"Fire!"
"Fire!"
The orders echoed down the line, and the cannons at Fort Wavre roared to life.
Fort Wavre, a pentagon-shaped stronghold, was equipped with a range of artillery: two 150mm cannons, four 120mm cannons, two 200mm mortars, and four 77mm Krupp rapid-fire guns. Together, these ford a system of long, dium, and short-range firepower, intended to provide full coverage against any enemy advancing on the fort. Yet in practice, they had proven largely ineffective.
But now, the 150mm and 120mm cannons were finally in action, divided into two groups and targeting two enemy positions.
The first shots missed, so shells landing short, others overshooting.
Still, the sight of explosions nearby created panic among the German troops. This proved they had been deceived—they had foolishly dragged Big Bertha into enemy range, walking straight into a trap.
The horses, spooked by the blasts, reared up with loud whinnies, and the handlers scrambled to calm them.
Everyone understood this was a precarious situation. Unlike warhorses, pack animals hadn't been trained to endure the chaos of battle. For now, they were barely under control, but that could change at any mont. And given the imnse size of the cannon and its team, they knew escape was unlikely.
All eyes turned to Beseler.
The logical decision would be to cut the ropes and abandon Big Bertha to save the hundreds of horses.
But General Beseler refused to give in. He shouted, "Turn around! Hold formation!"
"Send in the Third Artillery Regint! Suppress their fire!"
Beseler hoped the Third Artillery Regint could draw Fort Wavre's fire, buying ti to save Big Bertha.
He seed to have forgotten that Fort Wavre was designed to withstand direct hits from 150mm howitzers. It had even been reinforced twice since then, making it nearly invulnerable to anything short of Big Bertha's own firepower.
Thus, Fort Wavre's gunners ignored the "suppression fire" and focused exclusively on Big Bertha.
"Boom! Boom!"
The second round of shells landed closer, though still not direct hits.
From the balloon above, Albert I watched through his binoculars, a touch of frustration in his voice: "Damn, they can't even hit a target right in front of them!"
"Patience, Your Majesty," Charles replied calmly. "They're within our range for at least two kiloters, which at their speed gives us about thirty minutes. There's no rush."
Albert nodded, aware that Big Bertha's destruction was only a matter of ti, yet eager to witness the mont it was obliterated.
Finally, in the third barrage, a shell exploded amidst the dense cluster of horses, instantly reducing a dozen to bloody remains. Several others, injured by shrapnel or the blast's shockwave, fell to the ground, shrieking in agony.
The remaining horses, utterly panicked, beca uncontrollable. They thrashed wildly, and despite the handlers' best efforts, soon veered off course.
Big Bertha, swaying with the frantic movents of the horses, finally toppled over with a heavy crash, creating a deep crater in the muddy ground.
Albert waved his flag excitedly, shouting down to the people below, "We've taken out one of their cannons!"
A triumphant cheer erupted from the crowd.
With one cannon down, Fort Wavre could now focus all six guns on the remaining Big Bertha.
At last, General Beseler recognized that the situation was beyond saving and shouted, "Cut the ropes! Retreat!"
But it was too late. Shell after shell continued to rain down, growing more accurate with each strike. Soon, a direct hit landed on the remaining Big Bertha. As the dust cleared, the enormous cannon lay intact, its barrel still undamaged, but the supporting parts lay shattered around it.
Albert shouted again, "Victory! We've destroyed them both!"
Cheers and celebrations spread through the crowd. People threw their hats in the air, embracing one another with joy.
To them, this was more than just a victory; it was survival. These civilians wanted only the simple right to live in peace.
Artillery fire continued to thunder as shell after shell sent German soldiers and horses flying. At last, the German forces broke, abandoning the remnants of their cannons and dead horses as they fled in panic.
Albert, losing interest in the fight, was eager to celebrate with his people.
As the balloon descended, a cheer went up from the crowd below.
The mont Charles stepped out of the basket, he found himself surrounded by an outpouring of gratitude and admiration. Joyful faces and grateful eyes pressed in, with people reaching forward to shake his hand or offer words of thanks:
"You're our hero, Charles!"
"Once again, you've defeated the Germans!"
"You saved us. Thank you!"
...
Albert I, seemingly prepared for this, drew a box from his coat and held it up for the crowd to see. "I hereby announce, in recognition of the Lieutenant's exceptional performance in the defense of Antwerp, that I, King Albert of Belgium, award him the Royal Order of the Crown!"
(Note: The Royal Order of the Crown is one of Belgium's three great national orders of knighthood and one of the highest honors under Belgian law. Established in 1897, it is awarded to individuals who have made significant contributions to the country and society.)
Another wave of cheers erupted as people offered congratulations to Charles.
Albert I carefully took out the dal and pinned it to Charles's chest. Holding Charles's hand firmly, he said with emotion, "You will always be our friend, Lieutenant. We will never forget all you have done for Belgium."
"Thank you," Charles replied.
Thinking back, he realized he'd only given a few suggestions.
Suddenly, a distant boom echoed across the field, bringing the celebratory atmosphere to a halt as everyone turned to the source of the sound.
They recognized it instantly as the sound of Big Bertha's fire.
Albert's face filled with confusion. "It's impossible. We've destroyed Big Bertha—all of them!"
At that mont, a guard rushed up, saluting as he delivered a shaken report: "Your Majesty, a third Big Bertha has appeared. It's bombarding Fort Wavre from beyond our range!"
Everyone stood in stunned silence.
A third Big Bertha ant that victory had not only slipped away but had abruptly turned into defeat.
Charles's strategy could not be replicated—the Germans would not be fooled a second ti.
(End of Chapter)
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