Chapter 582: Unwritten Rules
In the small town of Bloue, Belgium.
The church bells chimed gently, accompanied faintly by the sound of hymns, heralding the arrival of Christmas Eve.
However, this crisp and melodious sound failed to bring even a sliver of joy. The ominous cloud of war still loomed over the entire world.
Darkness enveloped the land, silent amidst the wind and snow for a brief moment, before ruthlessly tearing apart the night’s tranquility.
No one knew who fired first. Initially, it was just one or two shells screaming through the air, but soon, their numbers multiplied exponentially.
Before long, the entire Western Front was engulfed in the cacophony of whistling projectiles and explosions. The intermittent flashes of light from the firing and detonations resembled relentless lightning.
Major General Christine waited patiently in the trenches, feeling the vibrations of the artillery shells as they drew near, passed over, and gradually receded into the depths of the battlefield.
This was the typical rhythm of nocturnal artillery warfare.
In the darkness, neither side's artillery was likely to target the opponent's trenches directly, as the lack of visibility made precision nearly impossible.
Instead, they aimed at counter-battery fire. The flash and smoke from enemy guns firing would reveal their locations. Whichever side gained the upper hand first could suppress the other and seize an overall advantage.
After waiting a while longer, when the artillery duel had reached a deadlock, Christine shouted, "Attack!"
The piercing sound of whistles immediately echoed, one after another, traveling down the trenches.
The "Char A1" tanks were the first to charge up the slopes into No Man’s Land, creeping toward the enemy lines at a low speed of around 3 kilometers per hour. Some tanks even had their hatches open, with commanders sticking their heads out to survey the terrain and guide the drivers.
Lacking effective night combat capabilities, these tanks were mainly used to shield the advancing infantry from bullets and then retreat safely.
The soldiers climbed out of the trenches in squads via short ladders, advancing behind the tanks toward the enemy’s fortifications.
...
Colonel Godevois was at the forefront, closely following behind a tank.
Not out of courage, but rather a calculated decision. He had analyzed the situation before the battle and concluded that the rear might be more dangerous. Staying away from the tanks increased the chances of being hit by bullets or shells.
He deduced that the safest spot was behind the tanks, where the armor created a blind spot for bullets and shrapnel.
With some luck, he could circle the battlefield behind the tanks and return safely, earning a reputation for "leading from the front."
Indeed, heavy machine gun fire sprayed bullets in swathes, and mortar shells exploded nearby, yet nothing threatened him directly.
The bullets ricocheted off the tank armor with a metallic "clang," making his heart pound with fear. But for the sake of survival, he summoned the courage to stick close.
Perhaps due to the tension or the darkness, Godevois failed to notice the dwindling number of soldiers around him, until eventually, he was the only one advancing alongside the tank.
When he finally sensed something amiss and turned to look back, several live grenades suddenly landed beside him. Before he could comprehend the situation, he was engulfed in the smoke of the ensuing explosion.
...
From the very start, Xavier had a bad feeling. As he led his troops out of the trenches, he noticed several soldiers constantly staying close to him.
Were they bodyguards?
Their silhouettes seemed unfamiliar.
Moreover, advancing in tight formations at night, the so-called bodyguards soon dispersed amidst the gunfire.
Was he being overly suspicious?
Yet Xavier couldn’t shake off the feeling, as no matter where he ran, those figures shadowed him like hunters stalking prey.
A thought sprang to mind: he had interrogated many mutinous soldiers and sentenced some to death in confinement. Perhaps some harbored deep resentment.
Fear welled up within Xavier as he realized he was in danger. The enemy seemed omnipresent, and he could be consumed by the endless darkness at any moment.
"Raphael! Bertrand!" Xavier shouted, again and again.
These were his trusted aides from Paris—his only sources of reliability.
"General!" Amid the cacophony of gunfire, Xavier barely heard Raphael’s response.
Joy surged within him. He ducked into a shell crater, shouting back toward the voice, "Come to me, immediately—"
Before he could finish, pain struck his chest. Glancing down, he saw a bayonet protruding from his chest. Blood poured forth as the blade, partially exposed, gleamed coldly under the flickering light of the battlefield.
Xavier collapsed to the ground, struggling to breathe. With his fading consciousness, he cursed weakly, "Those bastards… they used… German bayonets!"
(Note: The bayonets of the German and French armies were easily distinguishable—the former being shorter and broader, the latter needle-like.)
...
Several staff officers huddled in a shell crater, unwilling to move forward. They believed that under the cover of night, no one would notice them, and they could wait there until the retreat order was given.
However, just as they congratulated themselves on their "cleverness," several mortar shells accurately struck their crater.
Elsewhere, a regimental commander, brandishing a revolver to rally his troops forward, was cut down by stray bullets from an unknown source.
The offensive lasted for more than twenty minutes before retreating en masse on Christine’s orders.
Since it was a low-intensity probing attack rather than a full assault, the casualties were relatively light, with only around 200 dead or wounded.
What was "unexpected," however, was the disproportionately high casualty rate among mid- to senior-ranking officers. Two colonels were killed, along with four regimental commanders (one dead, one wounded), and ten out of eighteen staff officers.
Upon his return, Major General Christine promptly reported to Gamelin via telephone, his voice heavy with sorrow and introspection:
"The officers were brave, General. They fearlessly charged at the forefront, which may partly explain the heavy casualties."
"Moreover, I have reason to suspect the Germans dispatched ‘stormtroopers’ to counterattack us."
"Otherwise, such an outcome would be highly improbable!"
The "stormtroopers" were German special forces known for penetrating enemy lines to attack command centers.
Gamelin merely snorted upon receiving the casualty report.
With 22 years of military experience, he understood what was happening. Certain unwritten rules within the army led to the punishment or elimination of those deemed a hindrance to the overall operation.
This was clearly one of those "unspoken rules" at work.
But Gamelin did not openly address it. Glancing at Charles, who was leisurely reading a newspaper at the desk, Gamelin coldly instructed a staff officer in a low voice, "Examine the bodies. Keep it discreet."
The staff officer replied, "Already done, General. There’s no issue."
He handed over a report as he spoke.
Gamelin glanced at the report and nearly fainted from anger.
All deaths were attributed to grenades, mortars, or German bayonets. Even bullets extracted from the wounds were identified as German Luger rounds.