Chapter 423: Molotov Cocktails
As soon as the battle began, it became a one-sided massacre.
The German soldiers were holding shovels, not weapons. Their rifles were stacked in piles, barrels pointing upward beneath the torchlight. When gunfire erupted, the German soldiers instinctively dropped their shovels and scrambled toward their rifles, but bullets whistled through the air, cutting them down before they could reach their weapons.
The Germans couldn't even extinguish the torches because grenades were already being lobbed into their trenches, and, at the same time, the French 75mm artillery opened fire, shells exploding with deadly precision inside the trenches, instantly filling the air with a thick ribbon of smoke.
Nearby torches were blown away by the intense barrage, with only a few remaining, flickering in the night wind and illuminating the panicked German soldiers as they fled in disarray.
The French forces gave them no chance to escape. Soon, the artillery barrage shifted, sending waves of German soldiers flying into the air, only to crash back down in heavy thuds.
Only then did the tanks rumble out of the darkness, each one followed by a squad of French soldiers who advanced, firing their rifles, killing any surviving Germans one by one.
Compared to daytime battles, night combat was even more brutal, as Charles had issued an order to take no prisoners.
Tijani was taken aback by this command. He hesitated, saying, "I thought…you wouldn't do something like this."
To Tijani, Charles had always appeared as a noble and compassionate figure, even somewhat idealistic. "No prisoners" didn't seem like something Charles would say.
But Charles's tone was surprisingly resolute:
"We're a penetration force, General."
"More importantly, in the uncertainty of night combat, any hesitation could result in severe losses for our mechanized units."
"This is a matter of life or death. We have no other choice."
Tijani was silent for a moment.
He understood what Charles meant. With the low visibility of night, soldiers could only see vague silhouettes and couldn't distinguish whether the figure was aiming to shoot or raising their hands to surrender.
Any moment's hesitation could allow the enemy to infiltrate their ranks, which would be deadly.
"I agree," Tijani replied reluctantly.
Compared to the Germans' use of poison gas on the battlefield, refusing to take prisoners seemed almost mild by comparison. Tijani used this rationale to reassure himself.
…
The tanks rolled over the bodies of German soldiers, the air thick with the smell of blood and smoke.
In the flickering torchlight, scraps of torn fabric hanging from the tank treads were faintly visible, some of them still dripping with blood. Clumps of something—whether flesh or soil—dropped off as the tanks advanced.
Since the Germans hadn't managed to widen the trenches in time, the Charles A1 tanks crossed them effortlessly, pressing forward.
French soldiers quickly extinguished the torches one by one, as any remaining light would only expose the tanks to enemy artillery fire.
Darkness reclaimed the landscape, broken only by the occasional burst of artillery fire ahead, flashing like lightning before a storm.
The German bunkers remained silent.
They couldn't fire. Previously, the torchlight had allowed them to faintly see the approaching French tanks, but German soldiers fleeing in large groups crowded in front of the tanks, which were practically crushing them as they advanced.
If the bunkers fired now, they would end up hitting their own men, even if their shots were accurate.
That brief hesitation was all it took. The few remaining torches were swiftly extinguished, leaving the bunker gunners staring into endless darkness through their observation slits.
…
After Major General Marcus fell on the front line, his aide, Rolf, took over command of the defenses.
As soon as the battle started, Rolf knew they couldn't hold the first line and promptly abandoned it, retreating with his men to the second line of defense.
This line was the last barrier before the outer bunkers. Only 100 meters behind it lay the defensive perimeter of the bunkers. If this line were breached, the outer bunkers would be rendered useless.
"Hold steady!" Rolf shouted over the roar of artillery. "The enemy tanks can't see us—they don't know where to shoot. We can stop them!"
Rolf believed the French had brought tanks onto the battlefield at night to shield their advancing soldiers from bullets, and also to intimidate the Germans into retreating in panic.
He reminded himself not to fall for it. The tanks had no real night combat capability; they were just paper tigers.
But then…
A small flash of light arced through the darkness, landing in the trench. After the faint sound of breaking glass, a fierce blaze erupted.
Two German soldiers were immediately engulfed in flames, flailing their arms, rolling and jumping as they screamed. Nearby comrades rushed to help extinguish the flames, only to be caught in the fire as well. One soldier was tightly embraced by a "human torch," falling into the inferno with him, shrieking as he struggled to break free.
"What is that?" Rolf gasped.
But this was only the beginning. Before the Germans could react, more arcs of fire came whirling into the trenches, igniting a series of fires.
The Germans screamed as they burned, turning the trench into a hellish crevice filled with death, agony, and despair.
Then the tank's machine guns and cannons opened up, precisely targeting the parapets and sandbags in the German trench. The Germans crouched behind them were gunned down in waves, their cries mingling with the crackling fire.
Only now did Rolf realize he had underestimated the situation. Charles had indeed found a way to give his tanks night combat capability. Even though this capability was limited, it was more than enough to decimate the German trench defenses.
…
This was the "ace" Charles had used to persuade Colonel Estigny.
Knowing the Charles A1 inside and out, Colonel Estigny continued to advise Charles against a night attack at headquarters.
"General, I still hope you'll reconsider night combat."
"The Charles A1 is a light tank, only five meters long, including its rear support."
"The German trenches are about two meters wide, so we'd need to be absolutely certain of the trench layout."
"If we're not, just maneuvering across this terrain would be dangerous enough for the tanks; they'd risk destruction without the enemy lifting a finger."
Charles understood Estigny's concerns.
To cross safely, the Charles A1 tanks had to approach the trench at a perfect 90-degree angle.
Even the slightest deviation could result in a tank getting stuck in the trench, potentially leading to the death or injury of the crew.
(Note: The Renault tank, for instance, is 1.75 meters wide, making it easy for it to fall into a two-meter-wide trench.)
This maneuver was feasible in daylight, but nearly impossible in the dark. The trenches weren't straight lines but rather irregular Z-shapes, interconnected by a maze of communication trenches.
"We can use infantry coordination to address this issue," Charles replied.
"No, General," Estigny shook his head. "The tank crew can't hear infantry shouting over the engine noise…"
"I didn't mean using shouts," Charles interrupted. "We can use Molotov cocktails."
"Molotov cocktails?" Estigny looked stunned. "What's a Molotov cocktail?"
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