Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 185 Pure People

From the perspective of the Gallic frontline commanders, the complete retreat of the training assault battalion proved that their tactics were sound.

So what if they have heavy machine guns and automatic weapons? Once a large number of brave infantry close the distance, won't they still have to retreat?
Therefore, when the Ninth Division headquarters learned that the second wave of attacks on Charleroi had been a great success, General Fournier, the division commander, did not hesitate to issue the order to continue the attack.

In response to the extremely fortified firing positions established by the training assault battalion within the city for infantry, General Fournier, on the advice of the division staff, also ordered a battalion of 12 guns from the 75th Magneto Field Artillery Regiment to participate in the attack inside the city.

However, the southern city of Charleroi was not very large, and the streets were only a few hundred meters deep in the north-south direction from which the Gallic soldiers launched their attack.

This also meant that the gun corps of these 12 75mm magic field guns actually fell within the firing range of some of the defending side's weapons, significantly increasing the level of danger.

However, the attacking side was clearly blinded by their previous victory, thinking that the training assault battalion had been driven back by them. Their morale was high, and they didn't consider many other issues.

Urged on by their officers, the Gallic soldiers continued to maintain their tight formation to 'maintain morale' as they charged into the heart of the defenses along the deserted streets.

The young soldiers advanced somewhat numbly, unaware of the abyss of despair that awaited them ahead.

De Gaulle, his hands also wrapped in bandages, led his surviving soldiers through the streets littered with corpses.

Although the medic told him that the arm pierced by the bayonet needed to be treated carefully, de Gaulle simply couldn't bring himself to leave his soldiers in the city and retreat to the rear alone.

So after the medic gave him some temporary treatment, he went back into battle.

The brief but intense battle just now cost him more than two-thirds of his men.

Those who survived were either wounded or covered in dust and had numb expressions.

When the Saxons suddenly abandoned their positions and retreated, they didn't even have time to react before their battalion commander urged them to continue the pursuit.

"The Saxons are doomed!"

"They must have run out of ammunition!"

"Charge! Victory is within reach!"

Perhaps because of the sudden progress after suffering heavy losses, the battalion commander became extremely enthusiastic.

But a deep unease rose in de Gaulle's heart; he felt that things were not so simple.
The Saxons retreated so calmly that they didn't seem like a defeated army at all; it was more like a planned tactical retreat.

If the retreat was planned, it means there must be an even more terrifying trap waiting for them inside Charleroi.

With this trepidation, de Gaulle and his soldiers passed through the ravaged first line of defense and continued their advance into the heart of the city.

Soon, de Gaulle realized that something seemed amiss.

Many alleys and lanes within the city are blocked by a large amount of barbed wire and obstacles, and it would take a lot of time to clear them.

So the troops, who originally planned to avoid the main roads, ended up back on the city's main roads as they walked.

"Why does it feel like the Saxons are deliberately leading us this way?"

The thought crossed De Gaulle's mind, but he felt it was far-fetched, as if the opposing commander had complete knowledge of their tactics and actions.
As they ventured deeper into the city, the surrounding streets became unusually quiet, with only their own footsteps and panting echoing around them.

This silence is more terrifying than a hail of bullets.

De Gaulle gripped his revolver tightly, cautiously observing his surroundings.

The soldiers in his company also nervously held their guns and moved forward step by step.

Suddenly, the soldier at the front stopped.

"Company commander, there's something ahead!"

De Gaulle immediately strode forward, and when he saw the scene on the street ahead, he was horrified.

Just a few dozen meters ahead, on the main road, a series of obstacles made of barbed wire blocked the entire street.

The barbed wire was a dark gray color, gleaming coldly in the shadows, and its barbs were so sharp and dense that one had no doubt that they could easily tear a person's flesh.

The barbed wire was arranged in a very layered manner, one layer after another, forming a complex maze.

They divide the wide streets into narrow and winding passages that seem to stretch as far as the eye can see.

"What the hell is this?"

The soldiers were stunned; they had never seen such a large-scale and complex barbed wire array.

And it's in the middle of a narrow city street.

De Gaulle finally understood why the Saxons had retreated. They had prepared an insurmountable path of steel and thorns for themselves there.

"Those damned Saxons!"

The battalion commander behind him caught up and, seeing the scene before him, couldn't help but mutter a curse.

But now that things have come to this, they have no way out.

The troops behind them were still pouring in, so they had no choice but to grit their teeth and charge forward.

"Sappers! Where are the sappers? Get up here now! Cut this damn barbed wire!" the battalion commander roared.

Several sappers carrying heavy tools quickly ran up, urged on by their officers.

They arrived at the first barbed wire fence, and one of the sappers took out a huge pair of wire cutters, ready to strike. "Bang!"

A sharp gunshot rang out abruptly in the quiet street.

The sapper's head snapped back, a spray of blood erupting on the back of his head. He didn't even have time to scream before collapsing to the ground.

Everyone was startled and instinctively dropped to the ground.

De Gaulle lay on the ground, staring intently ahead. He saw a faint light flashing in the window of a three-story building at the end of the street.

Before he could react.

"Da da da da da!"

From another window of that building, a light machine gun suddenly began to fire rhythmic, long bursts.

Bullets whistled through the air, instantly knocking down several sappers in front of the barbed wire. Subsequent bullets struck the ground in front of the barbed wire, kicking up a cloud of dust.

This seems to be a signal.

From the buildings on both sides of the street, hidden firing ports simultaneously spewed out tongues of fire.

Countless bullets from heavy machine guns, light machine guns, and submachine guns rained down from all directions, instantly turning the area in front of the barbed wire into a death zone.

"Attack! Attack! Charge forward and close the distance, just like before!"

The officers were shouting at the top of their lungs.

The Gallic soldiers were initially disoriented by the sudden barrage of fire and could only lie on the ground like headless flies.

Upon hearing the officer's voice, no matter how absurd his orders might be, the soldiers felt as if they had found a pillar of support.

As if possessed, they scrambled to their feet and rushed into the depths of the street.

One soldier who successfully rushed to the front of the barbed wire fence noticed that there was actually a passageway between the wires and immediately called for the others to follow him.

As soon as he rushed in, a bullet, seemingly out of nowhere, hit his calf, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the barbed wire fence.

Sharp spikes cut his hands and face. He tried to break free in terror, only to find that his clothes and pants were firmly hooked by the barbs on the barbed wire.

He struggled desperately, but the more he struggled, the tighter the hook became, and the sharp barbs even pierced his thigh.

"Help me! Help me!" he cried out in terror.

Upon seeing this, the soldiers behind him immediately rushed forward. Amidst the hail of bullets, they frantically picked up the pliers next to the sapper's body, trying to rescue the unfortunate soldier from the barbed wire.

But the commotion immediately attracted the attention of a machine gunner, who even waited a few more moments.
The trigger was pulled only after the soldiers had gathered together.

A burst of bullets swept over, riddling the soldier hanging on the barbed wire with bullets. He convulsed violently on the wire a few times, then fell still, hanging there like a tattered piece of clothing.

The soldiers who tried to rescue him were also knocked to the ground.

De Gaulle felt his hands and feet go cold as he watched this scene.

He finally understood why he felt he had been led there by the Saxons.

This is not an illusion, but rather a deliberate act by the opposing commander.

Through the arrangement of other streets, the Gallic soldiers were eventually led here, like a carefully designed 'force funnel'.

Right now, the Gallic soldiers are trapped here by barbed wire, unable to advance or retreat, making them perfect targets under the enemy's crossfire.

One by one, egg-shaped grenades began to fly out of the windows of the buildings on both sides, landing accurately among the Gallic soldiers who were blocked by barbed wire and huddled together.

"Boom! Boom!"

The flames and shockwaves from the explosion raged through the dense crowd.

The soldiers were blown to pieces, their mangled limbs and screams echoing throughout the street.

The Gallic soldiers trapped in front of the barbed wire were completely devastated; it was a nightmare.

They were trapped between insurmountable obstacles ahead and comrades constantly surging up from behind, unable to move, and could only watch helplessly as they became targets for the enemy's slaughter.

Bullets whistled in from all directions, each sweep taking away more than a dozen lives.

Hand grenades kept exploding in the crowd, each explosion clearing out a small area.

Some people tried to forcibly climb over the barbed wire, but without exception they were all caught by the sharp barbs and shot to pieces by machine guns amidst screams.

Some people tried to retreat, but the road behind them was blocked by the following troops and the panicked crowd, leaving them with no way to retreat.

"Charge! Charge through! If we charge through, there's a way to survive!"

A Gallic officer, his eyes red, brandished his pistol, trying to urge his soldiers forward.

But before he could finish speaking, a precise rifle bullet blew off his military cap and skull, killing him instantly.

(End of this chapter)