Erwin's tactical assessnt was sound in theory.
Namur, unlike the hard chalk soils of the Som, was surrounded by forests, rivers, and soft, porous terrain. As the rainy season arrived, the soil turned muddy, sticky, and treacherous—not just difficult for tanks, but challenging even for infantryn, whose boots sank deeply into the wet earth, impeding movent significantly.
For any attacking force, these conditions were catastrophic. Coupled with barbed wire and especially the anti-tank ditches Erwin had ticulously prepared, an assault appeared suicidal. Military analysts across Europe had already concluded that Namur was a battlefield inherently unfavorable to Charles's famous armored units.
Yet Charles had nonetheless chosen this battleground. Undoubtedly, he had devised a thod to overco these formidable defenses.
Early morning broke under cloudy skies, the heavy rains from the night before finally easing into a gentle drizzle. The world seed cleansed, freshened by the rainfall, with droplets glittering on leaves and branches. Pools of standing water had accumulated everywhere, slowly trickling toward and filling the German anti-tank ditches.
The anti-tank ditches had beco more than re obstacles; filled with muddy water now approaching two ters deep, they were near-impossible barriers. Any soldier attempting to cross risked drowning in the sludge.
German soldiers crouched silently in trenches behind these obstacles, chewing soggy bread for breakfast, their nerves frayed, anxiously awaiting what might co next. Behind them stood several surviving German 77mm infantry guns, positioned carefully by Erwin to ensure effective fire coverage over the first ditch.
Erwin's defense plan was straightforward:
The first ditch was placed approximately 500 ters in front of the German front lines. As French tanks halted there, forced to fill the trench to proceed, German 77mm artillery would swiftly destroy the immobilized armored vehicles, while infantry and machine-gun fire decimated accompanying French troops and engineers.
A second ditch, just 100 ters from the front line, provided a second defensive line, allowing infantry to fire armor-piercing "K bullets" from close range into the weaker side armor of any surviving tanks.
As Erwin arrived at the trenches, stepping carefully on wooden duckboards laid along muddy floors, soldiers imdiately greeted him with respect and nervous anticipation.
"Lieutenant Colonel!"
"Lieutenant Colonel Erwin!" voices called anxiously.
Erwin nodded, acknowledging each soldier in turn but maintained his focus on the enemy front, raising his binoculars with great care, moving deliberately to avoid drawing enemy sniper attention.
Through his binoculars, he studied the anti-tank ditches. His careful inspection reassured him—the ditches had indeed beco nearly impassable swamps, exactly as he had anticipated.
Stepping back from the trench wall, he let out a deep breath, montarily feeling relief.
Soldiers around him, however, showed growing anxiety:
"Lieutenant Colonel, those explosions yesterday—were they Charles's new rockets?"
"I heard almost our entire artillery was destroyed at Riverbend sector! Does that an Charles's tanks are coming next?"
"How can we possibly stop them?"
Erwin didn't deny it. "Yes, Charles's tanks are likely to attack. But I assure you, we're ready, and our defenses will stop them."
He then carefully explained the layout of the anti-tank ditches and their strategic positioning, emphasizing the significant tactical advantage granted by the rain-soaked terrain. After his explanation, soldiers visibly cald, reassured by his confident words.
"Even Charles can't overco nature," one soldier remarked, with others quickly agreeing.
"Charles surely didn't expect this rainstorm! This is truly an act of God!" another exclaid.
But at that very mont, the dreaded whistling sound filled the sky once more.
Countless rockets descended, screaming through the air, slamming into concealed German 77mm artillery positions. Explosions sent dirt, tal fragnts, and bodies flying into the air, demolishing guns and killing crews instantly.
To Erwin's shock, it beca clear these rockets didn't rely target the artillery positions known to the enemy. Instead, they systematically carpeted the rear area, turning it into a deadly no-man's-land. The enemy didn't even need precision targeting; sheer volu ensured the destruction of Erwin's carefully concealed guns.
"How can this be happening?" Erwin murmured helplessly. The rockets weren't only artillery suppressors but potent anti-infantry weapons. He realized bitterly how lavishly Charles was using these new weapons, expending ammunition with reckless abundance.
As the smoke cleared, the sound of tank engines—low and persistent—began reverberating across the battlefield. Soldiers felt vibrations in the muddy trench walls, knowing instinctively what it ant.
"They're coming!" a German soldier shouted, panic creeping into his voice.
Erwin swiftly stood on a firing step, peering over the trench edge with binoculars once more. Through the morning mist and drifting smoke, he saw them clearly: tanks, unmistakably Charles's feared "Char A1."
He was stunned.
Charles wouldn't recklessly send armored units into conditions certain to immobilize them—unless he had a reliable thod for crossing the anti-tank ditches.
"But what thod could he possibly have?" Erwin wondered desperately.
As the French tanks advanced steadily, German soldiers prepared rifles and machine guns, aiming nervously at approaching targets, their faces pale, damp from rain and sweat, gripping weapons so tightly their knuckles whitened.
A German officer barked a command sharply: "Get ready!"
But each man's thoughts mirrored Erwin's:
"How could Charles possibly cross those impassable ditches?"
Through binoculars, Erwin quickly scanned the French formation, hoping to identify sothing—anything—that would reveal Charles's secret.
Suddenly, he spotted strange vehicles among the advancing tanks. These unusual machines looked like tanks yet lacked conventional turrets. Instead, each carried large, oddly shaped tal structures.
Erwin's heart sank with dread, realizing imdiately he'd discovered the answer he sought. Charles had indeed prepared carefully for this eventuality.
"Special bridging tanks," Erwin whispered, barely audible even to himself. "They've built armored bridge-layers!"
His thoughts raced frantically: How could he possibly stop these machines?
But he quickly realized it was too late to do anything aningful now. His carefully engineered anti-tank defenses—so thoroughly planned, so confidently prepared—had beco utterly vulnerable, easily neutralized by Charles's innovative new weapons.
He sank down from the trench edge, despair briefly washing over him as he understood that once again, Charles had outmaneuvered him.
Yet Erwin shook off his despair, regaining composure. He still had soldiers relying on his leadership. Even now, he had to find so way—any way—to resist Charles's seemingly unstoppable attack.
Erwin turned decisively toward a nearby officer. "Prepare the n. They're crossing soon. We'll fight them trench by trench!"
The officer nodded grimly, relaying orders quickly down the line.
But privately, Erwin knew the truth. Charles had already solved the riddle of the anti-tank ditches—and once again, Erwin could only watch as Charles thodically dismantled his painstaking preparations.
Helplessly, Erwin wondered bitterly what other surprises Charles might have planned, understanding now that he was always several steps behind.
The French armored vehicles slowly approached, inexorably advancing toward the first anti-tank ditch.
(End of Chapter 539)
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 30 Chapters In Advance: patreon/Franklin1
User Comments
0 comments from readers