Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 127 Fight
As night fell, the German artillery fire ceased.

Pierre and his comrades leaned against the trench, taking turns eating. They stuffed coarse black bread into their mouths and then swallowed it down with soup made from unknown ingredients.

Halfway through the meal, Pierre took out a potato from his pocket and looked at his companion, "Aren't you going to eat yours?"

"Of course not!" The comrade took out his potato and gestured. "This is a potato given by the priest, the same as the holy bread. Maybe it will bring me good luck on the battlefield."

Then his comrade carefully put the potatoes away. "After Easter, I plan to take the potatoes back home and plant them in my old yard, so I can harvest a batch every year."

“Brother, if I remember correctly, these potatoes should have been cooked.” Pierre shook his head helplessly, then lowered his voice and asked…
"Dude, do you really believe that the shift change happens on Easter?"

"Of course, that's what the priest said."

"But the priest didn't promise anything."

"The priest didn't deny anything, did he?"

The other party confidently said, "Believe me, something good will definitely happen on Easter."

Gua! ! !
The cawing of crows interrupted their conversation. In the darkness, shadowy figures could be seen moving in the distance, approaching the barbed wire at the front line.

The two men looked at each other, stuffed the potatoes into their pockets, took out the hand grenades they had prepared beforehand, and aimed them at the "fake trenches" that had been dug out in front of them. They had recently used this method to keep at least several hundred Germans alive.

Apart from the occasional cawing of crows, the battlefield was quiet. Pierre touched the pin of a grenade, waiting for the enemy to enter the designated "throwing zone."

Within 50 meters, there were probably twenty or so other combat teams like theirs waiting.

Boom! ! ! !

Gunfire erupted, German troops cut through the barbed wire and swarmed in, while French soldiers raised their grenades.

A sudden change occurred!

Surprisingly, more than twenty people split off from the German ranks, each carrying several lit bottles.

The next moment, a rain of fire filled the night sky.

call!!!!!
Dozens of burning bottles exploded on the French positions, setting the land ablaze and revealing the soldiers lurking nearby.

A Molotov cocktail was smashed right in front of the two men, and a raging inferno swept over them.

The inexperienced Pierre was momentarily stunned, completely forgetting that he was still holding a grenade in his hand.

"Throw the grenade! Then, back up!"

A loud shout rang out behind them, jolting the soldiers awake. Experienced veterans threw grenades and quickly left their positions.

Under the firelight, a large number of retreating French soldiers suddenly appeared on the hillside.

Bang bang bang bang bang! ! ! !

The crisp sound of an Enfield rifle rang out, and several German soldiers who were preparing to throw again were hit and fell, the falling Molotov cocktails hitting the ground.

Flames erupted, and the positions on both sides were instantly engulfed in flames.

boom! boom! boom! !

boom! boom! boom! !

Explosions rang out one after another as French grenades and German mortar shells detonated overhead. The burning bonfires made both sides' targets easily visible in the night.

boom! ! !
A gunshot rang out, and a German gunner fell to the ground. Qin Hao pulled the bolt of his gun again.

Strange, really strange!
Before World War II, the Germans had no precedent for using Molotov cocktails on a large scale on the battlefield, and this "unorthodox" approach was not in line with their rigid national character.

This is fucking weird!

It's no longer realistic to keep the enemy in place; continuing the fight would turn into a war of attrition. The only option now is…

After a moment's thought, Qin Hao gave orders to the soldiers around him.

"Withdraw! Everyone withdraw! Except for the engineers, everyone withdraw!"

Upon receiving the order, the French troops retreated like a tide, some even brushing the sparks off their bodies as they ran, looking utterly disheveled.

"Captain, the weapon you invented really works! The French have retreated! We've captured this position!" his deputy shouted excitedly to Manstein.

At this moment, the young Junker nobleman did not appear very excited; in fact, a look of confusion appeared on his face.

Having made thorough preparations, I clearly caught my opponent off guard. However, apart from suffering some initial losses, my opponent did not panic as I had imagined.

Moreover, this tactic of running away when you can't win felt strangely familiar to him.

Did he miss something?! Think about it, what is it?!

Memories of the past suddenly began to flash through his mind, and Manstein grabbed the officer next to him and shouted, "Get someone to check everything around you right now!"

"Wh-what?" His colleague didn't react for a moment.

"hurry up!"

"Okay, okay."

The soldiers quickly surveyed the surroundings, and one of them ran forward to report, "Sir, there's nothing special to report. The French have only left some wooden crates."

"A wooden box?!" A series of thoughts came together, and Manstein felt a faint ache in the scar on his forehead.

"Everyone! Get out of the trenches! Now!!!" Without warning, Manstein suddenly shouted to the people around him.

"Captain, we've just captured the position, and we haven't yet expanded our gains!"

"That's an order! Now! Immediately!"

Although the situation was unclear, the discipline of the German soldiers proved to be an advantage at this moment, and the soldiers quickly jumped out of their positions under the command of their officers.

Just as the vanguard troops had withdrawn from their positions, they suddenly felt the ground beneath their feet tremble.

boom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wild flames shot into the sky! A massive explosion resounded throughout the heavens and earth!
Despite the commander's swift response, more than a dozen soldiers who lagged behind were still caught in the explosion.

Manstein turned around and looked at the blurry figure on the hillside, while the other person was also looking at him.

Memories flooded back like a tidal wave.

On April 8, 1916, 14 days before Easter, the German army launched a night raid on a section of the Belleville Heights that they had occupied. The French army was forced to abandon the position under the surprise attack and detonated the explosives that had been planted in advance.

Both sides suffered casualties, and the scales of victory ultimately did not tip in favor of either side.

German command post.

"Please sit down, Mr. Erich. I heard you did a good job at the front, just had some bad luck." Lieutenant General Fisher gave this rising star of the battlefield a lot of face.

"Your Excellency, my apologies, I have important intelligence to report!" Manstein nodded in acknowledgment, then said somewhat anxiously.

“I’ve met a man who fought against us in Russia, and now he’s come to France. I think he’s a huge threat!”

"Oh? Who could make you value someone so much?"

“His name is…” the young lieutenant said, leaning down.

Upon hearing this, Lieutenant General Fisher stood up noncommittally, poured a glass of whiskey, and handed it to the other man.

"Captain, I know you were wounded in Russia and have some unpleasant memories, but I suggest you move on and not get stuck in it."

"Your Excellency, I do not understand what you mean."

“I understand perfectly.” Lieutenant General Fisher pulled a newspaper from his file folder and handed it to the other man.

"Look, what happened a few months ago, that was a complete upheaval."

The lieutenant general clasped his hands together and sat in his chair. "You can't exactly tell me that the person standing opposite me is someone who's been dead for a long time, can you?"

Manstein took the newspaper, quickly scanned it, and then an incredulous expression appeared on his face.
-
At the same time, at the headquarters of the French Second Army.

Staff Officer Bernard Seibert gently knocked on the commander-in-chief's door.

"Sir, have you taken a rest?"

"Come in, Bernard, is there any good news?" Pétain asked, rubbing his temples as he looked at his assistant.

"Sir, please take a look at this report. A group of people attempting to flee illegally have just been intercepted at the border, and all of them have been detained by the local security forces."

“Bernard, I know you’re very responsible. But, this kind of thing probably doesn’t need to be reported to me.” Pétain couldn’t understand why the other person would bring up such a trivial matter.

“Nothing would have happened otherwise, but please pay attention here, sir.” The staff officer pointed to a spot on the report.

“There is a man who has escaped from our city; he is a trainee pastor.”

"He called himself Potan Al."

(End of this chapter)