Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 188 Charleroi has two butchers

The Gallic soldiers who rushed into the alley were still wondering where everyone had gone when they were met with a barrage of gunfire.

“Da da da da da—!”

Bullets rained down from the second-floor windows, instantly riddling the leading Gallic soldiers with bullets, who fell to the ground without uttering a sound.

Those behind were terrified by the sudden burst of firepower and instinctively tried to retreat.

Morin then mounted an MG14 light machine gun on the windowsill and calmly fired short, precise bursts at the crowd below.

He found the light machine gun under the bed in this room.

When setting up fortifications within the city, Morin and Manstein had already considered the difficulties of supplying materials during urban warfare, as well as the possibility of needing to send out small groups of troops to harass or even launch a counterattack to retake the city.

Therefore, they specifically instructed each company to set up numerous hiding places for storing ammunition, spare weapons, medicine, and food in some concealed buildings within the city.

The locations of these hiding places were clearly displayed on his system map after they were set up.

The reason he chose this roundabout route was to find the nearest hiding place along the way and replenish his "personal equipment".

After clearing out the unfortunate few who had chased him into the alley, Morin did not stop or give chase.

He quickly rummaged through the hiding place and found a full ammunition box, stuffing it into his empty backpack. He then took a few submachine gun magazines and added them to the magazine pouch on his chest.

After doing all this, he slung the submachine gun back over his shoulder, then picked up the still-steaming MG14 light machine gun, moved aside a large wardrobe blocking the hole in the wall, and crawled into the building next door.

This was also one of the internal passages that the training commando battalion had planned in advance.

After passing through several dimly lit rooms, Maureen soon arrived at a window facing the street.

On the streets below, the Gallic soldiers, caught in a pincer movement from both the rear and the front, were completely thrown into disarray.

The survivors were lying on the ground or hiding behind piles of corpses; there was no formation whatsoever.

Morin set up the light machine gun and quickly locked onto the positions of the two 75mm magic cannons through the sights.

"Da da da--!"

A burst of bullets swept precisely towards the gun position, and several gun crew members who had just gotten up from the ground and were trying to resume operating the gun were instantly knocked to the ground, their blood spurting out and splattering all over the gun carriage.

After confirming that no one could operate the two cannons for the time being, Morin immediately shifted his gun and began to 'call out' the Gallic infantrymen who were still putting up a stubborn resistance.

These Gallic soldiers are really in for a world of trouble now.

The Saxon positions directly in front of them were firing fiercely, keeping them pinned down.

Now another elusive firing point has appeared on the flank and rear, specifically targeting areas where they have the most men. How can we possibly fight this battle?
"He's in that building! Quick! Kill him!"

A Gallic officer pointed at the building where Morin was standing and shouted at the top of his lungs.

Some soldiers heard his order and tried to return fire at Morin, but as soon as they looked up, they were shot down by bullets that seemed to come from nowhere.

Even if a few bullets managed to hit the window where Morin was, they only produced a burst of blue sparks in the air in front of him before falling limply to the ground.

"It's a mage! That Saxon mage has moved again!"

"Charge in! Charge in and kill him!"

Driven to desperation, several Gallic soldiers turned red-eyed and charged recklessly toward the door of the building where Morin was, ramming it violently with their rifle butts and bodies.

"boom!"

With a loud crash, the door was forcefully kicked open.

"Fight in!"

The soldiers roared and charged in, bayonets at the ready.

However, what greeted them was Morin, who was already waiting at the top of the stairs, with a light machine gun spitting fire in his hand.

“Da da da da da—!”

The dense barrage of bullets formed an insurmountable wall of fire, and the soldiers at the forefront were instantly riddled with bullets, tumbling down the stairs.

The people behind were also frightened by the terrifying firepower and retreated, not daring to show their faces, only daring to fire their guns into the building.

However, Morin had already disappeared down the stairs.

After dealing with these reckless young men who wanted to storm the building, Morin did not linger.

He knew very well that his goal was to take out the enemy's artillery, not to get entangled with these infantrymen.

After glancing at the system map and confirming that the enemy's offensive momentum in front of the 1st Company had been completely contained, he grabbed his light machine gun and quickly withdrew through the back door of the building.

Then, following another concealed route, they crept toward their next target—two more 75mm magic cannons that were threatening the 1st Company's position on another street.

While the frontal battle of the 1st Company became even more intense due to Morin's addition, the 2nd and 3rd Companies, responsible for defending the east and west flanks of the city, were not under as much pressure as the frontal battle.

This was mainly due to the support of the 77mm field artillery battalion outside the city.

From the start of the battle, this artillery battalion had been continuously suppressing the Gallic 9th Division's assembly areas on both flanks of the city with fire.

Even so, the statement that "the pressure is not that great" is a comparison with the 1st Company's position.

In fact, the brutality of the fighting in these two blocks did not diminish in the slightest.

On the eastern 3rd Company's defensive line, Gallic soldiers continued to surge like a tide, wave after wave, attacking the barbed wire positions.

Many of them were swept down by dense crossfire before they could even see where the Saxons were positioned, their bodies caught in sharp barbed wire, and they slowly died amidst painful cries.

But those behind them, urged and pressured by the officers, had no choice at all.

They could only step on their companions' still convulsing bodies to keep charging forward.

Then, they too fell one by one to the cold gunfire of the instructor battalion soldiers.

The corpses piled up higher and higher, and gradually, a low wall made of corpses, almost half a person's height, was formed in front of the barbed wire.

The Gallic soldiers who rushed up next had to first walk through the bloody street littered with severed limbs and bodies, and then step over the soft, sticky piles of their comrades' corpses to climb over this disgusting 'wall of corpses' if they wanted to continue their attack.

The entire process had a tremendous impact on their mental and physical well-being.

Many people hesitate the moment they climb the wall of corpses because they slip or have a mental breakdown, and this brief pause is often fatal.

A single bullet, fired from an unknown window, could easily end the lives of these Gallic soldiers.

Then, they themselves became part of that high wall, adding bricks and tiles to it.

Although in such brutal fighting, some Gallic soldiers quickly grasped some 'techniques' of urban warfare—

For example, they would remove the door panels from nearby houses and place them on the wire mesh to create a relatively safe passage.

Some junior officers also began to change tactics, no longer organizing large-scale, concentrated assaults.

Instead, they adopted smaller, more frequent waves of attacks, attempting to deplete the defenders' ammunition and energy. However, given the vast disparity in firepower between the two sides, these efforts proved insufficient.

All they did was allow them to 'build' a new wall of corpses deeper into the streets.

Time ticked away second by second in this bloody tug-of-war.

Around 2 p.m., when the second wave of attacks by the 9th Gallic Division was firmly blocked at the second line of defense of the Training Assault Battalion and could not advance any further.

The chaotic command system of the 9th Division headquarters finally issued the order to halt the offensive.

When the order to retreat reached Charleroi, the Gallic soldiers who were still struggling to attack the city heard it like heavenly music and began to retreat one after another.

They retreated like a tide to the southern outskirts of the city, which they had already captured, leaving behind a scene of devastation and countless corpses.

Both sides were like two wild beasts that had just gone through a fierce battle, each retreating to their own lair to lick their wounds.

On the training assault battalion's position, soldiers leaned against sandbag bunkers, panting heavily.

Many people were covered in blood and dust, making it impossible to tell whether the blood was their own or that of the enemy.

Their eyes held a mixture of numbness, relief at surviving a disaster, and deep exhaustion.

The medics moved between the positions, bandaging the wounds of the injured.

Seriously wounded soldiers were quickly carried to temporary aid stations in the rear, while those with only minor injuries remained on the front lines after receiving basic treatment.

After confirming that the threat to the 1st Company had been largely eliminated and that he had successfully destroyed the other two 75mm magic cannons threatening the 3rd Company, Morin returned to the 1st Company's defensive position.

He outflanked the enemy and wiped out at least four complete 75mm magic cannon teams, plus countless Gallic infantry.

At this moment, the murderous aura emanating from him was so intense that it almost materialized.

When he appeared at the 1st Company's position carrying the still-steaming MG14 light machine gun, the surrounding soldiers instinctively took a step back before coming forward to greet him.

"battalion commander!"

When Klaus saw that Maureen had returned safely, he finally felt relieved and hurried over to greet her, his voice trembling slightly.

"Are you okay?"

"Don't worry, I'm fine."

Morin shook his head and handed the light machine gun he was carrying to a soldier next to him.

"Have the machine gunner check if it's still usable."

He glanced at the situation on the battlefield; although the soldiers were exhausted, their morale was relatively stable.

However, there were noticeably fewer familiar faces on the battlefield.

"What about the casualties?" Morin asked in a deep voice.

The joy on Klaus's face vanished instantly, replaced by a somber expression.

"The casualties this time are not small."

He paused, then continued, "Several combat teams were scattered in the melee just now, and we haven't been able to contact them yet. According to preliminary statistics, our 1st Company has suffered 54 casualties, either killed or seriously wounded. The details have been sent to the battalion headquarters by messengers."

Morin maintained a blank expression on the surface, but inwardly he sighed.

One company lost one-fifth of its members in half a day, and that was despite having a huge firepower advantage and strong fortifications.

Moreover, the 1st Company consisted of the most experienced veterans, so this loss was indeed painful for Morin.

Although the Gauls' attack lacked any real tactics, they were undeniably numerous and incredibly fearless.

That kind of fighting style, which relied on sacrificing lives, put enormous pressure on the training assault battalion.

"Tell the brothers to take a break and replenish their ammunition. The Gauls may attack again at any time."

"Understood." Klaus nodded.

Morin did not linger at the 1st Company's position; he needed to return to the battalion headquarters to understand the overall battle situation of the battalion.

When he returned to the temporary camp headquarters located in the core area of ​​the southern city, Kleist and Manstein were sitting around a map, discussing something with serious expressions.

When they saw Morin return, the two were taken aback, and then quickly went to greet him.

"Commander! You're finally back! How's the situation at the front?" Manstein asked anxiously.

"Things are stable for now." Morin walked to the table, picked up the water bottle, and gulped down several mouthfuls. "The Gauls have retreated. Have we gotten the total casualty figures for our battalion yet?"

Kleist handed over a newly compiled casualty report, his tone somber:

"Battalion Commander, you'd better be prepared. From this morning until now, our entire battalion has suffered 71 dead and 111 seriously wounded, for a total of 182 combat casualties."

"hiss"

Even though Morin had anticipated this, he still couldn't help but gasp when he saw the number.

One hundred and eighty-two people!
This is almost equivalent to losing more than one-tenth of our troops!

The battalion has suffered nearly one-fifth of its combat casualties so far!

Although, according to Ludendorff's orders, this could be considered holding out for the second day of fighting.
"Damn it, these Gallic barbarians really don't value human life at all," Morin muttered under his breath, slamming the report on the table.

“In addition,” Kleist added, “half of the forty-six sets of enchanted breastplates we captured earlier have had their enchantments completely destroyed during the battle just now because the damage they took exceeded the threshold.”

"According to reports from each company, the remaining ones also have dimmed magical energy and probably won't be able to withstand much more damage."

Morin didn't know whether this was good news or bad news.

Although half of the breastplates were lost, these captured breastplates did play a significant role in the battle just now.

Several soldiers wearing breastplates managed to withstand fatal attacks thanks to them; otherwise, the casualty figures would have been even higher.

Just then, the quartermaster from the battalion headquarters also came over with a booklet.

"Commander, I have to tell you some bad news. Our ammunition consumption is too high!"

He handed the booklet to Maureen, pointing to the rows of numbers, his voice trembling:
"Look, the ammunition we brought from the Liege fortress was supposed to last us three or four days."

"In just half a day, we've used up half of our rifle and machine gun ammunition! The grenade consumption is even greater; we've already used up two-thirds of them!"

Morin took the booklet and quickly glanced at it; the numbers on it were shocking.

After several hours of intense fighting, the training assault battalion had almost exhausted the ammunition that an infantry regiment would normally use for several days of combat.

Automatic weapons are indeed powerful, but their ammunition consumption is also a bottomless pit.

(End of this chapter)