Chapter 84 I named the Emperor; Lockheed's invitation
Chapter 84 I named the Emperor; Lockheed's invitation
Chapter 85 I named the Emperor; Lockheed's invitation
"Adapting to low-light and dim-light environments is the most basic subject in special operations."
After saying that, Sean threw the paratrooper squad into an indoor simulated environment, turned off the surrounding lights, and kept only a faint visible light.
The paratroopers held their weapons, adjusting their posture to the light.
Hanni watched with amusement.
"Sir, why do you do this? What's the point of this kind of training?"
Sean stood to the side, took out a cigarette, and lit it for himself.
"Special operations do not distinguish between day and night. During long-distance infiltration, soldiers need to adapt to various natural environments. At night, visible light is reduced, so in order to ensure their combat effectiveness, they need to be trained in advance."
Hanni suddenly realized, "I understand now. It's like how German pilots sometimes played cards in a dark room to adapt to night combat, and they even formed a special night combat air squadron."
"Yes, day and night are different; the difference is significant."
Sean leaned against the wall, exhaling smoke.
Hanni looked on with admiration. Your Excellency's thinking was very comprehensive; this kind of training is almost never seen in the army.
"So paratroopers should actually be doing nighttime training?" Hannie asked cautiously.
"That's right. Most of the current airdrops are at night and in the early morning because the low visibility makes them harder to detect by air defenses. Night training is also riskier, but it's essential."
Sean knew that countries around the world had become interested in paratroopers after seeing the German Air Force, but paratroopers weren't just about knowing how to parachute.
"Equipment is delivered via airdrop, guided to specific locations, and allows for rapid escape; this is a systematic unit."
Hanni silently noted it down: the German airborne guerrillas were expanding and would come in handy.
"Sir, I have found you a qualified construction contractor. He is from New York, thirty-five years old, a meticulous and steady German-American from Bavaria, Germany."
"Really? Isn't that the same hometown as Augustus von der Heidegger?"
"Yes, he should be outside the gun shop by now. Would you like to see him?"
"OK."
Sean walked downstairs with a cigarette in his mouth.
The Los Angeles police officers training on the first floor all greeted Sean.
"Sir, Italy is going to lose. You are absolutely right."
"Haha, that's a curse. Sorry, sir. What I mean is, you can't be wrong. The LAPD has always trusted you."
"Thanks."
Hearing them say that, Sean laughed happily. How could he be wrong? Even if Italy attacked in advance, it couldn't make up for his own problems. There was nothing surprising about losing to Greece.
Outside the gate stood a thin, blond man in a sharp suit, accompanied by a pretty blond little girl.
Sean happily placed his hands in front of his chest and gently shook them, pulling his arms back and forth.
If he makes the right decision again, his fame will grow even greater, and fame equals wealth. His network and career will also grow further.
No man would be unhappy.
Hanni, following behind, sighed inwardly. Her husband's dance moves were full of a shock to modern trends. What kind of dance was this? Did Lord Sean invent it too?
The little girl at the door stared wide-eyed at Sean dancing, her eyes sparkling.
"Dad, who is that strange man?"
The man looked down and stroked his daughter's head. "That's the German American hero, Sean Wayne."
"Our hero?"
"Yes."
The girl listened to her father's words and remembered them forever. Is this what it looks like for a hero to celebrate victory?
She memorized Sean's movements. "Dad, can I teach my brothers the hero's dance when I grow up?"
"Of course, honey."
"Mr. Sean, I am Frederick Christ, TMP!"
Who do you say you are?
TMP?
Sean was shocked and immediately stepped forward to take the man's hand.
Do you have a boy named Donald?
"I don't have a younger brother named Donald."
The man was shocked and looked embarrassed. "Yes, Mr. Sean, I don't have a child named Donald right now."
This is impossible!
Seeing Sean's questioning gaze, the man lowered his head. "This is my eldest daughter, Mariana."
The older sister of the bed.
Sean looked at the girl curiously.
"They say you are our hero, sir."
"Yes." Sean smiled and patted the three-year-old girl's head.
"Dad, if we have a younger brother, we'll name him Donald."
The man laughed heartily. "Thank you, Mr. Sean. I think it's a great idea."
Hahahaha.
Sean suppressed a laugh, thinking to himself, "So, you're the one I named you."
"Wow, I'm honored. That's a great idea. I'll tell him later that I named him."
Christ smiled happily as well, "I will, sir, I will make him remember."
Hahahaha!
Sean was laughing inwardly, thinking he should have chosen an even worse name.
"I'll teach him to dance too," Mariana said, mimicking Sean's movements.
Sean almost spat out his drink; it turns out he's spent his whole life imitating me.
"Mr. Sean, I guarantee the quality of your house's construction. May I take a look at the land?"
"Okay, let's go take a look now, Heidel."
"arrive!"
The paratroopers immediately rushed out of the gun shop.
"Go get the car. Oh, and by the way, this is your fellow Bavarian, Frederick."
"Hello, Augustus von der Heidel." Heidel extended his hand.
Frederick immediately grasped the hand of the man, who had once been a nobleman.
Although it's not popular in Germany now, and even less so in the United States, Frederick is a traditional German. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."
"I'm just a driver."
Frederick looked at Sean with deep respect; he truly was a hero.
After Sean left, Hanni replaced the 16mm film camera on the sidelines of the training field with new film.
These films documented Heidel and his team's training process, and were sometimes used for post-training analysis.
Hanni looked at the film with a mischievous grin. The German Air Force would become even stronger.
Berlin.
Göring sat in the projection room, where the film reels received that day were displayed.
He watched the screen with excitement.
In the footage, Heidelt's group of paratroopers, armed with STG44 assault rifles, are rapidly weaving through the room in an odd firing posture.
Every step they took involved precise tactical steps and formations.
Their accurate shooting, coupled with their perfect teamwork, deeply impressed Göring.
"My God, are these still my paratroopers?" Goring stared at the screen, repeatedly turning back to look at his men, pointing at Heidel with a look of astonishment.
"Yes, sir, that's Heidel. I was a second lieutenant in the Hunter Company, and he was a captain."
Good heavens, Major Foreman, standing to one side, could hardly recognize his old superior.
"Lord Sean is truly a wizard. He turned those guys from Heidel into a different person, a killing machine. This is what I want: the path to the rise of the Air Force."
Goring excitedly waved his fist.
"Pass on my order: all airborne divisions, learn these advanced technologies. What are they called?"
Goering turned to look at Foreman with a curious expression.
Forman held the film and looked down at the label on it.
"Close-quarters combat techniques, CQB!"
"CQB? What is that? Whatever it is, get all my troops to start training, whether it's the rapid reaction force or the soon-to-be-formed regular air division. I demand that every paratrooper must master this shooting skill and tactic."
"The Supreme Command is formulating a plan to attack Greece. The opportunity for the Air Force to once again demonstrate its glorious victory has arrived!" Göring shouted excitedly, his fists clenched.
"yes!"
Goring straightened his shirt and stood up. "This is a tactical technique specifically created for submachine guns and assault rifles. Sean is a fucking genius."
Yes, Foreman nodded in agreement. This was a specially developed shooting stance, completely different from that of ordinary rifles, making it more flexible and effective, and allowing for a very fast attack response.
"Sir Sean is the greatest hero," Forman said without hesitation.
Sean Wein is an American hero in Germany; this is a consensus among all Germans.
In Hillam's heart, Sean was irreplaceable; he was a man who peered into destiny.
"Forman".
"arrive."
"You can retire with your special operations battalion."
"Huh?" Forman's mouth dropped open, almost startled. He had risked his life to infiltrate the Netherlands, his life hanging by a thread, and finally rose from second lieutenant to major. And now you want him to retire?
"You will now join Hanni's Shadow Commando. She has just been promoted by Himm to Regional Commando Captain, but she has too few capable subordinates. By joining the commando team, you will help Hanni complete her work across Europe."
"Am I now working for Lord Sean?"
Goring raised his chin and glanced at the newly promoted combat battalion commander. "In a way, yes."
"This is the honor of my life," Major Forman said excitedly.
"Alright, here you go." Goring handed a small note to Forman, knowing this was his chance to keep a firm grip on Sean's information; he couldn't afford to lose to the Army and Himm.
"Yes, I will definitely complete it."
Forman looked at the note and walked out of the Supreme Command headquarters.
"Set off for the Czech Republic immediately. Search every single place for me. I must find plastic explosives and get the formula. At all costs. Oh, and find me a gun designer named Heinrich Vollmo, and a fully automatic carbine."
Sean and his father finalized the construction needs and dragged their tired bodies back to the apartment.
He lay down on the sofa, picked up the newspaper next to him, and read it quietly.
These past few days, news from Europe has been focused on Italy. Albanian Commander-in-Chief Sodou has established a defensive line, and with their superior numbers, they have repelled the fierce Greek attack.
Even so, Greece has already taken over southern Albania, and Italy has once again become a laughing stock.
"Italians don't actually want to fight." Sean could understand the thoughts of ordinary Italians. They were unwilling to lose their lives for fascism. These romantic guys were actually more pragmatic. They just wanted to live a happy life.
"Germany should be launching an attack soon."
Sean took a deep breath. He knew that the most crucial part of the Italian-Greek campaign was actually the second half.
With the intervention of Britain and Germany, this unilateral invasion has become part of the decision that will determine the fate of Europe.
"Sir." The paratrooper placed an email on the table.
"Number 9, okay, sorry, I don't know your name yet."
Sean sat up from the sofa, somewhat embarrassed.
"My name is Matthias Hetzenor."
"What did you say your name was?"
"Matthias Hetzenor, what's wrong, sir?" Number Nine looked puzzled. "Do you know me?"
The German Sniper King?
The German sniper, who single-handedly held his ground and repelled eight American attacks during the Normandy landings, is credited with killing 345 people.
They have killed hundreds of high-value American targets, with the longest firing distance exceeding 1100 meters.
This is the German sniper of World War II with a kill record higher than that of the so-called Collins.
He was even the most unconventional sniper, because he believed that the role of a sniper was not to kill a number of soldiers, but to create fear, break down the enemy's command system, gather intelligence, and even complete special missions.
This aligns perfectly with the concept of a modern sniper reconnaissance battalion.
That is, a double sniper.
Collins is the headmaster of the German sniper school in the movie Enemy at the Gates. In fact, through Hannie, Sean learns that there were no dedicated sniper schools in Germany in 1940.
Germany also did not place much importance on snipers; they focused more on armored group warfare.
Goring proposed the Hunter Shooting Corps program, training snipers at the Army School, and Hanni also failed to find Collins.
Sean originally wanted to recruit this person, but Hanni only found SS sniper instructor, Flag Commander Heinz Towald, whose rank was equivalent to colonel, which matches the movie.
No wonder there are no personal kill records of the so-called German sniper school principal Collins in the World War II records, because he simply did not exist.
Sean thought it was true. The legendary battle between Collins and Vasily created the legend of the Northern snipers during World War II.
I even played Vasily in COD, but it turned out to be just a promotional gimmick.
Sean recalled Hanni's words: in order to find two snipers, she had conducted rigorous selection processes within the German army.
"Who is number ten?" Sean asked curiously, more interested in the other sniper.
"Number 10 is different from me. He hasn't been sniping for very long. I've been teaching him. He's very talented. His name is Joseph Sepp, an Austrian-German."
The Eastern Front Sniper God? Joseph Sepp Allerberg? The strongest sniper on the Eastern Front in Degu, who was awarded the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross and has 257 confirmed kills.
Both of them died of old age, which shows that they had very keen battlefield awareness and were not killed.
My God, hahahahaha!
Sean burst out laughing, realizing he'd struck gold.
We can now begin the dual-sniper training program.
Unfortunately, I don't have a venue big enough.
The National Guard base must be taken.
"Did I show you the sniper training materials?"
Matthias nodded. "I've looked at it. Wind speed, humidity—those seem difficult to control and require experience. I'm more interested in setting traps."
And what you said about sniper reconnaissance calling for support seems interesting too.”
Yes, there are no observation devices available at the moment.
However, Sean didn't care; a kill from a kilometer away was quite impressive.
"I never imagined that you could turn sniping into an art of war."
Haha, Sean suppressed a laugh. I don't know anything about sniping. I just said it based on movie scenes and plots, some of which were even from the game COD4 Modern Warfare.
The sniper textbooks were brought from Germany.
Sean picked up the mail that Matthias had put down; it contained a letter.
As Sean opened the envelope, he couldn't help but laugh.
Dear Mr. Sean, I am writing to you with great trepidation, as I do not know your home phone number.
My name is Robert Gross, chairman of Lockheed Corporation. We met at the War Department's bidding conference.
You may not remember me because we're just a small company, we're both from California, and I live in Hollywood.
Mr. Sean, could you spare some of your precious time?
I have many ideas that I need to discuss with you in person.
Lockheed Martin?
Sean held the letter and kept smiling.
Is this person asking for help?
Indeed, Lockheed Martin is virtually unknown these days.
Lockheed was no match for North American Aviation, Boeing, or even Grumman; at that moment, it was more marginalized than Raytheon and Bell.
He is a true novice in the military industry.
If it weren't for their own proposal of a systematic production line, they wouldn't have been able to get a single order.
"Hanni, please contact Mr. Robert, the chairman of Lockheed Corporation, and tell him that I will visit their company when I have time."
"Yes, sir, would you like to buy it?"
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