My own war game

Chapter 50: A Night for All Parties

A kerosene lamp was lit and someone held it high in his hand. Under the dim light, He Chi took out the scalpel and removed a bloody bullet from Jason's shoulder.

When cleaning the wound, He Chi picked up a glass bottle and said, "Bear with it, the medical alcohol is used up, and pouring this on it may not feel good."

"Ohhhh!! Fuck the Krauts! XXXX@@@#!!"

A bottle of clear liquid was poured on the wound, and the burning pain on the French lieutenant's face twisted, and he uttered dirty words.

In the past, a lady like Christine would have frowned in disgust and hid far away, but now the blonde girl just raised the kerosene in her hand a little higher so that He Chi could see it clearly.

He Chi's work was completed, and Camille took over to bandage Lieutenant Jason.

"Hey, man, what did you give me? It was really powerful!" The lieutenant gritted his teeth and acted like a tough guy.

"Whiskey. The previous male owner of this place must have been an alcoholic. The liquor was 60% alcohol, but the proportion was not standard. But we have a lot of this stuff now." He Chi raised the bottle in his hand.

"Whiskey?!" The lieutenant's eyes lit up. "Can I have some?"

"Lieutenant, the injured cannot drink..." Margaret wanted to persuade him, but was stopped by He Chi. "Forget it, let the lieutenant have some. It's okay to drink a little at this time."

He Chi handed over the bottle and the second lieutenant took it. The spicy taste made the Frenchman very addicted.

The two nurses looked at each other and no one said anything. After all, the lieutenant could still drink this glass, but some people would never have the chance again.

On a small wooden bed not far away, a white sheet was covering a person's body. A soldier named Pete had unfortunately died in the battle just now.

The war was cruel to both sides. The retreating German troops suffered heavy casualties, and the French squad suffered equally tragically. Except for one person who was killed, almost all the rest were injured. Lieutenant Jason's arm was almost broken. In the end, even Christine picked up a weapon and started fighting.

"So we don't have to have a blackout anymore?" Camille pointed weakly at the kerosene lamp.

"No need for that. We will have no secrets after today." He Chi looked at the broken wall outside the window and said as he listened to the rumbling sound of cannons in the distance.
-
At the same time, the French headquarters was dozens of kilometers away.

"The American and Canadian troops are advancing smoothly. Yesterday afternoon, they had advanced to a position 10 kilometers away from the Somme River. The British Saxon Regiment has recaptured the previous fortress and is repairing the damaged pontoon bridge. The mobile forces of our five divisions on the Eastern Front have slowed down the retreat of the Second Army." Leon Phillips, who has returned to Marshal Pétain, was earnestly explaining to his chief officer in front of the sand table. It seemed that what happened a few days ago had no effect on him at all.

"Very good, but the front-line troops must pay attention to the rhythm of the attack and not become the first to be attacked by the British or Americans." Marshal Pétain was in a good mood. His previous plan was very successful. He appropriately contracted the defense line and involved the Allied second-line troops, including the Americans who were ready to take advantage. Now the Germans were facing the military forces of the whole of Europe and North America.

He did not tell others another piece of good news. According to the news brought back by his own informant in Berlin, if the German army suffered one or two more defeats, the confidence of the German High Command would completely collapse, and there would be a great possibility that they would propose conditional surrender in exchange for a ceasefire.

Of course, the wounded beast and the gambler who has bet to his last chip are the most dangerous. Especially at such times, we must not relax our vigilance against the Germans.

"Is there anything unusual on the front line?" the marshal asked his adjutant.

"Yes, the reconnaissance plane reported that at least one regiment of German troops is transporting very suspicious items to the front line. According to the information provided by the intelligence personnel, those things are very likely the mustard gas bombs used by the Germans in Ypres last year." Marshal "Mustard Gas" picked up his monocle and rubbed it gently, chewing on the word over and over again.

Compared to the chlorine gas that Germany first used in Belgium in 1915, mustard gas is already their second-generation product. It appeared on the battlefield for the first time last year and deeply shocked the Allied troops with its more terrifying lethality and sequelae.

Because it was developed late, the German army lacked experience in its use and therefore did not use it on a large scale on the battlefield. However, pulling it out at this time showed that the enemy was determined to fight to the death.

"Let the General Staff analyze the places where the enemy may use mustard gas, and give me a list of gas masks equipped for front-line troops." Marshal Pétain attached unprecedented importance to this news. Although gas masks can reduce the damage of poison gas to the respiratory system to a certain extent, mustard gas has an all-round impact on humans. Any skin exposed to the outside may be seriously damaged.

"Sir, our people have analyzed it and found that the use of mustard gas has relatively stringent requirements on wind speed, temperature and terrain. Now it seems that the most likely location is along the Somme River. The technical department will send a list of the specific locations immediately." The blond adjutant Le Ang nodded in response.

Just as he finished speaking, there was a knock on the door, and a map specially made by the technical department was delivered to the office by a messenger.

Several red circles were framed, indicating that this was most likely the area where the German army used chemical weapons.

"Distribute the gas masks to the front-line troops and have the artillery prepare. Once the location where the enemy's weapons are stored is determined, blow them up." Marshal Pétain gave the order while looking at the map.

When the blond lieutenant saw a circled location in the upper left corner of the map, his eyelids twitched unconsciously.
-
Rose Manor, German Command Post
Tear it apart!

A map was crumpled up in someone's hands and then torn into pieces.

"Less than ten! There were less than ten enemies in total, and there were even women. We couldn't even take them down! This is a shame! A huge shame for the soldiers of the German Empire!"

"The Americans will reach here in three days at most, but we are being held here by a squad of Frenchmen!"

In the command post, the colonel paced back and forth in a rage, throwing things at hand to the ground from time to time.

The adjutant beside him obviously understood his superior's temper. He took away the important items calmly and interrupted at the right time, "Sir, the special operations team has arrived. They asked when the previously agreed material storage point can be fulfilled?"

"Don't you see the battle here is not over yet? Let them wait a moment!" the colonel replied unhappily.

"But..." The adjutant hesitated and lowered his voice, "But, if the special gas shells are stored in the open air, there will be great risks. If something goes wrong, our people will..."

"Okay," the colonel stroked his chin and ordered, "Have the soldiers clear three tents to store these things. Have at least a platoon of guards. Also, have the people involved keep their mouths shut."

"Sir, but using tents for storage is not a long-term solution."

"Just one day. Tell them that tomorrow we will definitely take over the manor opposite and give it to them for use!" The colonel finally made a decision.

"By the way, didn't we seize two of those British things earlier? Let's pull them up together tomorrow!"

(End of this chapter)