Chapter 599: It’s All the British’s Doing
Antwerp, one kilometer west of Fort “Bueno,” a German battalion was launching an assault on a British warehouse.
As they advanced, firing their weapons, they shouted instructions to each other in German:
“Up ahead is the British warehouse. Pay attention to securing the supplies.”
“We need those supplies; there’s a lot of gasoline we desperately lack in there!”
“No grenades, no artillery! Aim carefully before shooting!”
...
Supplies were a valuable resource for any army, and Germany, under the Entente’s blockade, was no exception.
Thus, the German forces adopted a cautious approach, refraining from gunfire unless absolutely necessary. Even in close combat, they used their rifle stocks to knock out British soldiers rather than killing them.
The British were caught completely off guard.
The Germans moved with astonishing speed, appearing as if they had sprung from the ground. Moreover, their numbers were overwhelming—a battalion of five to six hundred troops.
In contrast, the British defenders included only one infantry company and one engineering company. The infantry company was assigned to guard duty, while the engineering company was tasked with road clearing, maintenance, and hauling.
Both companies, already battered and demoralized by German airstrikes, had long since lost their fighting capability. They were in no condition to fend off the numerically superior German assault.
Most critically, Major Colton, in charge of the warehouse’s defense, found General Avis’s orders baffling:
“Ensure the safety of the supplies? Even if we surrender, we’re not to destroy the supplies?”
“Does that mean we’re supposed to shield the supplies with our bodies?”
“Even that wouldn’t help. The warehouse is full of ammunition and gasoline—just a few grenades could cause a chain explosion or an uncontrollable fire!”
Glancing at the skies above, filled with dive-bombing German aircraft, Major Colton realized he had only one option.
“Retreat!” he shouted. “Everyone, withdraw from the warehouse!”
Under relentless aerial assaults, the British soldiers fled in disarray, leaving the fully stocked warehouse to the Germans. Only a few “laborers” inside failed to escape in time and were taken prisoner.
To their surprise, the Germans didn’t seem particularly interested in keeping them. After confiscating their weapons, they were shooed away.
Meanwhile, German pilots overhead were equally surprised by what they witnessed below:
“Our troops penetrated enemy lines this quickly?”
“And they’ve already taken the warehouse! These guys are incredible!”
“Protect them, boys. Don’t let anyone else get near!”
...
General Avis received a call from Major General Eden: “The warehouse has been taken by the Germans. They were clearly prepared. Their planes are strafing the area, keeping everyone away.”
General Avis, his face ashen, replied, “No matter the cost, General, we must retake that warehouse. You know how vital those supplies are to us!”
“I understand, General. I’ll do my best!” Eden promised.
...
Dunkirk, British Expeditionary Force Headquarters.
Field Marshal Kitchener, who had just risen and was enjoying breakfast in his quarters, planned to visit the Somme River today. It was the most critical battlefield for the Expeditionary Force, where a breakthrough was essential to establish dominance and intimidate colonial forces.
However, Haig’s conservatism and stubbornness were proving to be the biggest obstacles. He refused to deploy tank groups, insisting instead on infantry and cavalry charges.
“That place needs my personal command,” Kitchener muttered, shaking his head as he cut into a steak.
Suddenly, rapid footsteps echoed outside, and the door burst open. An aide reported urgently: “Field Marshal, the Germans have launched an offensive.”
“An offensive?” Kitchener’s eyes lit up. “At the Somme?”
This was good news. Kitchener had been struggling to breach the Germans’ defenses of machine guns and trenches, and now they were counterattacking.
“No, Field Marshal,” the aide replied, sounding alarmed. “It’s in Antwerp.”
“Antwerp?” Kitchener frowned, taken aback. It wasn’t what he had anticipated.
Still, he wasn’t overly concerned. The Germans’ forces were tied up at Verdun and the Somme. They couldn’t have many troops to spare for Antwerp.
The British, meanwhile, had heavily fortified the Antwerp front.
But the next words from his aide shattered his confidence: “Our forces were caught completely off guard and have retreated across the line!”
Kitchener’s knife and fork clattered onto the plate. He looked up at his aide. “What did you say?”
“Our troops have retreated across the line,” the aide repeated. “The Germans’ vanguard has reached the fortifications and even infiltrated Antwerp to seize the supply warehouse.”
“What? They’ve taken the supply warehouse?”
“Additionally,” the aide continued grimly, “our naval transport lines were attacked by German submarines. Thirty-seven transport ships and destroyers have been lost, and over ten have been captured. Their status remains unclear.”
Kitchener leapt to his feet, hesitated briefly, and then walked over to the map hanging on the wall. He focused on the Antwerp front.
It was over. Kitchener realized the Germans’ strategy: they intended to create a breakthrough by cutting off supplies.
And the British, stationed right at the critical point, had encountered the Germans’ elite troops!
...
Paris City Hall. Briand had just stepped inside when Clemenceau intercepted him.
“Urgent news, Prime Minister,” Clemenceau said with a worried expression. “The Germans are attacking Antwerp, and the situation is dire. The British are in retreat.”
“What?” Briand was stunned. “The Germans shouldn’t have enough forces to attack Antwerp.”
“Indeed, not many,” Clemenceau confirmed. “Only two corps—tens of thousands of men. But the British…”
Clemenceau shrugged, his scythe-like mustache twitching slightly as if to say, “We shouldn’t count on them for anything in war.”
“We’re convening an emergency meeting on this matter.” Clemenceau gestured toward the Chamber of Deputies.
On the way, Briand couldn’t help but ask, “How bad is it?”
“Very bad,” Clemenceau sighed. “The Germans have used submarines to block the shipping routes and taken control of the Antwerp supply warehouse.”
Briand abruptly stopped, staring at Clemenceau in shock. “Are you saying all the supplies are in German hands?”
Clemenceau nodded grimly. “I’m afraid so, Prime Minister.”
Briand’s face turned pale.
Not long ago, he had coordinated with the British to cut off Charles’s supplies, leaving him incapacitated.
Now, the Germans had seized the Antwerp warehouse, securing all the supplies.
Had they overplayed their hand? What had started as an effort to control and weaken Charles had resulted in the collapse of an entire defensive line!
Clemenceau, returning to Briand’s side, glanced around cautiously and lowered his voice. “We know nothing about this, Prime Minister. It’s all the British’s doing.”