Chapter 27 : Last days Of Parlpadia (1)

                                    

                                          

Landings near Duro, Operation Wesenburg (phase 3),
"go ! go ! go!" yelled an voice
As the transport hit the beach, soldiers died as Parlpadians booby trapped the beach and in the crossfire of their howitzers, among the landing part was the Field Marshall himself, Erwin Rommel, cursing himself
"damn it, where are the Panzers!"
"Marshall Rommel, the tanks are 5 minutes away"
Rommel turned back to see that, it was none other than chief of staff General Martin Von Moltke who was very trustworthy to Rommel, despite being young, Moltke was an talented tactician like his ancestors, Helmuth Von Moltke the elder, as both shook hands, bullets whizzed past them, both ducked under an small boulder.
It was 1 hour when they landed, Only Pocket battleships had ample firepower to provide supporting fire against the Imperial forces, Rommel was miffed that the outdated Imperials might even defeat them in this small battle,  but hearing that the Panzers are coming, they might win after all, he wonders how those Austrians are faring in Parneus (it was an cakewalk for the Austrians) 
"Once the Panzers arrive, tell the men to go behind them and call n our half tracks, we haven't seen them yet!"
Hyuuuuuuu....
BOOM!
It was the outfitted Bf 109's dropping 250 pound bombs on the imperial trenches, sent by the escort carrier SMS Baden , when the soldiers looked in the air, they smiled as they knew the battle is won,
As this renewed their offensive, some German brigades charged wildly with the rest following behind, Rommel and Moltke, swept by the devotion of their men joined in as well, as they stormed the trenches, Rommel felt claustrophobic as he felt PTSD from the Italian Isonzo campaigns, still not as bad as Verdun, these bastards are more suicidal than the Pizza eaters who fought like hell in the Isonzo campaigns, feeling his reflexes, he shot 8 Imperial soldiers to death, while Moltke gunned down 10 charging Parlpadian soldiers with his trusty good ol' MP-40 
Moltke stormed an small compound shooting whatever that moved, while Rommel walked towards an particular cabin, shooting to death the two men inside, as he realized the 'documents' in front of him were letters sent by the Parlpadian's soldier's families, war never changes, it doesn't matter whatever side you are on, he felt an stone cold amount of emotions running through him, an minute later, an officer came inside and talked
"sir the beach has been captured and it's garrison capitulated"
"how many are lost?"
"181 dead, and 300 lightly or heavily injured"
"what about them?" asked Rommel as he got up
"about 6,800 , sir"
Rommel felt some sort of guilt, war never changes, there are good people on the side of the Parlpadians as well, all overshadowed by one certain bitch, he wished the war to end as possible, several thoughts ran through his mind as he boarded his command tank, Tiger 131,
He launched the final assault capturing Duro and killing 30,000 of it's garrison, rest 80,000 surrendered, all of this with less than 800 dead and 1200 wounded for the Germans, , but now, they are poised out to begin their long awaited assault.
Holy Mirishial empire, Cartalpas, the 'certain' bar,
The drunk patrons of the bar chatted as usual, after all, one who wants to hear spicy gossip must come to the port city
"Guys, guys, guys! did you hear that 700 ships of the imperial navy was defeated by less than 10 warships of the central powers??" asked an drunk in utter astonishment