Chapter 524: Chapter 524 No Dignity At All
The morning mist spread, and the cold clouds felt like water.
The once peaceful field by the River Somme had now become scorched earth, with the wind carrying the smell of gunpowder and rotting corpses. Sunlight pierced through the thin fog, casting refractions onto the bodies in no man’s land, terrifying the rats gorging and fighting over the remains.
The British Army’s attacks and bombardments had finally quieted down for a few hours during the night, but neither side fully relaxed. Everyone knew that this brief respite was only for preparing a better offensive next time.
"Stay alert," Colonel Ralph of the German Army’s 21st Infantry Regiment shouted at his drowsy subordinates.
He complained, "These rabbits, don’t think the British will let us off so easily."
"Colonel," someone responded, "aren’t they refusing to let themselves off?"
The soldiers burst into laughter, none of them expected the British to launch such suicidal charges.
Ralph replied indifferently:
"You noticed that too? So, do you think the British will be foolish enough to keep doing this?"
"This is war, gentlemen. To survive and win, they must adapt!"
Ralph gestured towards the opposite side:
"That’s why it’s so quiet over there."
"So, you should stay vigilant and prepare for battle."
"Instead of sneering at the enemy like you’re doing now."
"Otherwise, they’ll teach you a harsh lesson, and there will be no chance to come back because you’ll already be dead!"
These guys don’t know how to empathize and think from the enemy’s perspective.
With Ralph’s reminder, the soldiers’ expressions turned serious. They silently checked their equipment and prepared for battle, while some whispered:
"What do you think, how will the British attack next?"
"Who knows!"
"Maybe they’ll bring Shire’s troops over."
...
These words instantly terrified the German soldiers, stopping their busy actions and looking at each other in horror.
They should have brought Shire’s troops long ago; Shire always finds ways to win on the battlefield, which means defeat and death for the German Army.
Suddenly, a "rumbling" engine noise emerged from the opposite side.
Colonel Ralph listened carefully and turned to give a loud order, "It’s tanks, they’ve sent out tanks. Prepare K-bullets!"
A series of tense "clacks" sounded as German soldiers hurriedly pulled their rifle bolts to eject the regular bullets and loaded K-bullets from their ammo bags.
Machine gunners also prepared K-bullet chains.
But their faces remained pale, all thinking it was Shire’s tanks coming, and K-bullets were useless against Shire’s tanks.
Before they were ready, with a loud "boom," tanks suddenly burst from the cover, their tracks "clattering" and crushing bodies in no man’s land, splattering dark red blood, and filling the air with stench.
At this moment, the German soldiers breathed a sigh of relief, and someone even cheered, "Those aren’t Shire’s tanks!"
...
The tanks that appeared were the British Army’s "Whippet" tanks.
Leading this unit was Captain Bernard Law Montgomery, commander of the Fifth Infantry Brigade, Fourth Army.
(The above image depicts Bernard Law Montgomery in 1915, a clergyman’s son and a noble officer. The British Army’s wartime promotion system was quite chaotic, many officers held significant positions in combat but their ranks were not promptly advanced. Montgomery’s rank was only gradually promoted after the war. Personally, I believe bureaucratic processes severely delayed promotions, requiring complex internal approvals, while the front-line death rate was too fast, causing severe misalignment.)
Monty was somewhat flustered; he had never commanded tanks before, only learning about them last night.
It doesn’t matter, Monty consoled himself, not just himself, none of the British officers had commanded tanks.
He wanted to emulate Shire’s armored tactics.
However, Haig had always despised using tanks, leaving little information on the matter.
With no choice, Monty had to define tanks himself: They were to cover infantry advancing, and as long as they helped infantry reach the enemy trenches, it was a success!
This laid the groundwork for his failure.
The enemy trenches had multiple lines; breaking one trench meant there was a second and third, and if tanks stopped at the first trench, infantry could only occupy the German Army’s "forward trenches" used for maneuvering and French artillery bombardments.
Therefore, tanks had to cross trenches by any means, even with infantry assistance, which was the correct strategy.
Additionally, Monty needed to understand the tank’s strengths and weaknesses to maximize advantages and mitigate shortcomings.
Yet Monty knew nothing, simply treating tanks as mobile shields and machine gun bunkers to facilitate infantry’s advance.
...
On the battlefield, what Monty couldn’t tolerate wasn’t the enemy’s bullets, but the stench in the air and the ground turning to muck from crushed flesh and blood under tank tracks.
More disturbing was the corpse fragments flung backward by rotating tank tracks he had to endure.
Monty almost vomited his bread from yesterday.
Indeed some soldiers were in such states, vomiting uncontrollably, only to find no clean ground, not even a spot.
Some soldiers lost rationality, crazily charged past tanks towards the enemy while shouting and shooting, even without seeing their targets.
A few bullets ended their lives.
Monty believed they did it intentionally, that was their desired outcome.
"Attention!" Perhaps to mask his fear, Monty raised his revolver and urged the soldiers, "Follow the tanks, keep formation!"
At his command, the soldiers seemed better but still advanced while gagging.
Monty could initially hold back.
But he noticed a "snap crackle" sound similar to dry wood breaking under tank tracks, sharp and pleasant, distinct from the "clang clang" of bullets hitting tank armor.
The next second, Monty realized it was the sound of tanks crushing human bones.
Just then, a chunk of bloody flesh with stench flew onto his face with the tank track’s inertia, and Monty couldn’t hold back any longer, vomiting forcefully like a fountain.
Nonetheless, he maintained composure and kept pace with the tank.
He had to do this, he kept telling himself.
Otherwise, he’d become like the corpses on the ground, part of the next batch being crushed by tanks, without any dignity!