Late at night, the sea with rippling moonlight was silent. On the northernmost cliff of Soud Island, a lonely soldier paced back and forth with a rifle on his back, sometimes looking into the distance and sometimes looking down near. He wore a non-standard wool hat and wrapped his neck and face tightly with a thick scarf, revealing only a pair of eyes outside. Judging from his bloated figure, the military coat should have been wearing a layered shirt and sweater.

In this cold weather with icy air, the British soldiers on duty obviously did not notice that in the nearshore waters several thousand meters away, a submarine with a low profile, like a floating whale, was quietly bypassing the northwest corner of Soud Island. The shoreline there was like a cake dug with a fork, the steep cliffs were wrinkled, and the reefs were thronged under the cliffs, which was the least likely location to be chosen by the enemy as the landing site. The cunning submarine did not dock, it drove about two kilometers southward close to the coastline, and then closed the engine.

The aircraft let the submarine float quietly on the sea. The crew on the boat unbuttoned the objects tied to the deck and unfolded two unpowered inflatable kayaks. More than a dozen men in the uniform of the Royal Marine Corps boarded the kayak with weapons and ropes, and paddled to the coast a hundred meters away with wooden oars. Afterwards, the submarine quietly left the sea area in the darkness of the night, and these mysterious guys quickly landed on the dock, venting the kayaks into the gaps in the cliffs, and then climbed the Shanghai cliffs with ropes.

It is only two or three kilometers away from the landing point to Sandwich Port. The most direct path is an open depression between two ridges. The natural gullies in the depression provide excellent cover for the whereabouts of these people. Their actions are so silent. The British guard posts set up at high places did not find any abnormalities. Halfway to Sandwich, they accidentally discovered a well-disguised British artillery position. Several large-caliber artillery can be seen vaguely, probably a ship gun dismantled from the stranded and sunken "Africa" ​​or other British warships. Since the British army deployed multiple posts around the artillery position, these people did not dare to approach them rashly, but continued to rush to Sandwich.

After more than half an hour of trekking, a group of dozens of people successfully approached Sandevich's British position, crawled through the last distance in front of the position, quickly slapped the dust off his body, and walked in the trench in a pretended manner. Three two people in a group, and they were dispersed quietly.

One of the groups of people just walked out more than ten meters and met a tall young man who was walking alone in a secluded place.

Without waiting for the other party to speak, the "infiltrator" wearing British sergeant uniforms stepped forward and asked a hundred years ago: "Who is the man? The command!"

The tall young man was neither armed nor carried a gun. He hurriedly put away his guy and replied in a Scottish accent: "I am Private Fody Brooke, the third company of Forth Battalion, and the command is God bless Britain."

(Battle of Forth? It should be a Scottish force, it sounds like there are at least two battalions here)

While thinking, the "non-commissioned officer" put away his questioning tone and said in a eased tone: "Has your superior not told you that it is very unhygienic to solve urination and defecation everywhere in the trenches?"

The tall young man smiled and said, "Sorry, the weather outside is too cold... Sir, I promise there will be no next time."

"The NCO" snorted, looked around, took out a cigarette box from his pocket, shook out a cigarette, and paused on the cigarette box: "Do you have a match?"

The tall young man took out a box of matches from his pocket, covered his hands and lit them.

"The non-commissioned officer" took a sip of cigarettes and deliberately showed a comfortable expression: "The weather here is really bad, but no matter how cold it is, it is better than staying in the trenches on the French front. Whenever it encounters rainy weather, mud and water will accumulate under the trenches. It is simply an unrealistic luxury to keep them dry."

When he saw the "Non-commissioned officer" chatting, the soldier with Enfield short rifle behind him also looked calm, and the tall young man seemed completely unsuspecting. He said: "I came from Livingston, a town very close to Edinburgh, where winters are not so cold. I heard that the commander's accent seemed to be Welsh?"

"Yes, Welsh Sildikin." The non-commissioned officer replied quickly.

The tall young man stretched his eyebrows and grinned happily: "Ah, Sildikin, I've been there, it's a beautiful seaside town. There's a white church, right? What's its name?"

A hint of embarrassment appeared on the face of the "Non-commissioned Officer". He held the cigarette in his right hand and quietly turned behind his left hand, holding the hilt of the knife, ready to pull out the sharp dagger at any time, and the soldiers following him seemed to naturally take a step forward.

The sickle of the god of death shone coldly, but the tall young man did not notice the murderous intent around him. At this moment, a sound came from not far away.

"Fudi, Fudi? Why did you urinate for so long? Have you been caught by the Germans?"

The tall young man turned around and replied, "Hey, I'm here, chatting with a non-commissioned officer from Sildikin! Come here!"

The expressions of the two people around them immediately became very unnatural. They exchanged their eyes and decided to use calmness to control the situation first.

The handsome and moderately shaped private came out of the darkness. Before he could even walk to his companion, he smelled the smell of tobacco in the air.

"Well... this should be authentic British cigarettes, Imperial Tobacco's three-five cigarettes?"

"It's worthy of being a hunting dog's nose." The tall young man turned around and handed the half-smoked cigarette to his companion. The latter took the cigarette without hesitation, took a sip, and praised: "It's indeed three or five cigarettes, with a scent of paper rolls. It's rare on the market in the past two months. It is said that at the end of September, a cargo ship carrying dozens of tons of high-quality tobacco was sunk by a German submarine. It's annoying to think about it. These fanatical Germans are like crazy beasts."

The two British soldiers focused on the smoke and did not notice the cunning flashes in the eyes of the "non-commissioned officers".

"Not just cigarettes, Britain is now in short supply of everything. In order to maintain this difficult war, we had to concentrate limited resources on military production, but even so, the number of bullets and shells is still pitifully small. " said the non-commissioned officer.

"That's right! I heard that more than half of the British Royal Marines' inventory ammunition is concentrated on Soud Island. How much can this be? I think it's only two or three thousand tons at most, enough for a few weeks? I also expect us to fight a beautiful Rouen-style battle here. It's really overestimated the situation." The tall young man muttered dissatisfied. This should be a topic for soldiers to discuss in private. The experienced soldiers knew what to say in front of the officers and what not to say in front of the officers.

The First Class quickly interrupted: "Stop talking nonsense, Fodi, some things are not something we can consider. Just do our own things."

"You are right, ammunition is a question that the quarantine officials consider. We just need to fight. The non-commissioned officers" responded vaguely, "as long as our ammunition depot is not shot by the German ship."

The tall young man was straightforward: "That should be unlikely! When the battle started, the German ship must have fired at ports, beaches or artillery positions at high places. Even if the shells occasionally landed in open areas, it was unlikely that the ammunition stored in the gully was blown. The poor guys from the squad, who had to transport the ammunition out continuously when the battle started."

(Hidden in the gully? A good idea. You can't see it from the air when you are covered with yellow cloth on weekdays, but it's easy to find it by following the mailboxes carrying ammunition during battles.)

The Private First Class interrupted again: "Did the sir come from Sildignkin? It was a pretty good place. My mother is also Welsh, Denbyshire, Wales."

"Oh, these two places are not far apart. The NCO responded calmly, and then cleverly changed the topic: "Denbishi? Among the German soldiers we captured on the island, one of them said that his grandmother was from Denbishi, who had been in England for three years as a child."

"Oh?" The First Class Private suddenly widened his eyes, feeling a little embarrassed and didn't know what to say.

The tall young man asked curiously: "Are those guys still being held in Fuamin now? Or have they been escorted to the UK?"

(It seems that these brothers are still alive, Fuam is in the middle of Soud Island, I hope our fleet will not shell there, if they have been sent to England, they can only stay in the British prisoner-of-war camp until the end of the war)

"Do you think we still have time to deal with them now? The non-commissioned officer" replied ambiguously. During this cigarette, he had already brought some useful information from the two British soldiers in front of him, and he might reveal his strength when he continued to chat. So he bid farewell to them on the grounds of patrol, and quietly observed the British army's trench system along the way, silently remembering various details.

At about the same time, two German submarines carrying commandos quietly approached Xiaodimen Island, west of Soud Island. It is 12 kilometers away from Sandwich Port and is an island with an area of ​​only 1 square kilometer. It is shaped like a non-standard dumpling. The terrain rises rapidly from around to the middle of the island. The altitude of the high point reaches more than 400 meters. There are only a few scattered shores on the island. Behind the shores are steep sea cliffs, which are neither suitable for ship docking nor for people to live for a long time.

At first, when the German army occupied the Faroe Islands in full, due to the shortage of troops, they only sent combat troops or alert observation teams to the slightly larger islands. When the British Navy occupied Sand Island and Soud Island, they sent troops to land on five small islands around the two large islands. At night, German submarines passing through nearby waters observed that British troops between the islands communicated with each other with light signals.
Chapter completed!