CHAPTER 414: ORIGINAL TEXT: CHAPTER 414 LIBERATION OF BRUSSELS MODIFIED:

Major General Khalil was about to order the troops to be sent for reinforcement when a deafening explosion interrupted him.

The ground shook violently like an earthquake, shattered glass "crashed" to the ground, and several fragments flew out, cutting a bloody mark on Major General Khalil’s face.

Aifuri’s hand, which was holding the windowsill, was also cut by the glass. It was bloody, but they didn’t care about these wounds; they were insignificant.

"It’s the ammunition depot," Aifuri looked at Major General Khalil in horror. "It might have been blown up!"

The word "might" should be removed, thought Major General Khalil, it was obvious.

Everyone in the command room was in shock. They all stopped what they were doing and looked in the direction of the explosion, where a huge plume of smoke was rising, and faint cries and wails could be heard.

At this moment, the communications officer hurriedly came in to report, "General, the partisans attacked the ammunition depot."

The veins on Major General Khalil’s forehead throbbed. Ignoring the communications officer, he bit his lip and asked Aifuri, "How much ammunition do we have left?"

"Only training ammunition, General," Aifuri replied. "Each person has about thirty bullets, and there might be just over three thousand grenades."

That was the count before the training. It was now almost noon, and half a day’s training might have consumed half of it.

"What about other ammunition reserves?" Major General Khalil asked again.

Aifuri shook his head.

Brussels was the rear guard, at least it used to be. No one would store ammunition here. This sole ammunition depot was for training purposes.

Major General Khalil did not hesitate and turned to scold the bewildered staff officers in the room, "What are you standing there for? Contact any unit, anyone, anywhere, as long as there’s ammunition!"

"Yes, sir." The staff officers immediately began to take action. Some contacted their superiors to report the situation; others got in touch with nearby troops or contacted the train.

If they were fast, it seemed possible to transport the ammunition by train within three hours.

But Aifuri shook his head slightly, "It won’t work, General. The French Army controls the skies. Since Shire went to great lengths to blow up the ammunition depot, he won’t leave such a big gap for us to refill our supplies."

Major General Khalil stood there as if struck by lightning, staring blankly at Aifuri, unable to speak.

...

Aifuri only guessed it half right. Shire was indeed striking Brussels’ transport line with bombers at that moment, especially the railways.

But at this time, bombers were in short supply. They had to suppress the German Army’s howitzers, support the partisans, bomb important German targets, and breaking the transport lines to blockade Brussels was beyond their capacity.

On the other hand, Shire considered that using bombers to strike transport lines was ineffective, especially on the highways. A batch of bombs would only create a small pit on the surface. Filling it with dirt would allow normal passage again.

Therefore, this task was more left to the partisans.

They launched attacks everywhere, creating multiple "landslides" on the railways and highways leading to Brussels.

Some preparations began even a month ago. They hollowed out the road foundations and used logs for support. When it was time to cut off transportation, they only needed to saw through the logs.

As a result, the once well-connected Brussels was left with only two routes: the highways and railroads from Mons to Brussels and from Brussels to Antwerp, reserved for Shire’s troops.

But even these two routes had the highgrounds on both sides occupied by the partisans, and the roads were laden with explosives. Any German ammunition vehicles passing by would still be blown up.

...

After contacting all possible channels, Major General Khalil finally understood his situation. Brussels was almost surrounded.

Don’t even think about ammunition; even food would be hard to get in. As for reinforcements, they were either far away in Germany or on the front lines, a hundred kilometers away, possibly already in disarray.

The telegraph brought the order from Group Army Commander Vice Admiral Dim: "No matter the difficulties, hold Brussels at all costs. Do not retreat a single step!"

Major General Khalil glanced at the telegram, then crumpled it into a ball and threw it on the ground.

"Reply," Khalil ordered in a calm, resolute tone: "Tell the Vice Admiral, we cannot complete the mission. Staying here achieves nothing but surrender. Hence, I refuse to carry out the order!"

As he spoke, Khalil turned to Aifuri with a questioning look.

Aifuri nodded slightly in agreement.

With a unit out of ammunition in the capital of Belgium, surrounded by partisans eager to kill the German Army, and Shire’s troops arriving in a few hours...

What’s there to hold with?

If they stayed, they would either be killed by the enemy or become prisoners. There was no third possibility.

...

Brussels was not captured by Shire; it was liberated before Shire’s troops arrived.

Initially, people had little reaction. Even when they saw the Germans retreating like beaten dogs, they thought it was a normal German redeployment.

The partisans who knew the situation carried their guns and walked onto the streets shouting, "Come out, gentlemen, we are free! The days of German occupation are over!"

People could not believe it was real. They asked skeptically:

"Did we really win?"

"But why don’t we see our army?"

...

It was indeed hard to believe that the small number of partisans and their few broken guns had driven the Germans out of Belgium.

The partisans proudly responded:

"It’s Shire. Shire’s troops are advancing towards Brussels!"

"The Germans knew they couldn’t defeat Shire’s forces. They had no choice but to flee."

"They won’t come back, as long as we help Shire achieve victory!"

...

People gradually began to believe. They cheered as if celebrating a festival. The entire city was boiling. People rushed onto the streets to celebrate with each other, and some organized themselves to welcome Shire’s troops.

Over an hour later, Shire’s troops finally arrived in Brussels.

The French Army received a hero’s welcome. The Belgians generously offered the troops flowers and food. Some Belgian women, excitedly, even gave the French soldiers hugs and kisses.

Shire and Tijani made some preparations before entering the city. They changed into the uniforms of lower ranks, a major and a lieutenant, and hid their radios and other items that could reveal their identities.

This was to guard against any German troops left in the city attempting an assassination.

Shire wasn’t willing to die just to receive cheers and gratitude. To him, these were optional, but his life was his own, and there was only one.

But Shire was eventually recognized.

A girl holding a bouquet chased the armored car madly, and finally climbed on it without hesitation.

After stabilizing herself, she gasped and handed the flowers to Shire, "Thank you, sir, very much...."

Her voice stopped, and her smile froze on her face. Then her beautiful blue eyes suddenly sparkled with excitement, and she exclaimed, "Shire, my God, you are Shire!"