Chapter 421: Knowing Too Much
Under the star-studded night sky, the German troops in Antwerp continued to work tirelessly. Fearing infiltration by partisans, the Germans didn't even dare to "hire" Belgians to help build fortifications. Instead, they assembled all personnel deemed trustworthy, including logistics staff, communications soldiers, and even officers, to construct the defenses.
Layer upon layer of bunkers and trenches encircled the core of the city—Antwerp itself.
Inside the city, in a villa once belonging to King Albert I, lights shone brightly. Staff officers were bustling back and forth, attempting to gather more information through phones and telegraphs.
Telegrams came one after another to the desk of Major General von Marcus, commander of the German forces in the area, but his frown only deepened as he read them.
Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer. Rising with a sharp movement, he slammed the telegram down onto the table and barked angrily, "I just want to know the location of the French forces. Can anyone tell me where their main forces are? I need a specific location—a precise one!"
No one answered; no one knew. The staff officers avoided Marcus's gaze, each one lowering their heads like guilty children.
All of the German intelligence units were stationed on the front lines or even within France, yet none were set up in Belgium, particularly around Brussels, which they had assumed was a safe rear zone.
Thus, once the phone lines to Brussels were cut, it became a true "unknown zone"—no one knew what was happening there.
One staff officer stepped forward cautiously with a report. "General, we believe the French forces won't attack tonight. At the earliest, it would be around dawn tomorrow."
"How can you be sure?" Marcus demanded.
The staff officer handed him a document along with a telegram report. "We've established contact with Major General Nicholas, the commander of the First Tank Division."
Marcus skimmed the document, which contained Nicholas's analysis on the limitations of tank warfare. Nicholas's conclusion was clear: tanks were unsuitable for nighttime combat. They couldn't see anything in the dark, effectively rendering them blind.
Marcus grunted, his expression softening a bit. Finally, the staff seemed to be proving useful.
The staff officer continued to report, "Additionally, we received a suggestion from Captain Erwin, who has considerable expertise in tank defense tactics. He recommended digging wider trenches to effectively block tank passage."
The officer handed over a diagram illustrating the principle of how tanks would get stuck in wide trenches.
Marcus only glanced briefly before understanding and immediately ordered, "Then what are we waiting for? Order the troops to dig the trenches wider right away."
The staff officer hesitated. "But, General, we have numerous trenches and a severe manpower shortage. Even working until dawn, we may only complete half of them."
Marcus paced behind his desk, hands clasped behind his back. "When will the 192nd Infantry Regiment arrive?"
"They're expected in about two hours, and the 87th Reserve Division should reach us before dawn," the officer replied.
It was clear these reinforcements wouldn't solve the problem of fortification construction.
Suddenly, Marcus stopped in his tracks. Turning back to the map, he scrutinized the layout of the defenses around Antwerp. After a moment, he said slowly, "Perhaps we don't need to widen all the trenches."
The staff officer looked at Marcus in confusion; after all, only wider trenches could stop the tanks…
"We just need to modify one trench," Marcus said, pointing to the foremost part of the defense line. "Widen the first trench to four meters, ensuring that enemy tanks can't get through."
The staff officer responded with an "Oh" as he grasped Marcus's intention.
If the first trench could stop the enemy tanks, there would be no need to widen the others.
Additionally, artillery from the fortresses could target these trenches precisely, delivering devastating strikes as soon as enemy tanks were halted in front of them.
"I'll issue the orders right away," the officer said.
"No," Marcus said, grabbing his cap from the wall and placing it on his head. Grasping a riding crop from the table, he walked toward the door while instructing, "I'll supervise the trench work myself. Bring over all available manpower."
He seemed pleased with his sudden inspiration, even thinking it might be the key to repelling the French attack the following day, no matter if it was Charles's forces coming for them.
…
The front line near Antwerp's first line of defense lay about 500 meters in front of the fortress perimeter. Inside Antwerp's dual-layered defense line, the fortresses were armed with long-, medium-, and short-range artillery, with the 77mm field guns as the close-range artillery—each fortress had four of them.
The theoretical range of the 77mm field gun was 5 kilometers, but in practice, it was often used for direct fire at around 500 meters. (Note: This is due to the pressure exerted by the French 75mm gun, which has superior accuracy, speed, and range. If the German 77mm guns don't close in and aim for a one-shot kill, they'll be crushed by the French 75mm.)
The first line of defense was established specifically to coordinate with the 77mm field guns in the fortresses.
Marcus was very satisfied with the positioning; he believed that once enemy tanks were blocked by this trench, they would become prime targets for the fortress's 77mm artillery.
"This is the spot!" Major General Marcus called out confidently to the people following him. "Widen this section of the line to four meters and deepen it to two meters. It must be completed before dawn."
"Yes, General."
One by one, the soldiers jumped into the trenches, working hard with their shovels.
Soon, someone called out, "General, can we light torches?"
"Good idea; after all, the enemy isn't here yet."
"Lighting torches will make us much more efficient!"
Marcus glanced southward into the darkness toward Brussels, then nodded, "No problem. As long as you finish before dawn, everyone will get an extra pack of cigarettes tomorrow!"
The soldiers cheered in response.
Before long, torches were lit one after another. The Germans even used long poles to hold the torches high, allowing the flames to illuminate a larger area.
Under the torchlight, the German soldiers dug energetically, moving earth, measuring, directing—working diligently in the trench.
…
At this moment, Charles and Tijani were lying in the grass barely two miles away, watching the surreal scene of the Germans' efforts.
"What are they doing?" Tijani put down his binoculars, puzzled. "They're blatantly exposing their defensive line right in front of us."
The French previously had no way of knowing the enemy trench positions, but now they were all laid out clearly.
Charles chuckled and replied, "It's because they know too much."
"Know too much?" Tijani looked baffled. What did knowing too much have to do with exposing the trench positions?
Charles nodded. "They know that tanks aren't suited for night battles."
Tijani paused for a moment, then realized: because the Germans knew tanks were unsuitable for night combat, they assumed the French wouldn't attack at night, so they felt safe lighting torches to build their defenses.
Tijani laughed. "They're probably thinking that they'll have plenty of time to extinguish the torches once they hear the enemy tanks' engines!"
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