Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 167 Loss of Contact
Even before the smoke from the explosion had cleared, more grenades suddenly flew out from the thick smoke that shrouded the bridge.

Those dark, lumps of iron rained down on the small area at the south bank of the bridge.

Immediately following this, there was another series of violent explosions.

The ball grenades currently in service with the Saxon Army are not particularly powerful, but the sheer number of them thrown by the soldiers in the training assault battalion is enough to keep them in service.
Boom boom boom!

The makeshift sandbag barricades caused sand and dust to fly everywhere nearby.

The soldiers who survived the grenade barrage were completely stunned by the terrifying explosions; who throws grenades like that during a war?
"Da da da da da!"

Just then, the sound of submachine gun fire rang out from within the smoke.

Dozens of soldiers dressed in Saxon uniforms burst out like demons from the smoke and opened fire in their direction.

Bullets rained down like they were free, hitting the sandbags that were blocking Philip's path with muffled thuds.

The sandbag was quickly torn open, and the sand inside flowed out continuously.

"Were they all carrying a heavy machine gun by one person?!"

Philip, who was pinned down behind a makeshift barricade, lay on the ground listening to the sandbags in front of him being hit repeatedly and couldn't help but complain.

This firepower density is outrageous!
He had never seen a war like this in his entire life!
Several nearby soldiers, under the orders of their squad leaders, attempted to peek out from behind their bunkers and fire back.

But as soon as they poked their heads out, a series of blood flowers burst from their heads and upper bodies, and they collapsed to the ground like rag dolls.

Blood and brain matter splattered all over the faces of his comrades.

This horrific scene completely shattered the courage of the remaining people.

No one dared to stick their head out and exchange fire with the Saxons anymore, because it wasn't a firefight at all; it was a one-sided suicide mission!

The Saxons' suppressive fire seemed endless.

After the main force rushed across the bridge, Morin immediately directed two machine gunners to set up two MG14 light machine guns on a second-floor window opposite the barricade, completely blocking the barricade.

"Da-da! Da-da-da!"

Two light machine guns took turns firing short, precise bursts, relentlessly suppressing the remaining defenders behind the barricades.

At the same time, the soldiers of the 1st Platoon of the 2nd Company quickly dispersed according to the assault tactics they had practiced countless times.

Working in small teams of 20, they took turns providing cover, staying close to the buildings on both sides of the street, and quickly closed the distance to about 20 meters.

"Grenade!"

At the platoon leader's command, more than a dozen grenades were thrown into the barricade that was already riddled with holes.

"Boom boom boom!"

The new round of explosions completely extinguished Philip and his soldiers' will to resist.

The shockwave from the explosion sent Major Philip flying, crashing heavily into the wall behind him and instantly losing consciousness, his fate unknown.

The soldiers who survived the grenade rain hadn't even recovered from the dizziness of the explosions when they saw a group of Saxon soldiers rushing towards them.

They were met with the dark muzzles of submachine guns and a dense hail of bullets.

The battle ended in just over ten seconds.

The Flanders soldiers responsible for covering the rear, along with their commander, Major Philip, were easily dealt with by the 1st Platoon of the 2nd Company in a swift and decisive manner.

Morin strode across the still-smoking bridge and arrived at the south bank.

Looking at the devastated battlefield and the corpses scattered on the ground, he felt no relief whatsoever.

On the system map, the red soldier badges representing Flanders soldiers have not disappeared.

On the contrary, a large number of red soldier tokens have been broken up and scattered in various corners of the South City. Moreover, because they have lost sight of each other, Morin can only see the last place where they disappeared.

"So they really intend to fight us in urban warfare?"

Morin muttered to himself.

He knew very well that with the firepower and training level of the training assault battalion, dealing with these fleeing soldiers would not be a problem.

The problem is that he only has one company of soldiers at hand.

If all troops are committed to the battle to wipe out the remaining enemy forces in the southern city, the safety of the other two bridges cannot be guaranteed.

The losses would be enormous if those two bridges were blown up by the enemy hiding in the shadows.

After weighing the pros and cons, Morin made a decisive decision.

The company commander had already led the other two platoons to split into two groups to take control of the other two bridges over the Sambur River.

So what he has to do now is lead the remaining platoon, along with the 1st Platoon of the 1st Company who went forward to reconnoiter, to guard this most important central bridge and wait for the arrival of follow-up troops.

Soon, gunshots rang out from the directions of the other two bridges.

However, the gunfire was not intense and quickly subsided.

On the system map, the green soldier cards representing the two platoons of the 2nd Company quickly annihilated the small number of red enemy soldier cards near the two bridges.

All three bridges have been successfully brought under control!

Mo Lin's anxiety was finally relieved.

He glanced at his watch; almost twenty minutes had passed since he sent the messenger back to report the news.

Logically, the messenger should have already arrived at the temporary camp.

"Hopefully, that guy Kleist can think faster."

Morin stood at the bridgehead, gazing towards the north of the city, silently praying. He had very limited troops at his disposal and desperately needed the support of the main force.

Meanwhile, the messenger sent by Morin rode his horse at full speed and returned to the woodland three kilometers north of Charleroi in just about ten minutes.

"Commander Kleist! The battalion commander orders! The main force must immediately advance towards Charleroi! The enemy is attempting to destroy the bridge!"

The messenger dismounted and, before he could even catch his breath, relayed Morin's order to Kleist, who was directing his troops to build the camp's defensive line.

Upon hearing this news, both Kleist and Manstein, who was standing next to him, changed their expressions.

Kleist's mind was racing.

He made the right judgment almost without hesitation.

"Lieutenant Manstein!"

He shouted:
"You immediately take the 3rd Company, and the remaining soldiers of the 1st Company, and ride in one of those trucks that haven't come in yet! Head to the North City as fast as you can to support the battalion commander!"

"Yes!"

Without wasting any words, Manstein turned around and went to assemble his troops.

"Communications platoon! Set up antennas immediately! Attempt to contact the battle group command!"

Kleist then yelled at the communications platoon leader on the other side.

"Supply Company! Bring all the wagons over; we're probably going to resupply ammunition up ahead! 4th Company, continue with the outer perimeter guard!"

One command after another was issued methodically from Kleist's mouth.

This battalion adjutant, who usually just followed Morin step by step, demonstrated amazing command ability and decisiveness at a critical moment.

Watching the twenty-odd trucks, laden with black smoke, speeding towards Charleroi, Kleist quickly got the other vehicles to stop.

He walked over to the communications platoon, who were frantically setting up antennas, and asked anxiously.

"How is it? Have you made contact?"

The communications platoon leader wiped the sweat from his brow, shook his head, and looked utterly helpless.

"No, sir. This place is too far from Liège, well beyond the range of our radio! That's why we couldn't get in touch yesterday."

"We tried for ages, but we couldn't get a single signal!"

"Damn it!"

Klay T. muttered a curse under his breath.

He realized that they had now completely lost contact with the main force behind them.

The training assault battalion appears to have become an isolated force.
"The battle group must be informed of Charleroi's situation!"

The thought flashed through Kleist's mind in an instant.

He knew very well why Morin had led the entire battalion here at such a frenzied pace.

The purpose was to seize Charleroi before the enemy could react, thus opening a path for the subsequent offensive of the entire battle group and even the entire Second Army.

Now, they have successfully arrived and have already engaged the enemy in battle.

But they also became a completely isolated force.

Once the enemy, especially the main force of the Gauls, reacts and launches a counterattack, it will be impossible for the training assault battalion alone to defend the city.

At that point, let alone opening a passage for the main force, their own survival would be in question.

Therefore, we must contact General Ludendorff as soon as possible, let him know what is happening here, and ask him to send the main force to catch up as soon as possible!
With that in mind, Kleist no longer hesitated.

He immediately located the combat group's supply officer who was in charge of assisting with vehicle management.

"Lieutenant, I need your help!"

Kleist's tone was very serious.

"Find me two trucks in the best condition right now!"

The supply officer had clearly sensed the tense atmosphere. Without asking any questions, he immediately led several drivers to select the two best-condition trucks from the remaining fleet.

"Go to the communications platoon and find a few messengers who can ride horses!"

Kleist then gave orders to his adjutant.

Soon, three Saxon soldiers from the battalion's communications platoon, serving as messenger cavalry, led their horses to Kleist.

"You three, immediately follow these two trucks back to Liege at full speed, along the route we came from!"

Kleist looked at the three soldiers in front of him and said in a solemn tone.

"If you encounter vehicle breakdowns or enemy ambush on the road, immediately continue on horseback!"

"You have only one mission!"

He emphasized his tone.

"That is to return to the Liege fortress at all costs and deliver the military intelligence of Charleroi to General Ludendorff!"

"Yes, sir!"

The three messengers straightened their chests and answered loudly.

They knew that this mission was a matter of life and death for the entire training assault battalion.

(End of this chapter)