Chapter 588: Divide and Rule
On the road from Brussels to Gembloux, Lieutenant General Ives led the British Expeditionary Force's 3rd Cavalry Division through a heavy fog mixed with falling snow. Dawn had just begun to break, and the pale eastern sky revealed itself beneath a blanket of drifting snow, plunging the entire landscape into a gloomy chill.
General Ives involuntarily shivered, pulling his cloak tighter around him. After several hours of overnight marching, he felt cold, hungry, and exhausted—so weary that he feared he might slip from the saddle at any moment. But then he reminded himself of his mission: soon he would reach Gembloux, and there he would incorporate the French 6th Army into his own chain of command. With renewed determination, he pressed his mount onward.
It was a formidable force—over 200,000 men, including a specialized artillery division, reportedly equipped with more than 200 tanks and an unknown number of armored vehicles. Most importantly, it was Charles's army. Of course, it was only nominally Charles's; very soon, it wouldn't be.
General Ives recalled Clemenceau's description of the current situation in the 6th Army:
"Charles is currently locked in a power struggle with Major General Gamelin. The 6th Army is in disarray, and there's even talk of another possible mutiny. Technically, the Antwerp defensive line is under your command, General, so we believe it's necessary for you to travel to Gembloux. If you can stabilize this situation, we'll gladly leave the 6th Army under your command to cooperate closely with your troops along the Antwerp line."
This had all been carefully planned by Prime Minister Aristide Briand.
The strategy of "divide and rule" was a common method used by Western powers to manage and control situations. When their target was busy fighting internally, depleting itself through constant internal conflicts, it became far easier to control. Briand had confidently told Clemenceau:
"If the British succeed in reclaiming authority over the 6th Army, they'll simultaneously weaken Charles and become his most formidable rival. If they fail, it will at least intensify friction between Britain and Charles, providing us with a convenient way out of the current stalemate. Regardless of the outcome, this benefits us and simultaneously earns goodwill from Britain."
Clemenceau had nodded vigorously in agreement, immediately arranging everything according to Briand's instructions.
From beginning to end, General Ives never realized this was a calculated scheme devised by the French parliament to pit wolves against tigers. Instead, he arrogantly assumed the French parliament had been forced into desperation by Charles, compelling them to turn to Britain for assistance. Feeling quietly triumphant, Ives convinced himself that the current chaos rendered the 6th Army powerless and vulnerable. With himself already appointed as overall commander of the defensive line and holding critical supplies, he was certain the French would be compelled to listen to the British Empire, or face inevitable defeat at the hands of Germany.
Thus, he saw taking control of the 6th Army merely as a beginning, not an end. Achieving this would greatly benefit Britain, improving its military standing without firing a single shot—surely a worthy goal.
"General," a messenger riding from the front approached, reporting crisply, "Gembloux is just five miles ahead."
General Ives brightened at the news, immediately giving orders with renewed vigor: "Tell the troops to quicken their pace!"
The command echoed down the line:
"Increase speed!"
"Increase speed!"
The cavalry division surged forward like a snake given new life, rapidly gaining momentum.
General Ives mounted a small hill beside the road, raised his binoculars, and stared toward the distant town of Gembloux, which lay shrouded beneath heavy snow and fog. Murmuring softly to himself, he said, "I'm here, Charles. Are you ready to face the challenge?"
As the British 3rd Cavalry Division advanced along the main road into Gembloux, their intended destination was the French army's barracks and defense lines located east of the town. To demonstrate his leadership, General Ives positioned himself with his guard company at the forefront of the formation.
However, the further they progressed, the stranger things appeared. On both sides of the road, elaborate defensive trenches stretched out, manned by soldiers who, judging by their uniforms, were Belgian but clearly not mere militia. The fortifications were meticulously arranged, featuring barbed wire entanglements, concrete machine-gun nests, and houses converted into fortified bunkers with carefully drilled firing ports.
Their armaments were impressive: Maxim heavy machine guns, mortars, and "Saint-Étienne Mle 1907" light machine guns. As soon as Ives recognized the distinctive "Saint-Étienne" machine guns, he immediately understood—these troops had sided with Charles.
His suspicion was confirmed as they passed a three-story Gothic building. King Albert I himself appeared, smiling down from a balcony, greeting him casually.
"Long time no see, General Ives!" Albert called down cheerfully, maintaining a superior, slightly mocking tone. "How do you like my troops? First Special Reconnaissance Army—the finest soldiers in Belgium. I wonder, do they measure up to your cavalry?"
General Ives did not reply verbally, instead saluting respectfully from horseback, slightly bending his left arm in a courteous gesture. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I have urgent business and must decline your invitation to come upstairs."
Ives was determined not to get entangled in conversation with Albert, eager instead to quickly reach the barracks and secure control.
"Of course," Albert replied with a smile and nodded gracefully. Yet, as Ives rode past, presenting his exposed back, Albert added deliberately, "Remember this, General—we stand firmly behind you."
Hearing those words, General Ives felt a chill run down his spine. Countless machine guns and mortars were poised behind his troops, their barrels silently directed at his vulnerable cavalry. If fighting erupted, his entire division would be annihilated in moments. Albert was clearly threatening him—yet how dare he, Ives thought bitterly. Didn't Albert realize the British were here to assist Belgium in resisting German aggression? How could he behave so treacherously?
Despite this, General Ives didn't halt. He pressed forward resolutely, determined not to appear intimidated. The noise of distant artillery fire intensified as he neared the French encampment. To his astonishment, rather than the disorder he'd expected, the French troops appeared impeccably arrayed, their uniforms immaculate and their bayonets affixed, rifles and machine guns aimed menacingly toward the approaching British cavalry.
Confused, General Ives wondered where the promised chaos and internal strife had gone.
Emerging from among the French ranks to greet him was General Gamelin. Gamelin, accompanied by a cluster of uneasy French officers, approached the British commander nervously, visibly relieved upon seeing Ives's cavalry, as though a savior had appeared. But just as Gamelin began to relax, the unmistakable rumble of engines filled the air.
Another French unit simultaneously arrived, immediately recognizable as Charles's mechanized division. At its head stood Major General Tijani, positioned atop an armored reconnaissance vehicle. Seeing Tijani, Gamelin's heart sank immediately.
Without a word, Tijani waved his hand expressionlessly. The mechanized division instantly deployed around the British cavalry. Armored vehicles and tanks maneuvered noisily into position, their cannons and machine-gun barrels pointed directly at the heads of the British cavalrymen. The mounted soldiers froze, terrified, even their horses sensing the deadly intent, stamping nervously in the snow.
Suddenly, a loud roar erupted overhead as more than a dozen fighter planes screamed past at low altitude, shaking snow from rooftops. The startled horses neighed in panic, nearly bolting in fear, and the cavalrymen scrambled desperately to keep control, their discipline momentarily shattered by the unexpected show of force.
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