The First Special Artillery Division achieved a major victory in Cambrai with a night attack. The French forces pushed the Germans back, reclaiming lost ground until they finally stopped at their original line of defense. The reason for halting was the Saint-Chamond M21's limited treads, which couldn't clear the two-ter-wide trenches, preventing them from pursuing the retreating German forces further.
But General Christian was satisfied; he'd captured a significant number of German tanks—129 in total, with 83 fully operational. The Germans were caught off guard, unable to navigate their tanks in the darkness, forcing them to abandon the vehicles and flee without ti to destroy them.
Colonel Gaston, commander of the 2nd Artillery Regint, could barely contain his excitent. He eagerly asked Christian, "General, you're not planning to hand these tanks to anyone else, are you? They're our prize, and I'd gladly trade the Saint-Chamond for these!"
"I'm not sure, Gaston," Christian replied, gazing at the iron beasts. Though they were spoils of war, they were undoubtedly superior to the Saint-Chamond M21.
"You know," Christian continued, looking resigned, "we don't have the final say here."
Gaston's enthusiasm faded as he considered the situation: The First Special Artillery Division had won against the Germans with the Saint-Chamond M21. To those back in headquarters, it would likely seem that the M21 outperford the German tanks. As a result, these captured tanks would probably be reassigned to less experienced troops rather than to the elite First Special Artillery Division.
What was more troubling was that as long as the Saint-Chamond M21 wasn't eliminated and kept achieving victories, Schneider would have every reason to demand more orders.
Gaston sighed, reflecting on how hard it was as a tank commander to get his hands on a competent vehicle. Instead of fighting the enemy, it felt like he was in a constant struggle against clueless generals and greedy industrialists.
Christian offered a consoling pat on Gaston's shoulder and remarked, "Think about Charles, Gaston. I hope you understand his sacrifice."
Christian left to oversee the fortification of the defensive line, leaving Gaston staring after him, puzzled. Charles' sacrifice? All he did was give advice, right?
After a mont, it dawned on Gaston: Charles, a known rival to Joffre, had essentially helped the First Special Artillery Division succeed, indirectly aiding Joffre. In other words, Charles had helped his adversary defeat his own forces—doing so solely to save the lives of the division's soldiers.
The news of the victory reached the French High Command, sparking celebrations. So even embraced one another, congratulating each other. Joffre, known as the "Calm Pill of France" by the press, remained seated, though his eyes moistened.
He had been desperate for a win. Not even a "remarkable" victory—just a small, notable one felt like a luxury. Joffre often felt overshadowed by Charles, who, with each invention and every victory, lood over him like a mountain, making it hard for him to breathe. He had even considered resigning and escaping this heavy burden. But the thought of giving up everything he had achieved was just as unbearable.
Losing to a re teenager? Unthinkable.
Finally, he had a win. At last, he'd shown his own ability and proved he wasn't just a figurehead.
"General!" A staff officer, standing a few ters away with a phone in hand, called out to Joffre. "General Christian is on the line. Would you like to speak with him?"
"Yes." Joffre stood with a newfound confidence, took the phone, and spoke with a voice full of strength and conviction. "Well done, Christian. Like I told you, victory cos to those who dare to attack. You achieved it!"
On the other end of the line, Christian allowed himself a small, bitter smile. The fool, he thought. He still doesn't realize the key to victory was the night attack, not his command!
Christian kept his thoughts to himself. He had made a decision. "Yes, General. You were absolutely right."
Christian then added, "I'll continue the offensive, but first, I believe we should consolidate our captured defensive line."
"Agreed," Joffre replied, pleased with Christian's suggestion. "I'll send reinforcents to take over the position."
Before ending the call, Joffre added, "And please convey my gratitude to every soldier. They are all heroes!"
In the past, Christian might have felt deeply moved by those words. But now, all he felt was the emptiness behind them. If Joffre truly cared about the soldiers, if he truly thought they were heroes, Christian thought, he'd treat them like Charles did—considering their lives instead of blindly throwing them into the enemy's gunfire.
After hanging up, Christian took another look around, then quietly picked up the phone once more and lowered his voice. "Get the Police Training Base, 105th Infantry Regint Command."
anwhile, the 105th Infantry Regint Command had also received the news of the victory in Cambrai. Holding the telegram, Tijani looked at Charles and nodded. "Incredible. You gave just two words, yet it led to a turnaround for a unit that was facing certain defeat. Is there a story behind this?"
Charles replied with a hint of sarcasm, "Are you ready to admit Christian is better than you?"
Christian had understood what to do just from the words "night attack," while Tijani still hadn't pieced it together.
"Hardly!" Tijani chuckled awkwardly, although, truthfully, he hadn't figured it out.
It wasn't that Tijani lacked skill but that he was unfamiliar with the Saint-Chamond M21 and dismissed it as junk. Because of that, he hadn't considered how it could play a pivotal role in a night attack.
Then the phone rang—it was Christian calling.
"It has 14mm front armor, a speed of about 12 kiloters per hour, and a maximum speed of 16," Christian began.
Charles responded with a simple "I see."
Christian continued: "It's 6.7 ters long, 2.34 ters wide, and 2.965 ters high, with a ground clearance of 0.6 ters. It has one cannon turret and two machine gun turrets, one front and one rear."
Charles replied, "Understood."
Finally, Christian added, "I thought this information might be useful to you, General. I'll stay under Joffre's command." For more chapters visit novel(ꜰ)ire
Charles gave a small, knowing smile. "Thank you. Understood."
Charles knew exactly what Christian ant. The last ssage could be read the other way around: "I'm staying under Joffre's command. This information might be useful to you."
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