I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start

Chapter 150: Charles's Tank is the Real Tank

At Lafaux, another gloomy evening settled over the German defensive lines. Colonel Jurgen Halil trudged through puddles, rain and autumn wind chilling him to the bone as he tightened his coat against the cold. He watched a group of German soldiers nearby, using their helmets to scoop water out of the trenches. Spotting Halil approaching, they quickly stopped to salute him.

"Don't stop, boys," Colonel Halil said impassively. "Scooping water will save your lives more than saluting me will. This trench could kill you; I won't."

The soldiers laughed, a brief moment of levity as giant rats scurried by their feet. Over time, the rats had grown fearless around humans, and when bodies weren't cleared quickly enough, they would gnaw the faces off by morning. But there was little Halil could do about the vermin.

"I'd rather face a French attack than deal with those rats," he muttered, before turning to shout at two soldiers slacking below a machine gun post. "If you don't want a bullet to the head, you'd better reinforce those parapets before the rain washes them away!"

Exhausted, the soldiers nodded and fumbled for their shovels to climb back up the muddy trench walls. Satisfied, Halil made his way down a communication trench toward the Second Infantry Regiment's command post.

Dripping wet, Halil ducked into the dimly lit command shelter. He chose to remain standing, unwilling to get the few remaining dry spots in the room wet, though he knew it was only a matter of time before everything here was soaked too.

"Colonel," his aide said quietly, handing him a document as he stepped in.

"What's this?" Halil asked, glancing down at the document—a newspaper.

"It's a paper smuggled in from France. Our intelligence officer thought it might be of interest to you."

Halil placed it aside, taking off his raincoat and helmet to dry his hands. Then, standing under a dim light, he picked up the paper and read. After a brief scan, he looked up, surprised. "Charles's tank?"

"Yes, Colonel," his aide confirmed. "Our informant said that after Charles made these comments, he realized he'd spoken too freely and quickly left the scene. He was later reprimanded by Gallieni."

Halil nodded and returned to the paper, reading with a chuckle. "He's right. The tanks that have been attacking us have all had these issues. They stumble around in front of us, blind, shooting aimlessly, making them easy targets."

"That's not the most important part, Colonel," his aide, Wolf, reminded him.

Halil paused, catching Wolf's meaning, then nodded. "You're right, Wolf. If Charles knew about these problems, he wouldn't make the same mistakes. So…"

"So, his tank must be faster," Wolf continued. "This would make it harder for our artillery to hit, and it likely has stronger armor, maybe even enough to withstand our K-bullets."

Halil grunted. "That means his tank could drive right up to us, spraying us with machine-gun fire at close range."

"We should be thankful that France has such a foolish parliament," Wolf replied. "They rejected Charles's tanks and bought two models that aren't real tanks at all. Otherwise, we'd likely be corpses by now."

"True, Wolf!" Halil laughed. "It's a shame I can't send the French parliament a thank-you note."

The officers in the shelter laughed, despite the tension. The irony wasn't lost on them.

"Now," Halil said, waving the paper at his officers, "we need to start thinking about how to stop this tank—Charles's tank, a real tank!"

The room fell silent. After a few moments, Wolf spoke up. "We'll need to increase our K-bullet reserves, but we can't rely on them entirely."

"Agreed," Halil replied, gesturing with a finger in the air. "Charles will likely have reinforced the front armor. K-bullets might work on the sides, but by the time we get a clear shot at the sides, the enemy infantry will already be upon us."

He signaled to a scribe nearby. "Make a note of this, Konig. We mustn't overlook any detail."

The scribe nodded, scribbling down Halil's instructions.

"That leaves artillery," Wolf said. "But if Charles's tank is fast…"

The room fell silent again. They couldn't predict the tank's speed, and if it moved erratically, it would be nearly impossible for artillery to target.

After a moment of thought, Halil suggested, "Perhaps we can prepare a wide-area bombardment, or we could use sectioned firing."

Sectioned firing was an artillery strategy, essentially an early form of fire control. Artillery batteries pre-calibrated their guns to fire at set coordinates, with test shots beforehand to ensure accuracy. This allowed them to cover a designated area with artillery fire instantly, creating a "firestorm" zone whenever a signal was given.

It was a precise and rapid-response tactic, but it required artillery batteries to remain on standby, unable to engage other targets. They would need multiple batteries, assigned exclusively to each designated section of the battlefield.

"We'll need more artillery," Halil muttered, "and a lot more shells."

"Every division is short on artillery and shells, Colonel," someone else remarked. "They won't just give them to us."

The entire defensive line was stretched thin. Artillery and munitions were scarce along the hundreds of kilometers of trenches, and the autumn rains only made transport harder. Artillery and ammunition were rare assets, and requests often went unfulfilled.

Wolf held up the newspaper. "Or, perhaps, we could pass this intelligence along to General von Waldeck. He might have some ideas on how to handle it."

Halil understood. If General von Waldeck realized that Charles's tanks would soon be attacking the Lafaux line, he might well agree to send additional artillery to their defense.

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