Chapter 382: The Storm Assault Battalion
As soon as the battle began, it intensified rapidly.
Under cover from tanks and field artillery, German soldiers launched a frenzied assault on the French defensive line. Machine gunners advanced in waves, trying to get within shooting range. But the French troops, resigned to the possibility of death, fought with extraordinary tenacity.
Before the battle, Christian had gathered his officers for a quick meeting and asked, "Did you all see the German tanks we captured? In your opinion, which tanks are superior—ours or theirs?"
His men laughed, responding one after another:
"Obviously, the Germans' tanks, General."
"Ours are just toys compared to theirs."
"I don't even think we should call ours tanks—Schneider should stick to making cannons."
Christian nodded. "I completely agree. But have you considered what that means for us?"
The officers looked at each other, puzzled by Christian's question.
"Think about it," Christian said, gesturing toward the defensive line. "If our defenses fall and the Germans have those tanks, what do you think will happen?"
After a moment of silence, the realization dawned on them.
"We won't be able to retreat, General. The German tanks will be right on our heels."
"Yes. Just like those who've been defeated by the Germans before us, we won't be able to outrun their tanks. Either we'll be captured, or we'll die. Less than one-tenth of us will make it out alive."
"Even though we have tanks, they're no match for the Germans'—we wouldn't fare much better than infantry."
Christian nodded. "Exactly. So, gentlemen, there's no way out. We either hold the line, or we die. Understood?"
"Yes, General!"
Christian had skillfully used their disadvantage to bolster his troops' courage.
Knowing they had no escape route, the French soldiers fought with relentless bravery. When a rifleman fell at the trench, another soldier dragged away the body and took his place. If a machine gunner went down, someone else quickly stepped up to resume firing at the advancing Germans.
Christian himself took part in the fight, rallying his men with a hoarse voice as he fired his rifle at the enemy.
The Germans employed a familiar tactic: once their tanks breached the trenches and defensive lines, they would turn around to help their infantry capture French fortifications. But Christian's defense strategy was tailored precisely to counter this.
He had positioned the Saint-Chamond M21 tanks on a second defensive line, creating two-layered tank emplacements. The first layer was deep enough to keep the tanks below ground level, reducing their exposure to German artillery fire. The second layer was shallower, allowing tanks to move up and expose only their machine guns or 37mm cannons.
As a result, even with superior firepower, the German Oberschlesien tanks, which managed to break through the French lines, were still being picked off one by one by the French defenders.
The fierce battle lasted over an hour, with both sides sustaining heavy casualties. Though the Germans had the upper hand in numbers and firepower, victory seemed to be slipping in their favor.
Finally, German soldiers breached the French trenches, and brutal hand-to-hand combat ensued.
Just then, the sound of engines roared in the sky above. It was the French air force—at least fifty Caproni bombers, their dark forms blotting out the sky.
French and German soldiers alike paid little attention to the planes, continuing their struggle in the trenches with bayonets, shovels, and stones. They had grown accustomed to bombers targeting high-value assets like artillery, supply convoys, or storage depots.
But they were quickly proven wrong.
The bombers descended rapidly, almost skimming the soldiers' heads as they flew over the Cambrai defensive line. Then, row upon row of bombs fell from their wings and fuselages.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Hundreds of bombs carpeted the German side, erupting in a sea of fire and smoke. The entire rear of the German force, including their tanks, was engulfed in a massive inferno.
Everyone was stunned.
The German soldiers hadn't anticipated the devastating power of the bombers. In mere seconds, the blasts swallowed countless soldiers, completely altering the course of the battle.
The French troops, somewhat dazed, briefly wondered if these were Charles' bombers. Why would he go to such lengths to aid the First Special Artillery Division, a unit led by his rival? Even if ordered to bomb, he could have done the bare minimum.
But there was no time to dwell on it. With a resounding cheer, they launched a counterattack against the Germans.
Christian, blood-streaked but grateful, looked up at the departing bombers. Charles had saved him yet again.
Following Charles felt different—he always seemed to know exactly when help was needed and how to win a battle.
Meanwhile, the German First Tank Division commander, Major General Nikolaus, could no longer keep his composure.
"Where are our fighters?" he shouted furiously at his staff officer. "Why are we allowing enemy bombers to obliterate us? How are we supposed to take their positions like this?"
The staff officer replied, "General, our fighters are stationed at Hümessen Airport, awaiting orders."
Nikolaus then remembered it had been his own order to keep the fighters "low profile" to avoid exposing the new aircraft too soon.
Nikolaus now saw the dilemma Charles had maneuvered him into:
If he continued to hold back and didn't deploy the new fighters, French bombers would keep raining destruction, inevitably leading to defeat.
But if he sent up the new fighters, they would be vulnerable to a potential ambush from Charles' own new aircraft.
To deploy or not?
To make matters worse, Charles' reinforcements were reportedly en route. They had to defeat the First Special Artillery Division before those reinforcements arrived.
After a moment of intense deliberation, Nikolaus gritted his teeth and gave the order, "Deploy the First Storm Assault Battalion."
"But sir," the staff officer hesitated, "they've only just been formed…"
Nikolaus shot the officer a cold glare, and the officer swallowed his remaining words, answering, "Yes, sir."
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