I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 124

Chapter 124: They Are Nothing But Flies

Not long after, the German army's fears became a reality.

Carter pushed the nose of his plane downward, diving toward the British front-line trenches. There, tightly packed ranks of German soldiers were chasing the retreating British troops.

As Carter pulled the trigger on his controller, a torrent of bullets rained down on the German soldiers below. The tightly clustered German troops charging forward were instantly mowed down, two rows deep.

Flesh and blood splattered everywhere as screams echoed through the battlefield!

The once surging tide of advancing German soldiers abruptly faltered. Many dropped to the ground, too terrified to get back up.

This airborne assault, combined with machine-gun fire, filled the soldiers with a visceral fear. It was not just the inability to evade; it was the full-scale assault from every conceivable direction that overwhelmed them.

At that moment, tens of thousands of elite German troops, on the brink of breaking through the enemy’s defenses and claiming victory, suddenly felt as though they were surrounded. Their soaring morale took an immediate and devastating blow.

Seizing the opportunity, the British forces steadied their position and reorganized their defenses.

A British officer, once a self-assured young man who dismissed the "Charles legend," now shouted in gratitude, “God, Charles has saved us!”

...

The German commander, Cross, a seasoned veteran of countless battles, was shocked by the French planes equipped with machine guns. Yet, he maintained his assessment that these planes were irrelevant to the overall battle.

“They only have six planes!” Cross shouted to his staff officer. “They can’t carry much ammunition. Order the troops to ignore them and continue advancing!”

Soon, Cross's orders were relayed to the front lines:

“Keep advancing; they’re running out of bullets!”
“Press forward; those planes can’t stop us!”

...

But the soldiers didn’t believe it.

On the battlefield, officers often told “lies” to spur soldiers to charge enemy lines without regard for their own lives. Such lies were all too common:

“The enemy is on the verge of collapse!”
“We’re just here to reap the glory of victory!”
“The enemy is running out of artillery shells; we’re about to win!”

...

By the time soldiers realized the truth, it was often too late to question the lies.

Veterans, weary of these falsehoods, judged this to be yet another “tall tale” from their superiors.

So, when two planes dove down again, spitting streams of fire at them, the German troops began retreating. At first, it was orderly, but under the relentless aerial pursuit, they broke into a full-blown rout. Soldiers tumbled and crawled through the muddy ground in sheer panic.

Meanwhile, the battle in the sky continued. More than a dozen "Avro" planes appeared, advancing toward the German balloons under the cover of fighter planes.

Any German aircraft attempting to ram the “rocket planes” were swiftly intercepted and shot down by the fighters.

“Boom! Boom!”
“Boom!”

...

Three observation balloons exploded into brilliant fireballs in the sky, disappearing without a trace in a matter of moments.

One balloon, attempting to descend rapidly, seemed to sense the danger and was being hurriedly reeled back to the ground. However, it was still low enough that the explosion’s flames engulfed a hundred German soldiers, plunging the area into chaos.

An enraged Cross stormed out of the command post, glaring at the planes still wreaking havoc above as he bellowed at his staff officer, “They’re nothing but flies! While we can’t swat them away, they’ll be useless if we simply ignore them. Relay this to everyone!”

“Yes, General!” the staff officer responded, promptly organizing the frightened soldiers.

But just as Cross turned to head back to the command post, a sudden explosion erupted behind him.

Turning around in confusion, Cross immediately recognized the sound of an explosion from the artillery positions.

A messenger rushed over to report, “General, enemy planes have attacked our artillery positions. An ammunition cart exploded!”

Cross froze, a chill running through him. For the first time, he realized these were no insignificant “flies.”

Upon returning to the command post, Cross sent a telegram to Chief of Staff Falkenhayn:

“It is confirmed that the French have mounted Maxim machine guns on their planes, very likely another innovation by Charles!”
“Though the number of planes is limited, and their ammunition supply isn’t extensive…”
“However, flying at speeds of 100 kilometers per hour, they can strike any vulnerable point in our forces!”
“Artillery positions, ammunition trucks, field hospitals, warehouses, even my command post!”
“Not a single spot is safe. This weakness must be addressed immediately, or it will become a nightmare for our army!”

Falkenhayn, upon receiving the telegram, dismissed its significance with a simple reply: “Then let the infantry set up Maxim guns to shoot them down. They’re not worth worrying about!”

Cross read the reply with a look of resignation.

The Chief of Staff might have been an excellent strategist, but his tactical understanding was detached from reality.

Setting up Maxim guns at every vulnerable rear position that might be attacked by enemy planes would leave none for the front lines. This, in itself, was a failure.

Yet Cross said nothing. From the words “not worth worrying about,” he knew Falkenhayn, like everyone else, still didn’t take airplanes seriously.

Clutching the telegram, Cross let out a heavy sigh, his expression grim. “The nature of warfare is about to change, but only the blood of soldiers will make them realize their mistakes.”

He was the first officer, besides Charles, to grasp the significance of air power—or perhaps the only one.

Even King Albert I and General Charles believed this victory was merely a stroke of luck.

“Charles knows how to scare off the enemy!” King Albert I said with satisfaction as he gazed at the darkening sky. “He’s bought us precious time!”

“Yes!” General Charles agreed. “It’s hard to imagine what would have happened if the Germans had pressed on regardless. A few planes couldn’t have stopped their assault!”

...

At the Rodensay airfield, one fighter after another landed on the tarmac.

The ground crew, having received news of the front-line victory, gathered to congratulate the pilots.

However, the pilots weakly dismounted their planes, collapsing to the ground as soon as they could. Some were pale and gasping for air, while others doubled over, vomiting violently.

Carter, in particular, retched uncontrollably, coughing painfully as his bloodshot eyes filled with despair. He could not erase the image of bodies bursting apart like discarded trash under his plane’s strafing fire—a scene that flashed before his eyes again and again.

He couldn’t believe those deaths were caused by his own hands. He felt like a murderer, a maniac...

Even though he knew they were the enemy, even though he knew it was the right thing to do.

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