Chapter 184: Able to Defeat the Enemy, But Unable to Defeat Our Own
In Berlin, on Wilhelm Street, this street had become a government district office concentration zone after decades of development. The German General Staff was located in an office building in the middle section of the street.
The Chief of the German General Staff, Falkenhayn, paced in front of the window with his hands behind his back. Outside, a light drizzle was falling. A group of soldiers carrying rifles and singing military songs was heading to the front lines amidst the cheers of the crowd.
They were clearly newly conscripted soldiers, their faces still youthful, eyes gleaming with a fiery light, and filled with a naive longing for war.
Did these soldiers know what they were about to face? Falkenhayn silently asked himself.
No, they didn’t. If they did, their faces would be full of fear!
But now it seemed there was no other way. The Western Front needed more manpower. More! It was still far from enough!
"General!" Colonel Moritz, a staff officer, stepped forward and reported, "General von Kluck has sent a message. He wants to know if it’s true that we are developing tanks!"
"Developing tanks?" Falkenhayn was puzzled. "Where did he hear that?"
"I’m not sure, General!" Moritz hesitated, then responded, "Perhaps a department let it slip…"
Suddenly, Moritz realized the situation and straightened up. "I’ll go investigate immediately!"
"No, Moritz!" Falkenhayn stopped the staff officer, who thought himself clever. His voice carried a trace of helplessness. "We don’t have any tank program. That’s just something the soldiers on the front imagined. They were scared by the enemy’s tanks, so they wish we could have tanks too."
Falkenhayn slowly returned to his desk, his movements stiff, like an elderly man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He rubbed his aching forehead in frustration.
He had been in his position for only a little over a month, but the events on the front had made him feel like the German army was on the brink of collapse and headed toward failure:
The destruction of three "Big Berthas" at Antwerp was nothing compared to the fact that a Zeppelin had been shot down there.
The Zeppelin had been produced at the cost of building a battlecruiser, yet it was effortlessly shot down by a plane carrying a few Congreve rockets, whose total weight was less than 1% of the Zeppelin’s size.
Not long ago, Falkenhayn had placed great hope in the Zeppelins, even having plans to use them to bomb London.
But all of that was shattered with a single explosion and a burst of dazzling flames.
Next came the Battle of Ypres, where the French introduced aircraft equipped with machine guns. The skies were filled with French planes, and the German planes stood no chance.
Then came the Battle of Lafox, where the "Mark I" tank made its debut. It easily broke through the German defenses, surrounded an elite unit along with eight artillery battalions, forcing them to surrender.
At that moment, Falkenhayn felt as if the sky was falling down on him. "My God, we were still dreaming of capturing Paris, not realizing that the French could easily destroy us, as if squashing an ant!"
Of course, he didn’t voice these thoughts. As the Chief of the General Staff, he had to bury his fear deep inside.
Falkenhayn wasn’t a coward, but he was still shocked by the French’s constant introduction of new equipment, which effortlessly gave them complete superiority in both the air and on the ground.
How should this war be fought?
"Tanks?" Falkenhayn shook his head. "No, by the time we develop tanks, it will be too late. We need something to stop the French right now. Something that can be deployed immediately!"
Moritz nodded. He knew exactly what Falkenhayn meant. The 13mm T-type anti-tank rifle, which had already been produced, could penetrate 25mm vertical steel plates at a range of 200 meters. This should be able to stop the tanks.
However, one piece of intelligence changed Falkenhayn’s thinking.
A staff officer handed him a telegram. "General, according to the intelligence, it seems that the French 'Mark I' tanks have a design flaw. They need to replace their tracks every thirty kilometers!"
"Is this true?" Falkenhayn looked at the staff officer in shock, his hands trembling as he took the telegram.
"It should be true!" the officer replied. "It has been confirmed by a French political party."
Falkenhayn read the telegram several times, his face lighting up with joy.
For the past few days, he had been puzzled as to why the French, who clearly had the ability to break through the German defenses, hadn’t done anything.
He had thought the French were preparing more tanks, planning to launch a lightning strike that would cause the German front to collapse.
Now it seemed it was because of problems with the tanks themselves.
After a moment of thought, Falkenhayn found the reasoning more and more plausible. If the tanks needed repairs every thirty kilometers, then after breaking through the German defenses, the French wouldn’t dare to advance further into enemy territory.
Otherwise, they would be left isolated, waiting to be surrounded by the Germans.
Falkenhayn let out a long sigh, feeling as if a sword hanging over his head had suddenly disappeared. The situation no longer felt as urgent as before.
After a brief hesitation, Falkenhayn turned to Moritz and ordered, "Contact the 7th Transportation Department!"
"Yes, General!" Moritz replied.
The 7th Transportation Department, formally known as the "Seventh United Front Transportation Division," was responsible for managing and developing military vehicles.
...
The next morning, Gallieni woke up promptly at eight o'clock.
His staff officers typically prepared ahead of time, arriving ten minutes before him to ensure that he wouldn’t waste any time. This way, they could brief him on the situation as soon as he arrived at work.
As soon as Gallieni sat down, Charles handed him the prepared documents. "These need your signature, General!"
Gallieni murmured an acknowledgment as he quickly signed the documents, saying, "I’ve received word that Schneider and the Francis Tractor Factory have submitted a 'wartime procurement regulation' application to the government. It’s still the 'Saint-Chaumont' and 'CA-1', but improved versions. Your 'Mark I', as usual, isn't participating, right?"
"Yes, General!" Charles replied decisively.
Gallieni looked up at Charles. "Or, do you have a new tank?"
"Yes!" Charles did not shy away.
"A new tank that still doesn’t plan to participate?" Gallieni asked again.
"No!" Charles said with a hint of helplessness. "The new tank still has the same issues as the previous one!"
A trace of disappointment flashed across Gallieni’s eyes, but he nodded and said no more.
Gallieni had always hoped that Charles could defeat his opponents in the "wartime procurement regulation" bidding, which would reduce unnecessary casualties and failures on the battlefield.
But ironically, Charles’ tank had won victories on the battlefield and gained public recognition, yet he would still fail in the military bidding.
And his chances of winning were becoming slimmer.
Last time, the right wing and Schneider were competitors, and the "CA-1" and "Saint-Chaumont" were enemies.
Now, they had become allies. They controlled the majority of seats in Parliament, had the support of Gallieni and the Automobile Technical Service, and were backed by the right-wing factions...
Gallieni sighed softly:
Charles’ tank could easily defeat the enemy and scare the Germans into frantically reinforcing the front lines, constructing fortifications day and night. But it couldn’t defeat his own people, and there was no hope of that!