I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 76

Chapter 76: The National Fortress

Charles had always thought that the plane was flying through clouds, though he had noticed the strange scent in the air.

Before long, the pilot lowered the altitude, piercing through layers of thick mist. Suddenly, the fiery explosions of artillery shells seemed to erupt just below, their blasts shaking the wings of the plane. It was then that Charles realized the “clouds” were actually the smoke of artillery fire.

“Look!” the pilot exclaimed excitedly. “We’ve arrived—Antwerp is just ahead!”

Charles wanted to see Antwerp from the air, but he was disappointed. Below him, there was nothing but scattered points of firelight. The smoke of war obscured even the faintest light, making it feel like night, though it was clearly morning.

The plane continued to descend, and Charles worried that the shells whistling past below might strike them. Nearby, trails of smoke from shellfire streaked through the air.

A few minutes later, the sound of cannon fire gradually faded, and the sky brightened slightly. Only a few sporadic artillery shells burst in the distance ahead.

Looking back, Charles saw the area behind them enveloped in thick smoke. He could just make out the outlines of a few massive, balloon-shaped objects in the haze.

It seemed they had just flown through the war zone and were now entering the center of Antwerp’s fortress.

The plane circled the airfield above Antwerp twice before descending. When a soldier below waved a signal flag granting permission, the pilot lowered the altitude and landed the plane steadily on the runway.

“Well?” The pilot grinned triumphantly as he leaped from the plane. “Didn’t I tell you? We’d make it here safely!”

He pulled a flask from his pocket and took a few hearty gulps, as though rewarding himself.

“Hey!” A Belgian officer approached, wearing a flat-topped felt cap and a double-breasted navy-blue coat adorned with brass buttons. A pistol was holstered at his waist, and the stars on his collar indicated he was a major.

Still several meters away, the major rudely called out to Charles, “Frenchman! Are you here to reinforce us?”

Laughter rippled around them, making Charles realize that the words were a jab. He chose not to respond.

After giving brief instructions to the pilot, Charles stepped forward, straightened his posture, and saluted. Pulling his officer’s identification from his pocket, he handed it over. “Major, I’m here to investigate the situation.”

The major glanced at the identification and handed it back with a dismissive sneer, spitting to the side as he replied sarcastically, “Oh, wonderful. You’ve finally remembered us!”

Another burst of laughter echoed nearby.

Charles felt bewildered. As far as he knew, relations between Belgium and France had always been amicable. Yet this encounter suggested otherwise.

...

The Antwerp fortress was not a traditional European bastion or fort. It was a ring of 29 heavily fortified strongholds forming two defensive lines: the first line consisted of 21 forts, while the second had eight. These were spaced two to four kilometers apart and worked in conjunction with rivers and mountains to protect Antwerp at its center.

Although the Antwerp fortress was not as renowned as the Liège fortress, its strategic importance was far greater. The purpose of the Liège fortress was to block the German advance, but Antwerp’s fortress served as Belgium’s final line of defense. It was thus dubbed the “National Fortress.”

The fortress command center was in chaos. Urgent reports and requests for reinforcements flooded in, one after another, each more desperate than the last. General Gillis, the fortress commander, found himself powerless to respond.

At last, General Gillis ordered the signalmen to stop bringing reports to him, leaving the staff officers to handle them.

“They won’t make a difference anyway,” General Gillis muttered wearily, slumping in his chair to stare blankly into space.

Before the war, General Gillis had made a fatal error: he had ordered the garrison to clear and burn all vegetation around the forts.

In the general’s mind, war meant German soldiers marching in tight formations with bayonets fixed, charging at the forts. Clearing away trees and undergrowth would give the fortress’s machine guns and cannons a clear line of fire to decimate the enemy.

But in reality...

The Germans leisurely launched observation balloons into the sky. From these, their spotters directed heavy artillery to bombard the forts from over ten kilometers away with unnerving precision.

With the trees and undergrowth gone, the forts were fully exposed under the observation balloons’ watchful eyes.

Worse still, the Germans’ heavy artillery had a range of 14 kilometers—far greater than the 10-kilometer range of the fortress’s 200mm cannons.

As a result, General Gillis and the fortress garrison could do nothing but watch helplessly as the Germans methodically demolished one fort after another—one each day, with no effective countermeasures.

General Gillis was filled with regret. This disaster was undoubtedly his doing.

Still, he consoled himself: perhaps any other commander would have made the same mistake. Who could have foreseen this situation?

As he buried his face in his hands in frustration, a signalman cautiously approached. “General, a staff officer from France has arrived to investigate the situation. Would you like to meet him?”

General Gillis’s head shot up as though pricked by a needle, his eyes rekindled with hope. “From France? Bring him here, quickly!”

Under normal circumstances, a French staff officer would not have been able to meet General Gillis.

But this was wartime, and General Gillis had pinned Antwerp’s hopes on reinforcements from France and Britain. He was desperate to know France’s intentions.

However, when General Gillis saw the French staff officer, he was sorely disappointed. The man was merely a second lieutenant—a child, it seemed.

“You mean... there was no one else?” General Gillis asked incredulously, studying the young officer.

The war had barely lasted a month, yet France had already exhausted its forces? Was this why they had sent a mere boy to investigate and negotiate?

Charles did not fully grasp the general’s meaning. He interpreted it literally and replied, “Of course, General! But they are busy chasing the Germans—they are winning!”

General Gillis’s expression softened. This was good news. If France was winning, they might yet reach Antwerp and help Belgium drive out the Germans.

With that thought, General Gillis rose politely and shook Charles’s hand. “Welcome, Lieutenant!”

Seated again, the general wasted no time. “So, once you confirm the fortress’s situation, will your forces deploy reinforcements?”

Charles hesitated. “I can’t answer that, General. That is beyond my duties.”

The general glanced at the insignia on Charles’s sleeve and nodded. “Ah, of course.”

His eyes glimmered faintly with resignation, as though he had abandoned all hope.

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