I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France Chapter 842: This Is True "Infiltration Warfare

The breeze blew through the Reims defensive line guarded by the 5th Bavarian Division of the LI Corps, carrying the morning mist.

(Note: LI is Roman nural, L stands for 50, I on the right signifies "plus 1", LI Corps is the 51st Bavarian Corps of the 18th Army Group)

The Reims defensive line is located two li outside the city. It was temporarily built by the French Army when there was danger in Reims, in order to prevent the flas of war from entering the city and endangering citizens.

Currently, Reims has already been ravaged by the flas of war beyond recognition.

Not long after the war broke out, the French and German armies fought fiercely here. After all, it’s a strategic location wedged between two rivers, contested several tis by both sides. Nearly half of the houses were destroyed by the war, and the original population of 120,000 had sharply declined to 70,000.

Nowadays, Reims is repeatedly changing hands between the French and German armies.

But for so reason, the population of Reims seed denser than imagined.

Major Wolfgang strode along the trench, shouting to the panicked soldiers on both sides: "Pick up your rifles. Instead of worrying whether there’s dynamite beneath your buttocks, worry about Shire’s tanks, which will soon appear before you."

So soldiers objected: "But Major, if there is dynamite under our feet, we won’t see Shire’s tanks at all."

"You fool!" Major Wolfgang cursed bitterly:

"Do you really believe there’s dynamite beneath your feet? That’s exactly what Shire wants, to make you believe you’re sitting on dynamite and lose heart for the battle."

"Use your brains to think!"

"If you want to bury dynamite along the entire defensive line, how much dynamite would be enough? Just to blow up us foot soldiers?"

The soldiers thought and felt it made sense.

Even without considering whether there’s enough dynamite, Shire’s armored forces could easily breach this defensive line, which didn’t even have ti to dig anti-tank trenches. Why bother burying dynamite?

With this thought, the soldiers gradually settled down and began busying themselves with organizing defenses.

Major Wolfgang looked at these disappointing subordinates, shaking his head as he walked.

Though "rumors end with the wise", most soldiers were already in the throes of war panic, easily swayed at the slightest wind, which Shire exploited.

Even if Wolfgang could persuade a small unit of soldiers to remain awake, the entire army was already restless and disheartened.

"Have a smoke, Major." A young captain approached, holding a packet of Overstolz, gesturing towards Major Wolfgang.

(The picture shows German dostic cigarettes "Overstolz", a famous Cologne brand during World War I, sparsely supplied to the front line, considered a luxury compared to army-issued "Yuno" cigarettes)

It was a locally popular cigarette at the front line, carrying the taste of ho, causing Wolfgang to unwittingly pause.

The captain seed newly assigned, Wolfgang thought, unfamiliar in appearance but speaking fluent German.

The captain generously pulled out two cigarettes and offered them while pulling the Major into the side trench to shield from the wind, and eagerly lighting the Major’s cigarette.

"A hassle, isn’t it?" the captain asked.

"Indeed." The Major exhaled a long puff of smoke, gazing anxiously at a glimr outside the trench: "As much as I hate to admit it, our opponent is Shire. Clearly those who ca from the Eastern Front underestimated his capabilities."

The Major referred to Hutier and the batch of Eastern Front generals he brought, placing the 18th Army Group in danger.

"You’re right, Major." The captain sneered: "But not only have they underestimated Shire, so have you."

"What?" The Major didn’t quite understand and turned to look at the Captain.

Suddenly he was shocked to find the Captain holding a gun.

"Bang"

"Bang bang!"

...

Major Wolfgang staggered a few tis, leaned against the trench wall, and sat down powerlessly, unable to comprehend what had happened.

Then he heard the captain rush out of the trench, shouting outside: "It’s the guerillas, the guerillas have infiltrated, they killed the Major!"

Following that, gunfire erupted outside the trench, evidently the "captain" had other accomplices.

In his dying monts, Wolfgang realized the "captain" was right, Wolfgang also underestimated Shire.

But it was already too late!

...

They were troops brought by Shire from Belgium.

The 9th Reconnaissance Brigade of the Belgian First Special Reconnaissance Army, composed of over five thousand soldiers, with Shire deploying only one battalion of about 1000 n in Reims.

Considering Belgians living on the border with Germany spoke German from childhood, Shire thought, why not gather these German-speaking soldiers for training?

This reconnaissance unit had long been lurking in Reims, posing as Reims citizens, holding authentic French identification issued by Shire.

Even though so of them couldn’t speak French and only German, it wasn’t unusual, as after Germany occupied Lorraine and Alsace, German was mandated while French was forbidden, forcing many young French in these regions to not speak French.

When the ti was right, they retrieved the German soldier uniforms and equipnt prepared in cellars or secret compartnts, then blended into the German Army.

They underwent strict training; their training manual was derived from German prisoners, learning about the German Army’s lifestyle and details, including their swearing habits.

Only Shire knew, this was the upgraded version of "Hutier Tactics", what in WWII played a pivotal role as the "Brandenburg Division", the true "infiltration warfare".

...

Hutier was montarily stunned, his command post under attack, and the attackers were "German soldiers".

Everyone was dressed in German army uniforms, shouting fluent German, wielding Mauser rifles, employing German attack tactics.

Their claid unit composition was indeed real:

"We are the 52nd Infantry Division, 162nd Infantry Regint, what part are you from?"

"This is the Army Group Headquarters, cease attack imdiately."

"No, you are spies, the headquarters is at the town hall!"

Then rifles, machine guns, mortars bombarded the headquarters relentlessly, even summoning actual German troops for assistance.

Eventually, even the headquarters couldn’t distinguish between "German soldiers" and genuine German Army.

The other units fared no better; their command posts were attacked, plunged into chaos, while the raiders shouted:

"The guerillas have infiltrated, they impersonate us."

"It’s them, they attacked the headquarters, they are spies!"

"Bang bang."

"Rat-a-tat-tat..."

Inside Reims City, everyone was on edge, no one could guarantee whether those beside them were comrades or enemies, what you thought was a comrade might suddenly turn the gun on your back and pull the trigger when you turned.

All of Reims City descended into chaos, gunfire and explosions filled the air, buildings ablaze in the wind, German soldiers running frantically and in complete disarray.

Hutier watched the scene, fearfully exclaiming: "God, this is true infiltration warfare, how naive I was to believe my infiltration tactics could surpass Shire’s!"