At half-past four in the morning, Charles' forces arrived early at Hasselt.
Charles originally planned to rest for two hours and then launch the attack at dawn, as urban warfare in darkness was extrely disadvantageous to tanks. Hidden within buildings and ruins, enemy soldiers could easily throw bundles of grenades to disable tanks.
However, upon reaching Hasselt, Charles found this unnecessary.
Even before the army entered the city, Hasselt was already engulfed in chaos with gunfire everywhere.
Many buildings had been set ablaze, turning the entire city into a massive torch. Belgian citizens were running through the streets, cheering, and occasionally beating isolated German soldiers who were unfortunate enough to be caught alone.
When the French forces arrived, the Belgian people welcod them enthusiastically, ard with various weapons—so carried rifles, others wooden sticks, farming tools, or kitchen knives.
Tijani remained cautious and dispatched officers to inquire about the situation, but after questioning more than a dozen people, the answers he received were wildly inconsistent:
"Hurry, friends, the Germans are about to escape!"
"They have established a defensive line in the city; we can't break through!"
"I heard the Germans are bringing reinforcents for a counterattack, be careful!"
Eventually, Tijani gave up on asking, realizing that if he continued, he might end up with a hundred different answers. Without a clear picture of the situation, he did not dare act rashly.
It wasn't until half an hour later that a militia leader, who had infiltrated the city earlier, ca forward himself upon learning of Charles' arrival.
He was an officer dressed as a civilian, yet wore a military cap and carried a pistol. Upon being presented to Charles, he excitedly reported:
"It's an honor to et you, General."
"We've captured a part of the railway station and ard the citizens using the weapons we seized."
"We control most of the city now, but so Germans are still holding out stubbornly at the railway station and the city hall."
Tijani spread a map out in front of him, asking: "Can you pinpoint exactly where the enemy is, and their numbers?"
The militia leader stared at the map, hesitated for a long mont, then shook his head helplessly.
"It's chaos, General. So buildings… we aren't even sure if they're held by Germans or our own people."
Tijani shrugged helplessly and cast a glance at Charles.
The information was too limited; the army still didn't know where to attack.
Charles understood this confusion perfectly. Night-ti street battles were complicated enough to bewilder regular troops, let alone militia and ard civilians. It was fortunate they hadn't mistakenly fought each other—or perhaps they already had, more than once—but it was conveniently blad on the Germans.
"Send the tanks," Charles ordered decisively.
"General," Tijani hastily objected, "this could cause unnecessary casualties. We should wait until dawn."
At night, tanks would be ineffective and beco easy targets for the enemy.
But Charles insisted on his approach:
"We need to end this quickly, to prevent any unexpected trouble."
"If the Germans are holding buildings, the tanks will be effective."
"We won't attack as a single unit. Instead, disperse the tanks into militia groups, and have militia lead them to attack points where they're encountering resistance."
The militia might not have been able to give an overview on the map, but at each individual point of conflict, they knew exactly where they were stopped and couldn't advance.
The battle unfolded exactly as Charles anticipated. Once the tanks joined the militia, the offensive moved swiftly. By the first light of dawn, Hasselt was fully under French control amid cheering crowds.
The captured supplies exceeded all expectations.
The railway station had twenty-three large underground warehouses, fully stocked with goods—food, rifles, ammunition, and countless other military supplies. Among these warehouses, five were filled with fuel for tanks and aircraft, relieving the First Armored Army's imdiate fuel concerns.
Charles soon brought in additional fighter planes to form a network with those at Brussels and Namur, blocking the escape routes for German aircraft.
…
In Amsterdam, the Dutch capital—once just a small fishing village in the 12th century, now the largest city and major port of the Netherlands—Queen Wilhelmina stood at her office window gazing at the snowy landscape outside. Holding a glass of wine, she gently swirled it in her hand.
Her mood resembled the falling snow, covering all ugliness and leaving only beauty visible.
The war had now dragged into its third year, yet Queen Wilhelmina had little knowledge of battlefield developnts. Even Charles, whose na was now resounding throughout Europe, was just soone she'd vaguely heard ntioned.
As a neutral country, the Netherlands had no intention of becoming involved in a conflict that didn't concern it. Thus, the queen found it best not to pay attention. She even feared that by paying attention, the country might inadvertently be drawn in.
The sharp clicking of high heels echoed behind her, indicating her secretary was approaching hurriedly. Wilhelmina didn't turn around, believing that as long as the Netherlands didn't participate, there shouldn't be any insurmountable problems.
Yet trouble still found its way to her doorstep.
"Your Majesty," Secretary Louise reported, "the German ambassador wishes to speak with you."
The queen frowned slightly, asking, "About what?"
"I believe the Germans wish to cross through Dutch territory," Louise replied.
The queen spun around, her face filled with astonishnt.
Louise handed her a docunt and explained as the queen read: "Last night, Charles' First Armored Army encircled more than 200,000 German soldiers. Now the Germans have only two options to escape—either break through Charles' defenses or…"
"Cross through the Netherlands?" The queen saw the map clearly illustrating the hopeless position of the Germans.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Queen Wilhelmina felt a chill pass over her face, like a cold breeze. Damned Charles! He shouldn't have used the Dutch border to trap the Germans. He must have known it would bring trouble to the Netherlands.
What now?
"Your Majesty," Louise reminded, "the German ambassador is waiting outside."
The queen hesitated for a mont, then replied, "Tell him to co later, I'm busy now!"
Louise shook her head helplessly, "I already told him that, but he insists on waiting."
"Then let him in!" The queen sighed inwardly.
She suddenly regretted not having planned a diplomatic trip abroad for a few days. She should have been paying more attention to the war, especially as the battlefield drew closer to the Netherlands.
(End of Chapter 611)
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