I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France

Chapter 603: Covert Battle

Outside Namur City, the German defense line in the snowstorm.

This defense line was originally held by Admiral Nicholas’s 21st Army, meant to stop the breakthroughs and pursuits of the Belgian Army and Shire’s First Armored Corps.

But this elite force was redeployed to attack Antwerp, and the garrison was replaced by the 37th Army, which had just rested in Berlin.

The so-called "rest" meant that the troops had suffered severe losses at the front, were pulled back to recuperate while simultaneously integrating a large number of newly trained recruits, and then sent back to the front line.

The practice of sending recruits directly to the front line was not customary for the German Army. Usually, they would integrate recruits into reserve units, assign them low-intensity battle tasks to acclimate them to the battlefield before sending them into the main line.

But with the war reaching this point, the multi-front combat leading to a severe shortage of troops, they could no longer afford such habits.

Colonel Ralph stomped his feet in the trench, shivering nervously for a while before cautiously stepping on the parapet and peeking out to observe the Belgian defense line oppposite.

Nothing was visible; it was eerily quiet.

Snow covered everything; even the corpses and blood were hidden from sight.

When Colonel Ralph withdrew his head, Staff Officer Peter approached and asked, "What are you worried about, Colonel? The Belgian offensive?"

Ralph didn’t answer.

The nearby German soldiers confidently responded:

"Don’t worry, Colonel, although our army has many recruits, dealing with the Belgians is more than feasible."

"Yes, Colonel, we understand the Belgians. Their rifles and artillery are bought from us; they can’t hope to defeat us."

"Even if we lack combat experience, the Belgians are no better."

...

Colonel Ralph answered with a stern face, "You seem to forget that besides the Belgian Army, Namur also has Shire’s forces, the First Armored Corps."

These words instantly silenced everyone; the trench seemed to be swept by a cold wind, extinguishing the soldiers’ newly ignited fighting spirit.

After a long silence, Peter responded, "But Colonel, Shire’s First Armored Corps is about to be redeployed to Brussels."

The soldiers chimed in:

"Yes, everyone knows the First Armored Corps is going to attack Antwerp."

"Our forces are there, driving the British around like monkeys; Shire has to go help them."

"No, it should be about supplies, coastal cities are crucial supply points for the Allies, Shire has to secure them."

...

Colonel Ralph didn’t answer. Although the soldiers made valid points, he still felt something was amiss.

If, as they said, Shire had to secure Antwerp, then his tanks should have already been transported to Brussels.

But Colonel Ralph hadn’t heard any intelligence about this.

This means that Shire’s forces might still be in Namur, and their target might not necessarily be Antwerp.

Suddenly, Ralph’s expression changed, and he ordered, "Shut up, and be silent!"

The soldiers quickly fell silent, even those wiping their rifles stopped their actions, all turning puzzled eyes towards Colonel Ralph.

"Listen carefully." Colonel Ralph whispered, then asked, "Do you hear anything?"

The soldiers strained their ears, some even removed the cotton covers and wind caps from their ears.

Peter stood up and slightly peeked out, Colonel Ralph was right, there seemed to be a different sound amidst the piercing wind.

Like sobs, like wolf howls, like...

No, it was the roar of engines.

"Tanks." Peter exclaimed, looking back at the soldiers.

Instantly, shock and fear filled everyone’s eyes, including Colonel Ralph.

The Belgian Army didn’t have tanks; tanks meant Shire’s forces, the First Armored Corps was advancing towards them.

"This is impossible!" Someone shouted, his voice trembling, evidently sensing something dire but unwilling to face reality.

The noise grew louder; even the sound of tracks clashing with snow was audible.

Colonel Ralph quickly lay prone at the trench’s front, raising his binoculars. The silhouettes of dark tanks tore through the snowy veil, flooding the binoculars’ view, densely packed everywhere.

Though blurry, there was no doubt they were "Shire A1". Hidden among them were armored bridging vehicles.

"Alarm!" Colonel Ralph shouted back, "Battle preparation..."

Before finishing his sentence, a bullet pierced through the air and accurately hit Colonel Ralph’s head, leaving a blood trail on the trench’s rear wall. Colonel Ralph’s life was frozen at that moment, his body stiffly collapsing like a wooden stake.

The soldiers instantly fell into chaos. They scrambled out of the trench, setting up their rifles along the edge, while machine gunners followed into the positions.

Before they could understand what was happening, bullets seemingly guided by eyes knocked them into pools of blood.

The German recruits preparing to follow up were terrified, panting heavily, dumbfounded by the scene that deviated from their understanding of the battlefield.

Veterans had repeatedly told recruits:

"Before any enemy attack, there would be bombardment. This is called artillery cover."

"Then the enemy would launch an offensive. All you need to do is raise your rifle, aim at targets, and pull the trigger."

"Don’t worry. Defensive battles are not that dangerous. Just follow what the veterans do!"

"Think about the Battle of River Somme. We killed 100,000 British in a day; defensive battles have geographic advantages."

...

However, the recruits watched with wide eyes as these veterans who just poked their heads out were shot back, most with bullets in their heads, killing them instantly in front of them.

No artillery preparation, not even sight of the enemy, only the sound of gunfire, and so precise!

What’s going on?

Can we afford to poke our heads out?

Would poking our heads out lead to the same fate as the veterans?

Some daring recruits poked their heads out, only to meet the same end, having their brains blown out and dying on the spot. The machine gunners fired frantically but were soon taken down by a few bullets.

Terrified, the recruits clutched their rifles, squatting in the trench, shouting in confusion, not knowing what to do. Some tried to recall their instructor’s teachings but found their minds blank; no one had talked about this scenario.

Shire employed stealth tactics.

A snowy day offered the best cover, with soldiers binding white cloth to their rifles, draping white cloaks, and crawling under the cover of darkness to within 100 meters, 50 meters, or even closer to the enemy to lie in wait.

Just a half-hour or an hour of stillness, and the snow would cover all traces.

By dawn, thousands of soldiers would be lurking in front of the enemy’s trenches, aiming their dark gun barrels at them without the enemy knowing a thing.

(Note: This is a commonly used tactic by our forces, enabling close combat and melee when lacking artillery advantages. Qiu Shaoyun, a martyr, sacrificed heroically in a similar lurking operation to avoid alerting the enemy and affecting the battle plan.)