Chapter 13: Reserve Team, Advance!

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After hearing that Morin seemed to have another option besides a frontal assault, the other platoon leader of Third Company also spoke up in persuasion. “Sir, a frontal attack would cost us too many lives. Perhaps we should give Second Lieutenant Morin’s plan a try!”

Time passed second by second. The screams of the surviving men from First and Second Companies ahead, together with the intermittent bursts from the Vickers machine gun, lashed at everyone’s nerves like whips.

Several seconds later, Captain Hauser seemed to have made up his mind. He swept his hand sharply through the air.

“All right! Morin! Take your men up the left flank! If your plan fails, I don’t care how the fighting goes—you are to fall back toward the main force immediately! Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” A great weight lifted from Morin’s heart.

Without the slightest hesitation, he turned to face his men.

“Third Platoon! Follow me!”

He wasted no words. Turning on his heel, he ran along the edge of the bushes toward the more complicated terrain on the left.

Platoon Sergeant Klaus was the first to react. He roared, “Stay with the platoon leader! Move! Everybody, get going!”

The four corporals and squad leaders immediately began urging their men forward as well. The force of eighty quickly detached itself from the company’s main body and plunged into the difficult terrain on the left flank after Morin.

Once they entered the woods, Morin issued the first genuine combat order of his new life in this world.

“Platoon, listen up! Advance dispersed, by squad! Keep your distance—do not bunch up!”

Such an order was entirely unfamiliar to the Saxon soldiers.

Fortunately, Morin’s voice was clear and decisive. Platoon Sergeant Klaus and the other four corporals quickly grasped his meaning and repeated the order again and again. Though the soldiers were somewhat flustered, they followed it all the same.

“First Squad, halt at that rise fifty meters ahead! If enemy troops approach the main force from any other direction, open fire and cover us!”

Morin pointed toward a position and shouted to one of the corporals.

“Yes, sir!”

The corporal immediately led the two squads of First Platoon forward at a run. They reached the rise and used the trees and earth embankment as cover while setting up their rifles.

“The rest of you, follow me! We’re going through the riverbed!”

Morin led the way, sliding down into the dry riverbed, more than a meter deep.

The other soldiers followed close behind, moving rapidly under the protection of the sunken terrain.

The Vickers machine gun continued roaring savagely from the right, but its attention was fixed entirely on the frontal battlefield. It had no idea that this small force was quietly closing in through the blind spot of its field of vision.

After running nearly a hundred and fifty meters along the riverbed, Morin glanced at the minimap. They were almost at the village’s flank when gunfire suddenly erupted from the rise where First Squad had taken position behind them.

Morin raised a hand. The entire force halted and crouched low in the riverbed.

Klaus, the sergeant beside him, did not even wait for an order. He crawled to the opposite bank and cautiously poked his head over the edge for a look.

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“Second Lieutenant, a small number of enemy troops are approaching from the direction of the village. First Squad is firing on them and has already pinned them down.”

“Good!”

Morin nodded, then turned solemnly toward his platoon sergeant.

“Sergeant Klaus, you and Second Squad will establish a supporting position here. If we’re driven back, cover our retreat to the riverbed…”

“Second Lieutenant, you should stay here! The assault is too dangerous!” Klaus hesitated, clearly reluctant to let Morin put himself in harm’s way.

“Enough talk. That’s an order!”

Klaus stopped arguing. At once, he and another corporal led two squads of soldiers quietly up the slope beside the riverbed.

Morin, meanwhile, took the remaining two squads—more than forty men—and continued forward with them crouched low.

Perhaps First Squad’s covering fire had done its job, for the advance encountered no further interference. Morin soon led the men to the point where the riverbed met the village.

The two-story farmhouse serving as the machine-gun position now lay exposed ahead and to their side. According to the map, it was less than a hundred meters away.

“Corporal Jonah!”

Morin raised a hand and summoned one of the two corporals remaining at his side. The latter immediately came over with his rifle in hand.

“See that two-story farmhouse?”

“Yes, Second Lieutenant!”

“I’ll lead Third Squad in the assault. Take Fourth Squad and watch the doors and windows facing us. If you see any movement, open fire at once and keep the enemy pinned down. Don’t let them attack us! Can you do it?”

“Leave it to me, Second Lieutenant!”

Morin nodded, then led the last corporal and two squads of soldiers up out of the riverbed in a sprint toward the farmhouse.

The movement was soon noticed by the enemy.

When Corporal Jonah, watching the farmhouse, saw a figure appear in one of the second-floor windows, he immediately raised his Gew.98 rifle, aimed at the window, and fired first.

“Second-floor window of the farmhouse! Fire at will! Open fire!”

Crack!

One sharp rifle shot rang out.

A moment later, the twenty rifles beside him fired as one.

The Gew.98 was renowned for its accuracy, while Saxon soldiers were held to strict standards of marksmanship in their daily training.

All twenty bullets flew into the farmhouse’s second-floor window, sending splinters of wood flying. The figure inside vanished as well.

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They had the enemy pinned down!

Corporal Jonah was elated. He immediately shouted, “Seventh Squad, keep firing! Don’t give them a chance to breathe! Eighth Squad, watch the other doors and windows!”

He worked the bolt. A hot cartridge case ejected, and another round was chambered.

Elsewhere, Sergeant Klaus lay on the slope beside the riverbed, watching Morin and his men advance. He still did not understand why the new platoon leader had brought them here to hold this position.

Before he could figure it out, however, he saw several soldiers in the black uniforms of the Kingdom Army burst from the other buildings to the right of the two-story farmhouse and run toward Morin’s men.

“Everyone, aim at the enemy near the farmhouse! Fire!”

A rapid volley erupted at once. The soldiers Morin had stationed there unleashed precise, sustained rifle fire, and the Kingdom Army troops who had rushed out were thrown into utter disarray.

At that moment, Sergeant Klaus finally understood Morin’s intention.

The line of sight!

From the slope beside the riverbed, the two-story farmhouse and several surrounding buildings all fell within their field of fire. If the enemy tried to attack Morin’s men, they would have to pass directly in front of their muzzles.

So long as they held this position, the enemy in the village would find it difficult to threaten Morin’s assault.

…

Meanwhile, Morin and two squads of soldiers charged unhindered all the way to the farmhouse.

“Corporal Bauman, you and Fifth Squad watch the village! Sixth Squad, with me. Prepare grenades!”

After giving the final corporal his orders, Morin led the way to the farmhouse door and pressed himself against the wall beside it.

The soldiers of Sixth Squad, along with the two messengers who had been following him, copied him and took positions on either side of the entrance.

“Throw grenades through the second-floor windows! And let one brave man toss one through the machine-gun firing window!”

Two riflemen in Sixth Squad carried fewer rounds but had four spherical grenades apiece. Following Morin’s order, they immediately threw grenades through the second-floor windows.

One especially daring soldier even leaned around the corner to make sure no enemy was watching, then slipped beneath the machine-gun firing window. He pulled the safety pin and sent the grenade sailing accurately inside.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Several explosions thundered through the farmhouse’s second floor. On Morin’s minimap, the red marker representing the enemy machine-gun position was stamped with a red cross.

And at last, the terrifying roar of the machine gun on the battlefield fell silent.

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