WWII military commentator? Even a dog could be one.

7. Their own people didn't believe it, but the Germans were very happy.

"Sean Wayne?"

O'Connor, dressed in a gray suit, looked quite different from himself. His hair, styled with hair wax, was slicked back and gleamed, giving him the air of an upper-class man. With his meticulously groomed beard, small mustache, and square face, this guy looked respectable.

And I felt like a homeless vagrant, with a pitiful expression like a chick waiting for its mother hen to come home.

This damn world, it's so hard for ordinary people to live, fuck it.

"He's my husband." Sean hesitated, wondering whether to extend his hand.

He wiped his hands on his pants to remove the grease.

"Hello, I've been wanting to meet you for a long time." O'Connor extended his hand.

The two held hands gently.

"Hello sir!"

O'Connor led Sean to a sofa in the lobby on the first floor and looked at the receptionist beside him. "Two cups of coffee."

Watching the young lady walk away happily.

Sean wanted to say that he didn't like that stuff.

"Sean, your article today is very bold."

Haha, that's what the landlord and Howard the Hughes said too.

However, Sean doesn't care about other people's opinions; truth is often in the hands of a minority.

Seeing the other person's faint smile, O'Connor understood that this topic was not worth arguing about, and the truth would naturally come out in a week.

However, this is an excellent topic to spark public discussion.

Nothing is more hot right now than the war between Germany and Poland.

O'Connor was an excellent editor-in-chief and a shrewd businessman; he had a knack for making money.

"Then I'll give you two dollars for this review." Yes, the price has gone up, after all, Sean's first review sparked widespread discussion.

The answer is obvious: Sean won decisively.

If he can maintain this trend, it will arouse public curiosity: can he be right every time?

Then everyone will be willing to read his articles.

This is self-enhancement, a legendary prophet.

"Three dollars. I need a secure job. If you disagree, I can submit it to the New York Times or the Washington Post." Sean is getting some attention now.

"Three dollars. Deal!" O'Connor held out his hand with a smile.

Whether Sean has investment value will be revealed in the next week.

"Deal. You'll celebrate today's decision, I promise."

Sean said confidently.

O'Connor smiled, his lips pursed. He was very curious about Sean's confidence. What makes you think you're right?

Sean had seen that smile countless times. He was right. He could even make his predictions if any ordinary person traveled to this era.

This is a cheat that requires no skill or knowledge; history cannot be changed.

"Here's your payment for today's article." O'Connor handed over five dollars.

"Too many."

"I think sales will continue to break records tomorrow. The war is affecting everyone, right? Here's my money for dinner, consider it a celebration of your accurate prediction."

"You are a successful businessman."

"Haha, my assistant says I'm an evil businessman."

Sean shook his head and smiled, "I'd like to do that too, but I don't have the capital, and I also have no experience in doing business."

I can quickly get the hang of screwing in screws.

"Thank you, I'll be going now."

Watching Sean's departing figure, O'Connor felt a surge of interest and decided to have a cup of coffee.

9 month 2 number.

Yesterday's surprise attack shocked the world, and today, the armored forces continue to achieve victories, leaving the world bewildered. Poland is at a significant disadvantage.

A Los Angeles Times article titled "Poland's last week is less than a week, the era of integrated air-ground warfare has arrived" has stirred up a huge wave of discussion.

"What? Poland will collapse in a week?"

"Impossible, absolutely impossible."

"Yes, Poland has a large army and even a huge reserve force. How could they possibly fail?"

"A week? My God, is that some kind of exaggeration?"

"Sean Wayne? I know this guy. He's the one who predicted that Germany would attack Poland."

"Oh my god, this can't be real."

"Britain and France will provide Poland with supplies and equipment, and with the Polish troops, it can hold out for a long time."

"Yes, Germany will pay a heavy price."

The prevailing opinion remained unchanged, but they remembered one name: Sean Wayne.

boom!

New York Times commentator Jeffrey angrily slammed his pen on the table.

"This guy is bragging! Britain and France can't just sit idly by. He doesn't even understand the most basic international situation. A week? Haha, this guy just wants to be famous, to publish such an article."

Jeffrey picked up his pen and began to write. He would expose the true nature of the war in Europe and show everyone that Germany was doomed to defeat. Sean was a joke.

Sean's commentary did indeed spark widespread discussion, just as O'Connor had predicted.

Even on the Atlantic coast, in a beautiful villa near the German border with Austria.

A neatly groomed man put down his newspaper, excitedly waving his fists, even placing them in front of his chest, clenching them under his armpits, and doing so with great force.

"A great commentary."

This guy, um, yes, Sean Wayne, is a discerning commentator, much smarter than those pigs. He saw the Empire's advantages and its power.

I like this guy.

The little mustache excitedly waved his right fist.

"Yes, Your Excellency, he certainly has a good eye," a soldier with skulls and lightning bolts on his shoulder insignia said obsequiously.

"If that's really the case, and Poland is defeated in a week, I will award him the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves."

what?

This is the third Medal of Merit, and you're going to award it to a critic?

This commentator is an American.

"I need a glorious and great victory, not only on land and on the battlefield, but also in public opinion. I need to appease the people at home, to fill them with confidence in the Empire, and to make them believe that the Empire is invincible."

Sean, I like this guy, his comments are exactly what I need.

I will award him a medal.

I want him to become the editor-in-chief of The Observer, the empire's largest newspaper, and to write articles specifically for me.

You're joking, right? You're definitely joking.

The soldier next to him smiled awkwardly, "But he's an American."

"Does it matter? I can give him German citizenship. What do you think of Hausel?"

"He would feel honored to serve Your Excellency; more importantly, he understands military affairs better than the average commentator, which is exactly what the Empire needs most."

In a house in northern Poland.

The major general, dressed in military uniform, looked at the telegram sent from home.

Sean Wayne has posted a new comment.

"Air superiority? God, I originally thought armored warfare was my idea, that I understood it, but this commentary actually captures the essence of Manstein's Blitzkrieg."

Mechanized large-scale operations, combined with air-ground integration, leverage the advantages of firepower and speed.

Yes, Blitzkrieg is just a term; it is not the essence of a new tactical concept.

Systematic warfare is the true future.

Sean, I really want to meet him. He might be the most war-minded person of our time.

Information technology, the steel torrent, and now we have added air-ground integration and air superiority.

Guderian kept repeating the unusual terms from Sean's article.

Inspired by this immensely, his own theory of armored warfare seemed to have become even more complete.

"General, this is just a commentary."

"You know nothing." Guderian glared at the colonel beside him. He held the telegram agitatedly. "If he were a soldier, he would probably be the last person I want to face."

What?

The colonel looked at him with disbelief. In the battles of northern Poland, the general before him was a war god.

"He's already seen through the essence of the new tactics. Do you think he doesn't understand our weaknesses?"

Weaknesses? Do we have weaknesses?

We defeated the Polish army with overwhelming force; we had no weaknesses.

Sean became famous, for better or for worse; his name had spread across the Atlantic.

"Sean, Sean? Open the door, pay the rent."