I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start

Chapter 122: Downing Enemy Aircraft?

In Ypres, a light rain had started to fall again. Though the fine mist seemed insignificant, it permeated everything, slowly chipping away at the patience of General von Kroos, commander of the German 6th Army. The Ypres plains stretched out endlessly, with no need for binoculars to see the horizon. But appearances were deceiving; even with binoculars, visibility was limited due to the rain and mist, obscuring all but the immediate surroundings.

"How much time do we have?" Kroos asked his aide.

"I'm not certain, General," the aide replied. "But we can expect them to arrive by morning at the latest."

In other words, Kroos had to launch his attack by nightfall, or he would have to face enemy reinforcements arriving by dawn. Despite holding a 2-to-1 advantage in troop numbers and having superior training and equipment, Kroos approached this with caution. The Belgians still controlled the Nieuwpoort sluice gates, and should they be pushed too hard, they could open the gates and flood the plains, turning the battlefield into a vast, impassable swamp.

As Kroos hesitated, a sudden cheer erupted from the Belgian lines. Puzzled, he raised his binoculars and saw some Belgian soldiers raising their rifles and shouting.

Kroos frowned and ordered his aide, "Send a reconnaissance team. Find out whose reinforcements have arrived, where they are, and their strength."

"Yes, General!" The aide promptly departed to carry out the orders. He assembled a small team to push forward with artillery support, intending to bring back Belgian prisoners who could shed light on the sudden cheer from their lines.

Within half an hour, Kroos received the intelligence: "General, it's rumored that Charles is on his way to Ypres."

Kroos, who had been contemplating his map, snapped his head up in surprise. "Charles? The Charles from Antwerp?"

The name "Charles" was well-known to the Germans after the Battle of Antwerp, especially for his achievements in downing their Zeppelin and targeting the "Big Bertha" artillery with his unconventional plane-mounted cannon. Naturally, Kroos had heard of him as well.

"Yes, sir!" the aide replied. "The Belgian troops are cheering because they believe Charles's arrival has convinced their king not to open the sluice gates—they believe Charles can hold off our forces."

Kroos let out a quiet "Hmm." This was good news. At the very least, he could attack now without worrying about being stranded in no-man's land if the sluice gates were opened.

With this reassurance, he immediately ordered, "Have the 27th Reserve Corps prepare for an attack on the left flank of Polygon Wood."

"Yes, General!" The aide paused briefly, then added, "General, the Polygon Wood position is held by the British."

He was surprised because he assumed the Germans would target the Belgian lines, where the troops were less battle-hardened.

"I know," Kroos replied curtly.

"Understood, General!" The aide didn't press further and left to relay the order.

Kroos studied the map with steely determination. His plan was to catch the enemy by surprise. As his aide had guessed, the Belgians would expect the German assault to hit their own positions. As a result, they would focus their limited artillery there, leaving the British lines with little support. Even if the British requested reinforcement, coordination would be challenging due to differences in communication and language.

Moreover, Kroos suspected the British were low on supplies. Having only arrived a couple of hours ago, they likely hadn't brought enough ammunition. The British infantry's strength lay in their high rate of fire, but if they exhausted their ammunition, their advantage would quickly turn into a liability. The British would likely fire rapidly until empty, after which they'd have nothing but bayonets to face the unrelenting German advance.

Kroos's command was swiftly executed. Observation balloons rose into the sky, putting soldiers on both sides on high alert—they knew this signaled an impending German artillery barrage. Shortly after, planes were launched to protect the balloons and monitor the front-line troops' progress.

The battlefield fell into tense silence, broken only by the soft patter of raindrops on the ground. Soldiers took deep breaths of the damp air, savoring the quiet one last time.

Then, explosions shattered the silence.

"Boom, boom!"

A series of artillery shells exploded along the Belgian defensive line, spraying mud and water in a deadly mix of steam and smoke that filled the air before being beaten down by the rain. Amidst a chorus of whistles, shadows began to emerge on the open field. Camouflaged in mud, the German soldiers seemed invisible until they rose to their feet.

"Advance!" the commanding officer rasped, and soldiers, clutching their rifles, charged toward the enemy line with loud shouts.

A few artillery shells screamed down, sending dozens of soldiers flying through the air in an explosion of blood and mud. But the advancing Germans continued undeterred, trudging through the mud, occasionally firing toward vague targets ahead, steadily pushing toward the enemy.

Just as Kroos had anticipated, everyone believed the British held the stronger line, making it the least expected point of a German breakthrough. With a single surge, the Germans managed to break through and began driving the British troops back.

"Keep moving forward!" Kroos commanded. "Break through as fast as possible!"

The 27th Reserve Corps was his main strike force; if they could breach the enemy's lines and reach the rear, any Belgian attempt to flood the land would be too little, too late.

…

In the Belgian command post, King Albert also realized the severity of the situation. He had not anticipated that the British line would falter so quickly. The British were the allies he relied upon, yet they were crumbling before the German onslaught.

"Your Majesty, we need your command!" General Charles urged him, visibly shaken. "If we don't open the sluice gates now, we'll be surrounded and overrun!"

Albert gritted his teeth. He knew he couldn't delay any longer, or they would risk losing all of Ypres.

But at that very moment, the sound of machine-gun fire suddenly roared overhead, followed by the deafening wail of an engine and the eruption of a powerful explosion.

As King Albert and General Charles exchanged bewildered looks, a breathless radio operator rushed in, eyes wide with astonishment. "Your Majesty, French aircraft are here—they're shooting down the enemy's planes!"

"Downing enemy planes?"

Albert and General Charles glanced at each other, each mirroring the same thought: How could they possibly shoot down enemy planes?

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