Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 149 The First Battle of the Training Assault Battalion

Morin took the order, opened it, and saw that the content of the order was very simple:
Due to excessive consumption of supplies at the front, a large supply train needs to be organized immediately to deliver ammunition and supplies to the attack assembly area of ​​the 'Meuse River Combat Group' under the cover of night—the training assault battalion is responsible for guarding the route.

The order also required that the training assault battalion directly join the 'Meuse River Combat Group' after completing its escort mission.

Because of the heavy casualties in today's offensive, General Bilo hopes that the training battalion can help stabilize the front line and prevent the enemy from launching a counterattack at night and breaking through the entire battle group's line.

This order finally freed the training assault battalion from its status as a 'water cooler' or 'coffee pot'.

But Morin was anything but happy. After seeing the casualties among the frontline troops, probably no one could be happy.

After delivering the official orders, the messenger took out an envelope sealed with sealing wax from his pocket and handed it to Morin separately.

"Captain, this is a personal letter from General Bilo to you."

Morin took the letter, feeling somewhat uneasy.

What's this old general up to? Why can't he say it in the order, and instead has to write a separate letter?
He opened the envelope and, by the dim light of the kerosene lamp, began to read it.

The letter was written by General Bilo himself, with strong and vigorous handwriting, but the contents of the letter made Morin burst out laughing after reading it.

The letter was short, but it essentially said that he knew the training assault battalion was an elite force valued by the General Staff and was also the Crown Prince's prized possession.

The main reason for sending you to the front lines this time is to stabilize morale and bolster the courage of those troops who have been terrified of being defeated.

Therefore, he hoped that Morin would be cautious in the battle, avoid reckless advances, and simply move the troops to a safe position to avoid unnecessary casualties.
"Sir, what did the general say?" Manstein and Kleist came over and asked curiously.

"It's nothing. The general praised us as the hope of the empire, the pillars of the future, and told us to fight well, to fight with might and spirit!"

Morin handed them the letter without batting an eye.

The two men took the letter and their expressions immediately turned as ugly as if they had swallowed a fly.

"What...what does this mean?" Kleist's eyes widened. "We're just going to go up there and watch?"

"'Don't be reckless,' 'Avoid unnecessary casualties'?"

Manstein was so angry that his face turned red.

"He's insulting us! What does he take us for? A group of honor guards who can only march in formation on the parade ground?"

Seeing the two men's indignant expressions, Morin smiled and took the letter back from Manstein's hand.

"Alright, don't get agitated. The old general meant well; he was afraid we'd get ourselves killed in the process."

As he spoke, he took out a match and lit a corner of the letter.

"Sir, what's going on?" Kleist and Manstein were both stunned.

"Burn it," Morin said matter-of-factly. "Can we keep this kind of letter? What if someone finds it someday and says we're cowardly and hesitant to fight? That would be court-martial. Besides, things change in an instant on the battlefield. How can we completely follow the orders from the rear command?"

He watched the letter turn to ashes in the flames, then continued speaking to the two men:

"Alright, stop thinking about it and get ready to go! The orders are for us to escort the supply train and then hold the line. As for how to hold it, that's up to us."

His tone was flat, but both Kleist and Manstein detected a subtle difference in his voice.

They exchanged a glance and both saw a hint of excitement in each other's eyes.

They knew that their battalion commander was never one to play by the rules.

The escort of the supply convoy went exceptionally smoothly, with the cover of night providing excellent protection.

The large convoy, escorted by the training assault battalion, moved silently toward the front lines along the dirt roads common in rural areas.

The Flanders soldiers who had retreated to the fortress did not seem to have any intention of sending out troops for night raids.

They were probably too frightened by the bloody battle during the day and just wanted to stay peacefully in their turtle shells.

In the early hours of the morning, the convoy successfully arrived at the assembly area of ​​the 'Meuse River Combat Group'.

The situation here is not much better than that of the field hospitals in the rear.

The air was thick with the stench of blood, and everywhere were exhausted and dejected soldiers.

After Morin directed his troops to complete the handover of supplies, he did not immediately send them to the front lines. Instead, he found a relatively secluded grove of trees and allowed the troops to rest temporarily.

Then he himself, along with Manstein and the soldiers of the 1st Company, quietly moved to the flank and rear of the attack zone.

He wanted to see for himself just how bad the situation was on the front lines.

Not long after he arrived, he saw about three battalions of Saxon soldiers regrouping under the urging of their officers.

"What are they going to do? Are they going to attack again?" Manstein asked in a low voice.

“It seems so.” Morin raised his binoculars. “Has General Emish gone mad? Such heavy casualties during the day, and he’s still sending troops at night… I mean, launching an attack?”

As soon as he finished speaking, the soldiers of the three battalions, led by their respective commanders, dispersed and charged toward Baxiong Fortress under the cover of night.

The first half went smoothly; the attacking force even silently approached within 400 meters of the fortress.

Just when everyone thought the night raid would succeed, another unexpected event occurred.

Suddenly, more than a dozen blinding beams of searchlight lit up the direction of Baxiong Fortress.

These beams of light instantly pierced the night sky, illuminating the attack area as if it were daytime.

Immediately afterwards, several more flares were fired overhead, revealing the panicked Saxon soldiers in a stark white light. The next second, hell descended.

Countless tongues of fire erupted from the Baxiong Fortress and the surrounding trenches.

All the weapons that could fire were unleashing a deluge of ammunition at the illuminated area.

The soldiers at the forefront were instantly riddled with bullets.

Those behind tried to run, but found themselves completely exposed to enemy fire with nowhere to hide.

Screams and wails echoed through the night sky.

Through his binoculars, Morin watched as the three battalions of soldiers were decimated in just a few minutes.

“It’s over.” Manstein’s voice trembled.

This is no longer a battle; it's a one-sided massacre.

Those who survived no longer cared about the attack orders and fled back, crying out in despair.

The entire attack completely collapsed.

“This is a complete disaster.” Morin put down his binoculars, his face ashen.

Manstein, who was standing next to him, was also pale-faced and his lips were trembling.

Although he had participated in several large-scale exercises at the General Staff Headquarters, exercises are just exercises, and they are completely different from the bloody real battlefield in front of him.

"Sir...we..." He tried to say something, but found himself unable to utter a single word.

Maureen ignored him because he realized the situation seemed to be getting worse.

The night raid failed, the Saxon attacking force collapsed, and the soldiers of the United Kingdom of Flanders were greatly encouraged after repelling the night raid.

Suddenly, a series of charging whistles came from the direction of Baxiong Fortress.

Immediately afterwards, large numbers of Flemish soldiers, rifles in hand and shouting, rushed out of their trenches and fortifications and launched a counter-charge against the fleeing Saxon soldiers.

"Damn it, this is bad!" Morin cursed inwardly.

The three battalions of Saxon troops had already suffered heavy losses and their morale had collapsed. Now, with the enemy launching such a counterattack, they had no chance of organizing an effective defense.

Once the enemy rushes up and entangles them, not only will these three battalions be annihilated, but the entire 'Meuse River Battle Group' line could also be broken.

At that time, it will be a complete and utter defeat.

We can't let them succeed!
"Commander!"

Without hesitation, Morin shouted to a messenger from the 1st Company beside him, "Return to camp immediately and inform Lieutenant Kleist to lead the main force forward to provide support! Hurry!"

"Yes, sir!"

The soldier accepted the order and turned to run back.

After giving the order, Morin grabbed Manstein, who was still in a daze.

"Don't just stand there! Come with me!"

He led Manstein and the remaining soldiers of the 1st Company, quickly maneuvering towards the right flank of the enemy's counter-offensive force.

They quickly found a grove of trees in a perfect location.

During the daytime, this sparse grove of trees would not provide much cover.

But it was nighttime, and the sparse grove of trees could completely conceal the soldiers of the 1st Company.

In the distance, the Flanders' counter-offensive force was charging across the open ground, howling with rage.

"1st Company! Deploy on the spot, in platoons! Quickly!"

Morin lowered his voice and gave the order—it's worth mentioning that the 1st Company has not yet had a formal company commander appointed, and Sergeant Major Klaus is temporarily serving as the acting company commander.

In fact, Molin had changed company commanders several times, but the new company commanders could not get along well. In addition, the troops suddenly set off, so they had to give up for the time being.

The soldiers of the 1st Company were all veterans who had been through the mountains of corpses and seas of blood in Aragon. Their psychological qualities and tactical skills were unmatched by the soldiers of the other three companies.

Upon hearing the order, they did not panic at all and immediately formed combat formations at the edge of the woods, organized into squads.

According to the current firepower configuration of the training assault battalion, in addition to the regular Gew.98 rifles, each of the four squads of an infantry platoon is equipped with one MG14 light machine gun, and there are eight MP14 submachine guns in the 20 men of the squad.

In other words, the entire company's automatic firepower consisted of 12 light machine guns and 96 submachine guns, a firepower density that was completely unimaginable for other infantry companies of the same era.

The Flemish counter-offensive force was completely unaware that a hungry tiger was lurking on their flank, its jaws wide open.

They seemed very excited and enthusiastic.

The searchlights on the Basshon fortress illuminated the fleeing Saxon soldiers ahead, but also clearly exposed their own figures to Morin's gunfire.

"Wait until they get a little closer." Morin lay on the ground, staring intently at the approaching enemy through his binoculars.

"Fire!"

When the enemy's vanguard rushed to within a hundred meters of the woods, Morin decisively gave the order to open fire.

(End of this chapter)