Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 145 The Schlieffen Plan: Enhanced Power
When Morin gave the order to assemble, the sharp assembly whistle shattered the tranquility of the camp, and the entire training assault battalion sprang into action like a precision machine that had been instantly activated.

The soldiers rushed out of their dormitories and quickly lined up on the training ground.

The company commanders and sergeants loudly relayed the orders, their expressions more serious than ever before.

The soldiers, who were originally immersed in the excitement and anxiety of the impending war, now truly felt the suffocating pressure of the impending battle.

Maureen stood by the office window, looking at the bustling scene below.

He could see that the young soldiers' faces were a mixture of tension, excitement, and a barely perceptible fear.

Not long after, a second order came from the General Staff.

"The 1st Training Assault Battalion of the Imperial Guard, depart immediately! Proceed to the military railway station outside Dresden and join the Second Army under the command of General Carl von Bülow, and move toward the border of the United Kingdom of Saxony and Flanders."

The command is brief, but contains a wealth of information.

"Western Front, Second Army." Morin looked at the telegram, his eyes becoming deep.

It seems that the General Staff's plan is indeed similar to the 'Schlieffen Project' in another timeline.

The first phase of mobilization had already begun after the mobilization order was officially issued at 5 p.m. that day.

The military railway and personnel departments needed to transport troops are fully in place, and ammunition depots, supply depots, and border fortresses along the entire route are on high alert.

Border troops on the front lines were also put into combat positions, reservists were called to the front lines, and officer cadet training was abruptly halted. They were quickly appointed and then sent to fill numerous vacant command positions.

The General Staff of the Saxon Empire was the 'architect' of a series of astonishing victories for the empire, beginning in the 1860s.

This series of victories culminated in the 'Sagaau War' of 1870-1871.

The most important contribution of the General Staff to improving the combat effectiveness of the Saxon Army was its responsibility to formulate annual mobilization and deployment plans, which were revised every year based on the actual situation.

These tasks include setting up assembly areas, refining operational strategies, and, most complexly, developing intricate rail transport timetables for the massive force in the context of a mobilization order.

As one of those being transported by rail at this moment, Morin deeply appreciated the mobilization efficiency of the Saxon Empire and the convenience of its nationwide railway network.

According to the plan, they will board the train on the evening of August 1 and arrive in the border city of Aachen on August 3 to complete their assembly before crossing the border to fight.

Meanwhile, information gleaned from other military railway officers and personnel in the mobilization department kept the "Intelligence" tab of the cheat device constantly updating the Saxon Empire's almost frantic mobilization situation.

Every 10 minutes, a train full of soldiers and equipment roars across the Cologne-Wettin Bridge over the Rhine.

This "technical ballet," meticulously planned by the General Staff down to the minute, will enable 20800 transport trains to smoothly transport the first batch of 166 million soldiers, 11.8 horses, thousands of vehicles, and 40 tons of supplies to various assembly points in a short period of time.

The General Staff's overall strategy did not surprise Morin; it still stemmed from the 'Schlieffen Plan'.

With a powerful punch rallied on the right wing, the French army swiftly swept across northern Gaul like a giant revolving door after rapidly traversing the United Kingdom of Flanders, capturing Paris and encircling the main Gallo army forces in the south.

This time, with the threat on the eastern front greatly reduced and the Western Lucia Provisional National Government as an ally, the General Staff believed that there would be no crisis on the eastern front in the short term.

Moreover, after the international brigade of the Kingdom of Aragon returned home one after another, the combat effectiveness of the army of the Provisional National Government of Western Lucia was greatly enhanced after receiving this injection of 'blood' with practical experience.

These factors have brought the total troop strength on the western front to eight army groups, while the eastern front is temporarily defended by border troops and mobilized reserves.

Aside from the addition of an extra army group on the western front, the selection of generals for each army group also differed somewhat from the world before Morin's transmigration.

After returning home from the war in the Kingdom of Aragon, General Mackensen was quickly promoted to Army General due to his outstanding performance.

Chief of the General Staff Moltke the Younger recognized the offensive capabilities demonstrated by this veteran general in mobile warfare, so he put him in charge of the First Army Group, which consisted of 32 men.

The Second, Third, and Fourth Armies were commanded by Carl von Bülow, Max von Hausen, and Duke Albrecht.

The Second Army Group has a total of 26 troops, while the Third and Fourth Armies each have 18 troops.

The above four army groups will also become a powerful right hook.

The Fifth and Sixth Armies, commanded by Crown Prince George and Bavarian Crown Prince Rupprecht respectively, consisted of 20 and 22 troops. They were tasked with advancing through the Ardennes Forest and then from the center to tie down the Gauls' forces.

Finally, there were the 7th and 8th Armies, totaling 300,000 men, commanded by Josias von Herlingen and Alexander von Kluge, who were tasked with defensive operations in Alsace-Lorraine.

Before the right hook lands on the Gauls, these two army groups will also face the main attack of the Gallic army, making them the pressure-bearing positions on the entire western front.

As dawn broke, the train carrying the training battalion soldiers stopped at a temporary rest stop to replenish fuel and water.

The soldiers were allowed to get out of the vehicle and stretch their bodies.

Morin also stepped off the train, breathing in the cool morning air.

He saw the soldiers gathered in twos and threes, eating their rations and talking in hushed tones.

The tension they had felt at the start of the trip was gone from their faces; instead, there was an expectation for the future and a hint of barely perceptible bewilderment.

Kleist came over and handed Morin a kettle filled with warm water—a habit he had learned from Klaus, Bowman, and others.

"Sir, everything is normal."

"Hmm." Morin nodded, took the water bottle and took a sip. "Tell all the companies to be on their toes. We're not far from Aachen."

"Yes!"

Just then, a rumbling sound came from the distant railway tracks again.

A train loaded with artillery, vehicles, and cavalry sped past them, heading forward.

The spectacular sight caused all the soldiers in the training assault battalion to stop what they were doing and stand there watching.

A strong sense of pride and participation arose spontaneously in everyone's heart.

They are part of this steel torrent, about to participate in a great war that will determine the fate of the empire.

Morin watched all this with utter calm in his heart.

He knew that these roaring trains were sending countless vibrant lives to a giant furnace.

And he, and the battalion behind him, are about to join the fight.
"After this battle, I wonder how many people will come back alive," Morin couldn't help but sigh to himself.

After a period of time, the train, having completed its resupply, started moving again, heading at full speed towards its final destination—Aachen.

On the evening of August 3, the train arrived in Aachen on time.

The platform was already crowded with logistics personnel and military police who came to welcome them.

Under the command of their officers, the soldiers of the training assault battalion quickly unloaded all their equipment and supplies.

After confirming that all personnel and supplies were in place, Morin received the latest order from the Second Army's forward command: the troops were to march immediately toward Witz, the point where the entire Second Army would cross the border.

Under the cover of night, long, gray snakes meander along the roads in the outskirts of Aachen.

The soldiers of the training assault battalion, carrying heavy packs, marched in orderly steps toward the town of Wiz in the northeast.

Despite the two-day train journey, their rigorous daily training kept them in good physical condition.

Apart from a few new recruits who were slightly tired, the morale of the entire unit remained high.

Morin rode on horseback, walking alongside Kleist and Manstein at the head of the procession.

He spread out the map and, by the light of the lantern Manstein was shining behind him, carefully studied the route ahead.

“Wiz,” he pointed to the town on the map, “is an important crossing point on the Meuse River and a node in the railway network connecting Saxony and the United Kingdom of Flanders.” “Choosing this as a breakthrough point is quite reasonable,” Manstein said from the side.

“But things will get tougher from here on out. How about we make a bet on the enemy’s next moves?” Morin suddenly asked, intrigued.

Manstein: "What bet, sir?"

Kleist: "You're the officer, how can we make a bet with you?"

You see, their completely different answers also reveal their completely different personalities.

However, Morin continued:

"I believe that once the troops cross the border, they will not encounter too much resistance. The army of the United Kingdom of Flanders should quickly retreat into the protection of the fortress complex and will not engage in open battle with us. The same should be true for the First Army."

“Complete non-resistance?” Manstein mused.

"Yes, the disparity in troop strength and personnel quality between the two sides is too great. Fighting in the open is suicide. We'll see tomorrow!"

The march lasted for half a night.

As dawn broke, the troops finally arrived at their designated assembly area outside the town of Wiz.

This place has been transformed into a massive military camp.

Countless tents were scattered like stars, with wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys, and the sounds of horses neighing and soldiers clamoring.

The 260,000-strong Second Army Group is converging here from all directions, as well as in several other assembly areas further behind, creating a truly magnificent scene.

The training assault battalion quickly set up camp in the pre-designated area.

After skillfully setting up tents, the soldiers did not rest like other units, but instead insisted on digging simple field fortifications and setting up sentry posts.

These regulations had already become a habit for them during the three months of training.

After arranging everything at the camp, Morin took Manstein to report to the Second Army's forward command post, which was not far away.

The command post was set up in a small manor that had been temporarily requisitioned.

Armed guards stood at the entrance, and staff officers hurried back and forth, all with serious expressions on their faces.

After Morin and Manstein identified themselves, they were led into the operations room of the manor's main building by a young adjutant.

As expected, the operations room was filled with smoke, and the atmosphere was somewhat tense.

A huge map covered the entire long table, and a dozen senior officers and staff officers were discussing something intensely around it.

At the head of the table, a tall, dignified old general listened to his subordinates' report with a furrowed brow.

He was General Carl von Bülow, the 66-year-old commander of the Second Army.

The adjutant stepped forward and whispered a few words in Bilo's ear.

Bilo raised his head and glanced at Morin and Manstein, who were standing in the doorway.

His eyes were sharp, with a hint of scrutiny.

"So you're Captain Friedrich Morin, the commander of the training assault battalion sent by the General Staff?" Bilo's voice was deep and powerful.

"Yes, General."

Morin stepped forward, stood at attention, and saluted.

"By order of the General Staff, the First Training Assault Battalion of the Imperial Guard is reporting for duty!"

Bilo nodded, indicating that they didn't need to be so formal.

“Very good, Captain Morin.”

He forced a polite smile onto his face.

"I am deeply honored that the General Staff has sent your elite troops to support my Second Army Group."

General Bilo treated Captain Morin with great respect, showing the Crown Prince and the General Staff the same respect he would show to an officer of equal rank.

After a few brief pleasantries, Morin, following procedure, gave Bilo and the staff present a brief introduction to the personnel composition, weaponry, and combat capabilities of the training assault battalion.

When the staff officers present heard that the battalion was equipped with a large proportion of fully automatic weapons and that every soldier had received rigorous assault training, they all showed expressions of surprise.

They whispered among themselves, filled with curiosity as they compared this 'new' unit.

General Bilo's expression remained unchanged after hearing the introduction.

He simply offered a string of polite platitudes, such as "We will certainly live up to His Majesty's expectations" and "We will surely win honor for the empire."

Morin listened patiently, but he already had the answer in his heart.

Sure enough, the final order came down.

"Captain Morin, you've had a long journey." Bilo waved his hand. "The troops will remain on standby for now and take a rest."

"Specific combat missions will be notified separately by the command headquarters based on the battle situation."

"Yes, Your Excellency!"

Morin showed no objection, saluted again, and then led Manstein out of the operations room.

As they walked back to camp, the moonlight cast long shadows of the two of them.

Manstein, who had been silent all along, finally couldn't help but speak up.

"Sir, I don't quite understand."

"Don't understand what?" Morin smiled and glanced at him.

"Why...do we have to stand by?" Manstein's tone was full of confusion and bewilderment.

"We are elite troops directly under the General Staff Headquarters, meant for fighting tough battles and tackling difficult tasks! Now that a formidable enemy is at hand and war is imminent, why are we being relegated to the rear?"

Seeing his young staff officer's frustrated expression, Morin found it somewhat amusing.

"Don't rush, Manstein."

He patted the other man on the shoulder—opportunities to pat a future marshal on the shoulder are rare.

"The war has only just begun; there are plenty of battles for you to fight."

"But."

"What do you think General Bilo is thinking right now?" Morin interrupted him, asking in return.

Manstein paused for a moment, then fell into deep thought.

“General Bilo.” Manstein frowned, trying to figure out what the army group commander was thinking.

"He might not have figured out how to use us yet?" he said uncertainly.

(End of this chapter)