novelraw Chapter 578 Unwritten Rules
Chapter 578 Unwritten Rules
Belgium, Rangbulu Town.
The church bells tolled "dang dang", faintly accompanied by some hymn singing, heralding the annual Christmas Eve.
However, this clear and pleasant sound brought no joy to the people, as the dark clouds of war still hung over the world.
Darkness enveloped the land, silent in the snowstorm, and then mercilessly tore apart the night’s tranquility.
Nobody knew who made the first move, at first, there were only one or two shells whistling, then more and more.
Soon, the entire Western Front was filled with the sound of whistling and explosions, with sporadic flashes of light from the shells being fired and exploding, resembling flashes of lightning.
Major General Kristen was patiently waiting in the trenches, feeling the tremors of the shells, from far to near, then gradually moving away into the depths.
This was the typical pattern of a nighttime artillery battle.
In the dark, the artillerymen on both sides were unlikely to target each other’s trenches, as they couldn’t see and could only fire blindly.
They preferred to bombard the enemy’s artillery, whose muzzle flash and smoke would reveal their positions when firing; whoever gained the upper hand first could continue to press and ultimately gain the advantage.
After waiting for a while longer, when the artillery duel between the two sides was inconclusive, Major General Kristen shouted, "Attack!"
Sharp whistles immediately sounded, one after another, echoing down along the trench.
The "Shire A1" tanks surged up the slope into No Man’s Land first, advancing towards the enemy lines at a low speed of about 3 kilometers per hour. Some of the tanks’ hatches were open, with commanders sticking their heads out to observe the terrain and guide the drivers.
Without night combat capability, the tanks only hoped to block a few waves of bullets for the attacking infantry and then safely retreat.
Squad after squad of soldiers climbed out of the trenches using short ladders, advancing towards the enemy trenches behind the tanks.
...
Brigadier General Godrova was at the forefront, following right behind the tanks.
This was not because he was brave, but because he analyzed beforehand that the rear might be more dangerous, as staying farther from the tanks would increase the likelihood of getting hit by bullets or shells.
He concluded that staying behind the tanks would be the safest, where the bullets and shells couldn’t reach.
If lucky, he just needed to follow the tanks around the battlefield to return safely and earn a good reputation for "leading by example".
As expected, the heavy machine guns on the other side fired in swathes, mortars exploded around him, but no bullets or shells threatened him.
The bullets hitting the tank’s armor made a cracking sound, which made his heart pound, but to stay alive, he mustered the courage to follow closely.
Perhaps due to nerves or maybe because of the darkness, Godrova didn’t realize that there were fewer and fewer soldiers around him, until he was the only one left following the tank.
When he sensed something odd and turned to look back, suddenly a few ignited grenades were thrown beside him. Before he knew what was happening, he was engulfed by the explosion’s smoke.
...
From the beginning, Gezavier had a bad feeling. As he climbed out of the trench to lead the troops forward, he noticed a few soldiers always staying close by.
Were they guards?
Their forms seemed off.
Moreover, charging in dense formation at night, it wasn’t long before guards would be scattered by the gunfire.
Was he too sensitive?
But Gezavier didn’t think so, because no matter where he ran, those figures always pursued relentlessly like hounds eyeing their prey.
A thought jumped into his mind: he had interrogated many mutinous soldiers and detained some of them in solitary confinement, awaiting execution. The soldiers must bear a grudge against him.
Fear arose in Gezavier’s heart, and he suddenly realized he felt in danger, with enemies everywhere, and he could be devoured by the endless darkness at any moment.
"Raphael, Beltrand!" Gezavier shouted, again and again.
They were the two confidants he had brought from Paris, the only ones he could trust now.
"General!" Amid the gunfire, Gezavier faintly heard Raphael’s response.
Gezavier’s heart leapt with joy. He hid in a shell crater and shouted back in the direction of the voice, "Come to me, immediately..."
Before he finished speaking, Gezavier felt a pain in his chest. Looking down, he saw a military dagger had appeared in his chest without him noticing. Blood gushed out, and the blade protruding halfway out glinted dully in the firelight.
Gezavier fell to the ground powerlessly, struggling to breathe, cursing intermittently as his consciousness faded, "These bastards, they, even use, the Germans’ daggers!"
(Note: The daggers of the German and French armies are easily distinguishable, the former being short-bladed, and the latter needle-shaped.)
(The above two images compare the daggers of the German and French armies)
...
A few staff officers huddled in a shell crater, afraid to move forward, believing that nobody would notice them in the dark. They planned to stay there until the retreat order was given.
However, as they congratulated themselves on their "cleverness", several precise mortar shells suddenly landed in their crater.
A regiment commander was waving a revolver to order his men to charge, only to be struck down by several bullets from an unknown source.
The offensive lasted for over twenty minutes before retreating like a tide at Major General Kristen’s command.
Because it was a low-intensity, probing attack without a strong assault, the casualties were not heavy, totaling over two hundred.
But what was "unexpected" was the astonishingly high casualty rate among mid and senior officers: two brigadiers were killed, one colonel dead and another wounded, and eighteen staff officers, ten of whom were killed.
Upon returning, Major General Kristen immediately reported by phone to Ganmelin, his voice somber, reflecting with due earnestness:
"The officers were very brave, General. They charged to the front lines regardless of their own safety; perhaps that is one reason for the heavy casualties."
"Additionally, I have reason to suspect that the Germans sent a ’Storm Assault Team’ to counterattack our troops."
"Otherwise, such a situation is unlikely!"
The "Storm Assault Team" was a special forces unit of the German Army, which often infiltrated enemy positions to attack command posts.
Ganmelin gave a cold snort as he received the casualty report.
Having served for 22 years, he knew what was going on. In the army, there were some unspoken rules, where laggards or those deemed a threat to the safety of the troops might be punished or even eliminated for the overall good.
This was clearly a case of "unwritten rules" at play.
But Ganmelin didn’t call it out. He glanced at Shire, who was leisurely reading a newspaper at the desk, then turned back and coldly ordered his aide in a low voice, "Examine the bodies, don’t let anyone find out."
However, the aide responded, "They have been examined, General, no problems found."
He handed over a report as he spoke.
Ganmelin took a look and almost fainted with rage.
All the deaths were from grenades, mortars, or German daggers. Even the bullets extracted from the wounds were from German Luger pistols!