Chapter 599: This Was All the Work of the British
One kilometer west of Fort "Bueno" in Antwerp, a German unit the size of a battalion was launching an assault on the British supply depot.
As they advanced, they fired their rifles and shouted to one another in German:
"The warehouse ahead belongs to the British—watch the supplies!"
"We need those supplies! There's a lot of gasoline in there, and we're desperately short of it!"
"No shelling, no grenades—only fire once you've aimed!"
...
Supplies were a treasure for any army, and Germany—strangled by the Allied blockade—was no exception.
So the Germans chose a cautious assault. Unless absolutely necessary, they didn't fire. Even in close combat, they used rifle butts to knock out British soldiers instead of killing them.
The British troops were thrown into total confusion.
The Germans had arrived so quickly it felt like they had burst out of the ground. Suddenly, they were right in front of them.
And there were so many—an entire infantry battalion, five to six hundred men.
By contrast, the British side had only one infantry company and one engineering company. The infantry were mainly guards, while the engineers were tasked with clearing snow, maintaining roads, and moving supplies.
Both companies had already been shredded by German airstrikes and were completely combat ineffective—there was no way they could withstand an assault by a force many times their size.
Most crucially, Major Colton, who was in charge of defending the depot, was deeply confused by Lieutenant General Aivis's orders:
"Protect the supplies? Even if we have to surrender, don't destroy them?"
"Does that mean we're supposed to use our bodies to shield the supplies?"
"Even that might not work—the depot's full of ammo and gasoline. A few grenades could set off a chain explosion or an unstoppable fire!"
Looking up at the sky, where German fighter planes were diving and strafing, Major Colton realized he had only one option.
"Retreat!" he shouted. "Everyone out of the depot!"
Under fire from the fighter planes, the British troops retreated in a panic, leaving the fully stocked warehouse untouched for the Germans. Only a few "laborers" failed to escape in time and were captured.
But those "laborers" were surprised to find that the Germans didn't seem interested in taking them prisoner. They confiscated their weapons, barked some orders, and chased them off.
What neither the British nor Major Colton knew was that the German pilots above were just as surprised by what they saw below:
"Our ground troops already broke through and are behind enemy lines?"
"And they've captured the depot too? These guys are incredible—well done!"
"Protect them, brothers. Don't let anyone else get close!"
...
Lieutenant General Aivis soon received a call from Major General Eden.
"The depot has been captured by the Germans," Eden reported grimly. "They clearly came prepared. Their aircraft are strafing the entire area—no one can get close."
Lieutenant General Aivis was devastated. "No matter the cost, General, we must retake that depot. You know how vital those supplies are!"
"I understand, General," Eden replied. "I'll do my best."
...
Dunkirk, British Expeditionary Force Headquarters.
Kitchener had just gotten up and was enjoying breakfast in his private quarters. Today, he planned to visit the Somme River.
That was the Expeditionary Force's most critical battlefield. They had to make a breakthrough to establish dominance and intimidate the colonial forces.
But Haig's stubborn conservatism remained the biggest obstacle. He refused to use massed tank assaults and insisted on traditional infantry and cavalry charges.
"I need to go there and take command myself," Kitchener muttered, shaking his head slightly as he cut into his steak.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed from outside, and the door burst open.
"Field Marshal!" a staff officer gasped, "The Germans have launched an attack!"
"An attack?" Kitchener's eyes lit up. "At the Somme?"
That would be great news. He had been frustrated by the German trenches and machine guns—if they were attacking, it might be a chance to break through.
"No, sir," the officer said, panic in his voice. "It's Antwerp!"
"Antwerp?" Kitchener frowned. That was unexpected.
But he wasn't too concerned. German forces were tied up at Verdun and the Somme. They shouldn't have much left to launch an offensive in Antwerp.
And the British had heavily fortified the Antwerp line.
Then the officer added, "We were caught completely off guard. The entire front has collapsed."
Kitchener's knife and fork clattered onto the plate. He looked up, stunned: "What… what did you say?"
"Our forces have collapsed across the board," the officer repeated. "The German vanguard has reached the fortress line and even penetrated Antwerp, seizing the supply depot."
"What? They've taken the supply depot?!"
The officer continued with more grim news: "Our sea supply lines were attacked by German submarines. We lost 37 transport ships and destroyers. More than ten others were captured by the Germans—status unknown."
Kitchener leapt to his feet and rushed to the wall map, locating the Antwerp line.
It was over. He suddenly realized the Germans' strategy—they were trying to break through by cutting off supplies.
And it was the British—his own forces—who were right in the middle of that breakthrough, facing Germany's elite troops.
...
Paris City Hall. As Briand entered the building, he was immediately stopped by Clemenceau.
"Emergency, Prime Minister," Clemenceau said anxiously. "The Germans are attacking Antwerp. The situation is dire—the British are in full retreat."
"What?" Briand was stunned. "The Germans shouldn't have the strength to launch a major assault on Antwerp."
"They don't—only two corps, maybe a hundred thousand men," Clemenceau replied. "But the British…"
He shrugged and his sickle-like mustache twitched. The gesture seemed to say: We can't count on them for anything in war.
"We're holding an emergency meeting to discuss the situation," Clemenceau added, gesturing toward the Chamber of Deputies.
On the way, Briand couldn't help but ask, "How bad is it?"
"Very bad," Clemenceau sighed. "The Germans have used submarines to blockade the shipping routes—and they've captured the Antwerp supply depot."
Briand stopped in his tracks, eyes wide with shock. "You're saying… all the supplies are in German hands?"
Clemenceau turned and nodded. "I'm afraid so, Prime Minister."
Briand's face went pale.
Just recently, he had coordinated with the British to cut off Charles's supplies and render him combat ineffective.
Now, the Germans had captured the Antwerp depot and seized control of all the supplies.
Had they just completely lost control of the situation?
They had planned to weaken and control Charles, but it had spiraled into the collapse of the entire defensive line.
Clemenceau moved closer, glanced around, and whispered:
"We know nothing, Prime Minister.
This… this was all the British."
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