The second anti-tank ditch posed slightly more significant pressure, as the German infantry could fire accurately, coupled with continuous mortar shelling raining down upon the advancing French troops.
However, for the heavily ard First Armored Division, these attacks were nothing more than re drizzle. The accompanying Saint-Chamond tanks and experienced mortar crews imdiately began their suppression against the German defenses.
The rapid-firing and highly accurate 75mm artillery quickly silenced the German machine gun positions. The German trenches were bombarded as if caught in a hurricane; soldiers scread in agony as shockwaves hurled them violently back into their trenches, imdiately burying them beneath mounds of earth displaced by the explosions.
The French mortar teams were highly trained—each one of them cultivated by Charles himself with massive amounts of ammunition during their training. During combat, they hardly needed to asure; a brief glance at their targets was sufficient to precisely calibrate their mortars. Within monts, shells landed accurately, destroying the hidden enemy firing positions one after another.
(Note: Mortar teams could indeed fire accurately by instinct. During WWII, Japanese grenade-launcher crews could suppress Nationalist machine-gun positions with frightening precision, relying purely on experience and estimation. Mortars of this era had a short range, almost comparable to grenade launchers.)
The French army seized this opportunity to continue their advance.
Under the covering fire provided by tanks and infantry, a second wave of armored bridging vehicles crossed the first anti-tank ditch. Their movent wasn't fast—perhaps only a dozen kiloters per hour—but they advanced steadily, and within a few minutes, they traversed the few hundred ters to the second ditch. Once there, these vehicles once again extended their steel bridges thodically across the ditch…
The German soldiers were almost on the verge of collapse. Helpless, they watched as the enemy tanks steadily approached, utterly unable to respond. Many soldiers began to consider retreat, only to be sternly ordered by their frontline commander, Colonel Fain:
"Hold your ground! Our trenches have been widened—those tanks can't easily cross them!"
"They are an armored unit and inexperienced in close-quarter combat. Fix bayonets!"
"Victory will be ours!"
The German soldiers struggled to calm themselves.
They reassured each other that Colonel Fain's words made sense. Indeed, the Char A1 tanks couldn't easily traverse widened infantry trenches unless the French had more bridging vehicles. Moreover, in close combat, the German soldiers had always maintained superiority over the French. Thus, they convinced themselves that there was still hope, perhaps even a chance for a counterattack.
However, before they could fully recover, the French troops, protected by tank fire, began their assault.
A volley of grenades first overwheld the Germans, causing chaos and confusion. Imdiately afterward, a long and sharp whistle sounded, and the French infantry shouted as they charged toward the German trenches.
The situation quickly turned into an unexpected rout. The Germans found themselves unable to resist at all.
This engagent could not even be described as close-quarter combat, as there was no clash of bayonets, no wrestling or desperate hand-to-hand struggle. Instead, it was a one-sided slaughter inflicted by the French upon the Germans.
Submachine gunners stood at the edge of the trenches, spraying bullets in sweeping arcs. With a continuous, deafening "rat-tat-tat," the stunned German soldiers, still recovering from the grenades, fell in waves, bodies piling up in bloody heaps.
The PPD submachine guns, fed by drum magazines containing 71 rounds, could swiftly cut down a dozen German soldiers repeatedly without reloading.
Shotgun-equipped soldiers took an even more aggressive approach, jumping directly into the trenches. Taking advantage of their weapon's short length, they fired devastating bursts of pellets at close range into nearby enemy soldiers.
A shotgun's greatest strength was its stopping power; any German soldier foolish enough to charge directly at these troops would find himself hurled backward by a single powerful blast. Ard with such a weapon, the French soldiers had little fear of enemy soldiers closing in on them.
(Note: Submachine guns fire pistol-caliber ammunition, which lacks strong stopping power. In very close quarters, if an enemy soldier charges with a fixed bayonet, it might not be sufficient to stop him before his bayonet reaches you. Shotguns don't have this disadvantage.)
The combined assault of submachine guns and shotguns, supported by grenades and rifles, enabled the French to devastate the German forces within the trenches. German troops, caught in a horrifying chaos, could only hold their positions briefly before fleeing in total disarray.
Even Erwin, witnessing this disaster, had no choice but to retreat along with his n. Just then, the terrifying howl of rockets echoed through the sky once again.
Erwin felt a fresh wave of shock and dread.
Charles's army wasn't rely equipped with more advanced artillery, tanks, and bridging vehicles. They also wielded new types of firearms specialized in close-quarter and lee combat—and displayed exceptional bravery and fighting spirit.
How could the German forces even hope to challenge such an army?
Even if he managed to escape alive today, Erwin had no idea how they could possibly defeat Charles's forces in future battles. At this mont, he seriously considered surrendering altogether.
...
When news of victory reached Charles's headquarters, he simply nodded calmly. The outco didn't surprise him at all; the Germans had invested far too much hope in their artillery blockade and anti-tank ditches.
The greater the hope, the greater the disappointnt. Once their illusions were systematically shattered, their morale collapsed entirely. Retreat had beco inevitable.
After a mont of stunned silence, Tignani began to laugh. "Unbelievable," he said. "A fortress that others considered unconquerable—you managed to capture it in just two days!"
"It's still too soon to declare victory, General," Charles responded quietly. "This was only the Germans' first defensive line. They still have their second line and the fortress of Namur itself."
He referred to the Germans' defensive depth. Additionally, their tank units had yet to appear. Most importantly, the Germans could use Namur city itself as a battleground for urban combat. Charles genuinely worried about this—not only because of urban combat's inherent complexity but also because the presence of large numbers of Belgian civilians in the city would inevitably result in significant collateral damage, forcing French troops to act with extre caution.
Yet, even before Charles could fully contemplate his strategy, reports ca flooding in from the signalers:
"General! The Germans have abandoned the second defensive line!"
"General! The Germans have withdrawn from Namur fortress!"
"The Germans are retreating on all fronts—including Namur city itself!"
Charles stared blankly for a mont, astonished by their rapid retreat. There wasn't even enough ti to launch a proper pursuit.
Tignani laughed heartily. "General, you only considered the challenges we'd face fighting within Namur city itself, but you didn't think about how challenging urban warfare would be for the Germans."
After so thought, Charles agreed.
The city was filled with Belgians, including nurous guerrillas. Urban warfare in Namur would indeed prove far more difficult for the Germans than for the French.
"General! General!" ca the excited shouts of Albert I from outside the command post.
Monts later, Albert I, accompanied by Brigadier General Eden, hurriedly entered the bunker. Upon seeing Charles, Albert quickened his pace and warmly embraced him, his voice trembling with excitent:
"Wonderful, General! You're truly fighting to liberate Namur! I thought this might have been false news again, just like last ti, but it's actually real!"
"Sorry, Your Majesty," Charles said, sowhat embarrassed. "I didn't inform you in advance."
"No, no," Albert replied cheerfully. "I understand—secrecy was essential."
Brigadier General Eden stepped forward, saluting smartly: "General, Belgium's First Special Forces Regint is ready. They're stationed in Mons, ready for your orders!"
Charles scratched his head awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Brigadier General. The battle...seems to have already ended."
"What?!" Albert and Eden exchanged astonished glances, having believed it had only just begun.
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