Though primitive, the Molotov cocktail—essentially just a throwable bottle—was remarkably effective, rivaling more advanced weapons in its impact. Its key advantage lay in its simplicity.
Unlike other weapons that required complex designs, gunpowder, or specialized technology, the Molotov cocktail was just a glass bottle, a bit of gasoline, and a cloth wick stuffed into the neck.
Charles took only a few minutes to assemble one. After lighting the cloth, he tossed it into the distance, where it shattered with a sharp crack, instantly igniting a small blaze at the point of impact.
"This is a Molotov cocktail. It will be an excellent weapon for night combat," Charles said, gesturing toward the flas. "Infantry can throw it into enemy trenches, allowing our tanks to see the trench lines."
Standing nearby, Colonel Estigny and Tijani stared in astonishnt.
Such a simple creation could produce an effect similar to, or even surpass, that of a grenade—but only Charles could have thought of it.
After a mont, Tijani comnted, "As I said, this is the essence of warfare. I'm beginning to feel sorry for those who'll fall to these Molotov cocktails!"
…
The tanks rumbled over the trenches now "filled" with flas, pursuing the retreating German forces without a pause. Only a few minutes had passed since the last German trench had fallen, with no interruptions along the way.
The artillery in the German bunkers finally opened fire, no longer concerned with hitting their own n. They couldn't simply watch as their defensive lines were breached.
But now they realized they had missed their only chance to destroy the enemy tanks.
At a re 100 ters, the tanks were advancing faster than the maximum rotation speed of the bunker gun mounts, leaving the German gunners unable to keep up.
Firing under these conditions not only missed the target but also revealed the bunkers' positions, drawing a devastating barrage of return fire from the French.
Though the German bunkers were largely safe from the French 75mm guns, the blinding flashes and smoke obscured the already limited visibility, leaving the gunners helpless within their bunkers.
Rolf had already abandoned command. Realizing that the fall of Antwerp was inevitable, he saw that the German defenses were no match for Charles's forces.
It was almost laughable—just hours earlier, he and General Marcus had believed they could shatter Charles's plan and hold back his advance. Now, that seed like an impossible fantasy.
Crushed by despair, Rolf gave up on fleeing. He turned and stood, silently watching the approaching tanks, unmoved by the frantic shouts of his guards.
The tanks ca closer… and closer…
…
The battle ended just over an hour later.
The tanks pushed forward at a steady 6 kiloters per hour, piercing through two layers of defensive rings in a single offensive thrust, reaching the core of Antwerp.
Now ca the real challenge—a large number of German soldiers had retreated into the city, attempting to organize a defense amid the urban landscape.
The Germans had reinforcents, potentially large and continuously increasing. Coupled with the remnants of German forces that had fled from the front lines, they would be able to mount a counterattack from both within and outside the city against Charles's troops.
However, the Germans ultimately failed to regroup effectively due to the lack of centralized command.
Just as Charles was wrestling with how to secure Antwerp and set up defenses before the German reinforcents arrived, the Germans sent a delegation requesting to surrender to the French forces.
And so, the Battle of Antwerp ended amid cheers.
Not only did Charles reclaim this stronghold known as the "national fortress," but he also captured nearly all its intact facilities, including bunkers, artillery platforms, defensive lines, and twenty-three 105mm howitzers.
…
The following morning, Parisians woke up to eagerly discuss Charles's advance over breakfast with their families.
They now saw "victory" as inevitable; to them, Charles simply couldn't fail. The question was only how long it would take him to secure this victory.
So guessed half a month, others a month, and a few speculated that it might take six months.
"After all, it's an entire country he's facing," they reasoned. "Even the Allies, with hundreds of thousands of soldiers and a powerful navy, have been fighting in the Dardanelles for months with little progress. And Charles only has a tank brigade and an infantry regint—and his enemy is the Germans!"
This opinion soon gained traction, with people agreeing that Charles's advance should be viewed rationally. There was no need to idealize Charles or expect him to achieve victory in just a month or even two weeks.
"This will be a prolonged and arduous fight, with no doubt a high cost in soldiers' lives."
"But, regardless, at least we're moving forward now. It's far better than the previous stalemate."
"Charles has broken that deadlock. We can't expect too much of him!"
…
Deyoka and Camille hadn't slept all night.
When Camille got up to make breakfast, her eyes were red and puffy from lack of sleep. She had tossed and turned all night, sighing countless tis, with the static from her newly purchased radio buzzing on her bedside table. She'd get up now and then to fiddle with it, afraid of missing any news.
Deyoka, sitting at the dining table, couldn't help but suggest, "This was only the first day. We can't keep going like this."
"I know," Camille replied blankly. "But I can't help myself."
Deyoka regretted buying that radio. He had only intended to ease Camille's worries.
"They say this battle might take a long ti?" Camille said as she placed so bread in front of Deyoka, though she'd forgotten to bring the milk and hadn't cut the fruit.
"Yes," Deyoka replied with a nod. "You know, Charles doesn't have many troops, and his enemy is very strong…"
Deyoka stopped himself when he saw the worried look in Camille's eyes.
"They should put more troops under Charles's command," Camille muttered.
Deyoka was surprised by her comnt; Camille had never expressed such thoughts before.
"I realized sothing," Camille said weakly, sinking into a chair opposite Deyoka. "The sooner this war ends, the safer Charles will be. Don't you think?"
Deyoka nodded in agreent.
No country at war would let soone like Charles sit on the sidelines. Hoping he could stay out of it was an unrealistic dream.
As they sat in heavy silence, chewing on their bread, a cheer suddenly erupted from outside: "Charles has won! He's achieved a decisive victory…"
Camille and Deyoka looked up at each other in shock, then hurriedly dropped their bread and ran to the door.
"Noémie, is it true? Has Charles won?"
"Where did you hear that?"
Noémie shouted back excitedly, her voice full of joy, "It's true, Mr. Deyoka! The news ca from the military—just an hour ago. Charles took Antwerp in a single day and surrounded over 200,000 German soldiers. He's incredible!"
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