Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 257 Aerial Reconnaissance
Eric was assigned to an assault unit, where he was trained by a sergeant from the training assault battalion.

The sergeant looked young, but his eyes were remarkably calm. The fierceness and efficiency that were unique to elite troops were something Eric couldn't find in the veterans of the 42nd Infantry Regiment.

The training took place in a relatively flat area with fewer craters at the rear.

Eric had expected that the short 48-hour training would impart some 'battlefield secrets' for the commando battalion, such as how to kill with every shot or how to dance in the midst of artillery fire.

But he was overthinking it.

The training content was simpler than he had expected.

In addition to issuing brand-new MP14 submachine guns and MG14 light machine guns to the most experienced veterans in this hastily assembled assault force and teaching them how to use them,

The rest of the time was spent practicing dispersed charges by class again and again.

There were no complicated tactical explanations, nor any advanced shooting techniques.

The young sergeant instructor gave them instructions using the simplest language possible.

"Listen up, you only have one task: keep up with us!"

The sergeant pointed to himself and several other soldiers from the training assault battalion beside him.

"We charge, you charge! We lie down, you find the nearest shell crater and lie down! We open fire, you provide cover on our flanks!"

"In short, don't fall behind! Don't fucking dawdle behind us! Anyone who falls behind can expect to be riddled with bullets by the Gauls!"

The young sergeant's words were rough and direct, but neither Eric nor any of the soldiers around him felt offended.

Because they had witnessed firsthand how this unit advanced through a hail of bullets the day before.

Every word they uttered was an experience gained at the cost of their lives.

Training began, and Eric and the other selected 'elite soldiers' started following the instructors of the assault battalion, repeatedly charging, lying down, and seeking cover on a simulated battlefield.

At first, they found it very difficult to adapt.

Accustomed to charging in tight formations, they always felt uneasy when they were separated from their comrades.

The pace of the charge was also out of sync. Either they charged too fast and broke out of the cover range of the training assault battalion soldiers, or they were a step too slow and stood there dumbfounded after the instructors had already taken cover.

"You swine! Do you want to be sitting ducks for the Gauls?"

"Hey you! Yes, you! You're the one who sticks your butt out so high when you lie down!"

The instructors corrected their mistakes without hesitation, sometimes even kicking them in the buttocks and sending them tumbling into shell craters.

Eric was kicked several times, but he didn't complain at all.

He began to force himself to forget everything he had learned in the past, and like a sponge, he desperately absorbed every movement and every detail that the instructors taught them.

How to use the slope of a crater as cover, how to change bridge clips while moving, and how to determine the safest route in the shortest amount of time.

Maureen stood on one side of the training field, silently watching all of this.

Standing next to him were Manstein and Kahn, the platoon leader of the 1st Company.

"Battalion Commander, the batch of new weapons that the First Army just received from the country has all been distributed to the assault troops participating in this main attack," Manstein reported.

Morin nodded. He knew that the First Army Group had not received a large number of weapons, which was just a drop in the ocean for an army-level offensive.

But something is better than nothing.

Currently, all army groups have already benefited from automatic weapons, so these army group commands are requesting automatic weapons from the General Staff and the Army Department.

Molin believes that domestic factories have already reached their maximum production capacity, but they will definitely be in a state of supply shortage for a short period of time.

To be honest, it's already quite an achievement to be able to squeeze out these weapons for the First Army Group at this critical juncture.

He looked at the 'elite soldiers' in the distance, clumsily mimicking the movements of his own men, and felt little optimism.

He knew very well that it was impossible to train ordinary Saxon army soldiers into qualified commandos in just 48 hours or two days.

To truly master the essence of assault group tactics, they need at least half a month, or even longer, of systematic special training.

But as General Mackensen said, time was not on their side.

The Gauls and Brittany could stall, trade space for time, and wear down Saxony's morale with lives.

But their troops, which had penetrated deep into enemy territory, could no longer afford to linger.

The longer they remain bogged down in the quagmire of Crey, the more likely the Britannian expeditionary force on their flanks will pounce, and the more vulnerable their supply lines will become.

Even more critically, in the main battlegrounds of the Ardennes Forest and Alsace-Lorraine, Saxony's main forces have already shown signs of weakness.

Once the main battle lines collapse, the Gauls will be able to free up their forces to gather a large army and, together with the defenders of Paris, launch a pincer attack on the First Army.

At that time, their large army will be trapped like turtles in a jar.

Therefore, setting aside two days for these hastily assembled attack troops to conduct the most basic acclimatization training was already the limit that General Mackensen and General Seeker could do.

And there's even worse news: Maureen's prediction of a "final offensive" at yesterday's emergency meeting has come true.

根据【情报】选项卡里刷出来的消息，第一集团军集中了260门77毫米野战炮、120门105毫米榴弹炮、2门420毫米‘大贝尔塔’炮。

Currently, these artillery pieces are being drawn from various units and concentrated on the Krei front.

The problem is that the First Army Group's current artillery shell reserves are only enough to launch one high-density artillery strike.

Before the war began, both the Saxon Empire and the Gallo-Brittanian Empire greatly underestimated the ammunition consumption of artillery.

Before the war, the Saxon Empire's army had stockpiled approximately 6 million artillery shells of various types, and according to the General Staff's predictions, these shells could last for at least three years.

But within a month of the outbreak of war, the Saxon army's artillery had already destroyed half of its stockpile.

Furthermore, the excessively long supply lines extended the time required for ammunition resupply, ultimately resulting in the First Army's artillery shells only being able to support such a large-scale offensive at this critical juncture.
Therefore, Maureen was well aware of the pressure Mackensen and Seeker were under at that moment, and the upcoming attack was a do-or-die situation for them.

"Battalion Commander, do you think they can handle it?"

Manstein looked at the flustered friendly soldiers and asked with some concern, interrupting Morin's thoughts.

"Whether it works or not, it has to work."

Maureen's voice was calm, revealing no emotion.

"Our task is to tear open the breach, and all they need to do is follow us in, hold the breach open, and prevent it from closing."

After saying that, he looked at platoon leader Kahn.

"Tell our people not to hold back during training, teach them as much as they can. Also, emphasize to them several times how to use grenades, they are more useful than guns when clearing trenches."

"Yes, Battalion Commander!" Kahn nodded and turned to relay the order.

Morin continued to look at the training field, but he was thinking about something else.

Yesterday at headquarters, although his proposed 'assault group tactics' received support from Mackensen and Seekert, he also clearly heard the doubts raised by the staff officers.

In particular, there is the issue of artillery coordination. Getting infantry to charge behind extended artillery fire is indeed a huge challenge for the current Saxon artillery.

This is not just a technical issue, but also a test of the psychological qualities of artillery officers and gunners.

If anything goes wrong and the shells land off course, the leading assault troops, including his own training assault battalion, will be annihilated.

He believed that Mackensen, Seekert, and the staff of the First Army would do their utmost to coordinate and oversee, but there were too many variables on the battlefield.

"Hopefully, those artillerymen will be more reliable this time," Morin thought to himself.

Just as he was pondering these questions, a strange buzzing sound suddenly came from the sky.

The sound was completely different from the roar of the armored airship's engine; it was much sharper.

Morin subconsciously looked up and saw a strangely shaped monoplane flying overhead.

The plane was painted with the Saxon Air Force insignia, and its wings were also very uniquely shaped, like a large bird with outstretched wings.

The wingtips droop slightly, exuding a certain biomimetic beauty.

[The Saxon Empire Air Force Reconnaissance Aircraft - the Dove Monoplane]

On Morin's system interface, a new message popped up in the "Information" tab.

In fact, even without the system's prompts, Morin already recognized this thing.

In my memories before the time travel, this pigeon-like aircraft was the reconnaissance plane that Germany widely used in the early stages of World War I.

In this world, the existence of armored airships and mages makes the survival environment and 'job opportunities' of these early aircraft even more difficult.

So although she had always known that airplanes existed in the world, today was the first time that Maureen had ever seen an airplane in the sky.

Perhaps because the Saxon army had advanced too quickly, the fortified soldiers responsible for building the temporary airfield had not yet kept up with the main force, so these fragile little birds that need a runway to take off and land only appeared on the front line in Krei today.

The pigeon monoplane quickly flew over the Saxon positions, then changed course and began to fly parallel to the no-man's-land between the trenches.

Its mission was clear: to use the excellent aerial view to scout the troop deployment and firepower of the Gauls' defensive lines.

In the cramped cockpit of the plane, both pilot Hans and observer Otto in the front seat were sweating with nervousness.

This was their first real reconnaissance mission on the front lines.

Although they had flown the 'pigeon' countless times in the training grounds behind the lines, the real battlefield and the training grounds are completely different concepts.

Beneath our feet were crisscrossing trenches and countless shell craters, and even the air above the ground was thick with the smell of gunpowder.

All of this serves as a reminder that this is the edge of hell, and a single misstep could lead to annihilation.

They weren't too worried about the Gauls' large anti-aircraft magic devices.
Those expensive strategic weapons would only target their own armored airships; they would never waste their precious firepower on their cheap reconnaissance aircraft.

What they were really worried about were the Gaulish mages.

According to intelligence, Gaulish battlefield mages were also capable of briefly taking to the air and unleashing powerful attack spells.

For a fragile aircraft like the 'Pigeon,' let alone a fireball, any attack spell could easily disintegrate it in mid-air.

"Otto, what do you see?"

While trying to keep the plane steady, Hans asked loudly.

The engine was so loud that they had to shout to hear each other.

"I see it! There's movement in the Gauls' positions! A lot of people! They're mobilizing their troops!"

Otto in the front seat shouted excitedly, while picking up a bulky Zeiss camera next to him, aiming it at the position below, and pressing the shutter repeatedly.

This camera was the most important 'weapon' on their plane, besides the Gew.98 rifle he carried with him.

The photos it takes will provide the army group command with the most intuitive and accurate intelligence.

"Hold on, Hans! Let me take a few more pictures! Their artillery positions look like they've moved too!"

"understood!"

Hans carefully maneuvered the plane, trying to maintain a constant altitude and flight path, and was in a state of high tension.

However, the expected Gallic mage did not appear just as their reconnaissance mission was drawing to a close.

Otto turned around and exchanged a glance with his partner Hans. The two of them secretly breathed a sigh of relief and grinned. It seemed they had gotten lucky.

However, their smiles didn't last long. Otto suddenly pointed to the side and shouted, "Hans, look over there! What's that!"

Hans looked in the direction he was pointing and saw another airplane in the sky not far away.

The aircraft had the same design as their "pigeon," both being monoplane structures, but it looked more fragile.

The fuselage is painted with the iconic blue, white and red tricolor rings of the French Republic.

"It's a Gaulish plane!"

Hans exclaimed, his heart suddenly tightening.

Since both aircraft were flying parallel to the trench, the distance between them was rapidly closing.

In this era, no one had ever thought of mounting machine guns on airplanes.

The rules of aerial combat are still in their most primitive stage.

As the two planes drew closer, Hans saw the other pilot pull out a revolver from his pocket and fire a few shots haphazardly in their direction.

"Damn it! Fight back! Otto! Fight back!" Hans roared, pulling on the control stick in an attempt to dodge.

Otto also realized what was happening, and he clumsily raised his long Gew.98 rifle, trying to aim at the other man.

But on a high-speed, constantly turbulent airplane, trying to hit another moving plane with a rifle is as difficult as trying to siphon rice from a ditch.

"boom!"

Otto pulled the trigger, but the bullet flew off somewhere.

Meanwhile, the Gallic plane had already passed them and was turning back to its own position.

"Damn it!" Otto cursed angrily.

"Never mind him! Our mission is complete! Take what we filmed and let's go back!" Hans shouted.

Hans and Otto had no idea that this somewhat comical 'aerial battle' might become an interesting anecdote in future history books.

All they knew now was that they had to get this invaluable intelligence to the general's desk immediately.

Both planes traced graceful arcs in the air before flying toward their respective temporary airfields.

(End of this chapter)