I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 938: Incendiary Bullet

On the Freeman front, a German lieutenant, his face blackened by smoke, sat on a shell crate writing a diary.

The pen tip danced agilely on the white paper, but the lieutenant’s mind was filled with the image of machine guns spitting fire:

"After months of fighting, this region has turned jet black, trees becoming branchless stumps embedded in earth that looks stirred up."

"The land is bare, like it has leprosy, with countless craters of various sizes, not an inch of it unscathed."

"Dearest Leonie, the enemy is about to attack; they will be unstoppable, and this may very well be my last battle..."

A soldier crouched down, coming over to offer the lieutenant a cigarette. He inadvertently glanced at the diary, asking curiously, "Why don’t you send it out? I mean, she’s your lover, right?"

"She’s my wife." The lieutenant paused his writing and gently took the cigarette: "She died last month in childbirth, along with my child, because no one could get her to a hospital in time."

The soldier was taken aback, his expression turned to sorrow and his voice grew heavy: "I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I didn’t know that."

"It’s okay." The lieutenant remained calm: "We’ve seen too much, we’re used to it."

The lieutenant closed the notebook and placed it along with the pen into his jacket pocket: "Sometimes I wonder, what is death? Are the living truly happy? No, unless they can witness the end of the war."

The trench was silent, soldiers clutched their rifles, some sitting, some crouching, each lost in their thoughts.

Yes, if life continued like this, death would be a relief instead. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Perhaps it was the same for the families back home, constantly struggling on the brink of hunger and fatigue because of this meaningless war.

Suddenly, a whistling sound came from above, like wind howling through a cave.

The lieutenant shouted "Cover!" and was the first to lie flat in the trench.

"Boom boom!"

"Boom boom boom!"

...

Artillery shells burst open in pieces before the positions, densely packed.

The bombardment lasted for over two hours, back and forth, plowing the area before and behind the trenches as well as the no man’s land like farmland.

When the guns fell silent, the lieutenant’s voice was tinged with fear as he shouted to the soldiers beside him: "Get ready; the enemy assault is coming."

"How do you know?" the soldier asked.

"Isn’t it obvious?" the lieutenant replied loudly: "They’re using artillery to clear mines and barbed wire to pave the way for the tanks!"

Sure enough, when they looked up, they saw tanks emerging from the lingering smoke and dust.

Upon recognizing the tank models, the soldiers couldn’t help but draw in a sharp breath, their eyes showing deep fear:

"’Char B2,’ Shire’s First Armored Army!"

"We’re doomed!"

"Say goodbye to the world, gentlemen!"

...

At the Freeman Joint Command, Haig, Pershing, and Shire gathered once more.

The command post had been expanded and divided into British, US, and French zones, each with their own command systems.

The British and American zones seemed extremely busy, with radios and telephones ringing non-stop, messengers and staff officers bustling about, but in truth, it was mere ornamentation.

The real protagonists were the French Army.

The French Army Zone was in the middle, with the largest space and the most radios, where Shire and Tijani were stationed.

Pershing and Haig seemed like Shire’s aides, ready at any moment to command their respective forces to coordinate with the French Army’s attack.

"We are going to stage a play at the Freeman front." Shire said over the map:

"The goal is to make everyone think our attack is headed towards Saarbrücken."

"Of course, the Germans aren’t so easily fooled; they can recognize my First Armored Army."

"Therefore, we will have the First Armored Army truly attack the German lines, along with the Mechanized Division and Motorized Division."

Pershing looked puzzled: "Using the main forces of the First Armored Army to feign an attack?"

"Yes."

"Then, to what extent would the feigning go?" Pershing asked.

Haig, sitting leisurely in a chair sipping coffee, seemed uninterested in the discussion between the two until Pershing’s question piqued his interest. He raised an eyebrow at Shire and answered in his place: "I think, the feigned attack would go to the Saarbrücken line, right?"

"You could say that." Shire admitted, even complimenting Haig: "You have a good grasp of the situation, Vice Admiral."

Haig gave a noncommittal, slight smile: "It’s not hard to guess."

Prompted by Haig, Pershing also understood, pointing at the map to analyze:

"We can clear the mines on the Freeman front with artillery shells so that the armored units can pass smoothly."

"The Centipede Route can also be suppressed by air forces and motor artillery, so passing through shouldn’t be a challenge."

"The most difficult is the Saarbrücken line, so we feign the attack up to there?"

(Note: The narrow road leading to Saarbrücken is called the "Centipede Route" by the US Army because of the numerous forest paths like the legs of a centipede on both sides.)

Shire did not deny: "If we can break through the Saarbrücken line, we won’t need to feign at all."

"However." Pershing frowned:

"Pardon me, Vice Admiral."

"The ’Centipede Route’ is a place easy to enter but hard to exit."

"The Germans would intentionally let us in and then use artillery to blockade the route, cutting off our supplies."

The last time the Anglo-American Allies attacked, they suffered greatly here.

Haig even thought about defending with infantry here, but they still ended up being battered badly by German artillery.

"That’s not the case this time." Shire drew circles on both sides of the road on the forest with a red pen, marking them with a big cross.

"What do you mean?" Pershing was bewildered.

Haig’s expression turned vacant; after a moment’s thought, he gently nodded: "Incendiary bullets, you’ve prepared many incendiary bullets?"

...

On the Freeman front, the French Army charged fiercely like wolves and tigers, breaking through the German lines under the cover of tanks effortlessly.

The Germans didn’t engage in a pitched battle with the French; they left a trail of corpses and turned to flee into the forest.

This was their pre-planned strategy, as the forest offered the best cover, housing numerous fortifications and traps. Even Shire’s troops did not dare venture in to fight the Germans.

Particularly since the bulky tanks would be obstructed by the thick trunks and unable to advance.

Indeed, Shire’s troops did not enter; they only started fires on the outskirts: using flamethrowers, firing incendiary bullets with mortars and 75mm cannons.

The perimeter of the forest instantly turned into a roaring blaze, crackling and spreading deeper with the wind.

What filled the German forces with even more despair was the arrival of a fleet of bombers from the sky, their shadow covering the ground.

They flew over the forest, randomly dropping incendiary bombs as if scattering flowers, targeting places where there were no flames.

Before long, the once lush forest disappeared, replaced by a sea of flames and smoke, with occasional explosions and the Germans’ shrill cries echoing.