Chapter 378: Night Battle
When Charles received the telegram, he was momentarily stunned, then quickly understood—this was Christian's call for help.
Charles could easily imagine Christian's predicament: he was trapped between the ambitions of businessmen (Schneider) and politicians (Joffre), both of whom hoped Christian could lead the Saint-Chamond tanks to a spectacular victory to benefit their interests. However, the Saint-Chamond tanks were poorly suited for battle, especially the Saint-Chamond M21, which was ineffective in almost every way and constantly lagging behind.
Thus, Christian and the First Special Artillery Division found themselves in a nearly impossible situation, squeezed between German forces and Joffre's demands. It was as if they would have to be annihilated just to prove Joffre wrong. But by then, proving Joffre wrong would hardly matter.
In the past, Charles would have offered help without hesitation; after all, it was a whole division—twenty thousand lives at stake. But now, he hesitated. He was growing accustomed to weighing his actions from a perspective of strategic advantage.
From the standpoint of reputation and equipment sales, it made more sense not to help. The more severely the First Special Artillery Division suffered, the more Charles's own leadership and the superiority of his equipment would stand out, which would improve the sales of the Charles A1 and deal a blow to both Schneider and Joffre.
But considering the broader influence on the military, it was better to intervene. Christian was a combat hero, and the soldiers of the First Special Artillery Division were elite troops. They held substantial influence within the ranks. If Charles set aside his conflict with Joffre to save them, he would undoubtedly earn the respect and support of countless soldiers on the ground.
After weighing both sides, Charles concluded that the latter was more valuable. Although the military in France was under the thumb of politics and big business, it was still an armed force—one that might just save your life when it mattered most.
Resolving his indecision, Charles sent a reply to Christian. It was only two words: "Night battle."
When Christian received the telegram, he was puzzled at first, then quickly realized it was Charles's answer to his plea for help.
"Night battle?" Christian muttered to himself. "What kind of strategy is that?"
The German tanks don't have night combat capabilities, and neither do ours, he thought. Surely, Charles knew this?
A wave of disappointment and bitterness washed over Christian. He felt humiliated and abandoned, as though someone was mocking him in his final moments.
But as he pondered it more closely, a glimmer of hope appeared on his face, and his frown began to ease.
If neither side's tanks are equipped for night combat, he thought, then it doesn't matter which is more advanced, or which has better firepower or a rotating turret. None of it would matter in the dark; neither side would be able to maneuver or fire effectively.
(Note: Tanks of this era had extremely limited awareness of their surroundings, and without night vision, they were almost useless in darkness. Night vision technology wouldn't be introduced until much later, and only tracer rounds could provide limited targeting assistance at night.)
Seeing the sky darkening, Christian came to a decision.
He ordered the troops to rest for the time being, then sought out Lieutenant Colonel Gaston, the head of the Second Artillery Regiment—a former subordinate and old friend. Recently, Gaston had been frustrated with the Saint-Chamond M21, and he and Christian had clashed more than once over it.
Gaston would frequently complain, "This thing barely qualifies as a tank! It has tracks and a machine gun, sure, but what else? A real tank should be like the Charles A1!"
All Christian could do was answer helplessly, "I know, Gaston, but this is what we've been given. Unless you can make one yourself, we have no other choice!"
When Christian found him, Gaston was organizing ground crew to repair the Saint-Chamond M21 tanks. Seeing Christian approach, Gaston gave a disgruntled nod towards the M21 tanks parked by the side of the street, wiping his oily hands with a cloth. "Look at them. They're slow, and half of them are always breaking down. I'm tempted to pull those four useless wheels off completely."
"If you want to, then go ahead," Christian replied evenly.
Gaston looked at him, sensing a strange tone in Christian's voice. "What's going on?"
Christian gave a slight shake of his head. "We're going to attack."
Gaston's expression darkened. "When?"
"In about an hour, just after dark."
Gaston gritted his teeth. "This is suicide, General. Our tanks can't fight at night!"
"I know," Christian answered calmly, glancing around to make sure no one else could hear. "But this isn't an order from the high command—it's Charles's idea. It might be our only chance."
Gaston was taken aback, staring at Christian in disbelief. "Are you mad, General? I admit, Charles is a military genius, but he's our rival. He stands to gain if we're all wiped out. He'll be the death of us!"
"Charles isn't that kind of person, Gaston," Christian replied firmly. "Think about it: our tanks can't fight at night. Do you really think the Germans' can?"
Gaston was speechless.
Christian continued, "The Germans know we're a tank unit, so they won't expect us to launch a night assault. This might just be our best shot."
"But even if that's true, I still…" Gaston trailed off, still wary about their tanks' night capabilities.
"Open the hatch," Christian interrupted.
"What?" Gaston looked at him, startled. "But that would make it easy for the enemy to throw grenades inside!"
Christian held his gaze, saying nothing.
Gaston understood his intent—between two dangers, they had to choose the lesser one. If they wanted to be effective at night, they had to take that risk.
Finally, Christian asked, "I'm choosing to trust Charles. What about you?"
After a moment's thought, Gaston nodded silently. If Charles truly wanted us dead, he wouldn't have sent any advice at all—he could've just waited for us to fall. And Joffre was never trustworthy in the first place.
Christian clapped Gaston on the shoulder. "Once we begin, don't stop. Move at full speed and destroy anything you see in front of you."
In the dark, distinguishing friend from foe would be impossible. But as long as the tanks kept moving at their top speed of 6 km/h, no friendly forces would be able to get ahead of them, eliminating that risk.
Ironically, this played to the Saint-Chamond M21's strength. Its slow speed matched the pace of the infantry, allowing for a degree of coordination between them.
After briefing the tank regiment, Christian visited the infantry units as well. He prepared his men, but the one thing he avoided was returning to the command center to inform Joffre.
Christian didn't want to give Joffre any opportunity to interfere—and he certainly didn't want to face Joffre's "leadership" at such a critical moment.
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