Chapter 322: Western Front Standoff Continues

Inside the massive semi-underground fortification, the space was divided into several sections.

Several army group staff officers were busy at their respective desks, the ringing of telephones and the “tick-tack” sounds of telegraph machines rising and falling.

A huge Western Front campaign situation map hung on the wall, filled with various tactical symbols marked in red and blue arrows and notations. The atmosphere was tense yet orderly.

As soon as Morin walked in, he immediately attracted quite a few gazes.

Everyone in the First Army Group Headquarters was all too familiar with him.

Plus, his brand-new, crisp uniform formed a stark contrast with the travel-worn appearance of most officers here.

And Morin smilingly stuffed a pack of cigarettes into the hands of each of these staff officers—officers naturally had cigarette rations, but obviously, the quality of these ration cigarettes was completely different from the tobacco enjoyed by those “big shots” in the rear.

This also made the gazes of these staff officers looking at Morin even more eager.

“Lieutenant Colonel Morin, this way please.”

An officer who proactively came over to lead the way obviously had considerable status here. He led Morin through the busy operations room to an independent space separated by wooden boards.

“General, Lieutenant Colonel Morin has arrived.”

“Let him in.” An aged and majestic voice came from inside.

Morin nodded to this officer, then walked in carrying the gifts.

The innermost space wasn’t large, with simple furnishings. A huge table and the map at the end of the space occupied most of the room.

General Mackensen was standing with his hands behind his back in front of the map. General Seeckt, his Chief of Staff, stood beside him, holding a cup of coffee.

Seeing these two generals again, Morin could clearly feel the fatigue on them.

The wrinkles on General Mackensen’s face seemed deeper, and more white hairs were added to his temples, but those falcon-like eyes were still sharp, and his aura of natural authority hadn’t diminished a bit.

General Seeckt looked slightly better in complexion, but the red blood vessels in his eyes also exposed his long-term exhaustion.

“Your Excellency General, General Seeckt.” Morin put down the things in his hands, stood at attention, and saluted.

“Sit, Lieutenant Colonel Morin.”

General Mackensen turned around, pointed to the chair by the table, glanced at the two cloth bags Morin brought, and didn’t speak.

Before the two generals could speak, Morin proactively lifted the two bags and placed them on the table beside him.

“General, these are some herbal supplements and malted milk extract I brought from the rear.”

He opened the bags and took out the items inside.

“Pressure on the front line is high, and both you and General Seeckt are not young anymore. Overusing your brains every day, you must pay attention to your health… Relying solely on three meals a day in the camp, the nutrition might not keep up.”

Mackensen looked at the pile of colorful bottles and cans on the table. Although there wasn’t much expression on that poker face that was always stern, he still snorted.

“Hmph, getting these flashy things… am I the kind of person who needs to drink this sweet stuff?”

Although saying so, he didn’t ask anyone to take the things away.

Seeckt laughed very happily, picking up a can of malted milk extract said to be specifically for middle-aged and elderly people to look at: “This is good stuff… Lieutenant Colonel Morin is thoughtful. We old guys are indeed not as physically fit as you young people.”

Looking at General Mackensen’s unchanging poker face, Morin didn’t feel awkward either. Instead, he said with a grin: “Later when I go out, I must instruct the adjutants of the two generals properly to watch you drink these nutritional supplements every day…”

Hearing his words, the corner of General Mackensen’s mouth seemed to twitch slightly, but soon returned to normal.

After simple pleasantries, the topic quickly entered the main subject.

“Morin, transferring you and your unit here has only one purpose, that is to serve as the core of the upcoming important operations.”

General Mackensen said straight to the point.

“The situation might be more complicated than you expected. According to aerial reconnaissance and intelligence department news, the opposite Britannians are gathering heavy troops in this area.”

“They want to attack?” Morin looked at those dense red arrows on the map.

“Not just want to, they have already put the knife to our necks.”

Seeckt took over the conversation, his tone solemn: “Britannia has invested heavily this time. Besides a larger number of Magic Crystal Cannons, they also transferred a large number of new field guns and several elite units from the colonies.”

“Their goal is very clear—to plan an unprecedented large-scale offensive, break through our defense line in one fell swoop, and drive us out of northern Gaul.”

“And after receiving reinforcements from His Majesty the Emperor, our troop strength and equipment have also reached an unprecedented level.”

“The opinion of the General Staff and the Army Group Headquarters is consistent—we also want to launch a decisive offensive to completely defeat this expeditionary force opposite us and push them into the sea!”

“Then what is our plan?” Morin asked.

Mackensen sneered, the baton in his hand tapping heavily on a red line on the map.

“They want to attack? Then let them attack.”

A sly and cruel light flashed in the old general’s eyes, the look of a hunter watching prey step into a trap.

“The trench defense line we have managed for so many days is a huge meat grinder. I want the blood of Britannians to soak this land thoroughly!”

“When their sharpness is exhausted, their troops suffer heavy losses, and they fall into fatigue and chaos—”

His baton poked forward fiercely, pointing straight at the depth of the Britannian defense line.

“That’s when your instruction unit comes on stage!”

“I need you to take the elite infantry of the instruction unit and insert into here like a red-hot knife for me!”

Mackensen’s voice rose sharply, full of absolute authority.

“Understood, General!” Morin answered loudly, “The instruction unit guarantees to complete the mission!”

Mackensen nodded with satisfaction and sat back in the chair aside.

At this time, General Seeckt also spoke: “However, according to the speculation of the intelligence department, the Britannians’ large-scale offensive still needs some time to prepare… So before this, you have another temporary task.”

He looked at Morin and said gently: “You need to help other units of the First Army Group train another batch of assault troops.”

“Train assault troops?” Morin was slightly stunned, then understood.

General Seeckt nodded and explained: “Yes… previously, after the first batch of officers trained by you returned to the front line, they formed some small-scale assault platoons or assault companies in their respective units according to the methods you taught.”

“In some recent small-scale probing attacks, the performance of these assault troops was very eye-catching and indeed achieved good results.”

He paused, then changed the subject: “But the problem is also obvious… these small-scale assault detachments are like a fist that can’t be clenched tight; the power is too dispersed.”

“They lack experience in coordinating with other units, especially artillery and Armored Knights. Often after achieving an initial breakthrough, they are forced to retreat due to lack of follow-up support, unable to truly expand the results.”

“So the Army Group Headquarters hopes that your instruction unit can come forward to conduct a centralized short-term intensive training for the backbone officers and non-commissioned officers drawn from various divisions.”

General Seeckt’s gaze was full of expectation: “We need more units capable of fighting tough battles and gnawing on hard bones.”

Regarding this order, Morin naturally agreed readily.

Because this was originally one of the responsibilities of the instruction unit.

“Please rest assured, General, we will definitely teach them the most practical things.”

“Very good.” General Seeckt glanced at his watch, “I have already arranged it. This afternoon, the first batch of officers and non-commissioned officers participating in the training will report to your camp… The specific training plan is fully responsible by your instruction unit.”

After the three discussed a few more details, Morin stood up to take his leave.

After he left, General Seeckt picked up General Mackensen’s portion of malted milk extract and said with a smile: “August, are you not drinking this stuff? Then don’t waste it, I’ll take it to distribute to the staff officers—”

“Put it down, who said I won’t drink it!”

“Hahahaha, I knew it, how could you not drink what Friedrich gave!”

“…”

“…”

After leaving the headquarters, Morin really found the adjutants of General Mackensen and General Seeckt, enthusiastically stuffed two packs of high-grade cigarettes to each person.

Then he solemnly asked them to supervise the two generals to take nutritional supplements on time and take good care of their health.

The two adjutants obviously appreciated this “operation” of the young Lieutenant Colonel very much, agreeing repeatedly and stating they would definitely arrange it properly.

Returning to the camp, Morin immediately summoned Kleist and a group of headquarters officers to hold an emergency meeting in the temporarily built command tent.

When Morin conveyed the order of the Army Group Headquarters exactly as it was, the officers in the tent all showed excited expressions.

“Great! I knew the generals would definitely entrust the most important task to us!”

Kleist excitedly slapped the table. He felt incredibly proud that his unit was entrusted with a heavy responsibility.

Others, including Manstein and Paulus, also looked excited.

For these Saxon officers, nothing was more important than being assigned a key task by superiors.

Morin cleared his throat, pulling everyone’s attention back to the training task at hand.

And told everyone that unlike the relatively complete training content in the rear, the front-line training didn’t have that much time, so only some key points could be singled out for teaching.

After arranging the tasks, the command tent immediately turned into a temporary lesson plan writing room.

Officers gathered around the map, quickly discussing the details of each short-term training subject.

Morin looked at their busy figures, knowing he was no longer needed here.

So he decided to personally go to the forward positions to take a look and prepare in advance for the subsequent battle.

Talking about war on paper is always shallow; only by seeing the situation here with his own eyes could he make the most accurate judgment.

“Kleist, I leave this place to you.” Morin said to his regimental adjutant, “I’m going to the front to look around and familiarize myself with the terrain.”

Kleist knew very well he couldn’t dissuade Morin. After all, in the instruction unit, “if God is the boss, Morin is the second boss,” so he directly gave up the plan to dissuade, only asking Morin to bring his guard.

“Stay safe, sir.”

Morin nodded, put on his helmet and took his binoculars, then walked with the four “Plate Armor Supermen” towards the communication trench that divided the earth like a huge scar.