I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 966: Aerial Battle Trap

Dussel Village is 79 kilometers from Saarbrücken.

This is a small village with less than a hundred households. It lies on flat land with fertile soil, and the villagers lead self-sufficient lives.

On this day, the villagers were working the land as usual.

As long as the war doesn’t affect them, farmers able to cultivate land are among the least likely to starve.

In some ways, they are even beneficiaries because the scarcity of supplies has led to skyrocketing food prices, allowing their agricultural products to be exchanged for more goods.

The problem is...

The men have all joined the army, leaving only the elderly, women, and children to perform the heavy labor in the fields.

Valerie pulled up a bunch of potatoes and gently tapped to remove the clumps of dirt clinging to them. As she did, she heard something unusual in the wind.

Curious, she straightened up and listened for a while, then shouted to her sister Laura who was a few meters away digging up leftover potatoes with a small hoe: "Laura, I heard something."

She then added, her voice tinged with terror: "It might be the enemy coming, from Saarbrücken’s direction."

Laura turned around, her face tired and muddy in the sunlight. She glanced in the direction Valerie indicated and reassured:

"Don’t worry, they say the enemy won’t reach here."

"Don’t you remember? Our soldiers are winning the battle; they are advancing towards the enemy!"

"So, it must be our troops!"

Valerie relaxed a bit, realizing Laura was right, she’d overreacted.

She refocused her attention on the potatoes at her feet.

Before she had pulled up two more plants, the sound of an engine suddenly echoed from around the bend in the road, startling the sisters and making them look back.

Others working in the field also paused to look in the direction of the sound.

It was tanks, one squadron after another, with long and thick gun barrels mounted high on turrets, pointing skyward, seemingly ready to fire devastating shells at any moment.

There were also armored vehicles behind, but they were too far away to tell whether they were friend or foe.

Closer and closer...

An armored vehicle accelerated and rushed forward. An officer emerged from the armored rear of the vehicle and shouted at the villagers in stiff German: "Hey, ladies, is this... Dussel Village?"

A Frenchman, wearing the French Army’s distinctive Adrian helmet.

The villagers were all pale with fright, wanting to run but too scared to move their feet.

"Yes, it is." Laura answered bravely, fearing not answering might lead to being shot by these men.

The French officer held a map for comparison, nodded, and said: "Thank you very much, but I recommend you leave here as quickly as possible, understand?"

"Okay, sir." Laura replied, yet her feet did not move.

The French officer glared at her: "Didn’t you hear? This place will soon become a battlefield. Leave now, immediately!"

He shouted loudly at the end so everyone could hear.

The villagers, frightened, hurriedly dropped their tools and ran towards the village.

The French officer’s eyes showed a trace of helplessness.

The village was not an ideal place to hide. They should be hiding in trench-like places, such as rivers, ditches, or air raid shelters and basements.

But those who don’t understand this instinctively think "going home," then shutting the door is safety.

Suddenly, the sound of artillery shells whistling by echoed in the sky.

But ahead of the shells were planes speeding low above their heads.

German planes, new fighter jets.

They swooped down, strafing the French Army ranks, immediately setting off a storm of bloodshed, luckily the French officer ducked back into the armored vehicle just in time.

Then the artillery shells exploded around them, flinging dug-up potatoes and farming tools into the air, which landed and made a mess.

The farmers screamed in panic, stumbled, and ran faster to escape.

"Prepare for combat!" The French officer ordered loudly.

Soldiers from the armored vehicles quickly jumped out and scattered, but remained on the sides of the road clutching their guns, accompanying the tanks as they moved forward.

...

Richthofen observed the scene from above, silently praising the orderly calm of the French Army’s most elite First Armored Army.

At this moment, Richthofen had been promoted to major, commanding the German Army’s most advanced Fokker D.VII squadron.

His mission was to seize air superiority to protect the "radio bombing airplane."

However, Richthofen had just risked being shot down by piloting the Fokker D.VII to strafe the French Army at low altitude.

This seemed foolish, not matching his mission.

Because there were currently only 50 Fokker D.VII, making it the true king of air superiority.

Yet he used such an aircraft to dive attack the French ground forces.

It wouldn’t kill many people but would put precious fighters within range of the French machine guns.

Nonetheless, only Richthofen knew the significance of this action:

He hoped to cause some chaos in front of the French ranks to deter their advance, while the rear troops kept crowding forward. Once congested, the artillery could achieve greater results.

But the outcome disappointed him.

The French Army ignored his attack, with no perceptible pause, nor did they stop to organize air defense. Tanks and armored vehicles continued advancing along the road.

This was the poise of an ironclad army.

Envy and jealousy surged in Richthofen’s heart, if only Germany had such a military force! 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

At that moment, the wingman flying beside him gestured and pointed southwest.

Looking in the direction indicated by his teammate, a dozen red triplanes appeared in Richthofen’s view.

It was the trap he had set against the French Air Force.

...

"According to performance data, our aircraft outperform the French fighters." Richthofen, who had test-flown the new fighter, displayed confidence in the pre-battle meeting:

"Whether it’s the French ’Camel’ or ’Snipe.’

"The only problem is our fighter shortage, only 50 aircraft."

"And a 200-kilometer top speed compared with the Snipe’s 190 kilometers doesn’t offer much advantage, while the enemy’s Snipe is far more numerous."

William II asked, "How many Snipe do they have?"

"I’m not sure, Your Majesty," Richthofen answered, "at least two hundred."

Then he added, "At the same time, we don’t have much speed advantage over the Camel’s 187 kilometers."

The number of Camels is much larger, now reaching four or five hundred.

Thus, despite appearing to have the most advanced fighters, the German Army still faced great difficulty in securing air superiority.

After a silence, Richthofen said:

"There’s only one way."

"Use our triplanes as bait to lure enemy fighters, then the Fokker D.VII would suddenly engage."

"This could potentially yield the greatest results in the shortest time, leaving the enemy confused."