I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France

The German 5th Army is an elite unit, and the 51st Infantry Regiment, which holds the main attacking task, is the elite among the elites. Most of the soldiers in this regiment are veterans who have been through battles, and many are discharged soldiers who returned to the unit after recovering from their wounds.

Their combat quality and fighting will are both considered first-class.

However, when faced with this strange situation and the horrific scene of their comrades being struck down in batches, they were so scared that their legs went weak, and they turned around to flee on all fours.

In fact, it wasn't just the German soldiers who were frightened, even the French soldiers in the defense line were also scared.

What was before them was not a pile of corpses and blood, most of these German soldiers were still alive, at least the majority of them were alive.

Some had half of their faces blown off, some had their eyes blown out and hanging on their faces, and there were those who, though without visible wounds, were trembling with their hands hovering in the air, wanting to scratch but not daring to...

The sounds of wailing, moaning, and cursing combined into a cacophony, with everyone rolling about in front of the French soldiers like a group of deadly ghosts or a mass of crawling worms.

Suddenly, the sound of a grenade explosion was heard. It was from those who couldn't bear the pain any longer and ended their lives by pulling the grenade pin.

This seemed to inspire the other German soldiers, and soon the sound of grenade explosions rose and fell without pause.

Some surviving German soldiers tried to occupy the trenches on the hilltop to confront the French Army, but soon there came a familiar and terrifying explosion from the trenches, followed by a chorus of screams once again.

Of course, the French Army wouldn't leave intact trenches for the German Army; directional mines had already been buried inside.

The French soldiers waited a while in the trenches and only emerged to start killing with bayonets when the German soldiers were almost spent, or rather, to end the German soldiers' suffering.

...

Crown Prince William had been staying in the Seventh Army command post, intending to enjoy the assault he commanded and the subsequent victory, a complete victory.

Listening to the continuous artillery fire outside, Crown Prince William's electric light slowly moved to the map's Verdun City and locked it in place.

"I hope we can take it before dawn," Crown Prince William said, "Street fighting will be more dangerous after dawn, by then they might be fully prepared."

Major General Bennett thought to himself, nighttime street fighting is even more dangerous because they are familiar with the terrain, they can navigate Verdun City with their eyes closed, but we cannot.

But Major General Bennett said nothing, instead, he confidently replied with a smile, "Rest assured, Your Highness, we will soon be strolling the streets of Verdun City, though there might only be ruins there."

Crown Prince William laughed heartily, "That is the most beautiful scenery, General, I can't wait to see it!"

(Above is a picture of Verdun City after the war, a squad of French soldiers marching through the streets)

However, the communications soldier who had been waiting by the phone suddenly turned to Major General Bennett, "General, the 23rd Infantry Regiment has been repelled, our casualties are heavy."

"What?" Major General Bennett's smile froze, then he cursed through gritted teeth, "Elias, that bastard, get him in front of me immediately."

"Yes, General."

Major General Bennett assumed it was an "accident" with a specific unit.

But within a few seconds, bad news continued to pour in:

"The 51st Infantry Regiment suffered over half casualties, Colonel Vito killed in action, requesting reinforcements."

"The 77th Infantry Regiment has been routed, Colonel Blayden wounded, requesting retreat!"

...

Major General Bennett was dumbfounded; these were the spearheading troops he had sent out, elite units, yet within just a few minutes, they were either routed or heavily wounded.

Crown Prince William frowned, "Do the enemies have reinforcements?"

"No, Your Highness," Major General Bennett shook his head in denial, "We have been using artillery to block the enemy's roads. Even if the enemy has reinforcements, they are small-scale and can't have much effect."

"Then it is..."

At this moment, a wounded soldier was carried into the bunker on a stretcher amid screams. It was Colonel Elias, commander of the 23rd Infantry Regiment.

Crown Prince William shone the flashlight on him and almost jumped in shock. Colonel Elias's face was torn in two pieces, and his body was covered in blood, looking like a living corpse.

"What's going on?" Major General Bennett stepped forward to ask.

"It was, it was a bomb," Colonel Elias's voice trembled with pain, gasping as he spoke, "I am not sure, not sure what it was, but it had a lot of shrapnel!"

The military doctor hurried over and swiftly used a scalpel to cut open Colonel Elias's uniform. What they saw under the flashlight made everyone shudder involuntarily:

Colonel Elias's body was covered in densely packed bleeding points. Each wound wasn't large, but they turned him into a beehive; even the experienced military doctor was unnerved.

After a moment of hesitation, the military doctor carefully cut open one bleeding point with a scalpel and used forceps to probe the wound, extracting a "fragment" as Colonel Elias groaned in pain.

With a delicate "ding," the "fragment" was placed on the tray.

Then another one...

Everyone soon understood that these were not shrapnel, but steel balls, small steel balls about 3 mm in diameter.

The military doctor, quite experienced, reported to Major General Bennett and Crown Prince William, "They seem to have filled the explosives with steel balls as shrapnel, which is why it's so deadly."

Major General Bennett glanced at the still-suffering Colonel Elias, and cast a questioning look at the military doctor.

The doctor understood and shook his head slightly in a helpless manner.

It was impossible to remove every steel ball from so many wounds; inevitably, some would be left inside.

Even if they could remove them all, he would still likely die from wound infections later. His current existence was just to endure suffering.

Crown Prince William squinted his eyes, "New equipment? Could it be, Shire?"

Everyone in the command post instantly changed their expressions.

...

Shire and Major General Lacos had moved the command post to the Saint Michael Fortress.

This was the closest fortress to Verdun City.

It had no real defensive function because the French Army had no defense line there; cannons had been removed, and even machine guns and ammunition had been moved to frontline fortresses.

One call after another came into the command post, and all reported good news:

"The 32nd Regiment defeated the enemy, with only 5 casualties."

"The 81st Regiment repelled the enemy's attack, suffering 13 casualties."

"The 19th Regiment..."

Major General Lacos couldn't stop smiling; he looked at Shire with satisfaction and exclaimed, "You were right, Brigadier, the killing power of the directional mines far exceeds our expectations. Although we haven't had time to tally up yet, the enemy's casualties must be dozens of times ours!"

Shire, however, did not care about this at all.

Using such advanced weapons as directional mines in densely lined charges of the First World War undoubtedly had significant lethal power.

His gaze fixed on the map's Duomont Fortress, and he asked Major General Lacos thoughtfully, "General, if the enemy is attacking our defense line and creating a lot of casualties, what would they use the fortresses behind them for?"

Major General Lacos froze and replied, "With nowhere to house their wounded, the fortresses would likely be converted into field hospitals."