Search
    Header Background Image
    A translation website dedicated to translating Chinese web novels.
    Chapter Index

    Advanced chapter until 500+ at patreon.com/caleredhair

    Compared to the elegant and fluid duels of the air force, the battle on the ground could in no way be described as brilliant or magnificent. Here, there was only cruelty, only blood and death.

    In an open field, the bodies of French soldiers lay scattered about. A car had been completely destroyed, and burning flames were everywhere. A faint heat still rose from the craters. The sound of gunfire was dense. No one seeing this place would doubt the cruelty of war.

    “Machine gunners! The French are attacking again! You few, get the wounded to the rear first! Quick! Anti-tank guns, in position! Cover our flanks… Get the hand grenades ready,” a second lieutenant commanded loudly. “Signal the mortar position behind us. Tell them to open fire and cover us!”

    Two soldiers carrying Panzerfausts passed by him and, from a communication trench up ahead, ducked into a forward hidden trench. Their mission was to use their weapons at the last moment to defeat the French heavy tanks, which were like mammoths.

    On the German positions, several soldiers were carrying a wounded man back through a trench. Not far away, a machine gun nest was spitting a long tongue of flame, making the characteristic wood-sawing sound of a German machine gun. Tracer rounds drew long trails of light toward their target. In the distance, French soldiers fell into pools of blood. Since setting foot on this German soil, it seemed nothing had gone smoothly for them.

    The tanks covering the French infantry moved slowly across the battlefield, followed by a large number of crouching French infantrymen. Occasionally, a bullet would fly past a tank and hit someone behind it, and more men would begin to adjust their positions to adapt to the direction of the enemy’s attack. Not far in front of them, the wreckage of a burning light tank was spewing thick smoke.

    Suddenly, a cloud of white smoke erupted from behind some bushes. An anti-tank shell flew straight toward a French heavy tank. The powerful energy directly tore through the thick armor plate on the front of the tank, carrying shattered armor fragments into the tank’s interior, instantly riddling the men inside with holes.

    “Target hit! Left side, 500 meters! A French tank! It’s firing at us! Adjust angle, quick! Quick!” the anti-tank gunner shouted. Beside him, several infantrymen and a loader were struggling to adjust their large cannon. Not far away, the machine gun on a French tank was firing fiercely.

    The battle-hardened German infantry had deployed anti-tank guns in the bushes on both sides. This 75mm cannon could be said to be the nemesis of French tanks. Its low profile, combined with its large-caliber armor-piercing shells, could easily destroy any armored target from a distance of several hundred meters.

    “Have the artillery lay down covering fire on the enemy positions! Take out those anti-tank guns! Otherwise, all my tanks will be lost here!” a French commander commanded loudly to his adjutant, lowering the binoculars in his hand. “We’ve already lost seven tanks here!”

    “Boom!” “Boom! Boom!” With one loud roar after another, the cannons brought by the French forces finally opened fire. The shells landed on the German defensive line, kicking up clouds of black smoke. The German forces were forced to abandon a portion of their positions, but soon, the German artillery also paid its respects to the French army.

    A sudden suppressive barrage from a Friedrich rocket launcher caused heavy casualties among the French forces in an instant. Several hundred shells in the open were ignited and destroyed, and about five hundred soldiers had their lives, arms, or legs taken away by this surprise attack. Some gasoline that had been placed in a corner was also ignited, and several tank mechanics and a disabled tank were burned up by the exploding fuel.

    After crossing the Franco-German border for ten kilometers, the French finally saw a real German defensive line. In fact, it was just a temporary line in the woods. But they had already lost over a thousand men in front of this line, which had only been in existence for a few hours, without being able to break through and advance even a single meter.

    Stationed on their front was Germany’s elite 7th Infantry Division on the Western Front. This division was one of the first model infantry divisions of the Wehrmacht to be established and possessed the finest equipment and the most resolute will to fight. Relying only on the small number of 75mm anti-tank guns and Panzerfausts in their hands, they had repelled the French army’s offensive.

    And at this very moment, in the headquarters of this 7th Infantry Division, the division commander, Major General Friederici, was perfecting his defensive positions. The intensity of the French attack had also exceeded German expectations. While halting the French forces, the German army had also paid the price of over 400 killed in action. Rather than a battle in the Second World War, it was more fitting to see it as a continuation of the First.

    “Hello? This is Major General Friederici! Yes… I’m right here… Yes, General! I will hold here for four hours and will not retreat a single step,” Friederici said, putting down the phone. He then looked at the map hanging in front of him. “Order the troops of the 2nd Regiment to set up defenses around this village. I want them to hold here for at least 10 hours! Understood?”

    “As you command, General!” the adjutant beside him replied immediately. “I will contact the 2nd Regiment at once.”

    “In addition, commit the divisional armored artillery battalion to battle. Carry out a limited counter-attack on the main front to relieve the pressure on the entire defensive line,” Friederici said after a moment’s thought. “Also, have the head of the logistics department take an inventory of ammunition and fuel and apply to the higher-ups for replenishment.”

    “Division Commander!” an officer walked into the command post, slapped the dust off his body twice, and then said with a smile, “The reinforcements from Army Group have arrived for us. A whole company of new recruits.”

    “Assign them to the companies that have suffered the heaviest losses. Each company can be supplemented with a maximum of 25 men. Do it according to this. Try to reinforce a few more companies. Almost all the frontline units are requesting reinforcements,” the adjutant said, handing the officer a pre-written order. “Next time, bring some replacements who know about medical care. We’re short of medics…”

    ***

    A French officer stormed into the simple field command post, threw his steel helmet onto the table, which was covered with a clean map, making a sharp “clang.” He ignored the officers who were looking at him, grabbed a teacup from the table, and poured the coffee inside into his mouth.

    “It’s hard to imagine that such a rude man could be a French officer. You seem even more barbaric than the Germans,” a colonel said, pursing his lips and looking with dissatisfaction at the man who had just entered the command post. “Can’t you be a little more civilized?”

    “If you don’t want me to break your neck, you’d better shut your mouth,” the officer said, wiping the liquid dripping from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and taking a deep breath. “Sir, my division has suffered heavy losses at the front. You told me that there was only one German regiment in front of me, but I have personally checked their firepower. It’s at least a division.”

    Sitting in the main seat was the commander of the French forces, General de Gaulle. He was stroking his chin and frowning, looking at his strongest subordinate, Major General Focislot, who had just walked in. “Your division has been fighting for two hours. It seems the German forces have indeed been reinforced. Have your troops pull back. News just came in that the German Air Force has gained air superiority. We must retreat to the Maginot Line immediately, because we lack anti-aircraft weapons.”

    “Are you kidding me, sir?” Focislot looked at his superior with an expression of disbelief. “I’ve left 900 excellent soldiers on that field! My division has 27 tanks destroyed there! And now you’re telling me to retreat?”

    “That’s right! Retreat! We underestimated the Germans this time. We are extremely unprepared and cannot immediately launch a large-scale ground operation here,” de Gaulle explained with a sigh. “If we don’t retreat now, you will soon find that your entire division will be annihilated here.”

    “The air force’s planes have been defeated?” Focislot was taken aback, then looked at his most trusted superior, de Gaulle. “How is that possible?”

    “That’s a problem for the technical department! The air force is in chaos. We were like a bunch of idiots, packing up our own fighter planes and sending them directly under the Germans’ butcher’s knife,” de Gaulle said dejectedly. “I hear the Germans used that kind of rocket that trails white smoke, the one they used to attack you, against our planes. This weapon flew in a dense swarm toward our plane formations and caused us to lose almost all of our bombers.”

    “My God,” Focislot muttered in shock.

    “We lost this one, lost very thoroughly,” de Gaulle said, standing up. He walked over to his favored general and patted him on the shoulder. “A telegram just arrived. There are already voices of discontent back home about this operation. We can’t possibly win this battle now, so we can only try to minimize our losses.”

    Just after noon, the French army’s attack stopped. Soldiers carrying a white flag went to the German positions to negotiate, hoping to bring back as many of their comrades’ bodies as possible. The German frontline commanders, after a brief discussion, allowed the unarmed French soldiers to walk into the middle of the battlefield.

    At a little after two in the afternoon, the French army began to retreat. They loaded the bodies onto trucks and then left with their heads bowed. At dawn, they had crossed the Franco-German border with contempt, but now, facts had proven that they had failed to complete their mission. They had been defeated by the Germans.

    Soon, the German Air Force’s bomber formations flew over the battlefield and kicked the routed French forces while they were down. Bombs were dropped on the open country, sending swarms of French soldiers to hell. Lacking air cover and having few anti-aircraft weapons of their own, the French had to abandon dozens more tanks and hundreds of vehicles to get away. By the time they returned to the positions from which they had set out that morning, they found that many familiar faces were no longer to be seen.

    You can support the author on
    Note