Chapter 375: Tank Warfare
At that moment, a strange thought flickered through Christian's mind: asking Charles for help.
Charles would surely know how to solve this, he thought. There was no problem Charles couldn't handle. But the thought quickly vanished. Christian knew about the tense relationship between Joffre and Charles, and he was well aware that the Schneider tanks he commanded were meant to defeat Charles's own creations.
To turn to Charles now was unthinkable.
Time was critical. German forces were advancing towards Cambrai at a steady two kilometers per hour. Christian had little more than an hour to prepare. He directed his troops to unload the tanks from the trains and had them camouflaged among the town's buildings, hoping that Joffre's plan to ambush the Germans might catch them by surprise.
But once again, reality proved disappointing.
Meanwhile, in the First German Tank Division, Major General Nicholas traveled alongside his forces on a sidecar motorcycle. Observing the battlefield, he marveled at the vehicle's utility—small enough for off-road maneuvering yet more stable than a regular two-wheeled motorcycle. An efficient command vehicle, though lacking in space and armor.
A courier on another motorcycle caught up to him, shouting, "General, there's intel!"
Before he could give an order, Nicholas's driver slowed down, allowing the courier to hand over a telegram.
Nicholas glanced at the message: "The First Special Artillery Division is ambushing Cambrai!"
A slight smile crept across Nicholas's face. They had truly thought they could hide a tank battalion in Cambrai without being detected?
Even something as conspicuous as a tank could not escape the eyes of his informants. Nicholas even had a map detailing the French forces' deployment in Cambrai.
He paused to consider his options. Leading his tanks directly into Cambrai's narrow streets would be a poor decision. The town's tight quarters made it far too dangerous and nullified the tanks' advantages.
One of his staff officers suggested, "We could assemble artillery to bombard Cambrai, General. Then their tanks will have no choice but to come out and fight."
It was a solid plan: the French tanks would be obliterated if they stayed hidden in town. If they came out, they would face a direct assault from the German tank division.
But Nicholas rejected the idea.
"Gathering artillery will take too long, Deem," he replied coolly. "And a bombardment would take even longer to be effective."
The staff officer nodded. Targeting tanks hidden in a town would indeed require a substantial number of shells and extended shelling.
Nicholas thought for a moment. "We have a better way to draw them out!"
In Cambrai, Christian stood on the church's bell tower, binoculars in hand. From this high vantage point, he could see the battlefield several kilometers away.
Through his lenses, he watched scattered groups of retreating French soldiers. Some had tossed away their heavy backpacks and ammunition to run faster.
Christian shook his head in dismay; it had been a long time since he had seen French troops so disorganized.
Suddenly, a dust cloud appeared on the horizon, and then he saw German tanks emerge from it.
They looked exactly as the wounded soldiers had described: each one equipped with three turrets.
"Prepare for battle!" Christian commanded.
The signal corps relayed his orders through flag signals, and the tanks hidden in the town's streets started their engines, preparing to move out and engage the enemy.
But then he saw something unsettling. The German tanks slowed down, changing direction, moving toward Cambrai's flank.
Realizing what they were planning, Christian quickly consulted his map.
The tanks were headed towards the 97th Infantry Division's line. If they broke through, they could encircle Cambrai and cut off the rail and road links.
Christian's eyes widened. He understood the German strategy and knew now that any hope of surprising them was gone. The Germans were already aware of the First Special Artillery Division's presence.
Acting quickly, he ordered, "Everyone, move out!"
Tank after tank rolled out of Cambrai, advancing towards the German forces. The heavy Saint-Chamond tanks led the way, with the Saint-Chamond M21 models following behind.
The M21 had an awkward disadvantage. Though its road speed reached 28 kilometers per hour on wheels, that mobility was rarely usable. When using its tracks in battle mode, its speed dropped to just 6 kilometers per hour—slower than even the heavy Saint-Chamond, which could reach 10 kilometers per hour.
A light tank slower than a heavy one? And without a rotating turret?
Christian could hardly believe anyone would design such a vehicle, let alone deploy it to the battlefield. It felt like a death sentence.
Even more laughable was the notion that they could defeat the Germans with these machines.
As the French tanks assembled outside Cambrai, they formed a wedge formation facing the German line—a classic offensive setup.
But Christian quickly realized he had been tricked. The German tanks were already positioned to counter them, lined up and waiting.
The air filled with the thunderous roar of incoming shells. Explosions erupted near the Saint-Chamond tanks, dust and debris clouding the air. One shell landed barely meters away from a French tank.
Christian's heart pounded. This was merely the enemy artillery's test fire; soon, a full barrage would rain down, a fatal assault on the tanks.
"Advance!" Christian ordered, snapping his binoculars shut and hurrying down from the tower. He had to be with his men on the field.
On the open plains northeast of Cambrai, two tank formations now charged toward each other, leaving trails of thick smoke.
At first, their speed was slow, seemingly waiting for the infantry to catch up, but as the charge intensified, both sides forgot their supporting troops. They accelerated, leaving the infantry far behind.
Two steel juggernauts collided in an ear-splitting clash of iron.
Gunfire and cannon blasts erupted everywhere, bullets ricocheting off the armor with a cacophony of metallic clinks.
The Saint-Chamond tanks pressed forward, their 75mm cannons firing shell after shell at the enemy. They couldn't afford to stop and aim properly, as doing so would turn them into sitting targets.
Perhaps due to the dense concentration of German tanks, or maybe thanks to the rapid-fire 75mm guns, several German tanks exploded, engulfed in thick smoke and flames.
In the rear, however, the Saint-Chamond M21 tanks couldn't keep pace. At only 6 kilometers per hour, they barely outpaced the infantry and had been left behind by the heavier tanks.
Meanwhile, French infantry, bayonets affixed to their rifles, charged forward, shouting as they advanced.
But they were facing the German Upper Silesia tanks—a model inspired by the Charles A1 tanks.
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