Chapter 9 chapter eight

General Sir Bernard Montgomery, commander-in-chief of 21st Army Group, which was about to attack France, had set up temporary headquarters at a school in west London.The students have been evacuated to the countryside and placed in safer places.Coincidentally, this is also Monty, that is, Bernard Montgomery (Bernard Montgomery), an outstanding British military strategist, British field marshal, strategist, and one of the outstanding Allied commanders in World War II.The famous Battle of Alamein and the Normandy landing are two masterpieces of his military career.The school I attended as a child.The meeting was held in the model room, and everyone sat on the hardwood chairs of schoolchildren. These people were generals and statesmen, and the king himself would attend important occasions.

The Brits think it's cute, Paul Chancellor from Boston, Massachusetts, thinks it's bullshit.How much will it cost to get some new chairs?He liked the British in general, but hated their quaint self-showing. Paul worked under Monty, and many people think that this is because his father was a general, but this speculation is not fair.Paul got on well with high-ranking officers, partly because of his father, and partly because the U.S. Army had become his biggest client before the war, and he ran educational records, mostly language courses.He enjoys military virtues of obedience, punctuality, and precision, but at the same time he has to think out of himself, and Monty becomes more and more dependent on him.

He is in charge of intelligence work.He's an organizer, making sure that when Monty needs to see a report, it's on his desk, weeding out messages that arrive late, convening meetings of key executives, and acting on behalf of his superiors. Conduct supplementary investigations. He also has experience working undercover.He had dealings with the U.S. secret service, the Office of Strategic Services, and worked under cover in France and French-speaking North Africa. He had lived in Paris as a child, when his father was a military attache at the U.S. embassy.Paul had been wounded in a shootout with the Gestapo in Marseille six months earlier, when a bullet knocked out more than half of his left ear but caused no damage other than his appearance.Another bullet shattered the kneecap of his right leg, never to get it back again, which was the real reason he switched to desk work.

Compared with running back and forth in enemy-occupied territory, this kind of work was easy and never bored him.They are planning an "Operation Overlord" aimed at ending the war.Paul is one of several hundred people in the world who know the exact date, while most others can only guess.In fact, three alternative days have been determined according to tides, currents, moon phases, and sunrise and sunset times.The attack required the moon to rise a little later, so that the initial movement of the troops could be covered by darkness, but then again later, when the first paratroopers parachuted from the plane and glide.Low tide was needed at dawn to reveal the obstacles Rommel had placed on the beach.A low tide is also required before dusk for subsequent landings of large forces.The time frame to meet these conditions is short, and the fleet can depart on the following Monday, June 5, or on Tuesday or Wednesday the following week.The final decision will be made at the last minute by General Eisenhower, Supreme Commander-in-Chief of the Allied Forces, according to weather conditions.

Three years ago, Paul would have been fighting for a spot on the offensive team, he would have been scrambling to get to the front rather than the back.Now, as he grew older and wiser, his mind changed.For one thing, he had paid his bills, captained the first-team soccer team in high school, won the Massachusetts State Championships, and now he can no longer kick with his right leg.More importantly, he knew that his organizational skills would allow him to win wars with ease, without having to fight himself. He's thrilled to be the mastermind of one of the greatest offenses of all time.Of course, along with the excitement comes the anxiety that campaigns never go as planned (although Monty has a weakness for pretending that the campaigns he plans always work out as planned).Paul knew that the kinds of mistakes he made—a clerical error, ignoring a detail, taking intelligence without double checking—could cost Allied forces dearly.Despite the size of the counteroffensive force, the battle could still change direction, and a small mistake could tip the balance.

At ten o'clock this morning, Paul had scheduled fifteen minutes to discuss the French Resistance.It was Monty's idea.His hallmark is attention to detail.He believes that to win a battle, it is necessary to avoid frontal combat as much as possible until all preparations are in place. At five minutes to ten, Simon Fortescue entered the model room.He is one of the senior officers of MI6.He was tall, wore a pinstriped suit, and had a measured, authoritative demeanor, but Paul suspected he didn't really understand what a secret job was.He was followed by John Graves, a tense-looking civil servant from the Department of Economic Warfare, the government department that oversees Special Operations.Graves wore White Hall (White Hall), a street in London, England.Connects the Houses of Parliament and Downing Street.In this street and its vicinity, some British government agencies such as the Ministry of Defense, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of the Interior, and the Ministry of the Navy are located here.Therefore, people use Whitehall as the name of the British executive branch.uniform, black jacket and gray striped trousers.Paul frowned. He didn't invite Graves. "Mr. Graves!" he said curtly, "I didn't know you were invited to this meeting."

"I'll explain to you later." He sat down on the elementary school student's bench and opened his briefcase, looking a little flustered. Paul was very annoyed.Monty hated extravagance, but Paul couldn't get Graves out of the room. A moment later, in came Monty, a small man with a pointed nose and a high hairline on his forehead.The beards on both sides of the cheeks were cut short, drawing clear lines on the face.He was fifty-six, but looked older.Paul liked him, and Monty was so careful that some people got impatient with him and called him "the old lady," but Paul believed that Monty's careful, petty nature had saved many soldiers' lives.

Monty brings in an American whom Paul doesn't know, and Monty introduces him as General Pickford. "Where's that guy from Special Operations?" Monty asked suddenly, turning to look at Paul. Graves said: "He was called in by the Prime Minister to convey his deep apologies for this. I wish there was something I could have done..." "I don't think so," said Monty flatly. Paul secretly groaned.This is a total smash, and he will be scolded for it.But there's something else going on here.The Englishman was playing a game that kept him out of the loop.He watched them carefully, looking for clues among them.

Simon Fortescue said tactfully, "I can probably fill that void." Monty looked unhappy. He promised to brief General Pickford, but the key figures were not there.He didn't waste time pursuing the matter, though. "The battle is coming," he said straight to the point, "and the first moment is the most dangerous moment." Paul thought it was unusual for him to mention the word "dangerous moment" this time.It was his habit to make everything simple and easy. "We're going to dig the cliff with our fingertips and hang on it all day." Maybe two days, Paul said to himself, maybe a week, or even longer. "This will be the enemy's best chance, if only to stamp our fingers with his long boots."

Really easy, Paul thought. "Operation Overlord" is the largest military operation in human history, with thousands of ships, hundreds of thousands of troops, millions of dollars, and tens of millions of bullets. Its outcome determines the future of the world.However, this colossal force can be easily repulsed if mistakes are made in the first hours. "We must do our best to delay the enemy's reaction. We must do everything we can. This is extremely important." Monty finished his last few words and turned his gaze to Graves. "Well, the F section of the Special Operations Service has more than a hundred agents in France—in fact, almost all of us are there," Graves said. "Of course, there are thousands of agents under them French Resistance fighters. We have dropped hundreds of tons of guns, bullets and explosives on them in recent weeks.”

It was a bureaucratic answer, Paul thought, saying everything and saying nothing.Graves wanted to say more, but Monty cut in, asking the crucial question: "How effective are they really going to be?" The civil servant hesitated, and then Fortescue jumped out. "I'm not expecting anything," he said. "Objectively, there will be nothing special about SOE." There was something in his words, and Paul could hear it.Veteran MI6 spies cuddled up to their veterans and hated newcomers from Special Operations.Resistance raids on German installations prompted the Gestapo to investigate and sometimes arrest MI6.But Paul is on the side of the Special Operations Division, and striking the enemy is the purpose of the entire war. What kind of game is being played here?Is it business-to-business bickering between MI6 and SOS? "Is there any specific reason why you're so pessimistic?" Monty asked Fortescue. "Last night's debacle speaks for itself," Fortescue replied promptly. "A resistance group under the command of the Special Operations Division attacked a telephone exchange near Reims." General Pickford spoke for the first time: "I remember that our strategy was not to attack telephone exchanges—we'll need them if we succeed." "You're quite right," said Monty, "with the exception of Saint-Cécile. It is the entry point for the new cables into Germany. Most of the telephone and telex calls between the High Command in Berlin and the German troops in France are Go through that building. Knocking it out won't do us any harm—we don't call Germany—but it will cause major confusion in enemy communications." "They'll switch to wireless," Pickford said. "Exactly," Monty said, "but then we'll be able to decipher their signal." Fortescue interjected: "Thanks to our Bletchley codebreakers." Paul knows something little known: British intelligence has cracked a code used by the Germans, allowing them to read most of the enemy's radio communications.MI6 is quite proud of this, but to be honest, this credit should not be attributed to them.The deciphering work was not done by intelligence personnel, but by a group of patchwork mathematicians and crossword puzzle lovers. If they entered MI6 on a normal day, they would definitely be caught in, because the agency Hate intellectuals, communists and homosexuals.But Alan Turing, the leader in deciphering codes and a mathematical genius Alan Turing (Alan Turing), a famous British mathematician, logician, and cryptographer, is known as the father of computer science and the father of artificial intelligence.After the outbreak of World War II, he assisted the military in cracking the famous German password system "the Enigma Machine" and helped the Allied forces win the World War II.In general, he is all of the above three types of people. However, Pickford was right that if the Germans had no access to telephone lines and had to use radios, then the Allies knew what they were talking about.The destruction of the Saint-Cécile telephone exchange gave the Allies a crucial advantage. But the task has failed. "Who's in charge?" Monty asked. "I haven't seen the full report—" Graves said. "I can tell you," Fortescue put in, "Major Claret." He paused. "A girl." Paul had heard of Felicity Clarets.She was something of a legend in the small circle that knew about the Allied Secret War.She has spent more time in France under cover than anyone else.Code-named Leopard, she was said to roam the streets of occupied France, moving as silently as a dangerous feline.They also said that she was beautiful but had a heart of stone and that she had killed more than once. "What the hell is going on?" Monty said. "Poor planning, inexperienced commanders, undisciplined soldiers, everyone fighting on their own," Fortescue replied, "The building was not heavily guarded, but the Germans were a well-trained force, and all at once That wiped out the resistance." Monty looked sullen.Pickford said: "It seems that we should not rely too much on the French resistance to disrupt Rommel's supply lines." Fortescue nodded. "Bombing is ultimately the more reliable means." "I don't know if it's fair or not," Graves protested, weakly. "Bomber Command has its successes and failures, and Special Operations is actually a good deal for the money." "For God's sake, we're not here to be fair or unfair to anyone," Monty said angrily. "We just want to win the war." He stood up. "I think we've heard enough," he said to General Pickford. Graves said, "But what about the switchboard thing? Special Operations has a new plan—" "My God," Fortescue interrupted, "we don't want another mess, do we?" "Blow it up," Monty said. "We tried that," Graves said, "and they hit the building, but the damage didn't stop the phone exchange for too long, just a few hours." "Then blow it up again," Monty said, turning and walking out.Graves glared at the MI6 man angrily. "Look, Fortescue," he said, "I'd say . . . really." Fortescue ignored him. They all left the room.There were two people standing in the corridor outside, a man in his fifties wearing a tweed jacket, and a short blonde woman in an old blue cardigan over a faded cotton skirt.The two stood in front of the sports meeting prize booth. It looked like the school principal was chatting with a female student, except that the female student was wearing a bright yellow scarf, and in Paul's view, the way the scarf was tied undoubtedly had a certain meaning. Kind of French.Fortescue hurried past them, but Graves stopped. "They said no," he said. "They're going to bomb there again." Paul speculated that the woman was the "female leopard" and looked at her with interest.She was short and slender, with curly blond hair cut short, and Paul noticed lovely green eyes.He couldn't tell how pretty she was because her face was too old.If you look closely, the impression of a female student disappears at once, and the straight nose and sharp chin reveal a combative look.But there was something sensual about her that made Paul wonder about that tiny body wrapped in tattered dresses. Graves' words made her indignant. "Bombing it from the air is useless, its basement is reinforced. God, how could they make such a decision?" "I think you'd better ask this gentleman," said Graves, turning to Paul. "This is Major Chancellor, and these two are Major Claret and Colonel Sweet." Paul didn't like to justify decisions made by others, but he had no choice but to be honest. "I don't think there's much to explain," he said curtly. "If you mess up once, you won't be given a second chance." The woman gave him a sharp look up—she was a head shorter than he was—and said angrily, "Screw it? What the hell do you mean?" Paul felt himself blushing. "General Montgomery may have heard the wrong information, but isn't this the first time you've directed a similar operation, Major?" "That's what they tell you? Is it true that I'm inexperienced?" She was indeed pretty, he could see now.Anger made her eyes widen and her cheeks flush.But she was too rude, so he decided to do the same, tact for tact: "Besides that there was poor planning—" "There's nothing wrong with that damn plan!" "—but in the end well-trained troops fought off the mob and kept the territory." "You arrogant pig!" Paul instinctively took a step back.No woman had ever spoken to him like this before.She might only be five feet tall, he thought, but he bet she could scare the damn Nazis.Looking at her angry face, he realized that she was even more angry with herself. "You think you're at fault," he said, "because no one gets so mad over someone else's mistake." This time it was her turn to be surprised. Her mouth was half-opened, but nothing came out. Colonel Sweet spoke only now. "Calm down, Flick, for God's sake," he continued, turning to Paul, "let me take a guess—that was given to you by Simon Fortescue from MI6, wasn't it? " "Indeed." "Did he mention that the attack plan was based on intelligence from his agency?" "I don't recall him ever mentioning that." "I don't think he'll mention it," said Sweet. "Thank you, Major, and I won't bother you any more." Paul felt the conversation was not really over, but since a senior officer had sent him away, he had no choice but to turn around and leave. He was apparently caught in the middle of an open battle between MI6 and Special Operations.It was Fortescue who pissed him off the most, using the meeting to build momentum for himself.Was Monty the right decision to bomb the telephone exchange rather than allow SOE to launch another attack?Paul couldn't tell. He walked to his office and glanced back.Major Claret was still arguing with Colonel Sweet, her voice low but her expression violent, with exaggerated gestures of anger.She stood like a man, with her hands on her waist, leaning forward, poking her index finger back and forth to make a point, looking aggressive.But even this cannot hide a certain charming quality about her.Paul wondered what it would be like to hold her in his arms and run his hands over that small body.He thought that although she was rough, she was still a woman. But is she right?Was the bombing really futile?He decided to ask a few more questions.