.

He clenched his fists and secretly made up his mind that he must use these powerful reinforcements and naval forces to fight a desperate battle with the German-Italian coalition forces in the North African battlefield to defend the dignity and interests of the British Empire.

He looked forward to the day of victory when he would see peace and tranquility in Alexandria again and see the British army regain a foothold in this land.

Admiral Kanan Ning stood in front of a huge battle map, holding a telegram in his hand, a rare relaxed smile on his face, but this smile was mixed with deep suspicion.

He slowly shifted his gaze from the map to the staff in the headquarters, and asked, "What exactly do those Italian troops want to do? Are they showing weakness? Or are they trying to lure the enemy deeper into their territory?"

Admiral Kananning's voice echoed in the quiet command center, carrying a certain unquestionable majesty.

The reason why he raised such a question was because the Italian army's performance on the battlefield was too bad, so bad that he could not believe that this was a true reflection of its strength.

A scene from not long ago emerged involuntarily in his mind. At that time, the Italian army was beaten back by the natives. On the air battlefield, the Italian Air Force failed to gain much advantage. The two sides fought fiercely in the air. The smoke of the air battle filled the sky over North Africa. The Italian fighter planes suffered heavy losses under the counterattack of the native air force.

But now the situation has changed dramatically.

The Italian army not only won the initiative on the battlefield, but also recovered some of the positions that had been lost before. Such a huge contrast made Admiral Canniin, who had been on the battlefield for a long time, feel alarmed.

He knew very well that there would never be victory or defeat without reason in war, and there might be an unknown conspiracy behind it.

He frowned slightly, a hint of vigilance in his eyes, and examined the telegram in his hand again, as if trying to find a clue from the densely packed text.

"It shouldn't be. Maybe this is the combat effectiveness of these Italian troops." The combat staff hesitated for a moment, stood up, and said with courage.

Although his voice was not loud, it was particularly clear in this quiet command center.

There was a hint of nervousness on the staff officer's face. He knew very well that what he said might go against the admiral's idea, but he still decided to express his own judgment.

He slowly walked to the map, pointed to the Italian army's route marked on it, and continued, "From their previous combat operations, the command was chaotic, the soldiers lacked tacit cooperation, and the use of equipment was not reasonable. Perhaps their so-called "victory" now is just due to our momentary negligence, not some carefully planned conspiracy."

Admiral Kananning listened quietly to the staff officer's analysis, his eyes following the staff officer's finger as it moved on the map.

He had to admit that what the staff officer said was indeed reflected in his previous observations of the Italian army.

The Italian army's performance on the battlefield was often confusing. Their attacks lacked order, and the soldiers were like a pile of loose sand on the battlefield, fighting on their own.

The coordination between tank units and infantry was almost zero, and it was common for tanks to advance deep into the enemy's territory alone while the infantry could not keep up.

In a fierce battle, the Italian tank troops rashly rushed towards the British positions without the cover of infantry, and were easily repelled by the British anti-tank firepower, resulting in the loss of a large number of tanks and soldiers.

However, Admiral Cannin's doubts were not completely eliminated.

He shook his head slightly and said, "Although what you said makes sense, we cannot take it lightly. Behind any seemingly unreasonable phenomenon in the war, there may be enemy tricks. We must strengthen reconnaissance and pay close attention to every move of the Italian army." His voice was firm and powerful, and his eyes revealed the calmness and caution of a veteran in the battlefield.

He knew very well that in war, a small negligence could lead to total loss.

Afterwards, Admiral Cannin turned around and issued a series of orders to other staff officers: "Immediately send additional reconnaissance troops to monitor the Italian army's movements from all directions from the air and ground. If you find any abnormalities, report to me immediately. At the same time, strengthen our own defense deployment, raise vigilance, and prevent sudden attacks by the Italian army." The staff officers took orders and acted quickly. The command center suddenly became busy, with the sounds of telegrams and footsteps intertwined. A reconnaissance and prevention operation centered on the Italian army's true intentions quietly unfolded.

The British command was holding heated discussions and taking strict precautions regarding the unusual behavior of the Italian army, but the Italian army had no idea that they were being scrutinized so vigilantly.

If the Italian army knew about the British army's suspicion and vigilance towards them, and understood the British army's true thoughts that they must have a conspiracy, they would probably be put in a very embarrassing situation.

Because they really don't have any profound strategic layout, the reason for their poor performance is simply that they are too incompetent.

At this time, the Italian army was facing serious logistical problems. The supply lines were too long and chaotic, and the transportation of materials was often blocked, resulting in a lack of food and clothing for the soldiers on the front line, and insufficient supply of weapons and ammunition.

Soldiers often suffered from hunger and thirst under the scorching sun, and the performance of their weapons was greatly reduced due to lack of maintenance and parts replacement.

Under such circumstances, the Italian army had no morale at all. The soldiers were full of negativity and resistance to fighting. They were timid and had no fighting spirit on the battlefield.

"Marshal, I suggest mobilizing the Blackshirts." At a military meeting, a young officer finally couldn't help but stand up and said to Marshal Graziani with a serious expression. His voice was particularly abrupt in the slightly dull meeting room, and everyone's eyes were instantly focused on him.

"What? Mobilize the Black Shirts?" Marshal Graziani was shocked when he heard this.

He widened his eyes and looked at the officer in front of him in disbelief, his face full of astonishment and hesitation.

As a special force in Italy, the Blackshirts have always been known for their loyalty and fanaticism, but at the same time, their style of doing things and organizational characteristics have always been controversial within the army.

Marshal Graziani knew very well that mobilizing the Black Shirts was no trivial matter. It not only meant a major adjustment of military forces, but could also trigger a series of complex impacts.

The conference room suddenly fell silent, and everyone held their breath, waiting for the Marshal's response. (End of this chapter)