Chapter 425
France erupted in celebration over Charles's stunning victory. Crowds took to the streets, and every bar, club, and restaurant overflowed with people. Even those who couldn't get inside simply gathered at the doors, swept up in the excitement.
Everywhere, people were discussing this extraordinary, exhilarating day:
"This is the best National Day ever! Charles finished the battle on this very day!""Unbelievable! Everyone, even military experts, thought this battle would take at least six months, but Charles did it in a single day. One day!""I wasn't even prepared for this; it ended before I could process it.""We thought winning in two weeks or a month was 'idealizing' Charles, but he's proven to be more incredible than we imagined!"
It wasn't just France that went wild; the entire world was in awe of Charles's astounding victory.
At that moment, Italian Chief of Staff Cadorna was directing operations from the front. A few days earlier, he'd ordered the 2nd and 3rd Italian Armies (around 200,000 men across 19 divisions) to attack the Austro-Hungarian positions on the eastern bank of the Isonzo River from three different directions, while the Italian Navy blockaded the sea routes to Trieste.
Cadorna's plan was straightforward: maintain constant artillery bombardments and relentless attacks until the enemy's supply lines broke down and they crumbled.
But he hadn't anticipated that his own supply lines would falter just as quickly. While Italian supplies hadn't been blockaded, the logistics required for continuous shelling and assaults far exceeded those on the enemy side. In a matter of days, Italy had depleted over a month's supply of artillery shells, with over 20,000 casualties but no significant progress to show for it.
(Note: The First Battle of the Isonzo lasted only 14 days, ending abruptly due to a severe shortage of artillery shells—an oversight in basic ammunition planning.)
As Cadorna brooded over the map in frustration, an aide hurried over, holding a telegram and reporting excitedly, "General, Charles has liberated Brussels, the capital of Belgium, and taken Antwerp, a major fortress there. This completes the French encirclement of over 200,000 German soldiers!"
Others in the command room overheard and turned, faces filled with shock, before breaking into cheers, as if they'd won the victory themselves.
Ordinarily, this news should have shamed Cadorna. Charles had encircled over 200,000 enemies with a smaller force in only a day, while he had used a superior force against a weaker enemy and been driven to a standstill within days.
But Cadorna didn't feel any such shame, nor did his cheering aides. Italians were optimistic by nature and not inclined to dwell on anything that might cast them in an unfavorable light.
"Excellent," Cadorna said with a self-satisfied smile, nodding approvingly. "This proves that joining the Allies was the right decision. With Charles on our side, victory is only a matter of time!"
The command staff murmured their agreement.
"General," one level-headed aide cautioned amid the self-congratulations, "but our immediate issues remain unresolved. What should we do now?"
"Don't worry, Ricardo," Cadorna replied breezily. "The worst that can happen is we don't advance an inch, but as long as France wins, so do we! So, what's there to worry about?"
At that moment, Cadorna couldn't have imagined that the worst was far worse than simply "failing to advance."
…
In London, the First Lord of the Admiralty sat by the window of his villa, staring dejectedly at the bustling Thames below.
He had recently resigned as "First Lord of the Admiralty," stepping down from the center of power in disgrace and now only symbolically served as a member of the Dardanelles Commission.
This was due to the disappointing results of the Dardanelles campaign.
In truth, it was worse than merely "disappointing"—it was disastrous. Reports from the front were grim:
The air was filled with the stench of death, drinking water was so scarce it barely quenched the thirst, and Gallipoli's scorching sun offered no shade. Giant flies swarmed everywhere; opening a single tin of food was enough to invite an attack from them.
Worst of all, an epidemic was spreading among the troops, killing soldiers not through battle but disease.
Eventually, the First Lord, the campaign's most ardent supporter and the one who had guaranteed its success, became the scapegoat. Under immense pressure, he had no choice but to resign.
As he sat by the window in a daze, his butler knocked and entered with a telegram. "Sir, General Winter has sent a message. He says Charles achieved a decisive victory last night…"
The First Lord was startled, thinking he'd misheard. "I believe Charles only launched the offensive yesterday morning."
The butler, unsure, hesitantly handed over the telegram. "Shall I confirm it, sir?"
"Of course." The First Lord took the telegram and glanced at it.
As the butler left, he couldn't help but chuckle. How could this be? Just one day, and they'd already won? It was absurd. Was today April Fool's Day? Or was General Winter mocking him?
However, the butler soon returned. "It's confirmed, sir. In a single day, Charles advanced over 100 kilometers, and his forces have encircled over 200,000 German soldiers."
The First Lord was utterly astonished.
One hundred kilometers in a day?
Encircled over 200,000 German soldiers?
And it was true?
God above, Charles had accomplished something unprecedented, something that made history! How had he managed it?
A wave of envy swept over the First Lord as he thought of this genius young strategist—a true military prodigy.
Then his thoughts returned to the mess that was the Dardanelles campaign. If anyone could salvage it, it would certainly be Charles.
The First Lord wasn't concerned about the soldiers suffering on the front lines; he was thinking about his political future and the pledge he'd made to "take up arms himself and fight on the front lines if the Dardanelles campaign failed."
After a moment's hesitation, he hurried to the telegraph office and sent a message to General Winter: "Ask Charles if he would consider returning to the Dardanelles to take command."
It was a shameless request.
When the Dardanelles campaign first faltered, Charles's involvement had seemed to turn the tide, and many believed victory was near. At that time, the First Lord had spread the rumor that "the Germans would stop at nothing to kill Charles on the battlefield," which had pressured Charles to leave.
Now, as the Dardanelles once again teetered on the brink of collapse, he was asking Charles to return to rescue the campaign and save the First Lord's political career.
But "shamelessness" didn't seem to be a word in the First Lord's vocabulary.
Friends, if you enjoyed the novel, you can subscribe to my Patreon channel.
Until November 30st, get 25% off both your subscription and the purchase of your novel. Thank you for your support.
Read 30 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/Franklin1