CHAPTER 433: CHAPTER 433 A POWERLESS CONFRONTATION

The sunrise from the east transforms the previously dark world into one filled with light, as the rays pierce through the wispy clouds, casting a faint red glow on the ground, seemingly foretelling the imminent slaughter about to unfold on this land.

The moment Major General Jornis realized that enemy tanks were advancing from the rear towards his defensive line, his mind went blank, and he stood there, unsure of what to do.

"General," the commander of the guard company shouted at him, "the enemy is here, hundreds of tanks! What should we do?"

Standing on the building, the guard company commander had a clear view. Under the sunlight, French tanks filled his vision, the closest just over three hundred meters away, and he could even see the dark muzzle of the tanks.

These steel beasts were rumbling forward at full speed, raising a cloud of dust like a sandstorm, seemingly about to engulf the small village of Puville.

Major General Jornis hesitated for a moment, then responded in a panic, "Hold them off, buy time for the main forces!"

The guard company commander was momentarily speechless. How could they hold them off?

With rifles?

Using wooden houses?

But as a soldier, obeying orders was paramount. Despite his confusion, he still shouted to his subordinates, "Prepare for battle!"

The soldiers didn’t think twice, mechanically raising their rifles and moving to their positions.

This was the result of long-term training. The habits formed during peacetime ensured they unconditionally followed orders, deploying troops according to infantry tactics.

However, it seemed inappropriate at this moment: some soldiers climbed onto rooftops to set up machine guns, others positioned themselves on balconies or by windows.

"Bang bang."

"Bang bang bang!"

...

The German Army fired first, but the bullets striking the tanks only created a few sparks, even though some were K rounds.

This seemed to alert the French tanks.

The French had not anticipated enemies on the wooden church; that would be suicidal. But the sparks from the Germans’ gunfire told them otherwise.

The leading tanks slowed their speed slightly.

They didn’t plan to stop, but adjusted their guns and cannons a bit while advancing, then crazily fired at the enemies in the elevated positions on the church.

Machine gun bullets hitting the wooden boards made "popping" sounds, beams of light piercing through the holes like sharp swords, shredding the German soldiers hiding behind them into pieces of flesh and blood.

The 37mm cannons followed, each explosion sending up splinters. German soldiers, screaming, were flung several meters by the shockwaves, even if not directly hit by shells. Their bodies were pierced by variously sized, jagged wooden fragments, lying on the ground, bleeding and convulsing, with no breath left.

Realizing the unfavorable situation, Major General Jornis quickly led his guards towards the trench area for retreat.

They hadn’t gone far before tanks were rumbling up behind them. Several guards dragged Jornis to hide behind a wooden house.

But this was clearly not a good idea.

Without any psychological preparation, with a "boom" sound, a tank smashed a large hole through the wooden house, passing through it.

Two guards clinging to the wooden wall with their guns in hand didn’t even have time to scream before being crushed into pulp, blood and wood splinters spraying to the sides like a watermelon smashed open, splattering Major General Jornis’ face, warm and vile-smelling.

Major General Jornis was dumbfounded. He stared in horror at the two pools of flesh and blood on the ground, mixed with the dirt and indistinguishable, yet still clear with track marks, with limbs spread out and "posed" on both sides, even twitching.

Major General Jornis was a seasoned veteran with a reputation for bravery.

But at this moment, he was terrified. He truly felt the insignificance of human power and realized that his troops and preparations were powerless against the machines, leading only to death.

"Surrender," Major General Jornis murmured, his voice trembling, eyes filled with deep fear.

"What?" The guard company commander couldn’t believe what Major General Jornis had said.

"Surrender," Major General Jornis raised his volume, "now, immediately!"

He wanted to escape it all, as quickly as possible!

"Yes, General," the guard company commander responded, turning to his subordinates and shouting, "Did you hear? Surrender! Prepare the white flag!"

A quick-witted guard immediately pulled a white tablecloth from inside, swiftly tying it to a broom and waving it towards the French forces.

They were fortunate that Shire’s orders this time were to take prisoners.

The reason was the sheer number of enemies, with estimates of thirty thousand wounded. If they killed all of them, it could cause the German Army to retaliate bitterly: in future battles, the Germans, no matter how dire the situation, would resist to the end, knowing that surrendering was meaningless since it still led to death.

The tanks continued their advance, ignoring the soldiers raising rifles over their heads, heading straight for the trench area.

Following behind were armored vehicles, the soldiers on them aiming machine guns and rifles at the Germans, eyes vigilant and threatening, fingers ready on the trigger.

Finally, the Belgian Resistance joined in, some being villagers themselves, responsible for disarming the Germans and gathering the prisoners together.

A few hundred meters away, the German soldiers in the trench area were unaware of what was happening. Some even thought those from behind were their own tanks, excitedly waving at them.

...

Soon, the successful occupation of Puville village was reported to Shire’s command.

The result surprised Shire: over twenty thousand German soldiers surrendered, in addition to more than six thousand lightly and severely wounded soldiers left behind, along with a large amount of supplies and a defensible line.

It was astounding that an armored regiment and a mechanized regiment, with just over six thousand troops, could so easily capture several times their number of Germans.

However, upon reflection, it made sense. War is not just about troop numbers, but strength and strategy.

Additionally, the Germans in Puville might have been worn out: previously, their breakout was a stroke of luck, but soon after, they found themselves surrounded again, with the French stabbing them from the back, causing their morale to collapse sharply.

Excitedly holding onto the radio, Tijani asked Shire, "What do we do now? Should we leave the Resistance to hold Puville?"

Shire always worried about the lack of infantry, which is why only an armored regiment and a mechanized regiment were sent to such a crucial place as Puville.

Shire shook his head; the Germans might fiercely assault Puville, and the resistance fighters, lacking combat experience and even basic training, couldn’t stop them.

"Contact General Fuxu," Shire said, "ask him to send reinforcements."

Then Shire added, "Reassure them, our armored regiment will clear a path to support them!"