Chapter 988: The Battle in the Dead of Night

American bombers dropped a barrage of bombs near the fires they had seen. Harried by a combination of German anti-aircraft guns and night fighters, these aircraft struggled mightily to carry out their mission. This battle marked the first real bombing raid by American strategic bombers against Germany; their previous best effort had been a flight over Romania.

This time, they could finally complete their mission, to strike a fatal blow against a vital German target. But the situation before them offered no time for celebration. They were still deep in dangerous territory, a long way from the relative safety of the open sea.

The bombers, now lighter without their bomb loads, flew a little faster. The American planes, which had been scattered by flak or chased into a chaotic mess by night fighters, painstakingly reassembled in the night sky and began their return flight to their base in Iceland. They had just completed a major bombing mission; now their only task was to escape.

Escape! A desperate flight for their lives. In the pre-dawn darkness, they had to find their way home, to find a sliver of hope amidst the German flak-filled skies, to evade the pursuit of the mysterious and terrifying night fighters… It wasn’t that their luck was particularly bad; in this war, far too many had it far worse.

For example, at this very moment, next to the outer wall of the ore processing plant, a hapless German patrolman had shouldered his rifle and was running as fast as he could toward the trouble spot. He didn’t know what he alone could accomplish; he only knew that he had to fulfill the oath he had sworn before the flag.

He came from that proud little town, the birthplace of the famous saying, “Even if we all fall, Germany will endure!” He had always been proud of his identity, so at this moment, he felt from the bottom of his heart that he should step forward and add to the glory of his village.

And so, he carried his weapon, hugging the base of the wall, and circled around the exposed positions, closing in on the section of the outer wall that had been breached by the anti-aircraft gun. He approached cautiously, trying not to make a sound.

At that moment, the Norwegian resistance fighters had clearly figured out the knack of firing. A second shot went out not long after. The shell flew straight into a factory building behind the courtyard wall, blowing a huge hole in the wall. The massive destructive force might have also damaged some machinery, but it was too dark to see clearly.

The German patrolman squinted as dust from the blast wave billowed around him. He felt his way to the breach in the wall, poked his head out to look at where the enemy might be, but because the night was too dark, he could only vaguely make out the shadow of the cannon.

Without the slightest hesitation, he pointed his rifle in that direction, carefully aiming at the shadow of the cannon. He knew his weapon could not damage the anti-aircraft gun, but he had to stop them from firing, to stop them from destroying the precious factory equipment.

The faint sound of Norwegian voices came from the anti-aircraft gun position. The German patrolman could even feel his own heartbeat. But he still decided to do what a soldier should do, to fulfill his duty as a soldier in this position.

Crack! At the barely-there shadow in the darkness, the German patrolman fired his first shot. He then nervously reloaded and fired a second. He noticed the enemy did not return fire, so he reloaded a third time and fired a third shot at the dark shadow.

Aksel had taken over command from the old man and was busy directing the use of the cannon to attack the German factory. He felt he wouldn’t be discovered immediately, because the outside was in chaos, and the sound of gunfire would not attract too much attention. So these unprofessional Norwegian resistance fighters had not set up any outer defensive positions. They were all crowded around the cannon, completely stunned by the power of this German weapon.

“Load faster! Load faster!” while tending to the old man, Aksel urged his comrades to load another shell into the cannon. He knew his time was probably short, so his hands trembled nervously.

“Son… my boy…” The old man had been moved away from the cannon so it could be fired. He was now leaning against two empty ammunition boxes, looking as if he were on his last legs. But he still managed to speak, saying to Aksel beside him, “Finish… finish them off quickly… all, all the shells you can. The Germans… the Germans will be here soon.”

Aksel had never witnessed the true reaction speed of the German army. He had only practiced shooting with a hunting rifle in the secluded woods and had never received any formal military training. Now his mind was in a turmoil, and he couldn’t come up with any effective countermeasures for the current situation.

This was the case with most of the underground resistance organizations. In most cases, they had just stood up to resist with a heart full of passion and their own ideals, but they had no concrete plans or implementation steps. They were just resisting their fate of enslavement with their own passion.

Their actions were certainly worthy of praise, but in the process of fighting, due to their own lack of quality and training, they had paid a heavy price. For example, this Norwegian resistance squad was now in such trouble.

Just as everyone was preparing to fire the third shell, a bullet suddenly struck the Norwegian resistance fighter who was adjusting the traverse of the cannon. It could be said that the German patrolman’s luck was too good, or that this Norwegian’s luck was too bad. In any case, the patrolman’s first shot had hit this poor fellow, piercing his chest.

Before anyone could even react, a second gunshot startled the Norwegian resistance members who still didn’t know what was happening. They were so scared they quickly hit the dirt and pulled the submachine guns from their backs. But in their panic, these men did not know where the bullets were coming from, and their terror also made them not know just how many Germans had arrived here.

After all, they were a group of civilians who had not been through strict training. When a real battle began, they were not as composed as regular soldiers. This group of people, gathered together, could only fight a battle that was going their way. Once they were bogged down in a tangled stalemate, the timid side of their hearts took over.

By the time the German patrolman had fired his third shot, these Norwegians had finally found the location where the enemy was firing from. And so a dense hail of bullets began to sweep towards the place where the German patrolman was hiding. The submachine gun had an unparalleled advantage in close-range suppression. A string of bullets sent the rubble there flying.

The German patrolman had killed an opponent purely by luck, but these Norwegian resistance members had aimed, after all. They had seen the dazzling muzzle flash in the night, had roughly seen the German’s position. But these men were only focused on shooting and had forgotten to assign men to continue to operate the more powerful 88mm anti-aircraft gun.

“Cease fire! Stop shooting!” Aksel finally realized the problem. What they lacked now was precious time. For them, who had luckily captured a cannon, time was the number of German factory equipment they could destroy! But they were now wasting time, wasting the opportunity they had so hard-won.

In a place like this, the longer they delayed, the greater the possibility that the German army would close in. And for them, these inexperienced civilians, the arrival of a large number of German troops was very disadvantageous. So what they should be doing now was to use the cannon to continue to bombard the factory buildings, not to waste ammunition and time for the sake of killing one German.

He had just managed to stop his comrades’ endless shooting and then began to assign tasks. “You few, go and continue to operate the cannon! Aim for the factory buildings and keep firing! The rest of you and I will suppress the Germans over there!”

Unfortunately, the more mobile German troops had already arrived. The factory area’s defense force, having received the alarm, had immediately dispatched a platoon of German troops to the vicinity to investigate what was happening. As soon as these thirty-odd German soldiers had arrived nearby, they had heard the sound of dense weapons fire.

If they still didn’t know what was happening now, then these German soldiers’ brains were for nothing. So, with a command from the German platoon leader, the 30-odd German soldiers spread out and, under the cover of the night, approached these Norwegian resistance members who were constantly firing at the wall.

Compared to just now, it was just that the roles of the attacker and the defender had been reversed. This time, it was the Germans who were attacking, and the poor Norwegians who were defending. The same was that the side that occupied the cannon had not discovered the impending danger. They were all continuing their own battle.

Soon, the Germans had approached to a distance where they could easily launch an attack. The covering German troops had habitually set up their covering machine gun in a patch of bushes. All preparations had been made in silence. With a command from the German platoon leader, these German Wehrmacht soldiers immediately displayed their fighting style as the world’s strongest army.

The machine gun fired a dense, short burst in the direction of the high-angle gun. The tracer rounds drew a straight line in the darkness as they flew towards the target, striking the metal body of the cannon and kicking up a brilliant shower of sparks. Two terrifying MP-44 assault rifles, with their precise bursts, directly took out two of the still-firing Norwegians. The sudden firepower sent these resistance members scrambling for cover. Their originally quite strong firepower was also instantly and completely suppressed by the even stronger German firepower.

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