Infantry group charge, an offensive tactic that was born around the same time as the infantry class.

From the moment it was born until now, it has hardly undergone any changes, and this most simple tactic can be said to have run through the entire history of human warfare.

Although with the continuous progress of science and technology and culture in human society, the weapons in the hands of soldiers have become more and more advanced, and at the same time, countless outstanding military strategists and genius generals and various advanced military ideas and theories have emerged, but no one has been able to come up with a new tactic that can replace the use of infantry group charges to win the final decisive victory in the battle.

The advent of tanks may have given a glimmer of hope to the military theorists who had been thinking about it for a long time, but they still failed to completely liberate the infantry from this tactic. At least until the advent of more powerful automatic weapons on the battlefield and a dramatic increase in infantry firepower, the infantry charge was the only regular tactic used by large army forces to attack, and this did not change until the outbreak of the Korean War.

It is true that the large leap in the firepower of the defenders will cause the armies that continue to use this ancient tactic to suffer huge losses that cannot be sustained, which has led some countries that cannot afford such huge human losses to develop new tactics suitable for their respective armies and lead to the emergence of more advanced weapons, but this does not mean that humanity has completely abandoned this ancient tactic.

In skirmishes in some backward areas, one can still see the shadow of this tactic that everyone thinks has been obsolete, and the warring sides have proved to the world its tenacious vitality with countless mutilated corpses and endless blood.

However, no one can deny that the infantry group charge is a test of the psychological quality and individual quality of a country's soldiers, and it is also a test of the psychological quality and combat quality of the soldiers on the defending side and the command level of the officers, and it is the most cruel and bloody test in battle.

"The French infantry is storming the front-line positions, sir! The French infantry began to charge in groups! ”

An observation sentry reported loudly.

"Order the artillery of each company to intercept the fire, and order all companies in the front-line position to hold their positions."

Major Murray was sitting in front of the telephone at this time, anxiously awaiting the report of the communication squad to restore the communication line, and he did not hesitate to give the order to the staff officer standing aside.

"Order the second-line troops to be ready for battle, and all regimental artillery immediately begin to block and shoot!"

With a cold order, Dogan led the surviving subordinates of the command headquarters into the shelter of the first battalion headquarters.

"Your Excellency, District Captain."

Murray and his staff officers hurriedly stood up and saluted the disgraced SS colonel.

Dougan didn't even glance at his respectful men, he hurried to the observation window of the shelter, took the binoculars from the sentinel, and looked ahead.

"Our firepower has been suppressed by those French tanks. Damn Rawls, he actually shifted positions without authorization, and I'm going to take him to court-martial! This incompetent fool! ”

Dougan angrily cursed the commander of the "Fenris" tank sniper battalion, if those cannons were still in their original positions, the French tank group should have become another pile of burning scrap metal three or four hundred meters away, and they would never be able to use machine guns and artillery to add casualties to their front-line troops one after another as they do now.

"Murray!"

Dougan turned sharply, and he shouted to the SS Major Battalion Commander who was standing behind him in a daze.

"Yes, sir!"

The SS major hurriedly puffed up his chest.

"What are you still doing standing here, have my orders been delivered?"

Dogan asked coldly with a frown.

"Huh? Your command ......"

Before Murray could come to his senses, he hurriedly cast a begging glance at his combat staff officer.

"We're getting ready to deliver, sir."

The reflexive combat staff officer hurriedly relieved his battalion commander of the siege.

"Then don't hurry up and issue it, order the regimental artillery to immediately cover the fire within a hundred meters of the front of our position, now the pressure on the front-line position is very strong, we must use all the artillery forces on our hands, we must withstand the attack of the French infantry!

One more, order the regimental reserves and the troops of the second-line positions to be immediately ready and ready to support the troops on the first-line positions at any time! The logistics company was ordered to speed up the replenishment of ammunition, and now the ammunition consumption of the front-line troops must be very large.

Also, immediately organize personnel to transport the wounded from front-line positions to the rear. Communications staff officer, immediately find a way to restore contact with the General Headquarters!

By the way, immediately send someone to the "Fenris" battalion and tell Major Rawls that if his cannon does not fire again in five minutes, then he is ready to change his clothes and wait to go to the penal labor camp to chop wood, and tell him so!

Okay, don't stand stupid, it's going on now, don't you have a job to do? Don't hurry up yet! ”

Dogen roared loudly at his men.

With Dogan's roar, everyone in the small battalion headquarters went into action.

In the previous period of time, Dougan had successfully engraved his deterrent power deeply in the hearts of every SS subordinate, and even Murray, an experienced field commander who had experienced dozens of battles, would be frightened to see Dogen start to go berserk, not to mention other staff officers, non-commissioned officers, and other small fish and shrimp, as a result, the chickens and dogs in the first battalion headquarters immediately jumped up. Even the staff officers and sergeants, who had nothing to do at hand, were jumping around in the shelter with a few pages of papers or two pieces of waste paper to show that they were working.

Dougan didn't care about that, he was now holding a telescope and watching the battle on the front line nervously. At this time, if anyone had the heart to observe, he would have been surprised to find that for the first time, a look of panic appeared on Colonel Dogen's usually cold and calm face, because at that moment the German front-line troops had been caught in a bitter battle that they had never been able to do before.

"These Frenchmen are crazy!"

Warrant Officer Schmitt muttered through gritted teeth as he pulled a new 30-round magazine from the magazine on his waist and inserted it into the MP38's receiver.

"Keep shooting! Knock those damn French guys back! ”

Schmitt turned to shout at his men, then turned back and fired a long burst at the oncoming French infantry.

The French are crazy, this is the unanimous feeling of all German soldiers.

Looking at the French soldiers who were in a dense formation like locusts, dressed in shabby tawny military overcoats, carrying the same old and cumbersome equipment, carrying Adrian steel helmets that were almost indistinguishable from their original colors, carrying long, gray old bay rifles with faded 1914 bayonets, and screaming meaningless notes in their mouths, the young German defenders could not help but feel an inexplicable nervousness in their hearts.

Not because they were afraid of anything, these young Waffen-SS were fearless in the face of the enemy.

Their nervousness stemmed from the responsibility on their shoulders, and while they were confident that they would be able to withstand any enemy attack as long as they were alive, the number of enemies in front of them was clearly beyond what they knew.

The huge stormtrooper formation of the French infantry gave the German soldiers a sense of powerlessness that they had never felt before, because the number of soldiers in the German front-line positions was too thin compared to the large line-up of the attackers, and they were clearly inferior in firepower.

The Schmitt, like the other Waffen-SS platoons, defended a two-hundred-metre stretch of trench, with strong fortifications, standard configuration, and plenty of ammunition.

Schmitt's platoon was already considered the least lost unit among the front-line combat units, under the bombardment of French artillery, as well as the attack of French tanks, he lost only three soldiers, and seven more soldiers and two non-commissioned officers were damaged in various degrees.

Although Schmitt was extremely lucky compared to the 30 percent loss of the Harold platoon on his right flank, the number of casualties was only a statistic, and did not reflect the real situation on the battlefield.

In fact, the Schmitt platoon suffered more serious losses than the Harold platoon, losing its only 50mm mortar and two machine guns in the headless fly attack of the French tanks.

What saddened Schmitt the most was that his most powerful assistant, Sergeant Major Weissler, the deputy platoon commander, was seriously wounded by a British machine-gun bullet. As a result, he now has to take on all the command work of the entire platoon up and down by himself.

Now there were only four non-commissioned officers and one commanding officer left in the platoon, plus thirty armed soldiers. Thirty-five Mauser 98K rifles and two machine guns remained, one of which had been reinforced just before the battle, and four MP38 submachine guns, which were self-defense weapons issued to platoon commanders and three squad leaders.

And they were faced with a frantic charge of more than 500 soldiers of an entire French infantry battalion.

Although the Germans had sufficient ammunition, the weakness of the number of men and weapons prevented them from building a dense firepower barrier, and judging from the current situation of the Schmitt platoon, the German front-line positions were theoretically unable to stop the frenzied grouping advance of the French ** team.

The two sides of the battle were now close enough to be able to discern the faces of the opposing soldiers, and although the French soldiers had suffered heavy casualties under the stubborn resistance of the German infantry, everyone could see that the balance of victory had begun to tilt in favor of the French army.

With just another 100 meters of advancement, the French team will have the potential to make a new history, and this will be the last chance for the French to save the French Third Republic.

But no Frenchman could have known that none of the fighters who were desperately advancing, those who were saving the fate of France, in the last massive ground charge of the great French Third Republic on the Western Front, were real French citizens.

When the hard-topped cylindrical hat covered with a white cloth and a full sunshade appeared in the field of vision of the Waffen-SS soldiers, the two most powerful ground armed forces in the world finally collided, the fate of Germany and France was in the hands of two equally elite armies, and the scales of the goddess of victory swayed violently in the roars of the soldiers on both sides.

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