Chapter 73
Chapter 73
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: Second Battle of Ypres (1)
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Ypres Frontline.
The frontline centered around Ypres was positioned between the Yser Frontline in West Flanders above and the central French frontline below.
Ypres held considerable military importance for three reasons: first, supplies; second, its geographical position; and third, political factors.
As a key supply hub, Ypres was handling the logistical needs of the Anglo-French Allied forces holding it—an advantage that surpassed German supply capabilities and gave the Allies a relative edge.
Thus, seizing Ypres would reverse the balance of power, and the Allied forces in the area would undoubtedly face severe supply shortages.
"Moreover, OHL fears the enemy might launch offensives from both flanks at Ypres and Champagne to target the salient in the central French frontline."
"Meaning the enemy could strike at our rail lines?"
"Exactly. If their attack succeeds, our field armies in central France will suffer catastrophic losses."
"Good heavens..."
"The final reason is that capturing Ypres alone would mean the end of Belgium."
Ypres was the last major city left in Belgium.
Success there would undoubtedly have a massive impact on morale for both sides.
Prior to the assault on Ypres, the 4th Army commander, Albrecht, Duke of Württemberg, summarized one last time.
"Unlike the French, who have been continuously on the offensive and depleted, the Ypres frontline is still primarily held by British forces."
"British forces..."
"The same British who fed us a massive humiliation in the last battle."
Britain's elite troops, built around conscription, had fully demonstrated their prowess.
During the race to the sea, in the First Battle of Ypres, they had mounted a miraculous defense that halted the 4th Army's advance.
From a neutral perspective, the British heroic resistance had completely foiled the Schlieffen Plan.
From the German viewpoint, it was the 4th Army's blunder that caused the plan's failure.
"We must have our revenge."
Württemberg clenched his fist and said quietly.
For the Second Battle of Ypres, OHL had concentrated massive quantities of new weapons and supplies, demanding the headquarters give their all.
But if they failed again... it would go beyond a mere matter of pride.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Dawn. French 45th Algerian Division.
As the sun began to brighten, black soldiers rose, prepared, and awaited the day's assault orders.
"Another shitty day begins."
"Shh, quiet. If the officers hear you, you're dead."
"Fuck. That bastard should be grateful we haven't shot him in the back."
"You there!! All prepared and chatting?!"
Click— The Muslim soldier spat curses as he loaded his rifle.
Just as they awaited the assault signal...
"...Shells!!!"
"Fuck!!!"
The enemy struck first.
Boom! Crash! Shells hammered the trenches, and the careless Muslim soldiers scrambled for cover.
Mortar shells or something larger—they couldn't tell. What was certain was the insane density of fire, as if concentrated on them.
Germany's specialty: Hurricane bombardment. It meant the Germans were coming.
"They're coming...! Everyone to firing positions!!"
"Fuck, kill them. We can kill them..."
Amid the chaos, the Muslim soldiers skillfully retreated into their bunkers, intending to defend.
But... something was off.
"...Huh?"
Boom!! Boom!! The shells... instead of exploding on impact...
Belched out an eerie yellow smoke.
"What the...?"
"Did those devils stuff dirt in the shells instead of powder?"
That was when it happened.
"Ugh, cough!! Hack!! Hack!!!"
"What is it, what's happening!!"
"My chest..."
"Aaaagh!!!"
Booom!!! Boom!!! Faintly... a mustard smell spread.
Private Mohammed Bella couldn't comprehend what was happening.
"It burns!!! It's burning!!!! Aaaaaaah!!!!!"
"Cough!!! Cough!!! Can't... breathe...!!!"
"Huh? Huh?"
Not even caught in the explosions.
Not shot either, yet his comrades were collapsing with horrific screams.
'I... I have to run.'
"Retreat!! Cough, ugh! Retreat!! Cough! Gaaack!!"
"It hurts!!! My eyyyyyes!!!!"
"Kaaaaah..."
Bella instinctively realized.
The thickening yellow smoke was killing them.
"No!! No!!! Don't come any closer!!!"
But by the time he realized, they were already deep in the bunkers to avoid the shells.
Terrified, Bella pressed himself against the wall end and screamed at the approaching gas, but it was meaningless.
'I'll die like this...!'
"Grrrk..."
"S-save... meee..."
Screams and groans came from outside.
But staying meant the gas would soon arrive, sealing his death.
Sizzle! Hesitating, Bella tore his sleeve and pressed it over his mouth and nose.
"Hoo... hoo..."
As the gas drew perilously close...
"Hnnngh!!!"
Bella held his breath and bolted out.
'My eyes...! Burning!! Too hot!!'
Sizzle— Overwhelming terror and pain overwhelmed the soldier's thoughts.
Every bit of skin touched by the smoke felt like it was being burned by fire, and his eyes felt crushed, unable to open.
"Hoo... hoo... sob..."
But eyes shut, groping the wall, he finally emerged from the bunker.
'I survived...!'
Now he just had to crawl up and escape this hellish scene.
Then he could live. His throat and chest began to hurt, but not fatally.
Clinging to hope, as Bella tried to exit the trench...
'I lived!! Haha, I still l...!'
Bang!! Thud-
He collapsed with a hole in his head.
"..."
"...Hoo-"
From afar.
Through the yellow smoke... chlorine gas... soldiers in gas masks advanced.
"Hoo- hoo-"
"Hoo- Forward, forward."
Like plague doctors who had risked their lives treating patients amid black plague corpses.
The soldiers wore similar apocalyptic protective gear... but with entirely different intent.
They were doctors prescribing death.
"Cough... hack..."
Bang!! Bang!! In the misty chlorine gas fog, the soldiers mercifully finished off the suffering Muslim troops.
"Hooo- hooo-"
Stormtroopers, clad head to toe in chemical protective suits and gas masks, casually dispatched nearby survivors and pressed forward.
Any remaining live ones would be handled by the flamethrower teams from the heavy weapons unit following behind.
"Hoo- Putting niggers on the frontline. Hoo- Guess they really thought we were pushovers?"
"Hoo- Was a bit worried, but no need. Hoo- No one's gonna bitch about gassing niggers."
"Hoo- Higher-ups will handle it fine."
"Everyone halt! Hoo- Fire chem shells again and advance!"
The Stormtroopers' movements were precisely coordinated.
Chem shells, advance without haste while exterminating the enemy, chem shells again.
Due to chemical residues, they avoided horses in the Ypres area, relying solely on trucks for supplies.
The switch to chem shells, distribution of protective suits and gas masks—it massively increased supply demands, but the German Empire had invested accordingly in the Ypres frontline.
The result.
"What the hell is going on!"
"Ypres northwest and southwest have collapsed! At this rate, the divisions deployed on the Ypres frontline will be encircled!"
"Those bastards used chemical weapons! The Algerian Division retreated, but losses are extreme!"
Per the artillery and infantry timetables, the Germans began slowly closing in on Ypres.
Slowly, but surely.
"These fucking... they've been building pretexts for chemical weapons all this time."
"No, even so, does that make sense? Starting full chemical warfare over some tear gas?"
"That's the pretext. They just wanted to use poison gas and pinned it on the tear gas."
"Haa..."
British Expeditionary Force commander General John French trembled with rage and bowed his head.
Neither the British nor French had any preparations for chemical warfare.
Too fixated on the Paris air raids, they'd been caught flat-footed.
"...We must inform our government first. Given the situation, we have no choice but to launch chemical attacks ourselves. We'll request protective suits and gas masks too, but I wonder if they can produce them quickly."
"What about the forces deployed on the Ypres frontline?"
"Obviously..."
French answered immediately, as if wondering why ask such a thing.
"Tell them to hold. Ypres is a hub we cannot yield. Whether by shells or chemical attack, I won't allow a single step back."
"Quite right, sir."
"The French are thinking the same. They'll do their part, so we hold ours."
The staff nodded indifferently, agreeing with the commander.
The French and British high commands, though they wouldn't see it that way.
Didn't grasp the reality of trench warfare. Let alone what adding chemical warfare meant.
Even if soldiers died by shells or agonizingly by chem shells.
To high command, they were just numbers.
"Well, it's about lunchtime. Fresh tea leaves just arrived from home—let's have a taste."
Even if they learned the reality, felt guilt, agonized more... they'd reach the same decision. That's war.
And so, beneath Ypres skies, the war crossed an irreversible line.