I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start Chapter 212 212: A Battle of Wits

General Tijani's gaze passed through the observation port as he surveyed the state of Christine's troops outside the trench. His eyes were filled with envy. "I would've given anything to have brought more n back, General Christine!"

Tijani's division had been completely pinned down in the Samock Straight. Pounded by artillery and crossfire, they had suffered more than five thousand casualties. Worse, his troops were demoralized and on the brink of surrender, while Christine's First Special Artillery Division still held its resolve.

Christine gave a faint, bitter smile. "Charles rescued us too."

Surprised, Tijani turned to him, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You too?"

He had assud Charles's forces would only be able to reach his Second Artillery Division on the isolated flank. But now it seed that Christine's division had been saved by Charles as well.

Christine nodded, his expression mixed with both gratitude and a hint of frustration. "Charles's planes scouted for us and directed us to a weak point in the encirclent. That made all the difference!"

Tijani exhaled in realization. "With planes surveying enemy positions, he could see what we couldn't."

"It wasn't just that," Christine shook his head slightly. "Would you have thought to break out via the Trem River?"

"The Trem River?" Tijani, being part of the planning, knew it well—a small river running west of the quarry.

Christine sighed, recounting briefly, "Charles instructed us to abandon our heavy equipnt and break out through the Trem River. The Germans didn't anticipate us taking that route, so they had minimal defenses there. We used mortars to suppress enemy positions on the opposite bank and then advanced with grenades for close combat."

It dawned on Tijani that it wasn't rely reconnaissance but Charles's tactical guidance that had led Christine's division to success. Here was Christine, a seasoned veteran, taking battlefield direction from Charles—a seventeen-year-old who had never even seen the front lines—and it had worked flawlessly.

What Tijani didn't realize was that Christine had even deeper doubts gnawing at him. Before the battle, Christine had defied Joffre to equip his division with mortars under great pressure. Had he not done so, would his forces have needed twice as many n to break out and reach this place?

Why did it seem that every advantage—from tactics, to mortars, to grenades—sohow traced back to Charles?

Suddenly, a soldier shouted, "Enemy sighted, eastward!"

Everyone tensed up imdiately. Christine scrambled out of the trench to direct his troops to shift their weapons and take defensive positions facing east.

This was the peril of being trapped in enemy-controlled territory—they could never be sure which direction the next attack might co from.

Monts later, another shout: "Tanks—German tanks!"

"Prepare for battle!" Christine yelled, raising his binoculars to peer in the direction indicated by the sentry.

Sure enough, through the binoculars he could make out the hulking forms of tanks advancing a few kiloters down the road. They weren't the familiar "Mark I" models but were unmistakably German tanks.

"General Tijani," Christine called out to his colleague, "you wouldn't mind if I took command of your tanks, would you?"

"Not at all!" Tijani replied without hesitation. Exhausted by the battlefield's relentless demands, he had lost all sense of what to do next and was only too happy to defer.

Christine was about to issue orders when a plane roared overhead, dropping an intelligence capsule.

Monts later, a cheer broke out among the n, and soone shouted, "They're ours! It's Charles's division, with his new tanks!"

A wave of relief washed over the crowd as they broke into jubilant cheers. Christine and Tijani both let out long breaths of relief.

Still cautious, Christine continued to observe the approaching convoy through his binoculars. Only when he spotted the sidecars in formation, along with the soldiers in bright red trousers, did he order his n to stand down.

After a mont's hesitation, he turned to Tijani. "We should be ready to break through, General Tijani."

"Break through? Now?" Tijani asked, surprised.

Christine nodded decisively. The sooner they broke out, the better. Charles would likely agree.

His only concern was that the tanks leading the charge looked small. Could they really withstand the demands of a breakout?

…

Christine's doubts were soon dispelled. The Charles A1 tanks proved unstoppable in the breakout, performing so impressively they could be described as "formidable."

Their frontal armor asured 25mm thick, enough to withstand German anti-tank rounds from a 200-ter distance. While this still presented a potential danger, the mortars supporting the tanks had a 700-ter range and could target enemy trenches. Any trench showing signs of a heavy machine gun was imdiately showered with mortar rounds.

The assault unfolded like a symphony of coordination. The tanks led the infantry forward, tossing grenades into trenches while troops surged ahead, tearing open gaps in the German defenses.

Many had doubted whether the Charles A1's compact design could navigate enemy trenches, but in practice, it defied all expectations. Equipped with a rear tail hook, the Charles A1 could cross trenches with ease, barely causing a bump.

When General Tijani saw the tanks clearing trenches one by one, his earlier despondency transford into renewed vigor. As he directed his troops to push forward, he shouted with joy, "Now this is a tank—a true fighting machine!"

At that mont, Tijani decided he had a new idol. No longer Napoleon, but Charles. After all, Napoleon could never have created such a war machine, sothing born purely for battle—a masterpiece of military innovation and artistry.

The infantry had fewer philosophical reflections, focused solely on following the tanks as they breached the enemy line and pushing the advantage.

…

Back in Berlin, at the German General Staff Headquarters, Falkenhain could only sigh upon receiving the news that the Cape Town defense line had been breached.

Although he had anticipated the outco, the reality still stung.

Looking back, he saw where victory had slipped through his fingers. Had he just held firm in Cape Town, Charles's flanks would have been exposed to the Fourth Reserve Division regardless of the direction of his breakout attempt.

But in his excessive concern over Charles's unpredictability, he had made several misjudged troop movents, giving Charles the opening he needed.

Otherwise, a re nine tanks—even if they were new models—would have been insufficient to break through.

Charles hadn't only been fighting with tactics and technology; he had been waging a psychological battle.

He had read his opponent's mind to perfection.

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