Chapter 546: "The Final Frenzy"
Foch, Petain, the Parliament, the British, and everyone else, including Charles, overlooked one thing.
"The final frenzy" would not only happen to the surrounded Germans, but it would also occur to their own men.
People only knew that Nivelle was unworthy of his position, but they hadn't considered things from his perspective: if this situation continued, his future would be ruined, and he would probably never have a chance again. On the other hand, throwing everything into one final gamble might give him a slim chance of survival.
Thus, Nivelle, disregarding everything, ordered a military build-up on the southern bank of the Somme River. In just a few days, he gathered more than thirty divisions, around three hundred thousand men, including the First Special Artillery Division of Christian, which was originally scheduled to be transferred to Verdun.
The First Special Artillery Division was fully equipped with "Char A1" tanks. Nivelle thought that since they had been studying Charles' tactics during this time and were about to apply them in battle, they should be able to perform just as well as Charles' troops.
What Nivelle didn't know was that he had limited the First Special Artillery Division's attack to the difficult-to-assault defenses along the Somme River. The tactics Christian had learned had little room to be applied effectively.
Nivelle remained concerned that the preparations might not be sufficient.
As the Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces, he demanded that the Russian and Italian armies launch counterattacks and arranged with the British to cooperate in the counteroffensive along the Somme River.
All of this was done secretly under the pretext of "military secrets."
It seemed like Foch’s attack plan, which had been blocked by Charles earlier, was now being implemented by Nivelle.
The only difference was that Foch's plan included Romania declaring war.
But this was not something Nivelle could decide on his own; it had to be a joint decision made by the French and British governments through diplomatic channels with Romania. Nivelle, as the Supreme Commander, could not bypass the Parliament to secretly make this move.
...
In the early morning, the Somme River defense line was drenched in a steady drizzle.
The air was thick with the foul smell of burning corpses, and the soldiers hiding in the trenches seemed to have become accustomed to it. They didn’t even bother to use a piece of cloth to cover their mouths and noses.
Some soldiers crouched on their step-ups, but the murky, foul-smelling water still reached their ankles.
Those standing in the trenches had no choice but to endure the cold, biting sensation of their legs submerged in water the entire night.
They stood shivering in the damp rain, holding a small piece of bread or a can of spoiled food, their trembling hands trying hard not to drop or wet it in the rain.
One soldier couldn’t help but complain, "It’s still early December, and the weather isn’t too cold. But what if it gets even colder or even snows?"
Another soldier chuckled lightly, "Our Dujar is optimistic. He says we’ll still be alive when it snows."
A burst of laughter rang out, though it was tinged with bitterness.
There were quite a few new recruits in the unit, and they were frightened by the veterans' nonchalance toward death.
Dujar was one of them. His face was pale, and whether from the cold or fear, his whole body was uncontrollably shaking. "Aren’t we going to do something?"
A veteran responded expressionlessly, "What can we do? Calm down, Dujar! Unless Charles comes to lead us, we’re not going to survive for long."
"For France, for victory, right? It’s just that we can’t see it."
"Look at the bodies lying in no-man’s-land. That’s our fate. It’s the reality we must face!"
...
Dujar wanted to say more, but suddenly, three red signal flares shot up into the sky before his terrified eyes.
The sound of artillery followed immediately, and thousands of cannons roared at once. Shells rained down on the German positions, turning half the sky red.
But unlike the continuous bombardment from the past week, this time, the artillery preparation lasted only half an hour.
To be precise, it wasn’t a half-hour preparation, but as the shells continued to rain down on the enemy's defenses, the charge whistle, like a death knell, suddenly blew.
French soldiers crawled out of the trenches like ants, shouting as they charged toward the enemy positions.
...
Christian’s First Special Artillery Division was part of the attacking force, with his units placed on both flanks of the assaulting troops.
He had protested against this, saying, "Tanks should be in front of the infantry to provide cover, not placed on the flanks like cavalry."
This was a lesson Christian had learned during his training period. Tanks and infantry should cover each other to maximize their combat effectiveness.
However, Nivelle’s response was, "The infantry doesn’t need cover, General. Artillery fire is enough for them."
"Artillery cover?" Christian countered, "We know what will happen. As soon as our artillery stops, the Germans will bring up their machine guns. They’ll mow down the charging infantry like cutting wheat."
"So," Nivelle moved closer, staring coldly at Christian, "I don’t plan on stopping the artillery."
"What?" Christian thought he must have misheard, "You plan to have the soldiers charge under artillery fire? Their own artillery? That will inevitably cause friendly fire..."
"I know," Nivelle interrupted Christian. "But as you said, if we don’t do this, they’ll be mowed down by enemy machine guns. Isn’t that right?"
Rather than letting them die under enemy machine guns, it was better for them to die under artillery fire.
The latter could still give the French a chance to push into the German trenches and engage in close combat, whereas the former was just a meaningless waste of life.
From a long-term perspective, the latter was obviously the better choice.
Christian was utterly shocked.
This might sound noble, "for victory, for France," but in essence, it was using the lives of soldiers to carve a bloody path for Nivelle, ensuring he could remain in his position as Supreme Commander.
He must be mad, Christian thought.
But Nivelle was unfazed by Christian’s thoughts. He pointed to the map on the table and coldly ordered, "When the infantry charges into the trenches to engage in close combat with the enemy, figure out how to cross the anti-tank ditches and trenches to infiltrate deep into the enemy’s rear. Can you do it?"
"Yes, General," Christian reluctantly replied, "We can do it."
He could indeed do it. The trenches could be filled with sandbags, and the anti-tank ditches could be bridged with steel beams.
This was an idea Christian had gotten from the Battle of Charleroi.
While Charles used fancy armored bridge-laying vehicles, Christian had to rely on engineers to build the bridge: the tanks would carry two thick steel beams, and once they reached the anti-tank ditch, the soldiers would manually place them to allow the tanks to cross.
"Very well," Nivelle straightened Christian’s uniform, "This battle will decide everything. After the victory, don’t worry about promotions, understand?"
"Yes, General," Christian responded, standing tall.
But his mind was in chaos: where would the infantry be for coordination after the breakthrough? What about logistics? How would fuel and ammunition be secured?
He wanted to speak, but opened his mouth and swallowed his words.
It would be useless to speak; Nivelle didn’t understand these things at all.
Besides, the attack was set for tomorrow, and there was no time to prepare.
Christian regretted not clearly voicing his support for Charles' position earlier.
If he had joined Charles' forces, he wouldn’t have been stuck in such a confusing and disastrous battle!