Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 111 Pétain's Bet

On February 24, the German vanguard advanced to Verdun and used heavy artillery to blockade the rear base of the fortress. Several major French roads were destroyed, and the logistics units suffered heavy losses.

boom!
boom! !

Sporadic shelling still echoed in the distance. The Renault truck leaned against the roadside, a fallen tree branch pressing against the front of the cab.

"Raymond, buddy, how are you?" The priest in black robes brushed the broken glass off his clothes, struggled to his feet, and asked his companion beside him.

“Still alive, but… oh! That damn German!” The truck driver struggled to his feet, his face contorted in pain, his right hand pierced by broken glass.

Qin Hao took out a spare gauze and pressed it against his arm. "Press it down! Don't pull it out, or your blood will spurt out!"

Then he called out to the back, "Miss Merchant, how are you?!"

Two seconds later, Chanel's voice came from the back row, "I, I'm fine... but someone here has fainted..."

The priest in black robes opened the car door, looked at the situation in the back seat, and then got out of the car to check it over again.

"Gentlemen, the Germans are already shelling this far. We need to get out of here quickly; it's not safe."

“But Mr. Raymond’s hand…” The French woman looked worriedly at the truck driver’s bloodied right hand.

“Miss Chanel, you take care of Mr. Raymond and the wounded. I’ll drive.” The priest in the black robe helped the driver to the back, fiddled with the crank handle in the front for a while, and then got into the wrecked driver’s seat himself.

"You can drive?!"

"I've never driven one of these before, let's give it a try." Qin Hao said, his hands already on the steering wheel.

"what?!"

The Renault truck roared off again, leaving behind only shards of glass.

A few minutes later, a shell landed next to the big tree.

Boom! !

Another shell exploded behind the truck, the blast wave tearing off the tarpaulin at the back of the truck.

At the same time, German planes appeared in the sky, and a Fokker E.III fighter just flew overhead.

The car jolted again on the road. The truck driver, in the back, pressed his pierced hand, his forehead dripping with cold sweat, and his face turned as white as a sheet.

Chanel supported an unconscious wounded man with one hand, and looked up in surprise to see the young priest. The man had rolled up his robes and was in the driver's seat with one hand on the steering wheel and the other constantly shifting gears.

He didn't look like a novice at all; it was more like he had been practicing for a long time.

"Who exactly are you?" A voice echoed in the woman's mind, and she felt a strong curiosity about the guy in front of her.

The next second, the man actually turned around.

"Miss Merchant!" He had to strain his neck to shout behind him in order to drown out the engine noise.

"What?! I'm listening!" Chanel shouted back.

"There's something under the stretcher on your far right! Stand it up! Stick it into the roof of the vehicle!"

"The thing on the stretcher on the right?!" The woman searched according to the other person's description and found a large wooden cross placed under the stretcher.

"Stand it up, put it on the roof!" the person in front shouted the order.

"What are you doing?!"

"Never mind that! Just do as I say! This thing can save our lives in a pinch!"

The woman pulled out the cross with some skepticism. The wooden object was heavy, and she gritted her teeth and used all her strength to lift it high and secure it to the top of the car canopy.

Although she did as instructed, the woman wondered if it was too late to pray at this time.

The next second, a shrill caw of a crow rang out, and the Fokker E.III plane that had just flown past turned back, its nose seemingly aimed at the truck.

"Oh my god! The Germans have caught up!" Chanel exclaimed in alarm.

As the planes drew closer and closer, and the two planes were about to intersect, the French woman could even see the pilot wearing goggles and the gleaming machine gun in front of him.

But for some reason, the German pilot didn't pull the trigger until the very last moment. "Phew~ That scared me to death!" After the plane took off, Chanel pressed her hand to her chest. She felt like her heart was about to jump out of her chest, but there was also a strange flush on her face.

That feeling was terrifying! But also incredibly exciting!
"How do you know he won't shoot?!" Chanel asked, her voice trembling.

"I don't know, it's just a little experience from the battlefield before." The man said without turning back.

"Hold on tight, just a little longer, we're almost there!"

The Renault truck roared onward.
-
At the same time, at the French logistics base of Baldeco, the headquarters of the Second Army Group.

The chaotic office had just welcomed its new occupant—General Philippe Bay, a general known for his defensive prowess who had just been appointed commander-in-chief of the Verdun theater.

It was also placed on the grill.

Former commander Frederick told him that Verdun Fortress was now almost an empty shell, with half of its artillery transferred to the Somme River line a month earlier, and the only forces available for defense were five understrength divisions on the front.

Moreover, due to organizational errors, the fortress now has only half of its usual supplies and ammunition.

With a shortage of personnel, ammunition, artillery, and supplies, the Germans attacked when the French were at their weakest.

However, as the gateway to Paris, Verdun could not be left undefended. With no other options, Pétain could only let his soldiers pay for the mistakes of his predecessor with their lives.

“What Eri gave me was not command, but a coffin full of corpses.” This is what Pétain wrote in his memoirs.

“In the past 72 hours, we have suffered 25,000 casualties, and our forces on the front lines are severely depleted.” Bernard Seibert, Pétain’s staff officer, pointed with a long stick to a location marked with red crosses on a map.

"We had far fewer artillery pieces than the Germans, and we were also short of ammunition. We were at a disadvantage in artillery battles, and they even used large guns with a caliber of 300 mm or more."

"Fort Dumont was lost 24 hours ago. The 4th Division tried to launch an offensive to retake it, but failed."

One piece of bad news after another came from the chief of staff, while Pétain looked at the map in front of him with a calm and composed expression.

"So you're saying our troops are like a patient suffering from severe blood loss, forced to pick up shovels and fight armed bandits?" 60-year-old Lieutenant General Bei looked at the people around him.

"I'm afraid that's the case, Your Excellency."

"How is the logistics situation? How long will it take us to fill the gaps at the front?" the lieutenant general asked the most crucial question.

"Your Excellency, I'm afraid it will be very difficult for us to do so." The chief of staff shook his head.

“We are severely lacking in transport vehicles. Even if we include mules and horses, we can only reach 30% of the required transport capacity. By the time we get everything up there, the battle may already be over.”

After saying that, Bernard Seibert sighed, "The lack of transport capacity is not the most serious problem. Our road to Verdun Fortress has been almost completely destroyed by German artillery and spies. They have even sent planes."

The chief of staff pointed to the roads on the map, each red cross indicating that the road was no longer usable. Verdun, located in the center of the map, was like a heart with its blood vessels severed.

"What's going on with this road?" Pétain keenly noticed that there was an unmarked road on the map.

"Sir, that's a narrow path, only 6 meters wide. And news came this morning that the Germans have begun extending their firepower here."

“That means it’s still usable!” General Bei waved his hand dismissively!
"Sebor, close the road to Paris! Stop all vehicles passing through! Any vehicle with wheels and capable of driving, use this road to transport supplies and soldiers to the front!"

"Mobilize all forces to protect this road! At all costs! Do you understand what I mean?!"

The chief of staff glanced at the map and sighed. "Sir, this is almost impossible. Civilians are not soldiers. How could they dare to transport supplies under these circumstances, especially with the German shelling still ongoing?"

"Haven't you noticed that since the Germans started shelling, it's been an entire afternoon and not a single vehicle has crossed this road?"

Pétain glanced at the empty path in the distance, pondered for a moment, then took out his monocle from his pocket and slowly rubbed it in his hand.

He pointed out the window and said, “Sabour, let’s make a bet. Within ten minutes, a car will definitely come this way. If that’s the case, it’s God’s will, and you have to fully support my plan.”

The chief of staff nodded. "Sir, war cannot be decided by divination. If it is truly God's will, then I will fight alongside you."

The voice just fell.

A commotion came from outside the window.

A Renault truck, blackened by the explosion, roared in from the horizon.

As the sun slowly set, the red cross raised high on the truck was blindingly bright.

(End of this chapter)