As the German forces moved deeper into the city of London, the situation in the city became more and more bizarre. The Germans did not know what words to use to describe the current situation, and the commanders began to frequently ask each other on the radio about the progress of their troops.

"It's not an occupation, it's a move-in, and some citizens are standing on the side of the street to welcome us, and they're throwing confetti and petals at my soldiers." A captain of the 27th Infantry Regiment reported to his superiors. Apparently this officer, like his soldiers, never dreamed of seeing such a sight.

Virtually every German unit that entered the slums of London was treated more or less similarly, and the German soldiers were inexplicably regarded as liberators and warmly welcomed by the inhabitants of the lower classes.

London is a huge city, and even after some of the children and elderly citizens have been evacuated, the city has survived no less than six million inhabitants. Because there are many factories and government agencies here, a large number of workers and clerks are required to operate properly. In particular, the lower Thames industrial areas were toiled by millions of workers, such as the Royal Ordnance Factory, where workers worked in 24-hour shifts, producing scarce cannons, tanks and rifles for the British Army, even as the Germans were in the city.

The working class in London had become fed up with Churchill's wartime policies, which they saw as a bloody oppression, but with a grandiose patriotic name. They work more than 12 hours a day in exchange for a pile of worthless promises from the top of the company and an extra half pound of flour on supply cards, and the problem is that many workers are not alone, they have families to feed them, and they can't afford to watch their loved ones go hungry every day.

Food rations for the low-level residents have been cut to infuriating proportions, and many citizens have begun to sell their ancestral legacies to the black market to buy shoddy food that they would not even even have even looked at before, only to find that the nobles and tycoons can still spend their days in the restaurants of high-end hotels.

The citizens were unable to express their anger. Because all the machines of violence are on the side of the rich, when some deviant statements begin to spread in the shadows, no matter how ridiculous the rumors may be, they are all sought after by the angry people.

By this time, the various classes in London had been divided into several parts, and the lowest layer was precisely the largest part. At this time, London was actually like a powder keg with a lead on it, as soon as a spark ignited, it would immediately turn the world upside down.

It is impossible for the British upper echelons not to see this kind of crisis, but the general trend has already been brewed, although the politicians have intentions. But there is nothing that can be done about it. What makes London's parliamentarians, politicians, officials and plutocrats even more unexpected is that the invaders, whom they hate, end up being the saviors of all of them.

However, this happened in a few poor neighbourhoods, and the German troops who entered the south and west of London had a completely different experience.

"Where is this place, where are we on the map?" Lieutenant Shakert, sitting in the back seat of the barrel car with a map of the city of London in his hand, asked a British officer in the passenger seat. Let him once again point out the direction of the troops.

"That's Ruskin Park, and we'll go down that road to Camberwell Road and turn onto the Volvo Trail to get to the National War Museum. And then further south, the River Thames. Leading the way was a British major, who took the trouble to explain to the Storm Commando Captain. This is not only because he has to complete the task assigned to him by his superiors, but also because of the SS logo on the other party's collar badge. And rumored to have a way to the top of the German army.

"We're going to get to the banks of the Thames before the twenty-fifth Panzer Regiment, well, move on." Shaket beckoned to the troops behind him. The convoy of the 77th Storm Commando restarted and began to follow the path directed by the British officer towards the busiest part of London's South Bank.

Gradually, the houses lining the street began to change, and the former three-story apartments became five- or even six-storey solid buildings. Most of the buildings are still Victorian, but they are decorated with decorative sculptures, brightly coloured exterior coatings, and many are clad in expensive stone veneers, revealing the glory and wealth of the British Empire at its height.

This is already close to the heart of London, home to a large number of government agencies, museums, hospitals, as well as banks and large corporations. Of course, there are also many residential houses here, and the identities of the residents are different, but most of them belong to the upper class, and the economic conditions and personal cultivation are completely different from the common people.

It can be said that these were the people who had the fiercest resistance at the beginning, and who were most enthusiastic about fighting to the death with Germany. Now these noble men, huddled in fear by their windows, secretly watched through the gaps in the curtains as the invaders swaggered through the streets.

Their boiling blood has long been poured cold by successive failures, and most of them have become complete defeatists, indulging in bars and restaurant dance halls all night, trying to find all kinds of thrills, anesthetizing their nerves with alcohol and drugs, because only in this way can they forget their fears, and stop worrying about the future of their country and their own future.

"Oh my God, it's the SS, it's the SS." Someone exclaimed from behind the curtains.

Newspapers and magazines used to devote a great deal of space to this unique German unit. In order to let British readers understand the brutality and evil of this army, the uncrowned king and writers of Fleet Street used their extraordinary imagination, and most of the stories were mixed with many "detailed" descriptions, which were the kind of things that decent families would never let children read, but at the time they were very much in line with the appetite of ordinary British readers, and were unanimously praised.

The SS was a machine without an individual mind, a loyal dog of the German dictator, all made up of thugs and hooligans. Formed by psychopaths, they do not hesitate to kill innocent civilians in order to achieve their goals, even babies and pregnant women...... This image of brutality has been ingrained in the minds of the British. So, when people see the white double lightning signs painted on the doors, you can imagine how panicked they will be.

Some of them hurriedly shrank back from the window and closed the curtains with force, as if this would cut off them from the terrible army outside. But there were also those who reacted differently, they opened the window and hung out pieces of white sheets, and these people got the so-called "inside information" that as long as the white sheets were hung out to show obedience, the Germans would not come to bother you.

"It's a British custom?" Shakter tilted his head to look at the white pieces of cloth fluttering on the windowsills of the buildings on either side.

"You know, the French look for a white flag when they surrender, but I've seen one in white pajamas, and that's near Orleans...... What's that called?"

"Neono." The driver reminded with a smile.

"Yes, Neono, a beautiful little village, where the French defenders searched the whole village without finding a single white cloth, and finally found a white pajama from a widow's house, and the whole regiment was dumbfounded when they saw the French throwing it."

"Yes, I still remember General Manstein's expression at that time." The driver chimed in.

"This is a high-class community, and since the morning, we have informed the citizens to stay in their respective rooms, and I think they have long been prepared for today." The British officer changed the subject, although he had been prepared, but he still didn't feel good when he saw the scene in front of him.

At this point, the convoy approached a sturdy-looking sandbag barricade, and the four-wheeled armored reconnaissance vehicle that opened the way slowed down and began to approach the fortification. Although the British assured that they would not encounter resistance from the defenders along the way, the Germans did not dare to be careless, who knows if any British soldier would want to fight to the death, secretly lying in ambush in the fortifications and waiting to play with the Germans and their own lives.

"No problem." The commander of the reconnaissance vehicle leaned out of the machine-gun tower and waved to the rear team, and the 222 armored vehicle bypassed the barricades and began to move on.

As Shakter's barrel cart drove past the barricade, the Waffen-SS lieutenant stood up and peered into the barricade, where the semicircular bunker was now empty, and the ammunition allocated to the fortification was neatly stacked against the wall.

"The troops in charge of this barricade are now on standby in the barracks, waiting for your men to come and surrender." The British officer explained.

"Lieutenant, it's Colonel Nicholas from the Operations Division, and he has asked to speak to you." The communications soldier sitting next to Shakter reported loudly, and he handed the headset in his hand to Shakter.

"I'm Shakter." The SS lieutenant hurriedly took the headset and put it on his head.

"We're making a lot of progress right now, near the Volvo Way...... Understood, I know, Colonel...... But...... There was such a thing, I knew it was not that simple, well, I would stop and wait for the twenty-fifth Panzer Regiment, obey, Colonel. No problem, Colonel...... Be! All for the Führer! …… Okay, that's it, hey! Reinhart! Shakett took off his headset and handed it to the communications officer.

"Tell the cars in front of you to stop, and all of them stop." Schalke said to the communications man, who then stood up and waved his arms at the vehicle behind him, signaling for a stop.

"What the hell is going on, Captain." The convoy stopped in the middle of the road, and the leaders of the squads came up to ask what was going on.

"Something is wrong with the British, their marshals and generals have failed to convince the royal guards loyal to the crown, and now these forces have mutinied, they have taken control of Westminster and occupied the lines on both sides of the Thames, and they are ready to fight us to the death. The higher authorities ordered us to temporarily halt our advance and wait for a rendezvous with the XXV Panzer Regiment. Shakter stepped out of the car, whipping his trouser leg with his gloves, and he was excited by the new situation.

"Royal Guard?" The SS lieutenant looked disdainful.

"It's no big deal, we didn't make it to the Battle of Dunkirk, and this time we want to let everyone know that the Waffen-SS is the strongest guard."

Ask for a monthly pass, ask for a recommendation ticket, thank you for your support. (To be continued.) )