Chapter 763: These Are Charles's Troops
At dawn, a thin drizzle fell over Toul, covering everything in a cold, misty layer.
In their trenches, the German soldiers shivered involuntarily, caught off-guard by this sudden late spring chill. They rubbed their hands together and stamped their feet to keep warm.
Suddenly, the shrill whistle of incoming artillery shells pierced the quiet morning, quickly transforming into a terrifying ripping sound before exploding near their trenches.
Explosions shook the ground, and smoke rapidly obscured the view.
But the German soldiers merely ducked deeper into their trenches, calm and unhurried. After months facing the French across this frontline, they'd grown numb to artillery barrages. Even seeing fellow soldiers blown apart barely stirred their emotions anymore.
"These shells must've just arrived from America," Colonel Hans cursed bitterly as he ducked inside a shelter. "The French can't wait to waste them the moment they receive them—what a wasteful bunch!"
His adjutant chuckled softly, "Would you prefer they fought like Charles instead? If that were the case, we'd probably be dead by now."
Hans snorted dismissively and threw his helmet down roughly onto the wooden table. "As if things are much better now!"
Soldiers nearby smiled bitterly. Hans wasn't wrong. Death might even be a release from their miserable frontline existence—not only due to harsh living conditions, but also the sense of hopelessness permeating their ranks.
How could they possibly defeat France while Charles still commanded their enemy's forces? Merely thinking about it drained the soldiers' morale completely.
Suddenly, the telephone rang urgently. The adjutant picked it up, his expression instantly changing as he turned gravely towards Hans: "Colonel, it seems your wish may have just come true—Charles's troops are advancing towards our position!"
"What?" Hans sprang to his feet in shock, the cigarette falling forgotten to the damp ground.
The adjutant nodded grimly, "It's an armored unit."
Hans still refused to believe it. Charles's forces were supposed to be behind the Meuse River—when did they cross to attack Toul?
Yet, peeking cautiously over the parapet through his binoculars, Hans could no longer deny reality. Clearly visible was a formation of "Charles A1" tanks, steadily approaching German lines alongside well-trained French infantry.
Their tactics were flawless, textbook examples of combined infantry-tank operations. Hans even spotted soldiers wielding submachine guns—a distinctive piece of equipment unique to Charles's units.
These were definitely Charles's troops!
…
Meanwhile, in the city of Metz, Erwin was busy receiving a shipment of new tanks.
The LK2 tanks relied on automobile engines and were essentially tractors with armor plating and cannons attached. Their simplicity meant they could be manufactured quickly. Already, his division had received 67 replacement tanks, partially restoring its strength after earlier devastating losses.
Erwin silently thanked his past decision to abandon his tanks and preserve his experienced tank crews. New tanks could always be built, but skilled, experienced tank crews were irreplaceable. Without them, rebuilding would mean starting from scratch.
"General!" Manstein rushed toward Erwin, waving a telegram urgently even before reaching him. "Charles's troops have attacked!"
"Where?" Erwin asked anxiously, grabbing the telegram. "Where exactly?"
"Toul," Manstein answered quickly.
Erwin's expression shifted as he studied the telegram. He shook his head slowly, visibly confused. "This doesn't feel right, Colonel."
"What do you mean?" Manstein asked, puzzled.
Erwin turned toward Manstein, holding up the telegram and shaking it gently. "After breaking through the frontline, they turned toward Nancy."
"Yes, is that a problem?" Manstein responded calmly. "Toul and Nancy are both key transportation hubs. Taking them would severely disrupt our logistics and reinforcements."
But Erwin shook his head again thoughtfully.
"No, this isn't how Charles usually operates. His armored units always move decisively, rapidly penetrating deep behind enemy lines."
"Yet now, his tanks are hesitating, maneuvering slowly along the frontlines. It's almost as if he's deliberately giving us time to respond."
Manstein dismissed his concerns. "General, I'm certain these are Charles's units. The numbers of Charles A1 tanks and armored vehicles speak clearly."
"Maybe that's precisely Charles's intention—to confuse us. He wouldn't want us guessing his true goal. Besides, the French Parliament and Eastern Army Group wouldn't want Charles to claim all the glory for himself."
Manstein understood French politics. He reasoned that Parliament's distrust of Charles probably forced him to use his tanks in a supportive role rather than independent, decisive action. That way, credit would go to the Eastern Army Group instead of Charles personally.
Still, Erwin remained uneasy. "I think we should observe carefully before acting."
Manstein sighed impatiently. "General, what exactly are you worried about?"
Erwin hesitated briefly before speaking, "I suspect Charles's true objective might be Metz. It's strategically crucial, the heart of Lorraine, and flanks Alsace perfectly."
Pulling a map from his pocket and spreading it across the tank tracks, he indicated Metz clearly:
"Think carefully: Metz is fortified and defensible, protected by multiple fortresses. More importantly, it's built around three islands and surrounded entirely by rivers."
"Such terrain would greatly hinder Charles's armored and mechanized divisions. Yet, if he somehow took Metz, it would be like driving a stake straight into our heart."
Manstein interrupted, skeptical. "I understand that, General, but what exactly worries you? From where could Charles possibly attack Metz directly?"
Erwin paused, suddenly uncertain.
Indeed, the Meuse River frontline protected Metz's western flank. Crossing there would be almost impossible, even using amphibious tanks again—German 77mm infantry artillery was already prepared specifically against that scenario.
Thus, the only viable French route seemed via Toul and Nancy.
Manstein pointed confidently toward Nancy. "If we hold them here, General, no one can threaten Metz."
Despite Manstein's logic, Erwin's unease persisted, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly why.
Perhaps Charles had simply left him traumatized, Erwin mused bitterly.
Eventually, he sighed and nodded reluctantly. "You're probably right, Colonel. Prepare your forces."
Metz was defensible enough—it surely wouldn't fall quickly to Charles. And if things truly worsened, he could always recall their mobile units quickly enough to reinforce.
Given permission, Manstein saluted sharply and raced off eagerly to organize his troops.
He was impatient to witness his anti-tank guns in action, decisively crushing enemy armor.
More importantly, this represented a chance to defeat Charles himself—the legendary, undefeated god of war.
If they managed that, the French army's morale and popular belief in inevitable victory would shatter completely. Perhaps then, the Western Front's seemingly hopeless situation might finally turn in their favor.
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