What the hell is a private enterprise?

Chapter 249 Coffee Beans (1200 Monthly Tickets in April)

"Oh, God!"

All the original top officers of the Falkland base had slipped back to the mainland before Christmas Eve, and Tyron was actually the highest-ranking officer here.

Even though he desperately called for a mobilization, only half of the officers arrived at the camp in a daze within half an hour. Many of them were completely unprepared for battle, disheveled and unarmed. Some even had their fellow villagers bring them in on motorcycles!
Tyron was not only angry at the almost lax vigilance, but also alarmed by the fact that the Second Fleet had fully revealed its true colors.

After being completely exposed, two Ar.196 reconnaissance aircraft tentatively approached the island at low altitude, intending to investigate the situation of the shore base with the mindset of total loss. Apart from some trucks, they could not see anything at all, and there were only a few hundred people scattered around.

The entire Falkland Islands had a population of only three thousand, and the number of British troops stationed there was just over a thousand. With frequent leave requests and daily shortages, there were only a few hundred people left, leaving only three or four hundred capable of responding.

Missiles? No! Warships? No! The only rudimentary port only has some ordinary civilian ships and patrol boats, which pose no real threat.

The Second Fleet then boldly continued to approach and slow down, while reducing the distance to 500 meters.

The seven warships were lined up about 5 kilometers apart, with the closest, the Scharnhorst, coming within 1.5 kilometers. Even those with good eyesight could see its enormous size with the naked eye.

The hundreds of people who had been urgently assembled at Tyron's command all looked bewildered, standing on tiptoe to look at the red Christmas fleet.

As Tang Wen had predicted, the strongest equipment on the island consisted of a few vehicle-mounted howitzers, and there was absolutely no counter-attack capability.

If that Second Fleet were truly a battleship, a single salvo would send them swooping to their deaths.

Tyron wanted to do something, but seeing the few veterans holding rifles, he swallowed his anger.

Even so, the firepower of that destroyer could easily overwhelm them.

Among the soldiers were naval enthusiasts who had already recognized the well-known ships and climbed up to take a bunch of pictures with their cameras.

With these guards in front of us, let alone attacking, we'd probably have no choice but to retreat to the wilderness in the middle of the island and wage guerrilla warfare!
Having fully grasped the situation, Tyron was extremely anxious. He had reported it half an hour earlier, but had not received any reply.

However, considering his responsibilities, he still felt uneasy continuing to communicate with the Second Fleet.

"Unknown fleet, the High Seas Fleet scuttled itself in Scapa 77 years ago. There has never been a Second High Seas Fleet in history, and the Hans Fleet, which was rebuilt later, has never inherited the title of High Seas Fleet. You are not the real German Navy."

Bismarck: "We are certainly not the two fleets from eighty or fifty years ago. We are the descendants of the Empire, coming with an indomitable will of steel."

Tyron: "The empire is long gone. Europe now has new allies, and Hans and we are staunch allies."

Bismarck: "The Empire will always exist, and everything will be fine as long as the Second Fleet destroys the Atlantic shipping lanes."

"..."

Tyron was at a loss for words, but then he finally received his boss's reply.

"Damn you, Tyron, I order you to be suspended from duty immediately!"

The caller immediately launched into a barrage of angry rebukes, followed by a voice filled with exasperation:

"If you're drunk, you can wear a dress to a costume party instead of messing around with intelligence here. The entire Navy is laughing at us; they say it's the funniest Christmas prank ever. Are you satisfied now?! Huh??"

"Wait, I need to explain to you...where are you? I can send you photos!"

"Fool, are you trying to fool me?"

"Please listen to me... Beep beep."

"F**!" That's how troublesome it is in the pre-information age. Tyron couldn't even take a picture and send it over in seconds using a 4G network. He was speechless with frustration.

He could only find someone to fix the fax machine, only to discover that the shore was crowded with people watching the spectacle.
Yes, the ordinary soldiers and the island's residents all noticed the commotion. They had almost no military knowledge and, seeing the all-red warships, assumed it was a Christmas celebration and greeted the commotion without understanding what was going on.

Only a few people who knew the situation panicked like him and secretly left the crowd to find a place to hide.

Tyron almost fainted because he lost his balance.

……

"Perhaps we should send some gifts!"

Seeing the enthusiastic residents on the shore, Tang Wen completely relaxed.

The Falkland Islands have only scattered small outposts, and most of the 1.2 square kilometers of coastline is unguarded. The effective field of view of the radar stations is only two or three kilometers. Even if the fleet slows down, it will soon be out of their range.

With less than two minutes left in the countdown to capture the territory, this was practically the easiest victory yet.

But since we're already here, we should leave something behind.

"Battleships, form a single file and fire at the 10 o'clock position!"

The turrets of the four battleships immediately began to spin with the hum of their motors, pointing neatly diagonally towards the sky.

The lead ship, the Tirpitz, opened fire first, with its eight 380mm main guns suddenly erupting in several dazzling bursts of fire as it fired a salvo directly at the air.

About three or four seconds later, the people on the island who had seen the flames heard the thunderous roar.

At this moment, Tyrone forcibly ordered a patrol boat to set sail. The sailors, who were about to start the diesel engine, turned around in horror at the deafening sound of cannon fire and saw the Tirpitz with the smoke still rising and the Bismarck firing.

This time, the Bismarck used all eight gun barrels to fire in turn, resulting in eight bursts of flame that created a series of rapid and intense explosions.

Now everyone knew that this was indeed a battleship fleet.

Scharnhorst and Gleisenau followed closely behind, their 18 guns continuing to fire into the air.

Feeling the vibrations from the patrol boat's thin sheet metal, the sailors who had boarded the boat retreated back the way they came, staring at Tyron in disbelief.

"..."

This was the first time in his life that Tyron had witnessed so many cannons firing. He felt a tickle on his face and then realized that sweat was dripping down his forehead. He calmly changed the order:
"Ask if the photos were taken and report it immediately."

The people on the shore were initially frightened by the sound of cannons, but after realizing there was no intention to attack, they became even more excited, and then they saw four Ar 196s flying over.

Four seaplanes approached the only small port, slid down to the limit and were about to crash before suddenly pulling up, each leaving behind two iron barrels bouncing on the water.

After dropping eight huge iron barrels, the four planes sped away, following the fleet that was gradually disappearing from sight.

A daring sailor retrieved the nearest iron bucket, opened it, and found coffee beans wrapped in oil paper inside.

With a complicated expression, Tyron opened a bag and tasted it. It was indeed of excellent quality. Eight large barrels of top-quality coffee beans would definitely be a huge sum of money.

Meanwhile, the sailors surrounding the barrels realized this and scrambled to retrieve the remaining iron barrels.

(End of this chapter)