Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 191 Dude, is that what I meant?

Although Morin felt that the First Guards Cavalry Division's operational plan was somewhat risky, he had no right to interfere, so he could only provide all the known information he could.

He sighed, looked at the cavalry captain named Mavits in front of him, and decided to let them see the harsh reality for themselves.

"Captain, you may have some misunderstanding about the Gauls' fighting spirit."

Morin stood up and led them out of the temporary camp:
"Come with me, I'll take you to the front lines and you'll understand why I have these concerns. It should also help you in the upcoming battles."

Captain Mavits and the other two cavalry officers exchanged glances—at least for the moment, they still felt that Morin's statement was somewhat exaggerated.

But out of politeness, they followed Morin out of the command post.

Without offering further explanation, Morin led them directly onto a truck and arrived at the 1st Company's position in a few minutes.

The closer you get to the front lines, the stronger the smell of blood and stench becomes in the air.

Captain Mavits and his men initially maintained the demeanor of noble officers, but soon their expressions grew increasingly grim, and their brows furrowed tightly.

"What's that smell?" A young cavalryman couldn't help but cover his mouth and nose.

"The smell of a large number of corpses rotting together," Morin said without turning his head.

The cavalrymen: "Ah!"

The truck stopped at the temporary headquarters of the 1st Company. Klaus was taken aback when he saw Morin arrive with several cavalrymen, but he immediately went to meet them.

"Battalion Commander, why are you back again?"

"Bring a few colleagues from our allied forces to check on the situation."

As Morin spoke, he led Mavits and the others, escorted by several soldiers from the 1st Company, up to the second floor of a building at the forefront of the second line of defense.

This is an excellent vantage point, offering a clear view of the streets ahead that have become a living hell.

When Captain Mavits raised the binoculars that Morin had handed him and saw the scene ahead, he froze completely.

Through the telescope's field of view, the once wide street was now completely covered by corpses.

The red and blue military uniforms were intertwined, forming a seemingly endless 'carpet'.

Mutilated limbs and twisted weapons were everywhere. In some places, the corpses were piled up to a height of more than a meter, forming disgusting mountains of corpses.

By now, more and more flies were hovering over the corpse, making a buzzing sound.

The stench, so intense it was almost tangible, emanated from this land of death.

"my God."

Captain Mavits lowered his binoculars, his face pale and his lips trembling slightly.

The two officers behind him also saw this scene. One of the younger officers almost couldn't hold back and clenched his fist so tightly that he scratched himself with his nails to keep from losing his composure.

As the most elite royal guard cavalry of the Saxon Empire, they had undergone the most rigorous training and had imagined the cruelty of the battlefield.

Unfortunately, as cavalry officers under the new generation of the Imperial Guard, they had never participated in battles of this intensity, nor had they ever witnessed such a brutal scene.

Therefore, the scene before them, resembling a slaughterhouse, far exceeded their expectations.

This is no longer a battle.
"Now, do you understand?"

Morin's voice came from the side, calmly looking at the cavalrymen as he spoke:
"The Gauls charged at us wave after wave, stepping over the corpses of their comrades. Their resilience and fighting spirit were far greater than you can imagine."

Captain Mavits fell silent, turning to look at Morin with a mixture of awe and shock.

He now finally understood the immense pressure that Morin and his seemingly small force had endured over the past two days.

They were not facing a small harassing force of Gauls, but an entire fanatical army brainwashed by 'offensiveism' and fearless of death.

The training assault battalion, right here, forcefully halted their attack.

"Captain Morin, I...I apologize to you and your troops for my previous ignorance."

Captain Mavits took a deep breath and gave Morin a solemn military salute.

At this moment, the pride he once felt as a member of the Imperial Guard cavalry was completely replaced by the hellish scene before him and his admiration for the Training Assault Battalion.

"There's no need for that. It's not about apologizing. I should be thanking you for coming to our aid."

Morin waved his hand, though he did feel a growing liking for the young cavalry officer.

They're definitely one of the Imperial Guard's "own people," their words are so pleasant~
After a pause, Captain Mavits continued:
"Captain Morin, I now fully understand that the relief efforts of our 1st Imperial Guard Cavalry Division for Charleroi were far more important than I had imagined!"

He glanced at the mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood, then at Morin.

"As fellow members of the Imperial Guard, we will not stand idly by while you fight so hard here!"

"Please rest assured, in the upcoming battle, my colleagues and I will spare no effort to achieve our combat objectives and will never disgrace the 'Royal Saxon Guard'!"

Seeing Captain Mavits's fanatical expression that screamed "We got it, watch us cut them all in half," Morin opened his mouth, but ultimately swallowed his words.

He had only one thought in his mind.

"Huh? Dude, is that what I meant? I didn't mean for you guys to go and die with me, bro!"

He simply wanted to remind them that the enemy was formidable, and that they needed to be careful as they were operating alone deep in enemy territory, and not to be reckless.
Morin felt a headache coming on; he realized he had underestimated the way these old-fashioned officers thought.

In their view, honor, courage, and sacrifice seem to be the ultimate answer to all problems.

Morin: "Alright. In that case, let's go back to headquarters. I have more information about the Gauls to tell you. Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated."

Captain Mavits nodded emphatically; he now completely believed every word Morin said.

A commander who could defeat the Gauls in such a way must have absolutely invaluable advice.

Back at the temporary camp, the pungent stench of corpses finally subsided somewhat.

Captain Mavits and the others looked a little better, but the way they looked at Morin was completely different from when they arrived.

If before it was out of politeness and courtesy between colleagues, now it is pure admiration and respect.

"Sit down and have some water."

Morin pointed to the chair by the table, then took a big gulp of cold water.

While taking Mavits and the others on a 'sightseeing' trip to the front lines, Morin was actually making plans in his mind.

Since we can't dissuade these cavalrymen who are on steroids, we can only provide them with as much accurate intelligence as possible so that they can suffer less losses in battle and not send themselves away in a muddle.

"Captain Mavits, what I am about to say is very important and concerns the safety of your entire division. Please write it down word for word and pass it on to General Hopner."

Morin's expression turned serious. "Please speak, I'm all ears."

Mavits immediately sat up straight, and even the two officers behind him took out their notebooks to take notes.

"First, it concerns the enemy's cavalry."

Morin looked at the map on the table and pointed to the vast area south of Charleroi. "Yesterday, the Gauls' Third Cavalry Division launched a probing attack on us, but we repelled it."

"Has the 3rd Gallic Cavalry Division already arrived?"

Mavits was taken aback. The 3rd Cavalry Division was at the forefront of the Gallic cavalry order of battle and was one of the main cavalry units. How could it have already suffered a setback when attacking Charleroi?
"Yes."

"In a small skirmish on the outskirts of the city, we decimated at least three of their cuirassier squadrons and three dragoon squadrons."

"But their main force should still be around Charleroi, providing flank cover for their infantry. Once you launch your operations on the south bank, I estimate that they will be the first thing you face."

Morin paused, then continued:

"I have a few key pieces of information about this cavalry division. First, their cuirassiers are equipped with enchanted breastplates that provide strong protection, enough to withstand four 7.92 Mauser rounds."

"Secondly, the enemy's training level is very high, and their commanders are also very good at seizing opportunities. They are very good at using the mobility of cavalry to penetrate and encircle. When you face them in open field battles, you must not be careless."

"The third and most important point."

Morin's tone became extremely serious.

"It's about their 75mm magic cannon. I estimate that the power of this thing far exceeds your expectations. Not only is its rate of fire extremely fast, but the shells are also enhanced by magic technology, making their explosive power much greater than our own 77mm field guns. If your division's cavalry artillery battalion rashly engages them in a firefight, they will most likely suffer heavy losses."

The intelligence provided by Morin was extremely important and valuable to Mavits and his team.

In this era, there is no systematic and efficient intelligence-sharing mechanism among the militaries of different countries.

The so-called 'military intelligence department' in Saxony is more like an independent agency under the General Staff or various branches of the armed forces, whose main job is to organize and archive some publicly available information.

At least in Morin's memory, the German Second Army in the world before he traveled through time did not establish the relatively professional Army Intelligence Department, the 'Third Section of the General Staff,' until the end of 1914.

Currently, the main sources of intelligence are nothing more than military observer missions exchanged during peacetime, publicly published military magazines from various countries—these magazines often like to hire retired military officers to write articles, and reports regularly sent back by embassies abroad.

This kind of intelligence work, which relies entirely on manpower and lacks unified standards, is extremely inefficient and its accuracy is questionable.

Most of the time, the intelligence that high-ranking officials in various countries can obtain is vague information such as "a certain country may be developing a new 300mm caliber cannon" or "a certain country's navy may have launched a new type of warship".

It's quite absurd that someone like Morin could provide such precise intelligence, directly providing the enemy's equipment performance parameters, unit designations, command styles, and even battle damage.

Captain Mavits and his companions were sweating profusely as they took notes.

The more they listened, the more horrified they became. If they hadn't witnessed the hellish scene in the city with their own eyes, they might have even doubted whether Morin was exaggerating.

But now, they believe Morin's words without a doubt.

"Captain Morin, this intelligence of yours is extremely important!"

Captain Mavits finished recording the last detail and looked up, saying:

"On behalf of the 1st Imperial Guard Cavalry Division, I would like to express my gratitude to you once again!"

He was now feeling a bit scared. If Morin hadn't reminded them, and they had rushed over so recklessly, they probably would have really gotten themselves seriously injured.

“No need to be so polite, we’re all ‘one of us’ from the Imperial Guard.” Morin waved his hand. “That’s all I can do. The battles to come are up to you.”

"I see!"

Mavits carefully put away the notebook filled with intelligence, then stood up and gave Morin a standard military salute once again.

"Captain Morin, I must return to division headquarters immediately to inform the general of this intelligence! Farewell!"

After saying that, he took two officers and left in a hurry without looking back, his steps so fast that it seemed as if he was afraid of wasting even a second.

Morin, Kleist, and Manstein escorted them to the north gate of the city.

Before the enemy mounted their horses, Morin specifically instructed them that if they wanted to retreat, they could withdraw from Charleroi's flanks.

The Gallic offensive forces on both sides are relatively weak, and the training assault battalion can provide support.

Captain Mavits nodded heavily after hearing this, then turned his horse around, spurred it on, and set off with the other cavalrymen.

As the cavalry troop sped away in the dust kicked up by their hooves, Morin felt no relief whatsoever.

"I hope their teacher is a steady person who will listen to advice," he muttered to himself.

Kleist and Manstein exchanged a glance, both seeing the same worry in each other's eyes.

"Commander, do you think the 1st Imperial Guard Cavalry Division will face obstacles in its next attack?" Manstein couldn't help but ask.

Morin was silent for a moment, then shook his head.

"I don't know. There are too many factors that affect the outcome of battles in the field. I hope they don't act like the Gauls and treat 'charging' as the only solution to all problems."

After saying that, he turned and walked into the city.

At this point, Morin had done everything he could and could only pray that this trusted ally wouldn't falter at the crucial moment.

On the south bank of the Sambur River, a massive cavalry force is rapidly maneuvering across the vast plains.

Thousands of cavalrymen formed several long columns and rolled forward along the country dirt roads.

The dust kicked up by the horses' hooves blotted out the sky, making it look like a giant yellow dragon winding through the fields.

Under the sunlight, the tips of the lances and the scabbards of the cavalry sabers reflected a dazzling, cold light, while the fluttering swallowtail flags and military banners further demonstrated the majesty of this unit.

General Ernst von Hopner, commander of the 1st Imperial Guard Cavalry Division, was riding a magnificent pure black warhorse at the very front of the column.

His staff officers and messengers followed closely behind, and the entire division headquarters advanced along with the main force.

After directing the main force of the division to cross the Samble River, General Hopner did not linger and immediately ordered the entire division to maneuver towards the open area south of Charleroi.

His plan was simple: use the mobility of the cavalry to threaten the Gallic infantry division besieging Charleroi from the flank, forcing them to split their forces and thus relieving pressure on the training assault battalion inside the city.

"Order the Second Imperial Guard Hussars to advance in a fan shape, in company units! Seize all high ground and the edges of the woods to establish observation posts!"

General Hopner gave orders to the messengers behind him without turning his head.

"Yes, General!" Several messengers immediately spurred their horses away from the ranks and galloped towards the cavalry regiment.

Soon, one hussar squadron after another broke away from the main force, scattering like fishing nets into the vast plains.

(End of this chapter)