Chapter 439: The Final Frenzy
By the seventh day, the encirclement was nearly complete and stable.
Foch's 9th Army was moving in waves through the corridor opened by Charles's armored forces, reaching Preuilly and advancing to Brussels. This perfectly closed the encirclement, trapping the remaining German forces in the area west of Brussels.
The German forces attempted several breakouts, all unsuccessful. With fuel and ammunition now fully supplied by the 9th Army, Charles's armored and mechanized divisions could respond within hours to crush any attempted German escape. Deprived of air superiority and with their tank divisions decimated by Charles's forces, the Germans had no effective answer to his armor.
Over time, Charles's "A1" tanks, his armored vehicles, and even the modified Saint-Chamond artillery had become something of a curse to the Germans. The sight of these hulking machines alone would send German units fleeing from positions they had defended so resolutely.
Marshal Falkenhayn, however, refused to give up, and he sent one last message to General Beyer inside the encirclement:
"Hold your ground, General! You can still requisition food from the Belgians. Ammunition should last another ten days, and we have a plan to break the French line, and together we will shatter their defenses."
General Beyer read the telegram with disbelief.
"Ammunition to last ten days?" Falkenhayn's estimation felt ludicrous. Most of their supplies had been lost in the frontline collapse, and the intense fighting over the past days had nearly exhausted the remainder. At most, they could hold out for another two to three days under moderate resistance.
As for food, yes, they had been requisitioning it from the Belgians all along. But…
Beyer's thoughts drifted to a grim reality: the Belgians were growing increasingly hostile to giving up their food to the Germans, and any further attempts to forcefully requisition it would only provoke more resistance. Soon enough, looting or even bloodshed could follow.
Many German soldiers, feeling their end was near, seemed to long for one last, desperate stand. Let loose, they might prove uncontrollable.
Beyer pondered these risks, not out of moral concern, but out of fear for what would happen to him if he did surrender. If he ordered his men to forcibly take from the Belgians, he could well be sealing his own fate, ensuring that any hope of negotiating surrender would be lost. The French and the Belgians would drag him to the gallows as a war criminal.
But on the other hand, to defy Falkenhayn's orders and restrain his troops...
After a long moment, Beyer carefully folded the telegram, tucking it into his uniform pocket. Then, as if reconsidering, he pulled out his dagger and sliced a small slit in his inner lining, sliding the note into the hidden layer.
At that moment, the distant hum of engines grew louder as French planes soared above the German positions, their thunderous roar sending the troops scattering in panic. But no bombs dropped—only leaflets.
The leaflets descended like snow, tumbling and turning in the soft breeze before blanketing the ground.
Tentatively, German soldiers emerged from their hiding spots, eying the leaflets strewn across the ground. Some picked them up hesitantly, glancing about nervously in case their officers would reprimand them.
But soon enough, they saw their officers doing the same.
A communications officer handed a leaflet to Beyer, who read it carefully:
"From Charles to all German troops: The outcome of this conflict has already been decided, and any further resistance is futile."
"Should you choose to continue fighting, we will gladly oblige."
"However, we demand this be a fight among gentlemen, with no harm coming to civilians."
"If you treat civilians with respect, we promise to treat you with the respect due to prisoners of war."
"However, if you attempt to take any action against the Belgian people, rest assured, I will see that you're marched to the guillotine!"
(Note: The guillotine, introduced in 1792, was France's primary method of execution for nearly 200 years, considered at the time a humane way to deliver a swift death. It was only abolished in 1977.)
After reading the leaflet, Beyer felt reassured that his decision to restrain his men had been the right one.
The time had come to make contact with the French.
…
Charles, of course, was playing to the crowd as much as he was to the Germans. The Germans, he knew, didn't need a leaflet to understand the futility of their resistance—they were smart enough to see the situation for what it was.
But the leaflets were directed as much at the Belgians as at the Germans.
What did it cost him? Only a few cheap sheets of paper. So why not?
To him, it was a minor gesture, and he'd forgotten about it soon after giving the order.
But to the Belgians, especially those trapped in the encirclement alongside the Germans, it was no small matter. It was, in fact, a matter of life and death.
"What if the Germans, at the end of their rope, decide to take us down with them?"
"Or worse, what if they take us hostage?"
"They could even force us to walk ahead of them as human shields!"
The thought struck fear into them, and many had taken to hiding in basements, hoping to survive the most dangerous phase of the war.
But when Charles's leaflets fluttered down from above, the Belgians were elated. Passing the message among each other, they rejoiced:
"Look at this! Charles is doing his best to protect us. He's truly our savior, rescuing us from crisis after crisis."
"With this declaration, the Germans will be forced to behave, right?"
"Of course. They're already avoiding confrontation with us, though they must be starving."
…
At the officers' club in Paris, though it wasn't officially open yet, the place was already packed with military men. They were there to celebrate the latest victory, proud to toast to Charles's accomplishments, as if they had been a part of it themselves.
A few of them couldn't help but tease Lucia:
"You have one outstanding boyfriend, Lucia!"
"He's perfect. Don't let go of him—you'll regret it if you do."
"You're the luckiest woman alive! Every girl in Paris must be seething with envy, even that infamous Hélène!"
The officers burst into laughter, recalling the story of Charles taking a shot at Hélène.
Lucia managed a grateful smile, but in her heart, she felt a pang of sadness. Only she knew that she was, at best, Charles's public girlfriend.
As she served drinks, Lucia finally gathered the courage to ask about the latest developments in Belgium.
"What's the matter?" Gariel teased. "Afraid Charles is going to lose this fight?"
"No, Gariel," Lucia replied anxiously, shaking her head. "But my parents are still in Ghent, along with my younger brother."
Seeing Gariel's puzzled expression, Lucia added, "Ghent is inside the encirclement. I'm worried..."
Gariel understood immediately. Everyone was wondering whether the Germans, in their last moments of desperation, would resort to a "final frenzy."
"Nothing's going to happen," Gariel assured her. "Charles will protect them."
Lucia nodded, tears glistening at the edges of her eyes.
Charles could save Belgium, perhaps, but she doubted he could save her family.
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