Chapter 245: Holding Action

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“Didn’t we win? The French are nothing special,” Borol said, picking up a rifle from the body of a French scout. With his other hand, he searched the corpse’s pockets.

Just a moment ago, a seven-man French reconnaissance unit had arrived here. They had foolishly entered the village and had been ambushed by the German paratroopers led by Borol. The German forces had opened fire from all sides, and all of the French soldiers had been cut down in a matter of seconds.

“It seems the main force of the French army is not far away,” Baru said, pulling a few banknotes from the body of a French soldier and stuffing them into his own pocket. He then pulled a pack of French cigarettes from the other pocket.

The bearded man came over to divide the spoils. He was clearly more interested in a standard-issue French army binocular. He had also gotten a French pistol and seemed to be in a good mood.

“They are indeed not far away,” Borol nodded. “A tough battle is coming. Let’s see how we can hold out here for three hours.”

A few hours later…

The rumbling of cannons in the distance indicated that the French army had already launched an assault on the main German defensive positions, but this village on the flank still maintained its peace and quiet. The ground trembled slightly with the explosion of the shells, and the branches of the trees creaked in the cold wind.

A French B1 heavy tank slowly climbed up a slope and appeared in front of the quiet Dutch village that Borol was defending. It was followed by another B1, its turret appearing over the horizon. Behind these two tanks followed dozens of French soldiers in their distinctively shaped steel helmets.

This French B1 heavy tank was armed with one 47mm and one 75mm cannon. It had 60mm of frontal armor, a combat weight of 30 tons, and a novel design. The main turret still had a fairly good field of view when closed, and there was an emergency escape hatch at the bottom of the vehicle. In addition, the transmission system was also protected by armor. It could be said to be the tank with the strongest firepower and protection in the early stages of World War II, with the exception of the Soviet KV heavy tank. However, the mechanical performance of the Char B1 was not very stable, and it often broke down. Moreover, it required a high degree of coordination from its four crew members to fully exert its combat effectiveness. The French army at the time was very short of such well-trained tankers, which made the combat efficiency of this B1 tank very low.

If this were another timeline, the German infantry would clearly have been helpless against this French behemoth. Their 37mm anti-tank guns could not penetrate this tank’s protective armor at all. But now, Germany’s anti-tank guns had been upgraded to 75mm caliber, which was clearly capable of dealing with this type of tank.

Borol lowered the binoculars in his hand and ran, hunched over in the trench, to a machine gun position. He pointed to the French infantry following behind the French tank. “When you open fire in a moment, ignore the tank and deal with the infantry directly. Without those infantrymen, the tank is not that difficult to deal with.”

The machine gunner nodded and, through the grass, aimed the muzzle of his Maxim heavy machine gun at the foremost French soldier. Borol glanced at Baru in the distance and saw that Baru was also looking at him. He gave Baru a nod, and Baru also nodded back.

“Fire!” At a sufficiently close distance, the German ambush position opened fire. The reason for letting the French forces get so close was that Borol had his own plan: he only had one anti-tank gun, so he wanted his infantry to open fire first, while the anti-tank gun on the side launched a sneak attack from a corner, so that the French tanks wouldn’t know what kind of weapon had destroyed them.

“Rat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!” With a single command, the machine gun nests on both sides of the German position opened fire. The bullets flew toward the French like a swarm of locusts. The weapons in the hands of the German army were clearly far superior to the French army in terms of fire density. Long guns and short guns opened fire together. Tracer rounds, mixed with regular bullets, instantly cut down a dozen or so French soldiers.

The sudden attack by the German paratroopers clearly stunned the French. The French infantry began to rout, leaving the two seemingly huge B1 tanks in the middle of the road. The French tanks were still moving forward. Their heavy bodies were not fast, but their tall silhouettes made the German paratroopers a little uneasy. After all, these big guys looked very sturdy—and in fact, they were indeed very sturdy.

On the small turret, the 7.5mm machine gun next to the 47mm cannon was firing fiercely. A German paratrooper, because he was too close, was hit by the machine gun and fell into the trench. This French army had achieved its first result.

“Boom!” The German anti-tank gun that had been hidden in a corner finally opened fire. The shell slammed into the side of the French B1 tank. It seemed to have pierced its thick side skirt plate, leaving a dark hole in it. The angle of this shot was very well judged. The French tank, carried by its inertia, moved forward half a meter and then stopped.

A loud roar followed, and the tank’s ammunition cooked off. Flames instantly shot out of the vehicle’s hull. The turret was blown high into the air. The large cannon on the front of the hull drooped down, as if it had lost its soul. The tank began to emit thick smoke, which blocked the view of the tank behind it. The other French tank clumsily adjusted its direction, attempting to go around the obstacle blocking the road.

The thick smoke blocked the view of the French army, and it also blocked the view of the German army. Because they could not aim and fire, the German forces’ fire stopped. They silently watched as the French army withdrew from the position. This brief exchange of fire had cost the French force about half of its strength—about twenty soldiers and one tank.

The German paratroopers began a short rest. They buried their only comrade who had been killed in action in a drainage ditch by the side of the road. No one spoke. They just grabbed bread with their hands, which were stained with oil and dirt, to sate their hunger. Although they had had a short rest, some people still fell asleep in the trench after the battle.

It was clear that the French had no intention of letting the German paratroopers complete their mission so easily. About a dozen minutes later, a heavy artillery shell landed in the central square of the village. The huge explosion made everyone’s heart jump. Soon, a second shell hit a house. The huge impact tore the house into splinters. The furniture was turned into broken wood and scattered everywhere. Some wooden planks and broken glass were even embedded in the walls of the nearby houses.

The German paratroopers hid in their trenches, holding their steel helmets and enduring the hellish ordeal. The French fired a dozen or so shots before stopping. The entire small town had been turned into a ruin. Half of the church had collapsed. Fortunately, the Dutch residents inside had been driven to another place long before.

After the shelling, Borol checked his defensive positions and took an inventory of the remaining ammunition for all his men. Soon, because of the ammunition shortage, he had one of the Maxim machine guns dismantled—he threw some of the key parts into the latrine. The German soldiers who had been operating this machine gun had to take back their own weapons. They were divided into two groups and were responsible for the security of the left and right flanks.

Soon, the French armored forces’ attack began again. This time, the French army seemed to have used all the strength they could muster. From a distance, Borol saw three French FT-17 Renault light tanks and two B1 behemoths. Behind these tanks followed two armored cars, but without infantry protection.

Borol immediately lowered the binoculars in his hand and, along the drainage ditch and the dug trenches, came to the position of the small warehouse on the flank of the village. He went around a Maxim machine gun nest deployed at the entrance of the warehouse and came to the side of the anti-tank gun from behind the warehouse.

“The French have brought a lot of tanks this time. It seems they want to go around us from here and attack our main position on the flank,” Borol said, pointing in the direction from which the French tanks had come to the bearded man.

The bearded man was sitting on an ammunition box, a unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. “We can probably take out two of them. By the third, we’ll probably be discovered. It would be best to use the Bofors to cover us… but I don’t know how long we can hold out.”

Sighing, Borol patted the bearded man’s shoulder. “Hold out for as long as you can.”

“Crack!” Not far from them, a German sniper hidden in a house opened fire. The sniper left the window and exited the room. At the main door, he happened to see Borol and the others looking in his direction, so he made a hand signal.

“Their infantry is coming around,” Borol cursed “bitch” under his breath. He picked up his assault rifle and ran toward the sniper, shouting to the direction of the village square as he ran, “A few men over here! I need support.”

“Rat-tat! Rat-tat!” On the main front, the German paratroopers’ Maxim machine gun opened fire. This time, there didn’t seem to be a target, so their rate of fire was not fast. They were probably trying to save ammunition. After all, they had another such heavy machine gun at the warehouse, and the bullets could be brought back for this machine gun nest to use.

Soon, Baru arrived with an MG42. A machine gun nest was set up on the vulnerable German flank. The unique sound of the German machine gun rang out, and several of the flanking French soldiers were killed. Soon, the French machine guns also began to return fire. Relying on their numerical advantage, they opened fire from both sides, temporarily suppressing the German machine gun’s attack.

“Boom!” Behind Borol, not far away, the German anti-tank gun opened fire. A shell accurately hit an FT-17 Renault tank. The tank was directly pierced by the shell and once again exploded violently.

“Quick! Reload the shell!” the bearded man commanded his loader, while turning his head to look at his flank, where the German troops were struggling to return fire under the suppression of the French machine guns. A German sniper hidden in the ruins opened fire and took out a French machine gunner. The German machine gun roared to life once again, and the French infantry could only lie flat on their stomachs and wait for their own fire to suppress the enemy again.