Chapter 470: The Commander-in-Chief Is Resting, You Cannot Wake Him
Verdun in September was rather chilly. The sun didn’t show itself all day, only grudgingly spilling a few weak rays through the fog at sunset, as if to offer a token gift to the soldiers entrenched at the border, locked in a tense standoff.
Suddenly, a voice pierced the tranquil air: "Hey, Krauts! How’s your day?"
It came from a young French soldier, who leaned against the trench wall and tilted his head back to shout across the divide so his voice could carry further.
This was one of the ways frontline soldiers alleviated their boredom. They often engaged the enemy in conversation, searching for a thrill in their monotonous and oppressive routine of tension and routine.
Typically, the Germans would reply in halting French:
"Quite well today. I got a letter from my wife; she even sent a photograph."
"But I also heard some bad news—my 18-year-old son has enlisted. If you see him, please go easy on him."
"By the way, I also received a flask of wine—it’s fantastic!"
...
But today, there was no response from the Germans. The other side was eerily silent, as though all the German soldiers had simply vanished.
The French soldier, left without a reply, felt a little disappointed and muttered angrily, "Damn bastards, always sleeping. When the battle starts, don’t blame me for storming your trench and cutting off your ears!"
His comrades burst into laughter.
At that moment, Colonel Adrian appeared at the trench’s edge, accompanied by his staff and several guards. The soldiers quickly stood and saluted.
Adrian nodded slightly and asked impassively, "Any new developments?"
"No, Colonel, nothing at all," Captain Léronche, who was in charge of the area, responded briskly.
A young soldier interjected, "The Krauts have been unusually quiet these past few days—maybe they’re afraid of us!"
Another countered, "You haven’t done anything, Léon. If Charles were here, they’d have a reason to be scared!"
The soldiers chuckled again.
Adrian remained silent. He took out his binoculars and carefully climbed up to the observation platform at the edge of the trench to peer out cautiously.
The trench fell silent. Soldiers held their breath and watched Adrian, some gripping their rifles, ready to provide cover if needed.
With their battle-hardened instincts, they knew observing enemy positions at sunset was particularly dangerous.
Fortunately, there were no gunshots. After a few minutes, Adrian withdrew.
Sitting on the platform, Adrian stared blankly for a while, as if replaying what he had just seen. Then, in a grave tone, he ordered the soldiers, "Stay alert and keep an eye on the enemy’s movements."
"Yes, Colonel."
As Adrian entered the communication trench, he quietly said to Charles, "Something’s off. The Germans might make a move."
Charles paled and nodded. "I sense something’s wrong too, Colonel..."
"No, it’s not just a feeling," Adrian replied. "Some of their artillery pieces are no longer camouflaged!"
Charles’s eyes widened. "You mean tonight—"
Adrian nodded slightly. "Most likely tonight."
After a few more steps, Adrian issued another command: "Send a telegraph to headquarters immediately. Report the situation here."
"Yes, Colonel," Charles replied instinctively, then added, "But as always, we can’t hold out much hope."
Adrian nodded in acknowledgment.
Over a month ago, Adrian had bypassed proper channels to report directly to the government, which provoked Joffre’s ire. The commander-in-chief even issued a telegram to the entire army:
"Officers must address issues through the correct channels. Any soldier under my command who bypasses proper procedures to voice complaints or protests against my orders is deliberately undermining military discipline and unity!"
Although Joffre didn’t name names, everyone knew he was referring to Adrian.
Many speculated that Adrian hadn’t been dismissed or punished because of his other role as a Member of Parliament.
After some thought, Adrian added, "We should also send a few more couriers. Maybe that will get the high command’s attention. Remind the commander-in-chief that this is no time for personal grudges!"
Charles nodded. "I’ll arrange it immediately."
Before long, a motorcycle with a sidecar sped out of the fortress. It carried three soldiers: a driver, a guard, and Jules, the regiment’s most eloquent major.
Charles hoped that Major Jules could at least secure something for Verdun.
...
At the Raugaden Command Post, Joffre’s gaze was fixed on Belfort on the map.
A few days earlier, he had received a warning from the British that the Germans’ real target might be Belfort, with their movements in Verdun possibly being a feint.
"I knew it!" Joffre exclaimed triumphantly when he received the intelligence. "No one would choose Verdun as a breakthrough point unless they were blind or foolish!"
The next moment, he ordered the 7th Army’s main forces, including the heavy artillery removed from Verdun, to be deployed to Belfort.
"We should also send the 1st Artillery Division there," Joffre told Carnes, pointing to Belfort.
"To reinforce Belfort’s defenses?" Carnes asked, puzzled. "But tanks are designed for offense."
"Exactly," Joffre replied. "Defense is just the façade, Carnes. Once the enemy’s offensive momentum falters, the tank units will counterattack and catch the Germans off guard!"
Joffre remained fixated on his "encirclement plan."
Just then, a telegraph was delivered. "General, Colonel Adrian reports that the Germans are about to launch an attack, possibly tonight."
Joffre scoffed, his lips curling into a disdainful smile. "He knows nothing."
The telegraph operator added, "But he mentioned a large German assembly at Verdun, with their artillery positioned to fire."
"It’s just a show," Joffre declared. "He sees only part of the picture and thinks it’s the whole thing!"
Joffre, exasperated, looked up at the operator and said, "Tell him to do his job."
"Yes, General!"
...
At 9:30 PM, Major Jules’s motorcycle arrived at Raugaden.
Jules first sought out a telephone, hoping to inform Colonel Adrian that they had arrived.
As soon as the line connected, a cacophony of gunfire and Adrian’s urgent voice came through the receiver:
"They’ve started shelling—unprecedentedly fierce! At least a thousand heavy guns are firing on us!"
"Our radio is down. Report this immediately to—"
The line went dead. No matter how much Jules shouted, there was no response. He assumed the phone lines had been severed by the bombardment, leaving the frontline cut off from the rear.
Hanging up, Jules rushed toward Joffre’s headquarters, eventually breaking into a run.
In times of urgent military crises, every second could mean the lives of frontline soldiers and the outcome of the battle.
Yet, as he reached the headquarters, guards blocked him.
"I need to see the commander-in-chief immediately!" Jules shouted, breathless with urgency.
"Apologies, Major," the guard replied coldly. "The commander-in-chief is already resting. You cannot wake him!"
Jules froze in disbelief, realizing too late that he had forgotten about Joffre’s unwavering habit of sleeping on schedule.