Chapter 155: It Was All a Trap Set by Charles

Chapter 155: It Was All a Trap Set by Charles

In Ferrocourt, the rain suddenly intensified, yet it couldn't dampen the enthusiasm of the gathered journalists. Huddled in groups, they discussed the latest developments:

"Paris is over a hundred kilometers away—shouldn't the train arrive in about three hours?"

"Not necessarily. With all the wartime traffic, they could get delayed."

"Even so, they should be here by midday."

However, noon came and went with no sign of Charles's troops or tanks. Then, a troubling rumor began to spread: "Charles's train got delayed due to a landslide on the tracks, and workers are scrambling to clear it."

If Foch had heard this, he might have sensed something off, recalling similar tricks from past operations. But the journalists, accustomed to seeing railways weakened by the rains, didn't question it.

Joffre, too, received the news in his command post and chuckled with satisfaction. "By the time they arrive, it'll be close to nightfall," he said. "That means today's opportunity to launch the offensive is lost."

"Precisely," agreed his deputy, General Canese.

Everyone knew tanks were useless in nighttime battles—they had limited visibility and were easy targets for the Germans, who could blow them up or hit their flanks with K-bullets. Charles's offensive seemed to be starting on the wrong foot; he had already lost his chance before the first shot.

On the other side of the line, the Germans had a similar outlook. They went on high alert as soon as they heard Charles's forces had set out, expecting a possible probing attack to wear down their defenses or exhaust their ammunition. But nothing happened. The front fell into an eerie quiet, as if the war had paused. Only the occasional hum of French reconnaissance planes in the sky reminded them of the conflict.

In his command post, Halil paced anxiously. He despised the waiting—it drained his patience and energy. If battle was inevitable, he wished it would begin already; he was eager to see Charles's tanks blown to pieces.

Then a messenger handed him a telegraph. Halil read it under the dim light: "Charles's train is stalled due to a landslide on the tracks."

Halil blinked, then laughed, reading the news aloud to his staff. "Seems Charles has succeeded at least in one way—he's kept us busy for no reason."

The other officers joined in the laughter. "Stand down," Halil ordered. "Return to normal readiness."

Orders were passed down the line, and exhausted German soldiers, who had been nervously aiming over their trenches, let out sighs of relief. Many slumped back into the muddy trench floors, their weapons slipping from tired hands.

At the rear, artillery crews who had been preparing their guns quickly covered them, grateful for the reprieve.

In Ferrocourt, the journalists began dispersing. Many looked for a place to grab a meal and get some rest, resigned to waiting another day. Even Joffre's command staff lost interest, as their primary task was to observe every move Charles's forces made and analyze it. Now, it seemed they'd have to wait until tomorrow.

Then—BOOM! BOOM!—the sound of artillery fire echoed through the air. The battle had begun.

The journalists, stunned, looked toward the direction of the sound, realizing it came from both flanks of the Lafaux front, nearly ten kilometers away. They exchanged uncertain glances:

"Is that another unit firing?"

"It must be! Maybe they're just shooting randomly?"

"Lafaux is the only place worth attacking right now, and no other operation was planned…"

Then someone spotted Le Petit Journal's reporter running toward the phone booth, and a ripple of tension swept through the crowd. Le Petit Journal was notorious for paying insiders for privileged information, always securing the first scoop.

A military reporter suddenly exclaimed, "God, it's Charles! He tricked all of us! His forces weren't stalled—they used the time to position themselves on Lafaux's flanks and launched an assault!"

Faces around him turned pale as the realization sunk in.

Joffre hadn't heard the artillery fire. He was alone in his quarters, leaning back in his chair, listening to a soothing piano melody from his gramophone while gently stirring his hot coffee. His peace was interrupted by his deputy rushing in, voice urgent, "General, Charles has launched his attack!"

Joffre jumped, coffee spilling onto his clothes, the warmth and stickiness making him grimace. He shot an annoyed look at Canese while blotting the stain with a handkerchief. "What nonsense is this, Canese? How could Charles's forces just appear out of thin air?"

"General!" Canese's face was pale, yet his eyes held a trace of admiration. "Charles's troops were never stalled. They switched trains and faked the landslide. His forces divided and reached Lafaux from two flanks—they're attacking the German positions now!"

Joffre froze, handkerchief halfway to his coffee-stained chest, and stared at Canese in shock. "You're telling me… he fooled all of us?"

"Yes, sir," Canese confirmed with a nod.

Joffre dropped the handkerchief and bolted for the command room, his face twisted in fury, as though Charles was attacking not the Germans but his own headquarters.

Meanwhile, at the German defensive line, Halil had just laid down to rest. Though everything was damp and sleep was difficult, he forced himself to relax, knowing he needed rest to avoid burning out before the assault began.

The artillery fire snapped him awake, his reflexes honed to respond immediately to danger. As the reality sank in, his face turned ghostly pale. He realized Charles had tricked him—Lafaux's defenses might now be doomed.

An agitated messenger approached, announcing, "Colonel, we're under attack in Andelusi and Tamon! It could be Charles's forces!"

"Why?" Halil asked, fury simmering in his voice.

"Because they spotted tanks!" The soldier stammered. "It's Charles's tanks!"

Silence fell over the command post—a still, chilling silence. Andelusi and Tamon were crucial points along the Lafaux salient, where two artillery regiments had previously been stationed. At Halil's request, both regiments had been moved to fortify the defenses directly at Lafaux. Hundreds of artillery pieces and thousands of shells were aimed toward pre-designated fields of fire, waiting for Charles's tanks to attack from the front.

But Charles's tanks had appeared miles away, at Andelusi and Tamon.

All of this… had been a trap set by Charles.

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