Chapter 237: Equipment Request Report

One piece of good news, one piece of bad news. One was heaven, the other was hell.

Joffre and his Generals were caught in an unprecedented dilemma. Abandoning the favorable situation in the South and withdrawing the main forces to defend Paris? That meant all their previous efforts and sacrifices would be in vain. For Joffre, who had always believed that ‘offense is the best defense,’ this was unacceptable.

But ignoring Paris could lead to disaster.

“We cannot withdraw! Absolutely not from the South!” A General, noticing Joffre’s hesitation, immediately spoke with agitation: “This is our only chance! If we can penetrate the Saxon homeland from the South, we will force them to withdraw their troops, and the siege of Paris will be lifted naturally!”

“But what if the Saxons ignore us? What if they are determined to take Paris first?!” Another General immediately countered. The sound of argument grew louder in the command post.

Marshal Joffre frowned, remaining silent. He, too, was engaged in an internal struggle.

After a long while, he slowly looked up and made his decision.

“Detatch two Corps from the Southern Group and immediately transport them by rail to reinforce Paris.”

“Simultaneously, order the immediate formation of the Sixth Army Group in Paris and the surrounding area, appointing Gallieni as its commander!”

“Tell him to block the Saxons outside the capital at all costs.”

“Furthermore…” Joffre’s voice grew somewhat strained: “Inform the Cabinet to immediately begin preparations for the contingency plan to relocate the capital to Bordeaux.”

As Joffre’s order was issued, Generals in the command post immediately voiced their opposition.

“Two Corps? Your Excellency, Marshal! How can two Corps possibly defend Paris?”

“The Saxons are advancing on Paris with two Army Groups! We need to withdraw at least four Corps—no, an entire Army Group—to have any chance of stopping them!”

“Yes, Marshal! If Paris falls, we will be in an extremely passive position!”

Facing the skepticism of his subordinates, Joffre merely waved his hand wearily. “Gentlemen, do you think I don’t want to?” His voice was filled with helplessness. At this stage of the war, many factors were beyond his control.

Joffre looked at the gathering, pausing before continuing: “But our offensive in the South is equally crucial! That is the only place where we can truly pose a threat to the Saxons!”

“If we transfer our main force back to Paris, what happens to the South Front? All the sacrifices we have made so far will be for naught!” He pointed to the pieces on the sand table representing the Gallic First and Second Army Groups, which were already deeply wedged into Alsace and Lorraine. “Look here! We are just one step away from the Saxons’ industrial heartland! If we can seize this area, we will severely cripple their war potential! At that point, even if they take Paris, they will only gain an empty shell!” Joffre grew more agitated, as if seeing the dawn of victory.

“And, you must not forget, we have the Britannians! Although their Expeditionary Force has temporarily retreated, their home fleet is still on the coast, and the second wave of the Expeditionary Force has arrived! As long as we hold on, they cannot stand by and watch us fall!”

Joffre’s words slightly alleviated the tension in the command post. Indeed, the Southern Front was their only hope. If they could seize this opportunity to deliver a crippling blow to the Saxons, it might truly reverse the entire course of the war.

“But… what about Paris?” one General still asked worriedly.

Joffre: “The outer cities of Paris can delay the Saxons’ advance. Coupled with the newly formed Sixth Army Group, I believe they can buy us enough time.”

“Furthermore, I have already sent an urgent telegram to Field Marshal John French, requesting that the Expeditionary Force hold the flank of Paris at all costs.”

The Generals fell silent. They knew Joffre had made what he believed was the most rational decision. Although this decision was fraught with gambling, given the current situation, they had no better option than to roll the dice.

“Very well, execute the orders immediately!” Joffre commanded finally.

Soon, radio waves flew out from the Gallic Army General Staff Headquarters, heading toward various fronts. In the Southern Group, two Corps began emergency assembly, boarding trains bound for Paris. The soldiers’ faces were filled with confusion and apprehension over the sudden order to return to the capital’s defense.

In Paris, the city hailed as the ‘most prosperous in Europa,’ had descended into unprecedented panic. News of the advancing Saxon Army spread through the city like a plague. Although the newspapers and government still swore the ‘enemy has been contained outside the border,’ the wealthy and officials fleeing in panic with their families silently revealed the truth.

The railway stations were packed. The roads leading south were completely clogged with all kinds of vehicles. The entire city was permeated with a sense of desperation and impending doom. Simultaneously, Paris and the surrounding areas began a new round of emergency mobilization. Large numbers of women took to the streets, calling on all men in Paris to fight on the front line to defend the capital. Children and the elderly alike were targeted as potential conscripts. This behavior quickly turned radical, with these female groups even distributing white feathers—a symbol of cowardice—to men who hadn’t joined the army, publicly shaming them.

In this environment, countless young men, middle-aged men, and even white-haired elderly and minors, answered the call of the government and these women’s groups, donning uniforms and taking up arms. This hastily assembled ‘Sixth Army Group,’ comprised of citizens, police, and firemen, was hurriedly sent to the defense lines north of Paris, ready to use their bodies to block the seemingly unstoppable spearhead of the Saxon Empire.

The Gallic Republic, once a formidable power on the continent, was now facing the most dangerous moment since its founding.

All of this was temporarily irrelevant to Morin, who was recuperating in the Field Hospital. He intended to seize this rare period of downtime to put all his ideas about the Instruction Assault Battalion’s future equipment and organization down on paper, turning them into official reports for submission. His vision for the popularization of Magic Affinity was distant and vast, but he knew he had to proceed step by step. Securing better equipment for his unit and enhancing their combat power within the existing framework was the most immediate and realistic goal.

He picked up a pen and wrote the title of his report:

Emergency Request Regarding the Augmentation of the Instruction Assault Battalion with 75.8mm Mortar Launchers and the Formation of Flamethrower Units

Morin took a deep breath, and his pen moved swiftly across the paper. He knew that the moment this report was submitted, the Instruction Assault Battalion, this ‘unique’ unit, would once again undergo an evolution.

Morin wrote quickly, his arguments clear and logically sound. The mortar had always been something Morin desired. Since he had no other option for now, Morin requested 12 75.8mm ‘Grenade Launchers’ (Mortar Launchers). This weapon was not widely issued in the Saxon Army—only two per Brigade, and most infantry Brigades didn’t even have it. It was a prototype mortar, though its structure was significantly different from the mortars Morin remembered. The barrel was 23.5 cm long, had 6 rifled grooves, and was supported by hydraulic cylinders on the sides and back to absorb recoil. A spring returned the barrel to position. The weapon was mounted on a rectangular base plate, with an elevation angle of +45° to +78°, and a horizontal traverse of only 7°. It was muzzle-loaded and fired by a lanyard pull, with a skilled crew capable of achieving a rate of fire of about 45 rounds per minute. Although this ‘Grenade Launcher’ was still somewhat cumbersome, for the Instruction Assault Battalion, having it was better than not.

In the section concerning the 75.8mm Mortar Launcher, he avoided lengthy discussions about the brutality of Street Fighting. Instead, he directly cited the specific difficulties the Instruction Assault Battalion and allied units faced during the siege of Amiens.

“…Facing Britannian units holding sturdy buildings, our unit and allied units, lacking effective indirect fire support, were forced to rely on demolition assaults or trade lives for space, resulting in numerous unnecessary casualties…”

“…The 75.8mm Mortar Launcher, due to its light weight (compared to conventional field artillery) and excellent curved trajectory, can grant our infantry valuable autonomous breach capability against hardened enemy strongpoints, removing the need to constantly call for rear artillery support.”

He even thoughtfully included a hand-drawn tactical diagram: an infantry squad advancing under Machine Gun cover, while the Mortar Launcher crew in the rear, at a relatively safe location, conducts precision strikes on the enemy’s Machine Gun positions.

As for the concept of the ‘Flamethrower Platoon,’ his reasoning was even more direct.

“In the house-to-house fighting in South Amiens, our unit repeatedly encountered situations where the enemy fiercely resisted from complex terrain (such as basements, corners, or behind furniture).”

“Conventional firearms and hand grenades are inefficient and high-risk in clearing such targets.”

“The liquid fire and high temperature released by the Flamethrower can not only inflict devastating casualties on clustered targets in the open but, with its unique splashing and flowing properties, can effectively kill stubborn enemies hiding in cover, Trenches, and blind spots inside buildings, while also posing a massive psychological deterrent to the enemy forces.”

To increase the persuasive power of his report, he did not forget to mention information he had obtained from an engineer in the Army Group’s Fortification Troops while recovering in the Field Hospital.

“…It is rumored that the Army Group’s Fortification Troops have already been equipped with a small number of two-man operated, ‘40-meter class’ Flamethrower devices, and they have achieved good results in battlefield testing.”

“I implore the General Staff to consider prioritizing the distribution of such mature equipment to frontline Assault Units to minimize the sacrifice of our brave soldiers.”

Morin wrote thousands of words in a single sitting. He reviewed the report several times, ensuring the language conveyed the urgency of the need while remaining humble and professional, avoiding offense to the high-ranking officers who would approve the report.

Putting down his pen, Morin finally let out a long breath. His waist wound had mostly healed during these days of rest. He lay back on the cot, closing his eyes, but his mind continued to race.

These two pieces of equipment were only the first step of his plan. They would solve the ‘availability’ problem in Street Fighting and fixed defense, but they were essentially still conventional weapons. However, compared to the distant dream of ‘Magic Affinity’ soldiers, these tangible items were the quickest way to enhance his unit.

(End of this Chapter)