Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 206 Familiar People
Looking at the troops operating like a precise machine, Morin couldn't help but nod.

Look, this is what an elite force looks like! (Leans back tactically)

But just then, he remembered the three letters he hadn't yet sent.

Morin found the sergeant in charge of camp duties and inquired about the status of all the mail in the camp.

"Reporting to the battalion commander, the last batch of letters collected by the entire battalion has been packed and is ready to be sent to the army group's field post office."

"Wait a minute!" Morin called out to him, "I'll go there myself."

He felt that these three letters were of great importance, and he would feel more at ease handing them over himself.

With a guard by his side, carrying the huge mailbag filled with thousands of letters, Morin found a truck that was always on standby and went straight to the field post office sorting center in the army group headquarters camp.

Because the Training Assault Battalion and Morin himself are now very famous in the Second Army, and because General Bilo specifically instructed that the Training Assault Battalion should be given 'special attention'.

So when the officer in charge of the sorting center saw that it was Morin personally carrying the mailbag, he was unusually enthusiastic.

"Oh my, isn't this Captain Morin? What brings you here in person?"

“Captain Carl, actually, it’s a personal matter.” Morin smiled and placed the package on the table. “Our battalion is about to set off, and this is the last batch of letters home. I would like to trouble you to process it as soon as possible.”

"No problem! It's no big deal!"

The captain patted his chest and assured them, "Your unit is a combat hero of our Second Army Group, and must be given priority!"

As he spoke, he skillfully stamped the package from the training commando battalion with a red 'highest priority' stamp.

"Of course, there's one thing I still need to mention."

Captain Carl added, "Although we can skip some of the earlier procedures and go directly to sorting, according to regulations, the review of the contents of the letters is still essential. I hope you can understand."

“I understand, that’s the rule.” Morin nodded.

Seeing that Morin hadn't made any unreasonable demands, Captain Carl naturally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't worry, even with the review time, it will be much faster than regular delivery. Depending on the destination, it can be delivered to the recipient in about a week."

"Thank you so much, Captain Carl!"

Morin was overjoyed. Without making a sound, he took out several packs of cigarettes he had seized from the Gallic officer's corpse and stuffed them into the man's pocket.

"We can let everyone at the post office and sorting center try the Gauls' cigarettes."

Captain Karl looked at the packs of Gallic cigarettes in his hand, his smile widening even further.

"Captain Morin, you're too kind! I wish you continued success in your military campaigns!"

After thanking the enthusiastic officer, Morin left the sorting center and returned to the camp.

August 17th, 11:30 AM.

The entire training assault battalion has assembled, and all vehicles and personnel are ready.

At Morin's command, a massive convoy of hundreds of trucks and horse-drawn carriages, kicking up clouds of dust, set off southwest.

According to the destination given by the army group command before departure, this temporary battle group, personally commanded by General Ludendorff, will join forces with the troops sent by the First Army in the area between Alas and San Quentin.

Then both sides will launch a joint attack on the flank of the Brittany expeditionary force.

Since the Fifth Gallic Army had abandoned its offensive against Charleroi, it had retreated to the Santo Quentin line.

Therefore, the training assault battalion did not encounter any significant obstacles during its movement along the way.

Before long, the vanguard of the training assault battalion convoy successfully caught up with the main force of Ludendorf's battle group—the two infantry divisions—who were still on foot.

The massive marching column stretched for several kilometers, with soldiers moving slowly along the road with tired but still relatively orderly steps.

As Morin's convoy sped past them, it caused quite a stir.

The infantrymen all cast envious glances their way.

"Look! It's the convoy of the training assault battalion!"

"My God, so many trucks! Did they load the entire battalion onto wheels?"

"I really want to sit on it; my legs are almost numb."

Sitting in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, Morin looked out the window at the friendly troops marching on foot, feeling a mix of emotions.

That's the charm of motorization and mechanization. If you want to carry out rapid maneuvering or operations like a 'mass assault battalion,' mechanical vehicles are indispensable.
He quickly found General Ludendorff’s temporary headquarters in the middle of the marching column—a few 1913-model staff vehicles.

Both vehicles quickly pulled over to the side of the road, and Morin jumped out of his car to report to Ludendorff.

When Morin met the deputy chief of staff of the army group again, he found that the other party's attitude was much more friendly and polite than the last time he met him at the command post.

"Captain Morin, you guys are pretty fast," Ludendorff said, glancing at the convoy of trucks still passing behind Morin.

"Reporting to the general, we only benefited from the equipment."

"No need to be modest, your combat effectiveness is evident to the entire army group." Ludendorff waved his hand, then looked southwest and continued:
"Now that you have caught up, do not stop and continue to advance. As the vanguard of the entire battle group, reach the designated rendezvous point as soon as possible and establish contact with the First Army Group."

"Yes, General!"

After a brief exchange with Ludendorff and receiving his new orders, Morin returned to his convoy.

With two infantry divisions backing him up, Morin felt more confident than ever before.

No matter what, they were no longer going deep into enemy territory alone. The convoy continued westward without any obstacles.

After a day and a night of forced march, at dusk on August 18, as the last rays of sunlight disappeared before the horizon, Morin's training assault battalion finally arrived at the designated rendezvous point southeast of Alaska.

The designated rendezvous point was a vast plain, where a large temporary camp had already been established.

Countless tents were scattered across the landscape, with wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys, and soldiers in Saxon army uniforms bustling about, creating a lively scene.

The camp was heavily guarded, with patrolling sentries and machine gun positions everywhere.

As soon as Morin's convoy approached, it was stopped by a troop of cavalry.

After verifying their passwords and identification, a major staff officer belonging to the First Army Group warmly received them.

"Welcome, Captain Morin! We've been waiting for you!"

Guided by the major, the training assault battalion's convoy slowly drove into the camp and stopped in a reserved open area.

The soldiers jumped off the vehicles and began setting up camp for a short rest.

Just as Morin was wondering whether he should contact the First Army Group next, a familiar tall figure suddenly emerged from the tent next to him and stood behind him.

"Morlin?!"

Upon hearing that very familiar voice, Morin turned around, saw the other person's face clearly, and a look of surprise instantly appeared on his face.

"Lieutenant Colonel Seeker?! What are you doing here?"

The man before him was none other than Ludwig von Seeckt, the Teutonic Knight who had fought alongside him in Seville and also Patricia's brother!

"Why can't I be here?"

Ludwig laughed, stepped forward, gave Morin a tight hug, and patted him hard on the back.

"Our main force of the Teutonic Knights is now part of the First Army! And in this operation, my squadron will serve as armored support in the attack!"

"Long time no see, you rascal!" Morin chuckled and playfully punched his chest, his joy overflowing.

It feels so good to see old friends I haven't seen in a long time on the battlefield in a foreign land.

As the two were catching up, several officers, also dressed in Teutonic Knights uniforms, emerged from the tent behind Ludwig.

They saw their captain holding a captain who looked very young, and they all looked at Morin with curiosity, wondering what the relationship was between the young captain and their commander.

"Come on, let me introduce you."

Ludwig released Morin and, pulling him along, introduced him to his knights:
"Gentlemen, this is Captain Friedrich Morin, my sworn brother from Seville!"

Then, he introduced them to Morin: "These are my squad leaders."

The knights' officers saluted Morin politely, but their curiosity remained undiminished.

"Molin... Could this name be the same as that 'Molin'?" an officer muttered under his breath.

Ludwig seemed to sense their confusion and added with a smile, "You guessed right, this Captain Morin is the 'Butcher of Charleroi' who's been all the rage across the entire right wing lately."

"what?!"

Upon hearing this, the knights' officers, who had previously maintained their aristocratic composure, instantly erupted in uproar.

They stared wide-eyed at Morin as if he were a monster, their mouths agape enough to fit an egg.

"My God! He's the 'Butcher of Charleroi'?"

"My God, he looks so young, I thought he was going to be a burly man with a fierce face!"

"That's him! The one who single-handedly led a battalion and wiped out an entire Gaulish division!"

One officer couldn't control his voice and exclaimed in a low voice.

He didn't lose his composure intentionally; it was just that the recent exploits of the instructor's battalion and Morin on the Western Front, after being embellished and spread in various ways, had become increasingly outrageous and legendary.

According to the 'rumors' coming from the Second Army, Morin and his training assault battalion were practically a devilish force that had crawled out of hell.

Some versions say that one of their battalions fought a whole Gaulish army head-on at the gates of Charleroi, resulting in a bloodbath with corpses strewn across the battlefield.

Some versions say that the hundreds of soldiers in their camp were not ordinary people, and in a frontal charge, they directly broke the charging formation of thousands of Gallic cuirassiers.

Even more outrageous, some people claimed with absolute certainty that Captain Morin was exceptionally gifted with an astonishing appetite, capable of consuming two hundred roasted pork knuckles in one meal, more than a bear could eat.
(End of this chapter)