I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 873: Preparations Before the All-Out Attack

William Street, General Staff Headquarters, Germany.

The sky was just turning light, the office still lit by electric lamps, and Hindenburg was already up, emerging from the rest room.

Hindenburg did not want to work day and night like this, but the battlefield situation did not allow him any slack.

The battles in Italy and Romania were deadlocked, the Eastern Front was victorious, but the Western Front was on the verge of collapse at any moment.

Hindenburg had been under intense watch for weeks, until recently the Western Front had become stable in the "night battle tug," allowing him to finally get a good night's sleep.

Hindenburg sat at his desk, and an orderly quickly brought him breakfast, a piece of whole wheat bread and a cup of coffee.

The supply situation in Germany was always bleak, even Hindenburg, the Chief of General Staff, had restrictions on his diet.

Hindenburg casually picked up the coffee, flipping through files as he asked, "What happened last night?"

"Nothing significant, Your Excellency," a staff officer handed a stack of organized telegrams to Hindenburg:

"We advanced another 3 kilometers on the Eastern Front, capturing over ten thousand Russians, their morale is worsening."

"Additionally, in the Romanian direction, we seized the Hol Valley, successfully breaching their defenses."

Hindenburg murmured an acknowledgment, it was all good news.

Brusilov couldn't save Russia on his own, despite the Russian Army's heavy equipment of troublesome machine-gunned carts.

This related to internal issues in Russia; the Dardanelles Strait was blocked, winter was imminent, freezing navigation lanes, another wave of material shortages was about to hit Russia.

The military and civilians would starve, yet the Tsar and the nobility lived in luxury, naturally, soldiers were unwilling to fight for such a rotten regime.

In the direction of Romania, due to reduced Russian support, their resistance confidence and morale gradually waned.

Hold on, Hindenburg steeled himself, it wouldn't be long before the enemy on the Eastern Front completely collapsed, and Germany would have sufficient troops and equipment to return to the Western Front to confront Shire.

Thinking of the Western Front, Hindenburg's expression grew serious, "What's the situation on the Western Front?"

"There were some surprises on the Western Front," the staff officer replied, "last night we failed to retake the abandoned positions as planned, instead, the French Army captured two positions, though we successfully halted them."

Hindenburg's coffee cup clattered onto the table, spilling coffee over the desk and wetting the documents, yet he paid no heed, staring in shock at the staff officer, "What did you say? The French Army captured two of our positions?"

"Yes, Your Excellency." The staff officer found it odd, it was just two positions over a 3-mile depth, was the Marshal overreacting?

Hindenburg stood up abruptly, "How did they manage that? Why did this happen?"

The staff officer nervously replied, "The French Army voluntarily abandoned a defensive line, our forces occupied it, then fell to a French counterattack, resulting in…"

Hindenburg understood, the French Army's abandonment of a defensive line gained them the initiative, resulting in a switch of offense and defense.

This was Shire's command, definitely Shire, only he would think of such a clever tactic.

"Retreat, retreat at once!" Hindenburg commanded, "Order all units to withdraw to the Metz defensive line!"

"Withdraw to the Metz defensive line?" The staff officer was startled by Hindenburg's order.

The Ouville line was at least 50 kilometers from the Metz line, withdrawing 50 kilometers in one go?

Hindenburg gave the staff officer no time to consider, sternly repeating, "Execute the order!"

"Yes, Marshal." The staff officer snapped to, hurrying off to deliver the orders.

Hindenburg paced anxiously behind the desk.

Ludendorff, buttoning his jacket as he briskly entered the command post, asked Hindenburg, "What happened, Your Excellency, I heard you're ordering the troops to withdraw to the Metz line?"

Hindenburg walked over to the map, pointing to the latest defensive line chart drawn by the staff last night, "Isn't it obvious?"

Ludendorff stared at the map for a while, but saw nothing.

Hindenburg jabbed his finger heavily on the Meuse River defensive line, producing a crisp "click": 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

"The 2nd Army's flank, General."

"Do you think this is just about two positions with a depth of 3 miles?"

"At night they can advance 3 miles; during the day, they might advance 30 miles, don't forget they have armored and mechanized units."

Ludendorff suddenly realized.

Just as the German Army broke through and defeated the British Expeditionary Force, appearing in front of the French Army's Meuse River defensive line's flank, the French Army's breakthrough of the German defensive line similarly threatened the Meuse River line's flank.

Until then, the 2nd Army stationed at the Meuse River defensive line was safe, protected on its flank by the layered defenses of the 17th and 18th Armies.

But everything changed after last night's battle.

The French Army's 3-mile advance at night was merely a preparation for an all-out assault.

When day broke, the French Army would launch a total attack, their armored units breaking through the German defensive line, threatening the 2nd Army's flank.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the Meuse River, Shire's first Armored Army and the US Armored Division would also initiate the landing.

At this thought, Ludendorff's face turned pale with fright.

"These ignorant fools," Ludendorff complained, "they actually thought this was a trivial matter, reporting it only now, they should bear responsibility for this!"

Ludendorff seemed to forget that he only saw this clear after Hindenburg pointed it out.

The orders cascaded down:

"Whole army withdraw to the Metz defensive line."

"Withdraw to the Metz defensive line!"

"All units withdraw to the Metz defensive line, immediately!"

...

But it was all too late, orders hadn't reached the front line, when the French rocket artillery already blasted on the banks of the Meuse River.

With a series of "whiz-whiz" roars, smoke veered toward the German positions, instantly engulfing them in flames and smoke.

The rocket barrage hadn't finished when the French assault commenced.

Confronting the Meuse River were the Eastern Army Group's second Specialized Artillery Division, which even had a company of "Shire B1" tanks.

Shire temporarily dispatched them from Paris as reinforcements, 30 tanks barely fresh off the production line, with crew members newly trained.

In the screeching noise of their tracks, leading over a hundred "Shire A1" tanks and more than three thousand French soldiers, they swept over the German defensive line like a storm.

The German defenders were instantly left dumbfounded.

In their hands, they only had 37MM anti-tank guns, capable of dealing with "Shire A1," but against "Shire B1," they were merely scratching an itch.

Meanwhile, the German artillery and tanks were mostly abandoned during the retreat, leaving only these infantrymen.

What could they use to stop these metal monsters?

Their flesh and blood?

The German soldiers only fired a few symbolic shots, then resumed their escape.