The next morning, nothing came back to life.
The long Ypres front line was extremely terrifying. There were almost no living creatures, no birds, insects, ants, and even the extremely resilient mice and cockroaches were nowhere to be seen.
Corpses were everywhere; human, animal, and plant. A strange smell permeated the air, whether from the remnants of poison gas or rotting corpses, one could look around and feel as if the end times had arrived.
The command post of the 79th Infantry Division of the 26th German Army, this was a semi-enclosed bunker fortification.
Major General Jonas sat on an ammunition box, drinking coffee while skimming through the French newspapers delivered by the signalmen.
Actually, he didn’t need to look to know that the entire world was extensively reporting on the poison gas warfare initiated by Germany, and without exception, all were condemnations:
"Poison gas warfare is inhumane. We should ban its use!"
"This is a human tragedy; it brings out the darkest side of humanity to its extreme!"
"Poison gas warfare will destroy humanity; no one can control this demon, not even the Germans, and they will inevitably suffer backlash!"
Major General Jonas smiled slightly. He put down the newspaper, got up leisurely, and took a few steps with his coffee cup in hand, his gaze jumping through the firing slit towards the French defense line a kilometer away.
These foolish people, thought Jonas, your army is losing, so of course, you describe the poison gas as a demon.
How is it any different from machine guns and artillery?
Don’t they all kill people?
Do they think that a bullet shattering someone’s brain, or an artillery shell blowing someone into pieces, or shrapnel slicing open a belly to let someone die slowly in pain, are more humane than poison gas?
At this moment, Major Ralph returned with his troops. They were the scout unit sent out by Jonas.
Ralph squeezed into the bunker and stood at attention before Jonas, reporting:
"General, there is no residual poison gas detected ahead."
"The French 43rd Division is directly in front of our army; they have no fighting spirit and are ready to retreat at any time."
Jonas’s gaze remained fixed on the French defense line as he asked coldly, "However what?"
"The 105th Infantry Regiment, General," Major Ralph replied. "They say the 105th Infantry Regiment has reinforced the 43rd Division, but their exact location is unclear."
"105th Infantry Regiment?" Jonas was taken aback, the number sounded familiar.
Then he suddenly turned to Ralph and asked, "Shire’s army? Are you saying Shire is directly in front of us?"
"No, General," Ralph replied, "it is indeed Shire’s army, but they say Shire himself has not come. He is likely commanding from Paris."
Jonas made a sound of acknowledgment and nodded slightly.
This made sense. Otherwise, if he ordered the release of poison gas, Shire would either become a corpse or be captured wounded.
After thinking for a while, Major General Jonas turned to the staff officer and said, "Send a telegram to General Stephen, requesting permission to launch an assault on the enemy’s defense line."
"Yes, General," the staff officer responded, immediately issuing the order to the signalmen.
Since the day before, Major General Jonas had been requesting an attack; this was his fifth request.
Jonas believed this was an opportunity. The sudden poison gas attack had shattered the enemy’s morale, making this the best time to assault, even if it meant risking being affected by any residual poison gas.
War always involves risks and casualties. At other times, achieving such a victory might require dozens or even hundreds of times the price.
However, General Stephen always responded:
"Stay calm, Jonas, we need not rush."
"If we can win the first battle, we can win the subsequent ones too."
"We should gain experience from this and then defeat the enemy completely for a decisive victory!"
These words made sense; as long as the enemy had not found a way to counter the poison gas, the German Army could consistently win.
Nevertheless, Jonas still worried about missing the opportunity.
Now, the enemy had sent Shire’s army to the front. Could it be that Shire had found a way to deal with the poison gas?
No, Jonas quickly dismissed this idea.
If Shire had found a way, he shouldn’t be hiding in Paris but should be with his troops.
Soon, the staff officer returned with a telegram: "General, General Stephen has agreed to our request, but he thinks we should start with a conventional attack."
Jonas made a sound of acknowledgment to show his understanding.
Since the German Army had launched the attack hurriedly, their poison gas reserves were not sufficient; they needed to use their "best steel at the edge of the blade."
Jonas observed through the binoculars for a while. He noticed the enemy on the opposite side seemed to be constructing fortifications, and some dust was faintly rising above the trenches.
Jonas took out his pocket watch, glanced at it, and ordered, "All units prepare to attack in ten minutes!"
"Yes, General!" the staff officer responded, running quickly towards the trenches to issue the order.
The order was passed down. German soldiers immediately stood up and began to organize their equipment; some put bullets in their rifles, some poured out half of the water in their canteens to lighten the load, and some stuffed a few more grenades into their bags.
Then, one by one, they stood gripping their rifles, quietly waiting in front of the trenches.
Their breathing grew heavier, bayonets gleaming in the sunlight.
The officers walked around, loudly reassuring the soldiers: "Relax, boys! They are already terrified by the poison gas. This time will be just like before; we just need to charge up, capture their defense line, and that’s it!"
A sharp whistle pierced the air. At the same time, shells whistled overhead and crashed into the enemy positions with great force.
German soldiers shouted as they climbed the ladders to the ground and stumbled through the muddy terrain of Ypres towards the enemy trenches.
They hoped their officer was right, that this battle would be as easy as the previous ones, and they hoped it would always be .
But in reality, the enemy’s counterfire was fierce.
To be precise, it wasn’t fierce, it was precise. Their bullets seemed to have eyes, constantly taking down officers, machine gunners, medics, and other key personnel.
This made the Germans feel colder the further they advanced:
Without officers, they lost their command and leadership.
Without machine gunners, they lost their firepower cover.
Without medics, what filled their minds was the thought of lying alone in a shell crater, waiting for death to arrive, eventually.
For the soldiers, it was almost like charging to their deaths before the enemy’s defense line, dying miserably!
Major General Jonas, observing the battle, felt it too.
The enemy didn’t have more machine guns or dense artillery shells, but strangely, it seemed they were suppressing the German Army, exerting an invisible pressure felt by everyone, including Major General Jonas himself.
Was this the strength of Shire’s army?
Major General Jonas felt puzzled. What exactly was Shire trying to do?
Why did he deploy such an elite unit to the front line to face poison gas?