WWII military commentator? Even a dog could be one.

61. People from the Army Department came to discuss a big deal.

On May 19, 1940, the pace of war continued, and people gradually calmed down after the initial shock.

"Sean, is Sean home?"

An unfamiliar voice came from outside the open door.

"I'm Sean, who are you?"

"I am Sterling, and I belong to the Royal Air Force."

The person standing at the door was a soldier wearing a green jacket with prominent large pockets and shorts.

British military uniforms are so ugly they're almost unbearable; they look like the Boy Scout uniforms of later generations in the United States.

Sterling? A thin, white young man about his age.

Rogue Heroes is a special team composed of bad boys, and almost everyone who has played Battlefield and Call of Duty is familiar with them.

Some also call Sterling the founder of modern special forces.

He was also the founder of the world-renowned British Special Air Service (SAS).

How did he end up here?

"Hi, Sean, how have you been?" Eisenhower walked in from outside. "These are some friends from the UK. They're in Washington for some exchanges. Sterling is part of the Royal Air Force delegation and came with me today."

Sean immediately realized that the Royal Air Force had recently suffered heavy losses and was seeking support from the United States.

"How are you, Eisenhower?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Matthew Ridgway is full of praise for your rapid reaction force theory, and he's pushing for a plan to convert the 82nd Infantry Division into the 82nd Airborne Division."

Haha, Sean was holding back his laughter. Was the 82nd Airborne Division also reorganized ahead of schedule because of him?

"If you're busy right now, we can talk later."

"Is it the Bluebird Training Program?"

"Yes, we intend to sign a training contract with your Obsidian Company this time. Congratulations, Sean, you are now not only a commentator, but also a boss, the boss who has obtained a special military contract from the U.S. War Department."

Yes, he was later known as a notorious military contractor.

Eisenhower pulled out a box of small cigars and handed it to Sean.

"I was originally planning to invite you to Washington and have dinner with you, but you've become too famous lately, so this is a small gift for you."

Sean laughed. "Hanni, get some coffee ready."

"Yes, sir."

"No, no need. I want to finish my work first. Can we go to your gun shop? You know, the War Department doesn't want to send anyone over here; they want you to go to the base instead."

But your secretary flatly refused, saying that you still needed to train Los Angeles police officers.

"Sorry, she's right." Sean shrugged.

"No, we're friends, Sean. There's no need to apologize. I convinced the War Department that they'll send people over in batches. The personnel will be housed at a nearby Army base. Also, the contract scope has been expanded; I've secured a $100,000 training contract for you."

"I don't know what to say?"

"We're friends, come on, let's check out your hunting shop."

Eisenhower still had a smile on his face, and Sean maintained his goodwill towards him; their relationship was gradually becoming more stable.

"I was surprised to hear that you became a director of the Rifle Association because you are known as the founder of modern shooting techniques. Are you still the Sean I know?"

Patton even mocked you, saying you'd never even fired a gun and that the Rifle Association was just trying to exploit your fame.

Please forgive Barton, but he actually likes you a lot.

"I know, I'm not angry."

As the two men went downstairs, Sterling frowned. Why would someone who had never served in the military or even fired a gun be called the founder of modern shooting techniques?

Has the Army gone mad? He wants to train police officers? Has the Los Angeles Police Department gone mad too?

The group drove to Sean's Hunting Grounds.

Standing at the entrance, Eisenhower exclaimed, "This is the biggest gun store I've ever seen."

My God, how big is it?

"5 feet," Sean said casually, looking at his shop.

"Five thousand feet, that's over four thousand square meters."

"Yes, it's still two floors, actually about 10,000 square meters. It used to be a large warehouse. The first floor is a gun shop and a shooting range. The upper floor is under renovation. I plan to build a boxing gym, a fitness center, and an indoor simulation scene."

"It seems Colt spent a lot of money, more than fifty thousand."

Eisenhower revealed information that many people were unaware of, and his relationship with the military industry was also quite special.

The two exchanged a knowing smile.

Upon entering through the main entrance, the gun shop on the outside had been simply renovated, but the paint wasn't dry yet, so there was a strong smell, and the ceiling fan overhead was whirring away.

The wall behind the counter was covered with all sorts of weapons.

Springfield rifle, Garand, Thompson, Colt, and even the Polish 9mm pistol, the Ramdo 1935, which was a pistol developed based on the Colt and used 9mm Parabem cartridges, one more bullet than the standard .45 Colt.

However, using smaller caliber bullets would be more stable. For Sean, whether in urban warfare or in the action team, a slight difference in caliber is meaningless; the gun can still kill.

What he needed was stability, lightness, fast reaction speed, and suppression of ammunition capacity.

"Wow, you even have the newly released German MP40 submachine gun here?"

Eisenhower gave Sean a meaningful look.

"After all, I am Germany's American hero."

The future five-star generals didn't care; after all, they were just spectators now and had a good relationship with Germany.

"You actually have Browning guns and Czech machine guns? Seriously? Machine guns are for sale?"

Eisenhower looked at the machine guns displayed on the counter to his left with a surprised expression.

"They just wouldn't allow me to sell infantry guns and mortars, but they did allow me to sell rifle grenades and hand grenades."

"Haha, the Rifle Association is indeed everywhere. As long as it's related to small arms, you'll find them."

"Can we go in and take a look at the training ground?"

Sean gestured for people to enter behind the counter.

Walker, the Black store clerk and coach, opened the back aisle.

Now he sells guns during the day and lives in the shop at night.

This area is chaotic. Next door is Venice Beach. Besides Italians and Irish, there's a group of Haitians dressed like beggars; they were the earliest black gangs.

Walker once encountered an Italian who came to collect money. After he politely picked up the Browning, the Sicilian politely disappeared and sincerely wished his boss, Sean Wayne, a prosperous business.

Walking into the training grounds at the back, Eisenhower looked at the various training areas with a puzzled expression.

Why build a boxing arena to train police officers?

There are even gyms?

What a strange idea!

Sean naturally noticed Eisenhower's doubts, but he wouldn't say that he was planning to train a tactical intervention team.

A true tactical squad with modern special operations concepts, not a prototype of World War II.

What we need is a crushing, dimensional-reducing attack.

Bang bang bang bang!

Gunshots rang out from the shooting range as a dozen Los Angeles police officers in uniform were shooting under the guidance of an instructor.

The coach helped them correct their movements, and then they fired.

"Hey Tom, I told you, don't point your gun at people, point it at the ground, and remember to unload the bullets. If you do that again, I'll give you a zero on your training course."

"Sorry, Coach."

Eisenhower frowned. The coach was very professional. He had some doubts at first, so he came to check it out. Now, he realized he had been overthinking things.

He focused his gaze on the group of police officers.

The other person is holding a gun with both hands, standing facing the target.

Bang bang bang!

As he fired, he found that his accuracy was much higher than that of single-handed shooting in the army.

"How is that possible?" Those are police officers, how can their accuracy be comparable to some veterans?

"Holding a gun with both hands provides greater stability and reduces the impact of recoil."

Hearing Sean's words, Eisenhower nodded. "I noticed their shooting is a little different."

"In addition to Sean's gun-holding method, we are also teaching the isosceles triangle shooting method, where the arms are shaped like an isosceles triangle."

Listening to the coach's explanation, Eisenhower was quite satisfied. "Did you invent this too?"

"Yes, these were all invented by Mr. Sean. He was really talented, and his technology changed the world of shooting."

My goodness, that's really high praise. A group of army officers were taken aback.