Chapter 211: "My God, We've Been Tricked!"
The German artillery position lay in ruins, scattered with overturned howitzers and clusters of German artillerymen huddled on the ground, hands on their heads in surrender.
Colonel Brawn simply ordered the German prisoners to relinquish their weapons and set the cannons ablaze before letting them go. Western European armies held a relatively humane view on the treatment of prisoners, influenced by a spirit resembling chivalry.
For them, battle was a duty to their country, much like a knight shedding blood for his emperor—an act of honor and devotion. But if defeat was inevitable and the outcome irreversible, surrender became acceptable. Once surrendered, they were no longer soldiers but men deserving of decent treatment.
…
In Berlin, Wilhelmstrasse, at the German General Staff headquarters.
General Falkenhain was urgently reallocating every available troop toward a single objective: reinforcing Tram and Rhodes.
"This is Charles's elite force!" Falkenhain paced behind his desk, growing more animated with each step. "They've been fighting under Charles's command since the Battle of the Marne. They know his tactics, his equipment—if we can trap and eliminate them, we'd be cutting off Charles's right hand!"
Falkenhain left unsaid his hope of capturing some prisoners. From them, they might learn Charles's newest tactics and equipment, perhaps accelerating German advances. This possibility held immense value to Falkenhain, even more than capturing the two "special artillery divisions" of the French.
If it meant letting them escape to seize Charles's First Tank Brigade, Falkenhain would make the trade.
"We must seal them off, no matter the cost," Falkenhain muttered.
Colonel Moritz understood the importance of Charles's forces well. Perhaps even Charles himself didn't realize just how vital his own elite unit was, which might explain his willingness to risk them in this venture.
Suddenly, a communications officer rushed in, looking ashen. "General, Charles's troops have crushed our First Tank Regiment. Two tank battalions are nearly wiped out, and Colonel Matteo has fallen in battle!"
Falkenhain froze mid-stride, turning in stunned disbelief. "No… that's impossible!"
How could the unarmed "Mark I" tanks have possibly defeated the heavily armed First Tank Regiment?
Without a word, Colonel Moritz stepped forward, snatched the decoded message, and read it quickly. Looking up at Falkenhain, he confirmed, "It's true, General. Charles deployed a new tank model."
"A new tank?" Falkenhain's eyes widened in confusion. "But how did we have no inkling of it? That tank traveled from Rhodes to Samock—ten kilometers, taking at least an hour. How did no one spot it?"
Colonel Moritz pondered for a moment before answering, "It's possible that Charles hid its existence deliberately, drawing our attention to the 'Mark I' models so that this new tank would take us by surprise…"
As he spoke, Moritz's face suddenly paled, struck by a dawning realization.
The same thought flashed across Falkenhain's mind. The two officers exchanged shocked glances.
"My God, we've been tricked!" Moritz exclaimed. "Charles led us to believe he only had 'Mark I' tanks, so we assumed his only escape routes were via Tram or Rhodes… But no, no—"
Moritz, visibly distressed, turned to Falkenhain. "We need to recall our forces, General. Charles will break out through Cape Town, attacking us from both flanks!"
But Falkenhain shook his head slowly, defeated. "It's too late, Moritz. Charles has outsmarted us yet again."
Moritz checked his watch, then glanced at the map and sighed deeply, nodding. Falkenhain was right. From the moment Charles broke through the Rhodes line, the German army had diverted all reinforcements to secure the flanks. It had been an hour and a half by now.
Recalling those troops would take another hour and a half—plenty of time for Charles's forces to bypass the Samock Straight and reach the town of Lorca.
…
In fact, the situation was progressing even faster than Falkenhain had feared.
Equipped with advanced suspension systems, the "Charles A1" tanks could reach a speed of 13 kilometers per hour and cover over 30 kilometers without requiring maintenance.
Their lighter weight also helped. Supporting an 8-ton Charles A1 was a vastly different task than handling the 17-ton "Mark I."
The First Tank Brigade advanced with infantry support. Sidecar units scouted ahead, marking treacherous or uneven terrain with small flags. Above, reconnaissance planes dropped "intelligence bottles" containing messages warning of any obstacles ahead, such as small enemy detachments, supply convoys, or German engineers.
The sidecars took care of any minor resistance, driving off scattered German troops or seizing supply vehicles. Any cratered paths they came across were repaired, and the Charles A1s rolled forward, unobstructed.
Meanwhile, under Colonel Estiny's command, the "Mark I" tanks were gathered at the Samock town intersection. He ordered fuel tanks opened and the engines ignited. Their final act was to block the pursuit, preventing German reinforcements from catching up quickly.
…
In Lorca, just behind the Cape Town region, General Tijani and the Second Special Artillery Division finally joined forces with the First Special Artillery Division.
Amidst the soldiers' cheers, a soot-covered General Christine found General Tijani, and the two clasped hands tightly.
Christine led Tijani to a hastily built trench shelter, ducking low as they moved. They were in enemy-held territory now, and Christine could afford no carelessness.
Before entering the shelter, Christine glanced at Tijani's unit, his eyes betraying a hint of surprise.
Before the battle, Christine had viewed Tijani with disdain. He doubted the man, promoted on the strength of family connections, would be of much use on the battlefield.
Now, seeing the 30 or so surviving Saint-Chamond and CA-1 tanks among his forces, he couldn't help but reevaluate his opinion.
"Well done, General Tijani!" Christine said, his voice tinged with humility. "I abandoned all my tanks in our retreat—not a single one made it here."
Tijani smiled wryly, replying, "If not for Charles's forces, we wouldn't have made it here either, let alone our tanks."
With a sigh, he added, "Honestly, I should have left them to the Germans. They're barely more than decorations."
At least a flower vase, Tijani mused, had aesthetic value. These tanks, however, were more a hazard than an asset.
(End of Chapter)
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 15 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/Franklin1