The impact of World War I on humanity in the 20th century was even greater than that of World War II. It was another arrogant challenge to the old order by European countries after the great empire of Napoleon, France. Although the Second German Empire failed like Napoleon, this dirty war hit the ruling foundation of the power class of the old European empire at the cost of the lives of a whole generation of young Europeans, and shook the rules and moral norms formulated to maintain the existence of the old order.

During World War I, Europeans abandoned the battlefield rules that had been following for nearly a hundred years, resulting in a large number of elites falling under the indiscriminate massacre of modern weapons. Machine guns and heavy artillery will not talk about the spirit of chivalry. Whether you are a hereditary aristocrat or a refugee beggar, you should treat them equally in front of brass armored warheads.

At that time, the imperial countries in Europe had the tradition of aristocrats leading troops. In addition to the fact that hereditary aristocrats were more trusted by the monarch than the common people, the aristocrats were also more susceptible to good military education than the common people. They were instilled with various knowledge that only the ruling class could access from childhood, so that they could become qualified leaders. Some great nobles had obtained the status of officers even at birth, and many people did not even need to enter the military academy. They would automatically obtain the rank of officers as long as they joined the army.

The senior ranks and even commander positions in the British team in the Victorian era, except for those with relatively high technical requirements, can be purchased with money. Of course, the only ones that can be afforded are the nobles and gentry classes with economic foundations. It can be said that the British team in the middle and late Victorian period was simply comparable to the Eight Banners of the Qing Dynasty. The army was controlled by a group of arrogant and arrogant nobles and gentry classes with rigid thinking. They considered how to hire more mercenaries with less money. The corruption and drinking blood and eating empty salary and getting opium was not deterred at all. The lives of lobster soldiers on the battlefield were equivalent to grass mustard, because they could not recruit ordinary civilians, and the army was filled with criminals who were forced to enlist in the army, alcoholics and even mentally ill. The British army was able to win two Opium Wars simply because their opponents were more rotten than them.

In terms of army and naval construction, Prussia almost copied the British system. By the Second Empire, the number of noble generals in the German team had far exceeded that of the British Empire. The German military aristocracy can be traced back to the Holy Roman Empire. The rise of Prussian states even cultivated the quasi-military feudal class such as the Junker aristocrats.

However, Kuhnberg was not the emerging Junker nobleman. His family name can be traced back to the Holy Roman Empire and was the oldest family in the Bavarian Kingdom. After hundreds of years of ups and downs, the Count Kuhnberg lineage has almost declined by his generation. When the old Count died, he was left with the title of aristocratic and an ancient house. The direct bloodline in the family was left with only a sister who depended on him for his life.

However, the Kuhnberg family is an old aristocrat who has been passed down for hundreds of years. Like other noble families, they have a large number of close relatives in the circle. Although they cannot count on these relatives in the revival of the family business, their complex connections are still very useful. The title of German aristocrats back then was quite intimidating. As long as Kuhnberg was willing, there would be countless wealthy landlords or wealthy merchants willing to spend a lot of money to marry his family.

However, the Earl of Kuhnberg was not here. He wanted to revive his family through his own efforts. So after graduating from university, he decided to join the army and re-embark on the path his ancestors had taken, and prove his abilities and value with courage and wisdom. Because he was a great nobleman and the connections left by his ancestors, Kuhnberg became a second lieutenant officer as soon as he joined the army. Unlike his British colleagues, the German nobles had received militarized education since childhood and had a certain understanding of the management and operation of the army, so it was easier to integrate into the identity of an officer.

Kuhnberg performed quite hard in the army. Although Germany had already begun to force compulsory education, most of the soldiers came from the countryside, and at most they had the level of elementary or junior high school. Many people were semi-illiterate, only knew some simple words and could write their own names. Therefore, ordinary noble officers who had received higher education were born to feel superior in the army. Kuhnberg's promotion speed was quite fast. At least from the perspective of Daogen, the count's military resume was completely an enviable favorite of God.

When the war broke out, Kuhnberg was just an army lieutenant, commanding an infantry company, but four years later, he was already a major battalion-level commander of the army. In four years of bloody battles, the count participated in several large-scale battles, not only unscathed on the battlefield, but also received several medals and medals. No one would doubt the earl's courage on the battlefield, and many people who knew him thought he was fully qualified to get a Blue Max.

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Kuhnberg squatted on the back slope of the earth slope, picked up his telescope and observed the enemy's movements. Then he turned around and loudly issued an order to his subordinates in the fox pit next to the earth slope: "Stay calm! Let them reach 300 meters and be sure to aim before firing."

"As for the order, sir." The non-commissioned officers began to convey the order, and the soldiers adjusted the movement scale of the rifle to a gear of 300 meters.

After a short stroll, the French soldier began to shout Ula as he charged forward with a sharp whistle.

"Fire!" Kuhnberg made a loud call.

The German army began to shoot at the French army running towards them. The muzzles of more than a dozen mg08 water-cooled machine guns were sprayed with light blue smoke. The battlefield was filled with dullness, like the clanging sound of an iron hammer hitting a steel block. The locust-like Mauser bullets swept across the French army formation. The soldiers who were shot fell to the ground without saying a word. The injured covered their wounds and wailed shrillly. The officers and non-commissioned officers waved their pistols and kicked the soldiers who were lying in the field to hide, dragging them up and continue moving forward.

The German machine guns began to fire continuously, and the French army had an absolute advantage in numbers. They were driven forward by the officers and pushed forward. The commanders seemed to be unwilling to care about the losses they suffered. The fields in front of the position were now full of bodies of French dead men wearing blue coats, but the subsequent soldiers were still straight, holding the bullet cabin in their hands, which could only accommodate three bullets, and made a meaningless roar in their mouths. In the fields soaked in the rain, they charged towards the German army with one foot deep and one foot shallow.

"We repelled five or six charges at that time. What we can't understand is that they were using the same tactic from beginning to end, which was to line up in a line to conduct a wave-like charge." Daogen placed a cup of coffee in front of Kuhnberg.

"Before the French soldiers were sent to the battlefield, they only had some simple training, and the officers had no choice. They could not let these soldiers perform more complex tactics, and they lacked experienced front-line officers." Weirle put two sugar cubes into the coffee and pushed the sugar bowl towards Kuhnberg, who was sitting at the table.

"Thank you, General." Kuhnberg nodded gracefully.

"Even so, we can't hold on for too long. The casualties are still secondary. Most of the ammunition we carried has been consumed. After the enemy's artillery entered the position, the situation on the battlefield immediately turned over." Daogen stirred the coffee in front of him with a silver spoon.

"How did you think about it at that time, Earl Kuhnberg." Weirle lowered his head and sipped his coffee.

"To be honest, I have forgotten what I thought at that time, General. We fight against the enemy and sacrifice for the country. This is the mission and responsibility of the soldiers." Kuhnberg said calmly.

"So what are you doing now? Mr. Earl. You pretend to be a British journalist. I will not ask what happened to the real Mr. Henry. I just want to know why you did this. What purpose did you deliberately want to approach the head of state." Weirle put down his coffee cup.

"I believe Colonel Daogen's evaluation. You may have been a hero on the battlefield. But as long as you are a human, it is possible to change. I have witnessed too many similar things. I once saw with my own eyes how a patriot eventually turned into a traitor." Weirle reached out and stroked the tablecloth tabletop, and a sadness appeared in his eyes. The scene of Canaris being shot again appeared in front of him.

"I think I understand what you mean, General Weirle, whether you believe it or not, I am definitely not a traitor. In fact, when I set out, I was ready to be seen through by you, but what surprised me was that I could actually rely on this poor disguise to successfully sneak into the press conference venue. At that time, I was less than twenty meters away from Von Steed, and Colonel Daogen should know that I was an excellent shooter and there was no need to fire a second shot at this distance." Kuhnberg stroked the hot-hot grip of the coffee cup with his fingers.

"You carry a weapon?" Weirle asked with a frown.

"No, but those reporters brought all the typewriters in. Would it be difficult to carry a pistol?" Kuhnberg replied with a smile.

"This is a serious loophole and it must not happen again, Daogen." Weirler turned his face and looked at Daogen.

"There will definitely not be a second time, I promise, general." Daogen replied respectfully.

"Well, Earl Kuhnberg, tell me your real intention. Since you said it was not for the disadvantage of the head of state, then there should be other purposes, not necessarily for a dinner that is not expensive," Weirle asked.

"Of course it's not for this meal. You are so mean, Your Excellency General. As I said before, I'm ready to be caught by you." Kuhnberg replied with a smile.

"You mean, you were deliberately hiding into the capital to be caught by us? God, do you know what risks you are taking? Earl, you are simply joking about your life. If Colonel Dogen had not recognized you today, you should have been hung in the underground slaughter room of the General Security Bureau and tortured by the Gestapo." Weirle widened his eyes, the answer was really beyond his expectations.

"I know very well what you said and have been prepared for a long time. But it is worth taking some risks to complete my plan." Kuhnberg replied.

"Plan? Do you have plans? That's right, of course you should have a plan." Daogen nodded and agreed.

"Well, you've confused me, Mr. Earl, what exactly do you want to do?" Weirle picked up the coffee.

"I want to be here, with your power, to complete my self-salvation, Lord General." Kuhnberg replied seriously.

"Salvation?" Weirler frowned.

"Yes, I want to save my motherland, my relatives, and myself. General, I have no second path to choose from." Kuhnberg replied loudly.

"We have no second road to choose!" Kuhnberg knelt beside Daogen's fox pit, his uniform covered in black sludge.

"This is the fate of the Third Battalion. My people and I will face the arrival of the last moment calmly. But this is not the fate of you and your subordinates. I am sorry to have you involved in this battle, Sergeant Daogen. I will lead the remaining soldiers to last the last moment, and your mission has been completed. Now someone must report the situation here in the rear. I am worried that there are still troops who have not retreated in time to send a warning to them, otherwise they may be raided by the French army." Kuhnberg said loudly to Daogen, and then he took a Bavarian Military Cross from his subordinates and stuffed it into Daogen's hands.

"Take this medal, give it to my family and tell her how I died in battle without defaming the honor of the Kuhnberg family. You are the best non-commissioned officer I have ever seen, and you shouldn't die in this place."

"I refuse, Major. You can have a soldier do it, like Haynes, the child is only seventeen."

"Haynes has been killed in battle, Daogen. Now take your subordinates and leave immediately. This is my last order." Kuhnberg's tone was stern.

"but"

"No, but, execute the order immediately, Sgt." Kuhnberg shouted loudly.

"What a damn! Major, you are such a bastard!" Daogen cursed loudly, and he stuffed the medal into the inner bag of his uniform.

"For the sake of my soon-to-seeing God, I will not pursue your crime of insulting the officers, Sgt. "Kunberg stood up and strode towards the slope.

"Everyone is ready for battle!" The major pulled out his pistol from his holster.

"Bert! Klein! Green Doug! You guys follow me." Daogen turned around and looked at the major's back, then turned over and crawled out of the foxgate, and summoned his troops to come down loudly.

ps: I don’t know what went wrong today, so I couldn’t enter the writers’ section and said that there was a password error. I was so scared that I did it for a long time before I finished modifying it.

I promised everyone a big chapter, four thousand words, and it's a chapter.
Chapter completed!