Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei's War Journey

Chapter 107 The Somme (Seeking monthly votes!)

When the Battle of the Somme broke out, Lu Mingfei was still teaching in Berlin, and he heard the news in class.

When news reached the classroom on July 1st that the British army had launched a major offensive on the Somme and suffered 70,000 casualties in a single day, everyone in the classroom erupted in cheers, whistles, and some even pounded on the table in excitement.

The usually stern teacher on the podium even smiled, tapping the Somme River on the map with his pointer and speaking loudly.

"Gentlemen! Do you see this? This is proof of the impregnability of the Imperial defenses! The British thought they could break through us as easily as they broke through the French's shoddy defenses, but what happened? Seventy thousand casualties in one day! This will be a great victory that will go down in history, enough to make any enemy tremble!"

A near-fanatical optimism filled the classroom. Britain’s attempt to open a new breakthrough on the Western Front had suffered a terrible setback, which seemed to confirm the invincibility of the Prussian army and dispelled the gloom brought about by the long stalemate at the Battle of Verdun.

The trainees were discussing it enthusiastically, as if the scales of victory had completely tipped and the end of the war was just around the corner.

Only Lu Mingfei sat quietly in his seat, staring at the newspaper spread out in front of him. The front page headline, printed in huge bold letters, was a sensational headline: "The Somme, the British Graveyard, 70,000 Casualties in One Day!"

The accompanying photo is a blurry picture taken from a distance by a war correspondent. The scene is filled with smoke, and you can vaguely see crisscrossing barbed wire and shell craters, as well as countless corpses lying in those craters.

Lu Mingfei neither cheered nor joined the discussion, because he understood that everything had just begun. The scales of victory were indeed beginning to tip, but the tipping was toward Prussia.

Soon, just as Lu Mingfei knew, battle reports from the Somme kept coming back to Berlin. Although the defenders of the Somme had held off the Anglo-French forces, the Anglo-French forces not only outnumbered the defenders by several times, but also had several times more artillery and aircraft.

In the following days, the Somme defenses began to be breached, and the defenders suffered heavy casualties. In order to prevent the Somme defenses from being completely breached, Prussia began to mobilize troops from Verdun to reinforce the Somme.

Moreover, Prussia began to forcibly conscript all men aged seventeen to sixty into the army.

Lu Mingfei and his group of half-baked officers graduated just like that. However, instead of immediately heading to the front lines, they began training these forcibly conscripted Prussians, who were in an even worse situation than Lu Mingfei had been.

Lu Mingfei and his team trained for eight weeks, while these new recruits only trained for one week. One week is not enough to transform them from ordinary citizens into soldiers. They only learned how to pull the trigger before being sent to the battlefield.

Lu Mingfei sat on the train, looking at the newspaper in his hand. The headline read, "Aerial Eagle! Second Lieutenant Caesar Hoffmann achieves another remarkable feat over the Somme, shooting down five enemy aircraft and earning the title of ace pilot!"

The accompanying photo showed Caesar standing next to the plane, looking as if he had returned to the way he looked when they first met, so confident and proud, even more radiant than before.

Lu Mingfei couldn't help but smile slightly. Caesar had gone to Verdun a week earlier than him, but as a pilot. Sure enough, the sky was Caesar's domain. He had become an ace pilot in just one week. He couldn't help but feel happy for his friend.

The train began to slow down. Lu Mingfei carefully put the newspaper in his hand, then looked up at the soldiers in the carriage.

Besides Otto and his original third platoon, there were many other faces among the soldiers. However, these faces were extremely polarized. The young ones looked only fifteen or sixteen years old, while the older ones looked fifty or sixty years old, old enough to be Lu Mingfei's grandfather.

At this time, he had officially become a lieutenant and assumed the position of company commander. The soldiers of the original third platoon began to become the backbone of this company, taking on the responsibilities of platoon leader and squad leader, and commanding these new recruits who had only undergone one week of training.

"We're about to head to the battlefield. You must unconditionally obey the orders of your platoon leader and squad leader. They will do their best to bring you back alive. Do you understand?" Lu Mingfei shouted loudly.

"I understand!!!"

A cacophony of responses, tinged with tension and a touch of bewilderment, rippled through the carriage.

The young faces still retained a sense of naivety and fear of the unknown, while the eyes of the older people were much more complex, showing resignation, worry, and concern for their wives, children, and elderly relatives.

They wore ill-fitting uniforms and held rifles they were not yet familiar with, like a flock of lambs being forcibly driven into the great furnace called the Somme.

Otto stood at the junction of the carriages. He was already a sergeant and served as the first platoon leader of Lu Mingfei's newly formed company.

He repeated his command in a rough voice, using the simplest and most brutal language: "Remember this! Follow me and don't wander off!"

"Get down as soon as you hear the shells and find the nearest ditch! Don't charge through the barbed wire, wait for the engineers! Fire only when I tell you to, don't waste bullets! Anyone who dares to disobey orders, I'll shoot them first!"

Carl, the second platoon leader, was more attentive than Otto. He was checking the soldiers' equipment one by one, helping a young soldier whose hands were trembling with fear to tighten his backpack strap, and whispering something to try to calm him down.

Lu Mingfei's gaze swept over the unfamiliar faces. He knew that these orders and reassurances were of little use in the face of real artillery fire. A week of training was not enough to even develop basic tactical formations and battlefield discipline.

Many of them might break down the first time they face machine gun fire, or lose their minds the first time they see someone around them blown to pieces.

This is the most brutal aspect of the war's later stages of attrition warfare: it's no longer just a confrontation between professional soldiers, but rather the forced deployment of the entire nation's human resources, regardless of age or readiness, to fill the gaps in the battle lines.

The train slowly pulled into a makeshift frontline supply depot, surrounded by bustling activity and deafening noise. The train spewed steam as it unloaded soldiers, ammunition, and supplies.

On the distant horizon, the thunderous roar of artillery fire continued incessantly. The sky was leaden gray, and planes trailing black smoke occasionally screeched past.

"Everyone get off! Organize your equipment! Line up!" Lu Mingfei stood up, was the first to pick up his rifle and backpack, and walked towards the vehicle door.

The soldiers disembarked in a chaotic manner, barely managing to form a crooked line under the reprimands of officers and veterans.

They looked at this unfamiliar land with curiosity and fear. The plumes of smoke rising in the distance and the constant explosions turned some of the young soldiers pale.

At that moment, a messenger from the regimental headquarters galloped up on horseback, reined in his horse in front of Lu Mingfei, and handed him an order: "Lieutenant Hans! Your company belongs to the 3rd Battalion of the 47th Reserve Infantry Regiment! Report to area E7 immediately and take over a section of the third line of defense! Here is the map and the pass code! Move quickly, the pressure over there is immense!"

Lu Mingfei took the order and quickly glanced at the third line of defense—meaning that two lines of defense had already been breached. This third line of defense was not far from the small town, and if it was breached, the town would fall.

Lu Mingfei immediately turned to face his company and began issuing orders: "Attention everyone! Target: E7 area, third line of defense! In platoons, maintain spacing and follow the guide! Otto platoon in the lead, Karl platoon in the middle, and the third platoon at the rear!"

There were no grand pre-battle mobilizations, only concise and clear instructions.

The team began moving forward along the muddy, rutted, and footprint-strewn road, and the further they went, the more shocking the scene became.

The wreckage of destroyed vehicles and the groans of wounded soldiers who could not be transported in time were on the roadside. Stretcher teams hurried back and forth, and shells occasionally streaked across the sky, landing near or far. Each explosion caused a commotion in the team, which could only be calmed down by the sergeants and veterans shouting.

Lu Mingfei walked to the side and front of the group, his gaze sweeping warily over the surrounding terrain and sky. He felt that familiar tension again, and the old wound in his abdomen seemed to throb, reminding him how close he had been to death last time.

This time, without Caesar by their side to warn them, they need to be extra careful.

After advancing for about an hour, they saw the trench they were to defend. Just as they were about to get close, Lu Mingfei's nose twitched suddenly.

A cloying, rotten smell wafted into his nostrils, somewhat like an overripe apple beginning to rot.

Lu Mingfei's pupils suddenly contracted, and all the muscles in his body tensed instantly. He immediately shouted to the soldiers behind him.

"Poison gas! Put on your gas masks!"

As war progressed, the methods of killing also evolved. Poison gas changed from the visible yellow-green chlorine to colorless phosphorus, which could only be detected by smell. However, once detected, it meant that the poison gas had been inhaled.

Moreover, this phosgene is six times more toxic than chlorine, but its longer incubation period makes it difficult to detect at first.

Those recruits who had only trained for a week and whose knowledge of poison gas was limited to the vague descriptions given in basic training camp panicked instantly, frantically groping for the gas mask pouches at their waists.

Veterans like Otto and Carl reacted quickly, already wearing masks, and rushed forward to help the trembling new recruits or those who couldn't find their buckles.

"Quick! Keep up! Charge into the trench! There's cover there!" Lu Mingfei, who had already put on his mask, waved his arms and pointed to the winding trench line in the distance, riddled with holes from artillery fire.

The troops no longer maintained their orderly formation and practically tumbled and crawled towards the trench. When they finally tumbled and crawled into the relatively deep bottom of the trench, they discovered that the trench had already been occupied by the British army.

Lu Mingfei and the others were stunned.

The British soldiers in the trenches were also bewildered by this group of people who suddenly rushed in from the gas-filled open area, wearing gas masks and grey uniforms.

However, Lu Mingfei immediately realized what was happening, and golden light flashed in his eyes as he unleashed the Word of Power he had obtained from Sakurai Akira. This was his first Word of Power in the true sense.

Upon hearing the power of the Word of Power: Ghostly Victory, Lu Mingfei felt his strength increase dramatically, and the will to kill roared in his mind like a beast unleashed from its cage.

In an instant, he drew his entrenching tool from his waist and charged toward the British soldiers. His body became a blurry afterimage, moving at more than twice the speed of usual. The entrenching tool cleaved toward the neck of the nearest British soldier.

The sharp blade encountered almost no resistance, slicing into flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter. The British soldier's head was severed from his body before his horrified expression could freeze. Blood gushed into the sky like a fountain, splattering all over Lu Mingfei's gas mask and the medals on his chest.

Without pausing, he used the momentum of his charge and the superhuman strength and agility brought by Gui Sheng to twist his body strangely, dodging the bayonet thrust by another British soldier next to him, and then swept his entrenching tool horizontally.

The British soldier's parrying arm was smashed off along with the gun barrel. He screamed and fell backward, but Lu Mingfei's shovel blade followed like a leech, shoveling deep into his chest.

Third place, fourth place—the majority of the British soldiers at the bottom of the trench were almost powerless against Lu Mingfei, this suddenly unleashed killing beast.

Lu Mingfei's figure moved like a ghost in the narrow space. Every swing of his entrenching tool brought up a spray of blood and bits of flesh. The sound of bones cracking, the screams of the dying, and the dull thud of the blade cutting through flesh instantly turned this trench into a bloody slaughterhouse!

The battle ended in just one minute. Twenty or thirty corpses lay scattered at the bottom of the trench. Lu Mingfei stood in the middle of the corpses, panting slightly. The effects of Ghost Victory were rapidly fading, followed by a strong sense of weakness and a faint backlash pain that came from all over his body.

Gui Sheng's method of increasing his power is to unlock the body's limiters, so every time he uses it, he damages his body due to excessive force. Although this incantation can also speed up the healing of wounds, it is still not enough compared to the damage.

Lu Mingfei slowly turned around and looked at his soldiers. The recruits were already pale with fright, and some even bent over and retched. Lu Mingfei deliberately made the scene so bloody so that these recruits would fully understand the cruelty of the battlefield.

Lu Mingfei wiped the blood-stained entrenching shovel on the corpse, then casually tucked it back into his waistband. He took off his gas mask and took a deep breath of the murky air mixed with the smell of blood and gunpowder; the rotten apple smell had already disappeared.

"Clear the bodies, reinforce the position, and be quick, they'll react soon," Lu Mingfei ordered.

If they had been a few minutes later, the trench would have been completely captured by the British, which would have shown that the defensive line was in grave danger and that the British reinforcements would soon be rushing up.

The new recruits were still in fear, but under the stern urging of the veterans and the shock of the bloody scene just now, they began to clumsily carry out orders.

They dragged the bodies of British soldiers one by one to a deep crater behind the trench and hastily buried them, picked up the scattered weapons and ammunition, and used trembling hands to carry sandbags to repair the bombed-out bunkers.

Just then, Lu Mingfei heard the sound of an airplane engine. He looked up sharply and saw a British BE2 fighter jet flying towards them.

"Everyone take cover! Don't move!" Lu Mingfei roared in a low voice, his heart tightening, as he pressed himself tightly against the trench wall to minimize his exposed area.

The new recruits panicked and lay down, some even burying their heads in the mud. Otto, Karl, and other veterans quickly sought cover, nervously watching the sky.

They had to avoid revealing themselves as much as possible, otherwise, if the plane spotted them, they would be shelled by the British in a few minutes. They had just captured the position and were not yet firmly established, so being shelled would inevitably result in considerable casualties.

The British BE2 fighter flew not far overhead. The pilot seemed to notice the trench where the battle had just taken place, circling slightly in the air for half a circle, but then, as if he hadn't found anything, he began to leave.

Just as Lu Mingfei breathed a sigh of relief, a burst of bullets hit the trenches around them, and they were discovered.

"Give me the machine gun!" Lu Mingfei shouted hurriedly. Now he had to shoot down that plane, but the plane was flying too high and his Wraith Gun didn't have that long a range, so only the machine gun had a chance of hitting it.

Lu Mingfei took over an MG08 light machine gun that had only started production two months earlier. Prussia had previously been using heavy machine guns weighing one or two hundred pounds, and the light machine guns were all captured from the French.

Just as Lu Mingfei raised his gun to shoot down the plane, a Fokker E.1I fighter jet with red paint and a conspicuous black Iron Cross on its wings flew over from a distance and began to engage the British BE2 fighter jet in dogfight.

The red Fokker E.III fighter plane, like a crimson falcon swooping down on its prey, was not only far faster than the cumbersome BE2, but also far more maneuverable. With a few clean and sharp rolls and turns, it easily caught the tail of the British reconnaissance plane.

Lu Mingfei put down the machine gun, his golden eyes gleaming slightly in the sunlight. He recognized the aircraft's paint scheme; it wasn't the typical color of the Prussian Air Force, but rather a flamboyant personal symbol.

The infamous Red Baron of later generations hadn't even begun to show his talent yet, and the only Puss pilot now capable of such skillful piloting of the Fokker E.III and possessing such an aggressive flying style—there could only be one—

"It's Caesar!" Otto exclaimed from the side, recognizing him as well, his eyes gleaming with disbelief.

As if to confirm their suspicions, the nose of the red Fokker EI suddenly spat out two short tongues of fire, and the bullets from the synchronized machine gun accurately tore open the BE2's fragile wings and rear fuselage.

Soon, BE2, trailing billowing black smoke, lost control in the air, spinning as it plummeted towards the ground in the distance, exploding into a fireball.

A single, decisive blow! Clean, swift, and without any hesitation!

Having dealt with the aerial threat, the red Fokker EI did not leave. Instead, it gracefully rolled to the side, lowered its altitude, and skimmed almost close to the trench and the open ground ahead.

The pilot even turned his head and waved towards the trench below. Despite the distance and the cockpit window, Lu Mingfei could still feel that familiar gaze, which carried a hint of teasing, but more of a declaration of his arrival.

Immediately afterwards, the plane pulled up sharply, its nose pointing to the sky, once again demonstrating its excellent climb performance. But it did not leave; instead, it rejoined the battle. Almost simultaneously, two more Prussian planes appeared on the horizon, joining the formation of the red Fokker E.III.

Clearly, this was not a chance encounter; it was a well-prepared air strike team on patrol or hunting missions.

The leader of this squadron is likely Kaiser Hoffman, the newly appointed air knight who has just made a name for himself over the Somme and quickly become an ace.

"This guy—" Lu Mingfei couldn't help but chuckle as he looked at Caesar's smug expression.

The soldiers from the original third platoon who recognized Caesar were now all waving their arms and cheering excitedly and proudly at the red figure and its wingman that were gradually climbing and disappearing into the distance.

Lu Mingfei's smile faded. He took a deep breath and ordered the soldiers, who were still cheering for the air reinforcements, "Alright! Stop watching! Get the trenches repaired! Check the weapons, distribute ammunition, and prepare for the next attack! Quickly!"

His voice once again pulled everyone back to the harsh reality.