Chapter 381: This Is Just the Beginning
General Winter called Charles, sounding perplexed. "What's going on? Are you teaching them how to fight now?"
Charles realized that British Intelligence had already infiltrated the French Army, as the news of his assistance to the First Special Artillery Division had reached General Winter so quickly.
"Yes," Charles replied, offering a straightforward explanation. "They are, after all, the French Army, General."
Winter chuckled and offered a piece of advice: "This is none of my business, Brigadier, but you should know that this doesn't exactly work to your advantage."
Indeed, it wasn't Winter's concern; he had wanted a "decisive victory" from the beginning, regardless of whether Joffre or Charles was the one to achieve it. But to Winter, Charles still seemed naive, unaware that the world operates on interests alone. Things like compassion, kindness, and ethics, he believed, were used merely to deceive the lower ranks.
Charles replied, "No, this serves my interests as well."
It was a bit of a test for Winter.
"What?" Winter sounded genuinely puzzled.
Charles was confident it wasn't an act, meaning Winter hadn't yet learned that Christian had sworn allegiance to him. It was crucial to keep that quiet—at least for now.
He shifted the conversation, giving Winter another reason. "Did you really think this battle was over? No, General, this is only the beginning!"
Indeed, it was only the beginning. Christian, who was reinforcing defensive lines at Cambrai, knew this all too well.
The previous night's victory had been possible thanks to a surprise night assault, catching the Germans off guard. The First Special Artillery Division was still in a dire position:
German artillery still held the advantage.Roughly 50 German tanks had retreated, and even without reinforcements, they could easily overwhelm the division's 118 Saint-Chamond M21 tanks.Though they had captured 83 German tanks, the French forces couldn't use them effectively.
The German tanks required five crew members each. The French soldiers would need time to learn the systems and train to operate the tanks with any level of coordination.
Worse still, the German tanks were equipped with 57mm rapid-fire guns. The French had no suitable ammunition for them, and the supply of captured shells was limited. They also lacked K bullets for the Maxim machine guns.
After considering all these issues, Christian concluded that the only real asset he could rely on was the Cambrai defensive line. So, while assuring Joffre he was "preparing for an offensive," Christian focused on reinforcing the line: laying barbed wire, strengthening trenches, building tank emplacements, and positioning Saint-Chamond M21s on the second line of defense.
All this activity continued feverishly in the dark. Christian knew the Germans were likely planning their counterattack for dawn.
Sensing the looming threat, Colonel Gaston anxiously asked Christian, "Can we hold them off?"
Christian checked his watch. "One day, Gaston. We just need to hold out for one day."
"What?" Gaston looked confused. "What good is one day?"
Christian leaned in and whispered a few words. Gaston turned to him in shock.
Christian nodded with a small smile.
Gaston's face brightened. "I'm glad to hear it, General. We should have done this ages ago!"
Charles had given Christian a timeline of one day for his defense. The First Tank Brigade was on its way to Cambrai, needing a full day to reach the battlefront—though Gallieni had stepped in to speed up the process. Charles' units would have taken two days to assemble and engage, but since Christian was now under his command, Charles felt obligated to rush reinforcements to save them.
As dawn broke, a thick fog hung over Cambrai's defensive line, masking the harshness of war in a gentle blanket of white.
But the silence was an illusion.
Suddenly, the scream of incoming shells shattered the morning stillness. Several shells exploded along the defensive line, and one struck a trench, hurling French soldiers and debris high into the air.
The sound of artillery fire grew denser, eventually melding into one continuous roar as shell after shell slammed into the line, casting up sprays of mud and smoke. The relentless barrage swept over the Cambrai line repeatedly, like a plow tilling every inch of soil.
Blast after blast caused sections of the trenches to collapse, burying groups of French soldiers alive. The trenches were torn apart, the soil mixed with shattered bodies and blood-soaked debris.
Even the tanks hidden in their emplacements weren't spared. Some were directly hit and shattered, while others were buried under "waves" of dirt cast up by the explosions, disappearing beneath the earth.
The bombardment lasted over an hour. When it finally ceased, the Cambrai line was nothing but a series of cratered, overlapping scars on the landscape, and the battlefield looked like an alien world.
Charles' maxim, "no prolonged artillery preparation before a tank assault," clearly didn't apply to the Germans. The Germans held the upper hand in long-range artillery, enabling them to keep the French 105mm howitzers suppressed.
Christian practically crawled out of the debris, having narrowly survived when a shell struck near his command post, collapsing the sandbags and blocking the trench entrance. Guards had to dig their way out with shovels to escape.
After spitting out a mouthful of dirt, Christian climbed up to the edge of the trench, raising his binoculars to see German troops advancing like a dark storm front, with about sixty new-model tanks in the lead.
Christian cursed. This meant the Germans had received reinforcements and likely had even more tanks at their disposal.
German infantry followed close behind, bayonets affixed, clearly prepared for close-quarters combat. Teams of artillerymen pushed forward with 77mm field guns, ready to target French defenses.
This was a classic German tactic: using 105mm howitzers to suppress French 75mm guns, while 77mm guns were brought closer to take out enemy fortifications and machine-gun nests.
Were it not for Charles' mortars, the French would suffer catastrophic casualties against such an assault.
"Get ready!" Christian shouted.
Using signal flags, the communication officers relayed his order. French soldiers emerged from the rubble, setting up rifles and machine guns on the edge of the trenches. Grenades were unscrewed and placed within arm's reach, and mortar crews set up their positions on any level ground they could find.
Behind the lines, the surviving Saint-Chamond M21s rumbled out of their emplacements, aiming their guns and turrets at the advancing German forces.
A fierce battle was about to begin.
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