The endless historical battlefield that began with World War I

Fifteen minutes later, Joseph's company advanced to the first German barbed wire fence, about twenty meters away from the first German trench.

The barbed wire is still there.

Seven days of shelling failed to break it. The shrapnel shells could blast craters into the ground and turn the surface into the moon, but they couldn't break through the thickened steel wire.

The moment Joseph saw the barbed wire, he immediately raised his hand and made a gesture.

Wilkins' group received the signal.

Wilkins opened his backpack, pulled out the one-meter-long modified wire cutter, lay down on his side, and began to crawl forward.

They had practiced in Newshire and on the training field. Now, lying on his side, he lowered his body to a height of twenty centimeters, extended the wire cutters, aligned them with the wire, kicked one handle with his foot, and pulled the other handle with his hand—

Click.

broken.

Move it three inches to the side and cut it again.

Click.

While Wilkins was cutting the barbed wire, O'Connor set up his gun in the shell crater, aiming it at the German firing point behind the barbed wire that hadn't yet appeared, waiting to fire as soon as anyone peeked out.

No one poked their head out, because O'Connor had fired two shots earlier, both of which landed on the breastwork of that firing point. His bullets now clearly told the German machine gunners inside: if you poked your head out, there would be a bullet waiting for you.

The machine gun went silent.

Wilkins' scissors moved across the barbed wire, each click creating a cut, while another group of breachers began their work, and then another, and another—five groups of breachers simultaneously made openings in the barbed wire.

In two minutes and forty seconds, five passageways were opened.

Joseph stood up and ran towards the German trenches, followed by his men. They dispersed, branching out along the five gaps, each group taking its own route, rushing forward to within ten meters of the German positions—

The first grenade flew from Joseph's hand and landed in the German trench.

"boom--"

The grenade exploded, spraying smoke and debris upwards.

Then came the second and the third, thrown simultaneously from all directions into the trench—this was pre-planned, a barrage of fire to deny the German troops inside the trench any time to peek out.

Joseph climbed into the trench.

There were three German soldiers in the trench. Two of them had been hit by grenades and were lying in a corner. One of the German soldiers picked up his gun, and Joseph came in from the side. Before the German could turn around, he was hit by a bayonet.

Tom followed in from the other side, glanced around, and saw that the trench was clean.

McDonald was the last to come in. He glanced around, squatted down to inspect the trench's fortifications, quickly stood up, and said to Joseph, "The structure is intact."

The trench is structurally intact and usable.

Joseph poked his head out from the top of the trench and looked back—

Their men weren't finished yet; there were still advancers in the trenches—O'Connor's group was clearing the left flank, Corporal Bolton's group was blocking the right flank, and a green flare was fired from Joseph's hand, shooting straight into the sky.

It means: The position is secure, and the shelling has stopped.

********************

British rear positions.

Lieutenant Colonel Chatterley, the battalion commander, stood at the entrance of the command post, holding up binoculars.

He had been holding the position for thirty minutes, and his arms were a little sore, but he didn't put it down.

He saw the left wing.

He saw the motionless figures on the open ground, saw the 16th Battalion, C Company, falling in front of the machine gun, and saw the acting company commander frozen at the top of the trench, and the messenger running out and collapsing.

He saw a staff officer rush into the command post, reporting that the telephone line was broken, the artillery in the rear was still bombing the designated coordinates according to the schedule, and there was no way to make contact.

When he pointed the binoculars at the right wing, his first thought was that the lens was misaligned—because the view there was completely different from that on the left wing.

The left flank was an open field filled with motionless figures, while the right flank was... smoke. People moved within the smoke, scattered, advancing in a scattered manner. Cracks, cracks, cracks, scattered points, scattered points, scattered points, then a gap appeared in the barbed wire, and then those people climbed over into the German trenches.

The left flank was currently lying prone 400 meters from the German trenches, unable to advance.

Meanwhile, on the right flank, Joseph's company had already entered the first German trench.

Lieutenant Colonel Chatterley lowered his binoculars, placed his hands on the edge of the observation deck, and stood motionless for a while.

Then he said, "He really did it."

The messenger next to him glanced at him but said nothing.

"He really..." Chatterley paused, picked up the binoculars again, pointed them at the Moral Army trench, at the newly captured position, at the green signal flare that had risen into the sky, "...he really did it."

Then his telescope scanned further away.

His hand stopped.

Through the telescope, the battlefield of the Somme stretched out, as vast as a map without boundaries—

To the south, the British trenches stretched for twenty-nine kilometers.

To the north was the German defensive line.

Between the two is a no-man's-land about three or four hundred meters wide, with shell craters, barbed wire, soil turned upside down after seven days of shelling, and hundreds or thousands of figures who were stuck there, unable to take another step before falling down.

Along this 29-kilometer front, the British forces in most sections failed to even reach the German first line of defense.

In some areas, the company commander was already organizing a third wave of assault, which then halted in front of the machine guns.

The General Staff's timetable was still running, and shells were fired on schedule, hitting the German second and third lines of defense, but there was no one there; the shells fell into the mud. No one knew what was happening ahead, because all the telephone lines were cut, all the flag signals were obscured by smoke, and most of the messengers couldn't reach their destination.

Along this 29-kilometer front, there is a salient about 300 meters wide.

That was Joseph's company.

They had penetrated deep into the German lines, standing in the first German trench. To the north was the second German line of defense, to the left were neighboring units still struggling in the open, and to the right was another company that was equally immobilized.

They were the only unit on the entire front to break into German positions.

Protrusion.

Isolated, completely exposed, surrounded by enemies on three sides.

Chatterley lowered his binoculars, turned to his staff officer beside him, and yelled, "Call division headquarters and tell them to concentrate the reserves on the right flank. Lyndon needs the flank—"

"The phone line is down, Lieutenant Colonel."

"Then send someone to run!"

"We've already sent two messengers, lieutenant colonels, but they haven't returned yet."

Chatterley's lips moved, but no sound came out.

He raised the binoculars again and looked at the protrusion.

He saw the green flare slowly descending from the sky.

********************

Joseph poked his head out from the top of the trench, looked north for a few seconds, and then pulled it back in.

About 300 meters to the north was the German second line of defense. He could see the outline of that line—breastworks, iron stakes, and figures moving in the distance, converging on this side.

He looked to his left—the neighboring battalion was still struggling in the open, the machine gun fire never ceasing.

He looked to his right—and the same to the other side.

He pulled back, rested the back of his head against the earthen wall of the trench, and looked up. The sky was gray, and the smell of smoke lingered in the air.

O'Connor walked over from the left, slung his gun over his shoulder, squatted down, took a piece of black bread captured from the Germans, popped it into his mouth, and chewed it.

"Are German troops gathering in the north?" O'Connor asked. "About how many?"

"Based on visual estimation, it's at least two companies."

"Oh," O'Connor said casually, taking another bite of her bread. "That's quite a lot."

Tom came from the right; he was running, his face covered in mud, as if he had just cleared a remnant firing point on the right side of the trench.

He crouched down and waited until he caught his breath before speaking: "Joseph, we sent the signal again, but there was no response."

No response means: the neighboring country is not in place, and the flank is empty.

Joseph turned to Harris: "Ammunition situation?"

"We're running out of grenades faster than expected because our advance is faster than anticipated, and we're using two more batches of grenades than planned."

"Okay," Joseph said. "Notify all groups to temporarily tighten the grenade deployment. Use them only for defense and necessary advances. Do not use them as a precaution."

Harris nodded and turned to relay the order.

Joseph poked his head out of the trench again, quickly glanced to the north, and then pulled back out.

The German troops over there are still assembling, not very fast, but their direction is clear—towards this way.

The neighboring battalion was still unable to move in the open ground 400 meters away.

The telephone line is broken.

Nobody knows where the reinforcements are.

They occupied the first German trench, only to find themselves the only force to break through along the entire 29-kilometer front, with no openings on either side and a counter-offensive force gathering to the north.

Just then, the sound of the cannons changed.

To be precise, the landing point changed. Joseph leaned out and looked back. On the open ground to the south, near the British positions, two columns of earth rose up. Less than three seconds later, another column appeared, this time slightly to the east.

That's for distance measurement.

Tom recognized it too, and his gaze followed the direction of the cannon fire, pausing for a second in silence.

"They are blocking the roads."

Joseph didn't reply immediately. He watched the landing points of the plumes of smoke and mentally reviewed the coordinates.

That open area was the path they had taken this morning as they advanced; it was now the only route in the rear that allowed people to run and ammunition to be delivered.

German artillery is attacking there, turning the area into a place no one can cross alive.

In another twenty minutes, or at most thirty minutes, that road will be impassable.

By then, they would truly be trapped on all sides.

McDonald walked over from the other end of the trench, holding a garrison map captured from the Germans.

He pointed to a spot on the map and said calmly in a Scottish accent:

"According to this map, we are here now."

His finger touched the protrusion, then he looked up at Joseph:

"We're surrounded by German troops; we can't get out."

[Next Chapter Preview]

The German counterattack came from the north, and their ammunition was running low.

The neighboring battalion was still lying in the mud 400 meters away, and the vacuum on their flank remained unfilled.

Reinforcements are on their way—or will they never come?

Surrounded on all sides, how can Joseph escape before running out of ammunition?

On the first day of the Somme, the British army suffered nearly 60,000 casualties, a day known as "the deadliest day in the history of the British Army".

Does this number include Joseph's company?

The Battle of the Somme took place in 1916.

War never promises anyone that they will live to see tomorrow.

Stay tuned for the next chapter.