I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France Chapter 310: Revised - 310 The Initiative Is in the Enemy’s

Bahar’s fishing boat departed at dusk, taking only two guards and a communications team with a radio, and landed on the western side of the defensive line when night fell.

Bahar’s arrival was greeted with enthusiasm by the soldiers and civilians, as if he had injected a much-needed dose of morale into those on the brink of collapse.

Especially when Bahar loudly told them:

"Brave soldiers, the enemy can block our roads on land, but they cannot block our supply lines at sea!"

"I have co through smoothly, and I’ve brought food!"

As he spoke, his subordinates unloaded bags of flour from the fishing boat and laid them out in front of everyone.

The previously despondent Ottoman soldiers and militian erupted into cheers.

Bahar continued to shout:

"We can use wooden boats and fishing boats to transport food and ammunition overnight, it’s not difficult!"

"But we need two days to make enough boats."

"Just hold on for two days, and things will be different. Victory will ultimately be ours!"

The soldiers cheered even louder. Bahar brought them hope, the hope of victory, and the hope of survival.

But only Bahar knew that the so-called fishing boats and wooden boats did not exist; it was simply not realistic.

During the day, the Allies’ seaplanes would spot these boats, and battleships would sink them from kiloters away.

At night, the Ottoman coastal artillery couldn’t see the pitch-black sea, and enemy destroyers would seal off both sides of the cape.

That was why Bahar chose to depart at dusk, the transition period between day and night, when British laziness and relaxation gave him the opportunity to arrive safely.

...

The sound of artillery echoed.

In the trench, Shire lay on a bed made from ammunition boxes by Adrian, resting. His pillow was his backpack, and he didn’t dare take the marching blanket out of his pack because it would quickly beco useless in the damp environnt.

Next to his bed was a stump left by Ottoman soldiers, on top of which was a kerosene lamp. When lit, its smoky fla instantly filled the space with a choking sll.

Previously, Shire couldn’t stand this sll, but now he found it sowhat pleasant. It was like incense, driving away the sll of blood and corpses carried by the sea breeze.

In the flickering light, Shire stared at the planks supporting the trench ceiling, lost in thought.

He was puzzled by the state of the enemy at Point "A".

Since the fleet entered Saros Bay, it had intermittently bombarded them for hours, continuing into the night, with large-caliber shells occasionally hitting over their heads.

Shire had expected the Ottomans to choose to surrender at the latest tonight.

Most of them were militian, engineers, and logistics troops. These units hadn’t received much combat training and now found themselves in dire straits, they shouldn’t be able to hold out for long.

Nightfall was their best chance; they could leave their positions and sneak across the no man’s land to surrender to the French Army unnoticed.

But the reality was quite the opposite. It was already past eight o’clock at night, and only a handful of Ottoman militian had surrendered, two of whom were from the ANZAC; they beca captives and were forced by the Ottomans to dig trenches, finding an opportunity to escape.

What was keeping them from surrendering?

Is it bravery?

Or the desire to defend their holand?

Suddenly, a shadow flickered at the trench entrance, and Shire quickly grabbed the rifle by his bedside, aiming at the target with his finger already on the trigger.

"Hey, colonel, it’s ," Tijani said with a slightly nervous voice. "Relax, Adrian is guarding outside, there won’t be any enemies here!"

Tijani regretted montarily; he forgot it was Shire’s first day in combat, and such "rookies" often get overly nervous, grabbing their rifles and firing at any sudden movents.

Shire breathed a sigh of relief, placing the rifle back and speaking with a hint of embarrassnt, "Sorry, General, I don’t know what’s wrong with ."

"I understand," Tijani replied. "It’ll get better over ti. You’re just not used to it yet."

"Maybe!" Shire answered, feeling he would never get accustod to it.

Tijani did not press the matter further. He held a docunt, transcripts from interrogating surrendered Ottoman soldiers.

"The situation is clear," Tijani handed the docunt to Shire. "It’s not your plan that’s flawed, it’s that the enemy has counterasures."

Shire took the docunt and read it under the kerosene lamp, noticing a na: "Bahar?"

"Yes," Tijani, lying on Shire’s bed like a lump of mud, groaned comfortably, answering lazily, "Rember today at Buchia Village when the enemy blocked us for nearly twenty minutes, almost causing trouble? He defied orders and led troops to seize the position!"

Shire replied with an "Oh," realizing this guy had so skills.

"He’s a colonel," Tijani continued, "At least he should be a Major General or even a Vice Admiral, given that he directly commands three divisions, with an additional three divisions indirectly."

This wasn’t unusual on the battlefield; capable officers quickly gained command in battle situations, but promotions often lagged.

Tijani said, "He entered ’A’ point via sea route at dusk, treated by the Ottomans as a war hero, claiming to establish a mariti route."

Shire understood; Bahar used the "carrot and stick" approach to stabilize the troops at point "A".

Shire then furrowed his brow. If the enemy at Point "A" didn’t surrender, the Allies’ reinforcents couldn’t land. They might send a few thousand n to Shire’s defensive line.

Any more would be impossible; the line couldn’t accommodate them and it would be pointless, crowded n would lose half their numbers under enemy artillery.

Tijani rose, gulped so water loudly, then lay back heavily, turning over as though exhausted, his voice growing fainter, "They say Bahar demanded a minimum of two days of defense. Do you think we can hold out for two days?"

Shire didn’t reply imdiately. After a mont, he said, "You might have misunderstood ’minimum of two days’.

"What?" Tijani murmured in his sleep.

Shire responded, "You understood that Bahar asked them to hold for two days because that’s the limit for Point ’A’ soldiers, so we just need to hold out for two days, and the Ottoman Army will collapse."

Tijani mumbled back, "Isn’t that right?"

Shire smiled lightly, "There’s another possibility: two days later, the enemy is confident of breaking through our line, so Bahar asked them to hold for two days."

Tijani seed to have fallen asleep, unresponsive for a few seconds.

Suddenly, he jerked upright, turned, and looked at Shire in shock, "You an, the initiative is with the enemy? We only have two days to force them to surrender?"