Colonel Estini's unit, after breaking through the German defensive line, pressed southward without stopping. Meanwhile, to the south in Tamon, Colonel Brownie also managed a breakthrough, advancing northward along the road. One advancing from the south, the other from the north, their movements clearly formed a pincer aimed at Lafoux.
Colonel Brownie, despite not fully understanding the tactical intricacies, knew that Charles's strategy had once again prevailed. Ecstatic, he climbed atop a tank and shouted down to his soldiers, "Salute Charles!" He raised his revolver and fired two celebratory shots into the air. The soldiers cheered and followed his example, firing jubilant shots into the sky.
Colonel Estini, who had led the assault on Andelusi, had a more subdued response. Sitting in the sidecar of a motorcycle, he watched the cheering soldiers, the tanks carrying troops onto the roads, and the lines of German prisoners being escorted back—more than two thousand captives in total, exceeding even his own forces. A sense of pride filled his heart, one he had never felt before.
Estini had tasted victory before, but never with such ease and totality. The proud German army, which had once marched through Paris and humiliated France for decades, now lay trampled underfoot.
What impressed Estini the most, however, was Charles's tactics, which had enabled perfect coordination between infantry and tanks. Even the tank crews, mostly novices, had been thrown into these mobile coffins after just two days of training. Although initially vomiting from the motion, two weeks later, they had achieved a flawless victory. This was the power of the "Three-Three Formation," Estini thought, recalling Charles's teachings.
"We should use the Three-Three Formation," Charles had told him.
"Three-Three Formation?" Estini had ventured, "You mean organizing each group into three tanks?"
"Exactly!" Charles replied, "Each platoon has three tanks, each tank company has three platoons, and with the command team, that makes twelve tanks in total."
Estini had asked, puzzled, "Why three tanks, and not two or four?"
"Because they're all novices, Colonel," Charles had explained. "And the tanks lack communication equipment, making coordination difficult."
Charles's words had initially baffled Estini—how did that relate to the Three-Three Formation? Charles, sensing his confusion, had smiled, arranging three small flags in a triangle on the table.
"With three tanks, we can arrange them in a triangular formation, placing the best commander at the forefront."
Estini had nodded, beginning to understand. "And the two rear tanks don't need to think or communicate; they just follow the lead tank."
"Exactly," Charles had replied. "The lead tank handles the attack and breakthrough, the left flank provides cover, and the right flank offers reinforcement."
Enlightened, Estini realized, "Each role is predetermined and practiced in training, so in battle, they know what to do even without orders!"
"Yes," Charles had confirmed. "And if an order is needed, we only need to relay it to the lead tank, greatly simplifying communication."
Without a communication system, Charles had minimized the need for one. Another advantage of this formation was that it allowed new recruits to be effective quickly: they didn't need to know all the tactics or even the reasoning behind them. They just needed to follow their platoon leader and perform their role.
This might be somewhat rigid, but it was far better than the chaos of untrained soldiers rushing blindly. As long as the enemy couldn't discern the pattern, these recruits could be as effective as seasoned veterans. In combat, they performed like seasoned soldiers.
Estini had gained a profound respect for Charles's organizational and training methods. The proof was before him: the tanks advanced in harmony, with seamless mutual support. The entire battle had proceeded smoothly, and not a single tank was lost—only one had broken a track while crossing a trench.
In awe, Estini thought, Charles isn't just a genius at designing tanks; he's also capable of building the strongest military force. He's truly born for war!
He then realized something remarkable: if these tank troops gained experience, the Three-Three Formation principle would allow for easy expansion. Veteran soldiers could train two new recruits each, splitting into three platoons. With each new battle, they would grow stronger and more numerous. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on ɴoᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt
My God, he thought, in the future, will anyone be able to stand against him?
With Charles at the helm, France wouldn't just look down on Germany, but on the entire world.
Meanwhile, at Lafoux's main command center in Ferfort, Joffre's headquarters had erupted into chaos. Advisors shouted orders into telephones, runners and messengers darted back and forth, while reports piled up on Joffre's desk. Each report boiled down to the same message:
"They've broken through the Andelusi line; the Germans are in retreat!"
"They've breached Tamon's defenses—over three thousand Germans have surrendered!"
And then came more shocking statistics about the captured prisoners and minimal losses. Colonel Carnet looked over the reports, his expression incredulous. "Could they be mistaken? How could a force of a thousand take three thousand prisoners?"
Carnet was convinced there was an error somewhere: perhaps a zero was missing in Charles's troop count, or added erroneously to the number of prisoners—or both.
Joffre was uninterested in these details. Glancing at the empty spots on his map, he snapped, "I need to know their exact location. Are our intelligence capabilities so feeble that we can't even locate our own forces?"
An aide approached, trying to remain calm. "General, Charles's units have penetrated deep behind enemy lines and are moving fast. We simply can't keep up with them to gather more details."
"Send out the planes, then!" Joffre barked, growing increasingly frustrated.
But Carnet stepped in to object. "General, remember that General Gallieni has warned us: once the fighting starts, Charles's fighter planes are authorized to shoot down any aircraft over Lafoux—including ours."
Joffre, his mouth half-open in stunned silence, realized that although he was the French commander-in-chief with the authority over millions, he was shut out of this one small battlefield where Charles reigned supreme.
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