Mission & Marching

3rd Armored Division, Verdun Garrison

French Army Headquarters, Verdun

7 May 1935

To: Capitaine Étienne Moreau

Commanding Officer, 3rd Armored Division – Reconnaissance Detachment

Subject: Reconnaissance Mission to Bouzonville and Surrounding Border Region

Capitaine Moreau,

As of recent intelligence reports, regional command has received multiple accounts of unusual military activity near the Bouzonville sector, along the eastern border. While no confirmed violations have been reported, there have been persistent observations from local gendarmerie and civilian sources regarding suspicious movements near the demarcation line. Given the sensitivity of the situation, it is imperative that we conduct a direct assessment.

You are hereby ordered to lead a detached reconnaissance force to Bouzonville and the surrounding border region. Your primary objectives are as follows:

Investigate the area for any signs of foreign military presence, activity, or infrastructure development.

Gather intelligence from local authorities and civilians regarding recent sightings or disturbances.

Confirm the status of any French patrols previously assigned to this sector.

Observe and report back to command with findings.

Under no circumstances are you to initiate hostilities or engage in any actions that may escalate tensions. However, in the event of a hostile confrontation, you are authorized to take necessary defensive measures to ensure the safety of your unit.

Your detachment will consist of one company of infantry (120 men), two Renault R35 light tanks, one Panhard 178 armored reconnaissance vehicle, and three Citroën-Kégresse P19 half-tracks for transport and logistics. This composition will allow for both tactical mobility and adequate force projection should the need arise.

Your findings will be reported directly to me upon your return. In the event of an urgent development, use field communication channels to relay immediate intelligence. Maintain radio discipline and be mindful of operational security.

This mission is of high strategic importance, and I trust your judgment in executing it with the professionalism expected of an officer of your standing.

Signed,

Colonel Pierre Perrin

Commandant, Verdun Garrison

French Army – 3rd Armored Division

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The letter sat on Moreau's desk, the ink barely dry.

It bore the stamp of regional command, the signature of Colonel Perrin.

The wording was careful, but the meaning was clear enough.

Reports had surfaced about unusual activity near the border, around the town of Bouzonville, and someone had to be sent to investigate.

Moreau had read it three times, hoping the words would shift, soften, change their meaning.

They didn't.

The orders were simple observe, confirm, report.

No engagement unless fired upon.

A standard reconnaissance mission on paper.

He let out a slow breath, tossing the letter onto his desk before rising to his feet.

Moreau made his way toward the motor pool, his boots crunching against the dirt as he crossed the yard.

Renaud was already there, leaning against a stack of crates, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

He had undoubtedly heard the news before Moreau even had the chance to tell him.

Information traveled fast in a place like this. Renaud watched as mechanics checked the engines of the Renault R35 tanks, their greasy hands working efficiently over the clanking machinery.

Beside them, infantrymen were preparing their gear, rolling up bedrolls, checking their MAS-36 rifles, fastening their ammunition pouches.

Moreau came to a stop beside him.

Renaud didn't look at him, just shook his head slightly and let out a low whistle. "You're telling me," he said, voice thick with irritation, "that we're about to drive straight to the border, poke around, and then what? Wave at the Germans and go home?"

Moreau smirked, glancing at the nearest Renault R35 as one of the mechanics climbed up to check the turret mechanism. "That's the idea," he said.

Renaud scoffed. "I hate this already."

"Good," Moreau said, adjusting his gloves.

"That means you'll stay sharp."

Renaud sighed, finally turning to face him. "You realize what this is, don't you?"

Moreau tilted his head slightly, waiting.

"They're sending us because they don't want to send someone important," Renaud muttered. "If we find nothing, they win. If we find something, they'll pretend we didn't. Either way, command gets to say they acted responsibly."

Moreau nodded slightly, rubbing his chin as he considered the words.

It was true, of course.

The army, especially at this stage, was still trying to convince itself that Germany was bound by treaties, that Hitler was posturing rather than preparing.

And yet, intelligence reports were trickling in, vague but persistent.

Unusual troop movements, increased activity at the border, unexplained disappearances.

It was only a matter of time before those whispers turned into something undeniable.

But atleast it won't be until 1936, which is next year.

Renaud studied his expression. "And if we get shot at?"

Moreau exhaled slowly. "Then we're just very unlucky."

Renaud smirked. "Unlucky seems to follow us."

Moreau shook his head, turning his attention back to the preparations.

The detachment was small but well-equipped for a mission of this nature.

A company-sized force, roughly one hundred twenty men, a mix of riflemen, machine gunners, and a mortar team for support.

They had two Renault R35 light tanks, slow and underpowered compared to the German panzers, but armored enough to withstand light fire.

Three Citroën-Kégresse P19 half-tracks provided transport and reconnaissance, and a single Panhard 178 armored car was assigned to lead the scouting efforts.

The men moved with the kind of efficiency that came from routine, checking and rechecking their equipment, loading spare ammunition, filling fuel canisters, securing provisions.

The half-tracks were stacked with rations, water, and additional fuel for the journey, along with spare parts in case of mechanical failures.

The Renaults stood ready, their dull green paint blending into the environment, their 37mm guns sitting idle but prepared.

Perrin had chosen Moreau for this mission, and that alone was significant.

There were safer choices, men who would conduct the mission mechanically, report back that all was well, and move on.

Moreau wasn't one of those men.

He would look too closely, ask too many questions, and if something was wrong, he would say so.

That was what made him useful.

That was also what made him a liability to certain people in high command.

The afternoon wore on as the final checks were completed.

Moreau stood by the lead half-track, watching the last of the supplies being secured when one of the junior officers approached.

"Capitaine, everything is ready. We can move within the hour."

Moreau nodded, glancing at Renaud. "No turning back now."

Renaud sighed dramatically. "I was really hoping for an uneventful week."

Moreau smirked, climbing into the lead vehicle. "You signed up for the wrong army."

The convoy moved out before sunset, kicking up dust as it left the barracks behind.

The road to Bouzonville stretched ahead, winding through rolling hills and open fields, the trees lining the path swaying gently in the evening breeze.

The journey would take several hours, and along the way, Moreau settled into the rhythm of military travel.

The half-tracks rumbled along, their engines humming steadily. Inside, men sat quietly, some chatting in low voices, others simply staring at the passing countryside.

The armored car led the way, its turret manned, eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of movement.

The Renault tanks brought up the rear, their heavy treads leaving deep impressions in the dirt road.

Renaud sat beside Moreau in the lead half-track, stretching his legs out slightly as he adjusted his helmet.

"You ever think about how ridiculous this is?" he muttered.

Moreau raised an eyebrow. "What part?"

Renaud gestured vaguely. "We're driving out to the border because someone saw something, but no one actually wants to acknowledge what we might find."

Moreau leaned back slightly. "You sound like you're questioning your faith in the Republic."

Renaud snorted. "I have plenty of faith in France. I just don't have faith in the men running it."

Moreau smirked. "That makes two of us."

The sun dipped lower and the road grew narrower as they neared their destination, the fields giving way to denser woodland.

The border was still some distance away, but the tension among the men was already noticeable.

Moreau could feel it too.

Even if he knows the future, it doesn't mean everything will be same as in his previous life.

God knows if somehow they really found some german troops.