Starting with the smashing of Dunkirk

Chapter 9: The best medicine is to heal the mind; the best military strategy is to attack the mind.

"The first day after the transmigration is finally over."

Lelouch was completely awakened by the booming cannon fire outside the cellar and could no longer fall back asleep.

He reached into the pocket watch tucked into the breast pocket of his military uniform and glanced at the time in the dim light of the small lamp on the telegraph table.

It's only 4:30 a.m.

Today is October 26th.

The pocket watch was given to him yesterday by Lieutenant Barak after he and his cavalry swept the battlefield, finding it among the enemy corpses. It is said that the original owner was Colonel Deyoka, commander of the 3rd Regiment of the 4th Division, who was killed yesterday evening by direct fire from a 77mm field gun.

Lelouch could tell from the intermittent cannon fire that the French/Belgian offensive was coming in waves.

Especially in the latter half of the night, the artillery fire from the Belgian side on the east side intensified. If Colonel Lister's deduction last night was correct, it meant that Major General Viktor's 6th Division had arrived on the battlefield.

Viktor certainly wouldn't immediately repeat the mistakes and pitfalls that Degizel's 4th Division had just suffered.

It was virtually impossible to expect Colonel Lister to lure Viktor's artillery over and eliminate it as well. Therefore, the battle in the latter half of the night was destined to be a hard-fought battle with no fancy moves, where both sides were simply testing their strength.

Lelouch quickly tidied himself up, waiting for the gunfire to subside and the enemy's next offensive to end. Only then did he open the cellar door, go up to the surface to see if there was anything he could do to help, and also to get some fresh air.

He had only walked a few dozen steps from the cellar when he saw a row of makeshift shacks, all made of planks salvaged from the ruins, leaning against a broken wall to create stable, triangular spaces. Two rows of wounded soldiers lay scattered beneath them, extending all the way to the street corner.

Several large bonfires were still burning in the distance, standing out in the pre-dawn darkness and visible from several streets away.

Lelouch couldn't help but pull aside a medic carrying a medicine box who was hurrying by and ask, "Aren't you afraid that the bonfire over there will attract artillery fire?"

"They're cremating there. The people who piled the bodies lit the fire and ran off." The medic didn't recognize him, so he just said that and turned away.

Lelouch stared at the bonfires, which resembled a mound of corpses, for a good ten seconds, deeply shaken. He estimated that each pile contained at least a hundred bodies burning together.

He then looked at the wounded soldiers on the other side, and there were several hundred of them at a glance.

In just one night, the 16th Infantry Regiment of the 12th Division lost nearly 20% of its troops!

The regiment, with a full strength of nearly four thousand people, has suffered an estimated total of over a thousand casualties.

It was only because the troops were disciplined, had a strong fighting spirit, and fought a desperate, no-turn-back battle that they were able to fight so tenaciously.

In any other setting, or with a weaker army, such casualties would have led to a collapse long ago.

Yesterday, Lelouch was only thinking about survival. He actively offered suggestions in order to turn the tide of the battle and make himself seem more valuable so that he could be valued by his superiors and avoid being used as an infantryman to fill in the gaps.

He did indeed do it; the colonel treated him very well, even allowing him to sleep peacefully in the cellar for six hours under such circumstances.

But the bloody scene he was witnessing, the sour smell of festering wounds, and the stench of rotting corpses were all violently assaulting his senses.

He painfully twisted off his military cap and clutched it in his hand, unconsciously crumpling it into a ball. He bent over, supporting himself on his knees, trying to catch his breath but unable to bear the surrounding smell.

It took him quite a while to catch his breath, until Klose patted his back to help him stand up straight. He sighed and said self-deprecatingly:
"I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep again until the moment we break through."

Klose: "Why?"

Lelouch: "When I close my eyes again, I can't help but think of all the comrades who died while I was sleeping. Just because we didn't end it all as quickly as possible."

After Lelouch finished speaking, as if to make himself feel better, he ran to the row of shacks, first washing his hands thoroughly with boiled water, and then helping the medic bandage them.

As a military enthusiast in his previous life, he had learned some basic first aid knowledge. Most of the seriously wounded soldiers he bandaged lay there with empty, lifeless eyes, showing little reaction.

“Sir, this isn’t your fault. You’ve already come up with a lot of ideas for the colonel—and if it weren’t for your warning, yesterday’s flood would have caused huge casualties for our army.” Klose, unable to bear seeing him blame himself, encouraged him loudly.

Many wounded soldiers heard Klose's words and looked at Lelouch with gratitude and awe.

"Are you the officer who warned of the impending flood yesterday? Thank you so much."

"You must be exhausted. You need to rest. If we had more strategists like you, we could definitely hold out until victory!"

"Sir, can we hold out until the Billy Kings collapse first? If we keep fighting like this all day, the whole regiment will be wiped out."

A group of wounded soldiers, some grateful, some excited, and some fearful, pestered him with questions.
Several seriously wounded soldiers who were originally too lazy to move suddenly sat up in shock, even though they were on their deathbeds, and insisted on asking two questions.

Lelouch, unable to bear their continued worry, quickly and solemnly promised, "Don't worry, everyone! We will definitely outlast Bi Jun! The current situation is like a ko fight in the ancient Eastern game of Go. Both we and Bi Jun are in each other's ko. It's a matter of which side has more 'liberties' in other aspects!"
Even if the enemy outnumbers us, as long as they fall first, we can rendezvous with our allies in Blankenberg! And I assure you, the commander has already devised a way to break the enemy's morale, but these strategies can only be used at dawn. Everyone must hold on; I guarantee that the commander will completely shatter the enemy's morale today!

Lelouch delivered a passionate impromptu mobilization speech, hoping to revive the will to live of the seriously wounded.

During the mobilization process, his own mindset was also quietly changing.

The sooner we force the enemy to surrender in today's battle, the fewer people will die on both sides.

The war has only been going on for three months, and the hatred between the two sides hasn't run that deep yet. As long as the other side changes its diplomatic stance and stops being pro-Burmazdal, and forms a cabinet that is more aligned with its own side, the situation can still be resolved.

These small third-party countries were dragged into this situation anyway; there's no need for them to fight to the death.

The wounded soldiers were unaware of the high command's plans. They had assumed they could only rely on force to fight an enemy many times their size, and after a whole night of bloody fighting, they were starting to despair.

Lelouch's words, however, inspired their will to survive and gave them more motivation to live well.

"I'm quite ashamed to say that my first aid skills are only enough to save a few people." On his way from the wounded soldiers' camp to the regimental headquarters, Lelouch couldn't help but sigh.

Klose firmly retorted, "No! Sir, the comfort you gave everyone is something the medics can't provide. I saw it with my own eyes; many seriously wounded soldiers' eyes lit up after hearing your words!"

Lelouch nodded thoughtfully: Propaganda work among one's own people is also very important. Demacia used to do this terribly, only using harsh orders to force people to do things, without ever explaining why.

……

Desperate to end the war as soon as possible, Lelouch rushed to the regimental headquarters.

Colonel Lister must have spent the night in a chair at the regimental headquarters. When he met Lelouch, his face was etched with exhaustion and stress, but he still shared some good news with an enthusiastic tone:

"We've communicated with the army group headquarters, and the photos and mimeographed leaflets are all ready. We've also deployed over a dozen reconnaissance planes to Ghent Airport, which is only 70 kilometers from here; it only takes half an hour to fly there." The colonel said, glancing at his watch.

"That's great! I believe the Belgian army's offensive will soon weaken." Lelouch genuinely believed this.

Colonel: "I'll have Barak take charge of the refugee transfer in a bit. You'll be responsible for continuously sending messages to persuade senior enemy officers to surrender. Don't let us down. Try to coordinate with the reconnaissance planes that are dropping leaflets."

Lelouch: "Yes, sir!"

All parties quickly completed their final preparations.

Within minutes, a temporary ceasefire flag was raised on several ruins on the easternmost edge of Neoport, and the German reconnaissance company used all the megaphones they could find to try to shout at the other side during the lulls in the enemy's attack.

All of this was quickly discovered by the opposing 6th Division and reported to its commander, Major General Viktor.

Major General Viktor arrived at the battlefield after midnight last night and has been leading his troops in an attack for more than four hours, but they have been held back by Lister.

Upon hearing his subordinate's report, he quickly picked up his binoculars and carefully observed the westward direction.

"The Demacians are surrendering? No! This isn't a white flag, it's a ceasefire flag! What right do they have to demand a temporary ceasefire from us? They must be at their wits' end and want a break!"

How can we let them succeed! Organize the next wave of attack immediately! The more the enemy wants something, the more we must do the opposite!

Although Major General Viktor was not skilled in strategy, he knew the most basic principle: never let the enemy succeed. So, he instinctively wanted to do the opposite and annoy the enemy.

His subordinates dared not question it and immediately began preparing for a new attack.

But soon, the enemy's loudspeaker announcements drifted over, and then a group of ragged Billy King civilians appeared in front of the lines.

"Don't fire! These are Billy King civilians whose homes were flooded yesterday!"

"Our troops housed them in the cellar overnight, and are now handing them over to your troops to prevent friendly fire incidents during the battle!"

Please do not slaughter your own people!

Moreover, it wasn't just the Demacian officers who were shouting; the hundreds of civilians, equally afraid of being accidentally shot, were all crying and yelling at the Belgian troops to the east not to fire.

Judging by the number of three or four hundred people, this actually accounts for more than half of the total number of civilians that Colonel Lister casually rescued yesterday.

When the soldiers of the 6th Division, who were preparing to attack, saw that there were women and children in the crowd, they were immediately in an uproar.

"Are they really civilians belonging to our army?"

"Why would these Demacian beasts rescue our civilians?"

"Who exactly breached the dam? Why weren't the Demagnesians warned in advance? And why weren't our civilians ordered to evacuate beforehand?"

Countless doubts arose in the minds of the soldiers of the 6th Division. Most of them had not actually participated in the specific process of breaching the dam and releasing water, and were kept in the dark by their superiors.

By the time Major General Viktor realized what was happening and tried to stop the rumors from spreading, it was too late.

Last night, the Demanians did send several telegrams to their superiors, but they were all requests to send planes to drop leaflets. As for releasing civilians and using no-telephone persuasion to win over the enemy, Lister could do those himself and didn't need the cooperation of his superiors, so he naturally wouldn't bother to ask for permission.

So even though the Bretonnians intercepted German telegrams, deciphered them, and urgently forwarded them to the Belgian army, eventually reaching Major General Viktor, he could only think of guarding against leaflets, while remaining completely unprepared for the other two methods.

Today, he sent almost all the military police and discipline personnel in the division to "prevent soldiers from picking up leaflets to read, as picking up any paper from the ground would be considered a violation of military discipline," and the forces guarding against other matters were naturally reduced to a minimum.

But then the enemy launched a surprise attack from a different angle!

More than 300 civilians from Belgium, including the elderly and children, walked along the coastal road toward the Belgian army's position.

Lieutenant Barak, deputy company commander of the cavalry company of the 6th Division of the German Army, personally rode his warhorse with a small squad of soldiers to escort the Belighin people across the separation zone between the two armies.

At the town entrance behind, there were military cameras from the reconnaissance company, filming everything in real time from several different positions and angles.

If the Belgian military dares to suddenly change its mind after accepting refugees and shoot and kill Lieutenant Barak and other escorts, then the country's international reputation will be completely ruined.

Even if the Belighians hadn't fired their guns, these photographs would still be valuable circumstantial evidence in the future, proving the details of the battle.

The Belighians did not dare to make any rash moves and quietly took over more than three hundred of their own civilians.

As civilians joined the fray, more instability began to emerge within the military.

Some soldiers happened to have relatives stranded in the flooded area, and they immediately disregarded military discipline to come and identify them. Some of them actually found their relatives, and the scene became extremely chaotic.

The civilians who were released had not received professional training and did not know what they could or could not say. They all spoke the truth, which further fueled the panic within the Belgian army.

After delivering the man, Lieutenant Barak immediately rode back to town.

The half-hour temporary ceasefire handover period ended quickly, and theoretically, both sides could resume fighting.

But the chaos on the Billy Kings' side was not over yet, and Victor was unable to reorganize the attack for a long time, and could only slowly try to control his soldiers.

As if things weren't bad enough, just then, the Demanians' radio stations went into overdrive, broadcasting surrender urging telegrams in French plain text to the Belgian army.

Each regimental radio station in the Belgian army could receive these messages; whether they listened or not was their own business. Several regiments wanted to quickly turn off their radios to refuse the reception, but their eyes had already been saturated by the concise and powerful plaintext messages.

Once an idea takes hold of a person's mind, it's extremely difficult to deliberately forget it.

Soon, a buzzing sound came from the sky as more than a dozen reconnaissance planes flew over Neopod.

They flew along the coastal road from Ostend to Neopod, and with the first rays of dawn, dozens of boxes of leaflets and photos were scattered at low altitudes, drifting everywhere.

Despite the presence of military police, it was inevitable that some photos would be missed. Some soldiers secretly picked up the photos and couldn't take their eyes off them.

Some of these photos even show clear aerial shots of soldiers in military uniforms tinkering with something at what appears to be a canal seawall. Another photo shows a breach blasted open in the area, with torrents of floodwater rushing down.

Although the photos were all in black and white, the vast majority of soldiers were shaken.

Many people's thinking is actually very simple: if photos can't explain the problem, why would the enemy release such photos?
(End of this chapter)