Chapter 191: Buddy, Is That What I Meant?

Although Morin felt the First Imperial Guards Cavalry Division’s operational plan was somewhat risky, he had no authority to interfere, so he could only provide all known information to the best of his ability. He sighed, looking at the Cavalry Captain named Marwitz before him, and decided it was best to let them see the cruel reality for themselves.

“Captain, you may be under some misunderstanding about the Gallic fighting will…” Morin stood up, leading them toward the temporary Command Post exit: “Come with me. I’ll take you to the front line. You’ll understand why I have these concerns, and it might also help you in your coming battle.”

Captain Marwitz and the other two cavalry officers exchanged glances. At least at this moment, they still felt Morin’s claims were somewhat exaggerated. But out of politeness, they followed Morin out of the headquarters.

Morin offered no further explanation, leading them directly to a Military Truck, and after a few minutes, they arrived at the 1st Company’s position.

The closer they got to the front line, the stronger the combined smell of blood and stench became. Captain Marwitz and the others initially maintained the composure of noble officers, but quickly, their faces grew increasingly pale, and their brows furrowed tightly.

“What is that smell?” one young cavalry officer couldn’t help but cover his nose.

“The smell of a large number of bodies decomposing together,” Morin said without looking back.

The cavalry officers exchanged looks of dismay.

The truck stopped at the 1st Company’s temporary company headquarters. Klaus was stunned to see Morin return with several cavalrymen, but he immediately rushed over.

“Battalion Commander, why are you back?”

“I brought a few allied comrades to check the situation.” Morin said, leading Marwitz and the others, protected by several 1st Company soldiers, up to the second floor of a building on the very front of the second defense line.

This was an observation point with an excellent view, allowing a clear sight of the street ahead, which had been turned into a living hell.

The moment Captain Marwitz raised the binoculars Morin handed him and saw the scene ahead, he froze entirely.

In the binoculars’ view, the once-wide street was completely covered by corpses. Blue and red uniforms were intertwined, forming a vast, unbroken ‘carpet.’ Mutilated limbs and twisted weapons were scattered everywhere. In some places, the bodies were piled over a meter high, forming sickening mountains of corpses. Swarms of flies were circling above the bodies, buzzing loudly. And that stench, so thick it was almost tangible, emanated from this field of death.

“My God…” Captain Marwitz lowered the binoculars, his face pale, his lips slightly trembling. The two officers behind him also saw the sight. One young officer nearly lost control, fiercely clenching his fists and digging his nails into his palms to maintain his composure.

As the elite Imperial Guards Cavalry of the Saxon Empire, they had undergone the harshest training and imagined the brutality of the battlefield. But unfortunately, as a new generation of Imperial Guards officers, they had not participated in combat of this intensity, nor had they seen such a cruel spectacle. The sight before them, resembling a slaughterhouse, far exceeded their imagination.

This was no longer fighting…

“Do you understand now?” Morin’s voice came from beside them. He looked calmly at the cavalry officers. “The Gauls were climbing over the bodies of their own comrades, charging at us wave after wave. Their tenacity and fighting will are far greater than you imagine.”

Captain Marwitz was silent. He turned to Morin with a look of awe and shock. He finally understood the immense pressure Morin and his seemingly small unit had endured over the past two days. They were not facing a small Gallic harassment force but an entire fanatical army, brainwashed by the ‘Offensive Doctrine’ and fighting with a complete disregard for death. And the Instruction Assault Battalion, right here, had managed to halt their advance.

“Captain Morin… I… I apologize to you and your unit for my previous ignorance.” Captain Marwitz took a deep breath and rendered a solemn salute to Morin. In that moment, the last vestiges of his pride as an Imperial Guards Cavalry officer were completely replaced by the hellish scene and his respect for the Instruction Assault Battalion.

“There is no need for that; it hasn’t come to an apology. I should be thanking you for coming to our aid,” Morin waved his hand. He found himself warming up to this young cavalry officer. They were Imperial Guards ‘family,’ after all, and his words were pleasant to hear.

After a moment’s pause, Captain Marwitz continued: “Captain Morin, I completely understand now. Our First Imperial Guards Cavalry Division’s mission to relieve Charleroi is far more important than I imagined!” He looked at the sea of blood and corpses, then back at Morin. “As fellow ‘Imperial Guards,’ we will not stand idly by while you fight such a difficult battle!”

“Please rest assured. In the coming battle, my colleagues and I will accomplish our mission at all costs, and we will absolutely not tarnish the reputation of the ‘Saxon Royal Imperial Guards’!”

Seeing Captain Marwitz’s fervent expression, which clearly screamed, “We understand, watch us chop them to pieces,” Morin opened his mouth but ultimately swallowed his words.

Only one thought remained in his mind.

“Huh? Buddy… Is that what I meant? I didn’t want you to rush to your death too, bro!”

He had only wanted to warn them that the enemy was formidable, and that they should be careful and not be reckless when operating alone. Morin felt a headache coming on. He realized he had underestimated the mindset of these old-era officers. In their view, honor, courage, and sacrifice seemed to be the ultimate answers to all problems.

Morin: “Alright… In that case, let’s return to the Command Post. I have more intelligence about the Gauls to share with you… To know yourself and your enemy is the sure way to victory.”

Captain Marwitz nodded heavily. He was now fully convinced of every word Morin said. A commander who could reduce the Gauls to such a state undoubtedly offered golden advice.

Back in the temporary Command Post, the thick stench of corpses was slightly fainter. Captain Marwitz and the others looked a little better, but the look in their eyes toward Morin was completely different from when they arrived. If before it was simple courtesy and politeness between colleagues, now it was pure admiration and conviction.

“Sit down, have some water.” Morin gestured toward the chairs by the table, first taking a large gulp of cold water himself.

While escorting Marwitz and his men on their ‘tour,’ Morin had already been planning. Since he couldn’t dissuade these highly motivated cavalrymen, he could only provide them with the most accurate intelligence possible, allowing them to suffer fewer losses and avoid being recklessly sacrificed.

“Captain Marwitz, what I am about to tell you is extremely important and concerns the safety of your entire division. Please make sure to write down every word and convey it to General Hoeppner.” Morin’s expression became serious.

“Please speak, I am all ears.” Marwitz immediately sat up straight. The two officers behind him also took out their small notebooks, ready to record.

“First, regarding the enemy cavalry forces…” Morin looked at the map on the table, pointing to the open area south of Charleroi. “Yesterday, the Gallic Third Cavalry Division already launched a probing attack against us, but we repelled them.”

“The Gallic Third Cavalry Division is already here?” Marwitz was surprised. The Third Cavalry Division was a front-line cavalry division and one of the main cavalry units in the Gallic order of battle. Had they already been defeated during the attack on Charleroi?

“Yes.” “We crippled at least three Cuirassier Squadrons and three Dragoon Squadrons in a small skirmish on the outskirts of the city.”

“But their main force should still be around Charleroi City, providing flank cover for their infantry. I estimate they will be the first unit you encounter once you deploy on the South Bank.” Morin paused, then continued:

“I have several key pieces of intelligence about this cavalry division. First, their Cuirassiers are equipped with Enchanted Cuirasses that are highly protective, capable of resisting four 7.92mm Mauser rounds.”

“Second, their training level is high, and their commanders are very good at seizing opportunities, extremely skilled in using cavalry mobility for infiltration and flanking maneuvers. You must not take them lightly in a field battle.”

“Third, and most important.” Morin’s tone became exceptionally grave. “It’s about their 75mm Magic Guided Cannons… The power of this weapon is, I estimate, far beyond your expectation. It not only has an extremely high rate of fire, but the shells are augmented by Magic Guided Technology, making the blast power much greater than our own 77mm field gun. If your Horse Artillery Battalion rashly engages them, they will likely suffer heavy losses.”

The intelligence Morin provided was incredibly crucial and valuable to Marwitz and his men. In this era, there was no systematic, efficient intelligence sharing mechanism between the different armies. The Saxon ‘Military Intelligence Department’ was more like a collection of independent agencies under the General Staff or various branches, with the primary job of organizing and filing public information.

At least in Morin’s memory, the Imperial German Army of the world before he crossed over did not establish the relatively professional General Staff Third Section (military intelligence) until late 1914.

The main sources of intelligence were military observation teams exchanged during peacetime, publicly released military magazines—which often hired retired officers to write articles—and periodic reports from foreign embassies. This intelligence work, relying purely on human effort and lacking unified standards, was extremely inefficient, and its accuracy was questionable. Most of the time, the high command of various countries received ambiguous information such as, “A certain country may be developing a new 300mm caliber cannon,” or “A certain country’s navy may be launching a new battleship.”

Precise intelligence like Morin’s, which gave specific performance parameters, unit designations, command styles, and even casualty reports of the enemy, was utterly preposterous.

Captain Marwitz and his companions quickly took notes, cold sweat breaking out on their foreheads. The more they listened, the more alarmed they became. If they hadn’t personally witnessed the hellish scene in the city, they might even have suspected Morin was exaggerating. But now, they fully believed Morin’s words.

“Captain Morin, this intelligence is too important!” Captain Marwitz looked up after finishing his notes. “On behalf of the First Imperial Guards Cavalry Division, I thank you again!” He was already feeling a sense of dread. If they had charged ahead without this warning, they might truly have been shattered.

“You’re welcome, we are all Imperial Guards ‘family’…” Morin waved his hand. “That’s all I can do. The rest of the battle is up to you.”

“I understand!” Marwitz solemnly put away his notebook filled with intelligence, then stood up and rendered another perfect military salute to Morin. “Captain Morin, I must return to Division Headquarters immediately to inform General Hoeppner of this intelligence! Farewell!”

With that, he and the two officers hurriedly departed without looking back, their rapid pace suggesting they were afraid of delaying even a second.

Morin, Kleist, and Manstein escorted them outside the North City. Before they mounted their horses, Morin specifically advised them that if they needed to retreat, they could do so through the two flanks of Charleroi. The Gallic attack was relatively weaker there, and the Instruction Assault Battalion could provide cover.

Captain Marwitz nodded heavily at the suggestion, then turned his horse, clapped his heels into its flanks, and rode off with the other cavalrymen.

Watching the cavalry unit rapidly disappear in a cloud of dust, Morin’s heart was anything but relaxed.

“I hope their General is a sensible man who listens to advice,” he muttered softly.

Kleist and Manstein exchanged glances, both seeing the same concern in the other’s eyes.

“Battalion Commander, do you think the First Imperial Guards Cavalry Division’s attack will be stalled…” Manstein couldn’t help but ask.

Morin was silent for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t know… too many factors influence victory and defeat in a field battle. I just hope they don’t treat ‘charging’ as the only answer to all problems, like the Gauls.”

With that, he turned and walked back into the city. Morin had done everything he could now and could only pray that this heavily relied-upon friendly force would not fail them at this critical juncture.

South of the Sambre River, on the vast plain, a massive cavalry force was rapidly maneuvering. Thousands of cavalrymen formed long columns, rolling forward along the rural dirt roads. The dust kicked up by the hooves covered the sky, like a colossal yellow dragon winding its way through the fields. In the sunlight, the tips of the lances and the scabbards of the cavalry sabers reflected a dazzling cold gleam. The flapping pennons and regimental flags added to the unit’s formidable presence.

General Ernst von Hoeppner, Commander of the First Imperial Guards Cavalry Division, rode a magnificent pure black warhorse at the very front of the column. His staff and Dispatch Riders followed closely behind him. The entire division headquarters advanced with the main force.

After commanding the entire division to successfully cross the Sambre River, General Hoeppner did not halt, immediately ordering the entire division to maneuver toward the open area south of Charleroi. His plan was simple: use the cavalry’s mobility to harass the flank of the Gallic infantry division besieging Charleroi, forcing them to divert troops and thus relieve the pressure on the Instruction Assault Battalion inside the city.

“Order the Second Imperial Guards Hussar Regiment to advance in squadrons, deploying in a fan shape! Seize all high ground and the edges of the woods, and establish observation posts!” General Hoeppner commanded the Dispatch Rider behind him without looking back.

“Yes, General!” Several Dispatch Riders immediately spurred their horses away from the main column, galloping toward the direction of the Hussar Regiment.

Soon, one Hussar Squadron after another detached from the main column, scattering across the vast plain like a deployed fishing net.

(End of this Chapter)