CHAPTER 1 - LA MERDE!
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The war had been looking quite bad for the Entente for a while now.
On March of 1918, the Russians had already dropped out of the war with the rebellion of the Bolsheveiks, leading the the Russian Empire dropping out of the war and the Bolsheveiks ceding most of their industrial territory to Germans in the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk so they could focus on the civil war with Czarist Russia.
On May of 1918 the Romanians had been thoroughly crushed by the combined forces of Austria-Hungary and Germany and had been forced to sign the Treaty of Bucharest.
On June 1918, the Treaty of Batum had been signed, which expanded further Ottoman influence in the Caucasus.
Athens had been occupied on July 1918, forcing the Greek surrender.
But that didn't mean that things were looking anything fine for the Western Front either.
Even now, after the failed Great Spring Offensive, the French and British have both suffered terrible damage on their side on the economic, manpower, industrial, and magical resources.
And after such a great campaign, with none of it’s intended objectives completed, France herself once again saw united with one of her greatest enemies.
Mutiny.
As people were beginning to get sick of the war, people found themselves snatched up by more radical ideals like communism, people banded together and demanded the government make an armistice.
Multiple worker’s strikes, insurgent attacks, and the spread of radical ideology made France’s forces too overstretched to defend even its most vital corners of the foundations that still kept it in this war.
The Irish war of independence had begun, and it continued to draw away British manpower while the Germans exploited it and pushed inch by inch with blood.
And on the 2nd of March, the Germans had launched their own Great Spring offensive at St. Mihiel, south of Verdun. Their infiltration tactics prove to be successful, with Nancy falling on the 16th.
France and the United Kingdom, terribly short in manpower and major allies, hoped that it could have somehow got the United States, nicknamed ‘The Sleeping Giant’ to join their war, hoping to have increased their manpower by tenfold, as well as bringing the already unfair production game to it’s limits.
But as one of the British submarines sunk down an American ship carrying Christmas presents for Germany, the Entente not only couldn’t hope to make the United States join the war at their side anymore, but now political backlash from the United States has also demanded that at least a partial opening of Britain’s naval blockade be made, essentially putting down the United Kingdom’s plan to starve the Germans.
The British and French were corned like rats, with the big cat called Germany slowly getting ready for it's final pounce.
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March 25 1919, Reims, France, The French Front
*slap*
“Another day at work Josué, let’s keep the motherland safe today as well.”
Inside a cramped commanding officer’s room was the display of a man slapping himself to keep himself awake.
The man was named Josué Barthet, a French battlemage who controlled a specific unit just outside of the Reims.
Though he had the rank of Captain, it would have been unwise to rely on his experience as the only reason he had been promoted up to it was because he was the next best thing as most of the French military staff died during the Great Spring Offensive.
“*Yawn*”
But still, being unreliable didn’t stop him from doing what he could to contribute in the war effort, as it was his idea to keep the entire 5th Army at bay from just a mile away so they were unable to advance any further.
And since he was a battlemage, when the time came he himself could even help the men at the trenches push off the German invaders.
“La merde! What time is it?” Josué said as he checked his pocket watch while he was walking towards the artillery sections of the French trenches.
“Tch …” Josué found himself swearing as he walked because he only just remembered that he lost his pocket watch while retreating from the Great Offensive.
“That was such a good watch too …” Josué lamented about the loss of his dear possession, wondering how he could check the time …
Until a young voice suddenly caught his attention.
“It is 7 in the morning sir!”
“You …”
“Good morning Capitaine!” The soldier said as he stood up straight and did a salute.
“At ease, good morning to you as well Hubert.”
Hubert Camille was a private who was conscripted from one of the backwater regions of the Champagne regions, and it had just so happened that he had a clean record and wanted to serve the country, so France didn’t really have any reason not to take him.
By far, he didn’t really have any formal magecraft training, but he was an able-bodied, still a mage, and could speak German so it was somewhat useful to have him around.
It was by sheer luck that he was assigned to his unit, and something that he was thankful for as well, since interpretors were welcome.
The chances of a German envoy coming up the trenches holding a white flag with their arms up were dastardly low, but it was better to be prepared than to be sorry.
“Unfortunately Capitaine, non.” Hubert replied as he rubbed his sorry looking eyes in tiredness.
“I see.” Josué didn’t really say anything else, as he himself also had trouble sleeping even though he already had experience, so he couldn’t offer any good advice except ‘You’ll get used to it’.
But if a few shells and a few nights without sleep were the price of making sure that Paris was away from German hands, then he’d take it gladly.
The silence with artillery booming sounds in the background finally ended when a soldier came into view, calling for Josué’s attention.
“Capitaine, I have something to show you!” One of the mages came up, looking like he was holding a … something covered in dirt.
Correction, it was a person.
“She came from the trenches with her hands up, and she couldn’t speak French so I thought I would bring her here.”
Josué eyed the child from head to toe and observed her.
It was a child so dirty Josué could barely tell that she was somewhat wearing a German uniform.
Josué looked at her arms for any sign of the armband that signified that she was a mage, but found none whatsoever.
‘She’s just a normal kid? Not a mage?’ Josué found himself confused in light of the girl’s situation.
‘How did an ordinary child manage to get into the Deutsches Heer?’
Well, not like he could judge the Germans for conscripting minors because over the course of the war, he’s met boys as young as 13 holding rifles in the trenches.
But what he couldn’t understand is that why was a woman, moreover a child woman wearing a German uniform.
And there was also the issue of how she got here.
‘How did she get pass the long-range artillery?’ But Josué shoved that aside, thinking that it was somehow sheer luck that she didn’t even have any shrapnel wounds on her from running across a mile.
“Hubert, can you ask her for her name?” Josué asked for Hubert’s expertise, which was translating to ask a few questions.
“Yes sir.” Hubert relayed Josué’s words to the child, who then responded by hugging the duffle bag she held tighter, and then responding with …
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Elina, Elina Wiederlich.”
“Elina huh? So what’s inside her bag?” More than the child herself, upon knowing that she was just an ordinary child, Josué no longer had interest about why there were now ordinary girls in the Deutsches Heer, as the knowledge probably wouldn’t be important anyways, but thereafter he directed his attention towards the bag the girl was carrying, suspicious that there may be enemy intelligence or something inside.
“Well … the men said they didn’t search her because they didn’t think it was appropriate.”
“You should have searched her first you idiot! That’s against protocol!” Josué stressed the fact that they had to follow protocol now more than ever, especially now that the Germans were resorting to more desperate efforts to end the war as quickly as they could.
Just one slip up could result in France’s defeat, but then again it would probably be too much of a stretch to search what could potentially just be a civilian who got too caught up in the war.
“Hubert, can you ask the child to open her bag? I’m sure it’ll probably nothing but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.”
“Oui oui, capitaine.” Hubert said as he once again crouched down to meet the child’s eyes, and then speaking to her in German which he couldn’t understand.
The child looked a bit hesitant at first as her hug once again tightened, but after what seemed like Hubert assuring the child that they were only trying to ensure her safety, then did the child finally loosen up and dropped the bag.
“Ja.”
The child opened the duffel bag, but as the child did so the surrounding mages were suddenly confused.
‘What …?’ It was filled with mud, up to the brim up to the point when it was spilling out of the duffel bag when the child opened it.
Some of the mages even laughed, thinking that what else could a child bring.
“Hahaha of course, what else could a child bring across No Man’s Land, the damned Germans must have stripped her of all her posessions!” one of the mages said.
But all laughter came to an end when the child reached into the mud inside the bag, and then pulled out a long pole-like object covered in mud.
Again, none of them could really tell what the child was holding, because of the wet dirt, but when they heard a metal click, they had already realized it too late.
It was a machine gun.
“Au revoir.”
*bang* *bang* *bang* bang* The child riddled the nearest mage with bullets as he was caught off guard, not even having a chance of putting up his shield, then switching targets to a mage who had his shield spell only halfway done, and then shooting him up while he was unprepared as well.
Josué himself, took too long to react as the child killed another of his comrades, but when he finally did he didn’t even think about the fact that the child had to be a mage to effectively wield such a heavy machine gun and then cocked his rifle to release a normal bullet.
*boom!* Josué fired, but to his surprise the child was a mage, and thus it had bounced off her shield.
‘A shield!?’
He braced himself for his body to be injected with several bullets, but was suddenly surprised when he heard an all too familiar sound.
*click*
The machine gun jammed from the mud.
‘Now’s the chance!’ Josué readied up a penetration shell, but found his thoughts cut short when the child reverse-wielded the machine gun, put magic into her arms, and then hit him in his leg, causing every bone in Josué’s right leg to be shattered completely in an instant.
He couldn’t let out any sensible words, as he dropped his rifle from the sheer pain and dropped down onto the ground.
He could only watch as the artillery men got slaughtered with all the mages becoming dead, or incapacitated from the initial machine gun firing.
Several minutes later, he was on the verge of dying, with his throat sore from all the screaming, and found the child setting up explosives by the artillery.
He was utterly caught off guard, and as a result the French lines have been breached.
‘Merde …’ Josué had expected to maybe find something similar to papers detailing French positions, or maybe even funds for French radicals to stir up more trouble …
But he had never expected that a child would bring out a damn machine gun, and then shoot everybody before they got ready to even resist.
He possessed human naivete, and was thus beaten to the ground as he forgot one of the most essential facts of modern warfare.
‘A bullet from a 10 year-old was just as effective as a bullet from a 20 year-old.’
And in some special cases, like the one he was in now, proved that it was even more effective.
But still, even in his last and dying breaths, he just couldn’t afford to not do anything to the German chi—soldier that was leisurely setting up explosives in the ammo deposits.
‘One last spell …’
“UWOOOOH!!!” Josué shouted with his remaining strength as his finger pulled upon the trigger of his pistol, making it launch a magic shell.
But as he saw that his own magic shells were ineffective against the magic shields of the child in front of him, he decided to shoot at another target.
‘Mourir, le diable!’
The ammunition that was going to be blown up anyways.
“Schei—"
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March 25 1919, Reims, France, The German Front
*BOOOOOOOM*
“What was that!?” Wilhelm dropped his coffee mug onto the floor while he held his chair’s armrests as to brace himself for the intense shaking of the soil that came afterward.
He looked to his bodyguard, Johannes, for what he thought it could have been.
“Your Majesty … I believe it was …” It had also seemed like he was thinking what Wilhelm had been thinking.
“You’re kidding me …” Wilhelm couldn’t believe it.
‘That little piece of … she actually did it!?’ Wilhelm was more confused than overjoyed.
He knew that most of the French resistance were keeping the main force aback through the exploitation of oversupply, mostly in ammunition reserves as the Germans couldn’t fire back 24/7 as the Entente could.
That’s why he was so confused about the possibility that this advantage had gone up in flames.
It seemed like a miracle of God had just came down from the heavens, and gave the Germans a go to finally end the war.
Wilhelm quickly ran towards the very front section of the trenches, where people were swarming, taking their heads to peek out and see a rising smoke cloud from the French position.
“Move goddammit, get out of the way!” Wilhelm shoved his way across the crowd of dirty men to get a crate to stand on.
Wilhelm stuck his head out of the trenches, and was even given binoculars to see the French line with, but unfortunately as the enemy was also in trenches he couldn’t see much change.
But that wasn’t a problem after all, as he could simply send men to check.
After all, if this was real and the French had lost their long range artillery, they would just have to take this chance, no matter the losses.
“Execute the order to charge.” Wilhelm said, but from his men he heard nothing in return.
“Did you not hear me? The French artillery is gone, this is your chance, what are you waiting for!? Charge!” Wilhelm commanded again to the numerous men, but again found no response.
Aside from a slight whisper in the back of the crowd.
‘And then die again in machine gun fire? Easy to say for such a pish-posh royal like you who sits in the back lines.’ Is what he said.
*ka-chik*
“Shut your mouth peasant.” Johannes pointed his pistol at the head of the soldier.
The soldier however, was unfazed, as he went on more to speak even more clearly.
“Go ahead, kill me then, isn’t that what all the royals have been doing since the start of the Great War!?” The soldier voiced out his resentment, gathering the support of the other soldiers who started to complain alongside with him.
“What if it’s actually a ploy by the French?”
“Knowing the French they would probably be able to do something like this.”
“They’re only hiding even more guns!”
Whispers like these were heard, and even chants similar to ‘Screw the Kaiser!’ were heard.
“You—” Johannes grabbed the soldier by the neck and hoisted him up, after then focusing his magic on his arm to snap the fragile neck of the man, but was stopped by Wilhelm himself.
“Stop!” Wilhelm stopped the situation before it got any worse.
He looked at the grim faces of the soldiers waiting for his next command, all of them were filled with resentment and hate, but not to the point where they’d rise up in open mutiny, but to the point where they wouldn’t lay down their lives for him.
He knew that if he were to order a charge and insist that he stay back, the soldiers would instead rise up against him.
But there was a way to counter that.
And that was to add his own life to the betting pool.
Wilhelm was sympathetic, and he was a respectful ruler, but he was also one who knew that you couldn’t win a war without a few losses.
As such he covered up his weakness by sending men out whenever he needed to, sometimes ending up in multiple casulaties.
This in turn resulted in the ire of his own men, and turned out into such a situation that was unacceptable for them to throw down their lives for a man who just wanted to ‘test the waters.’
He could send men to die, but it was of course, different if his own life was thrown into the mix.
Yet that was why it was also a good plan.
Nobody was willing to follow the orders of a cowardly king, but if people saw that the king was actually with them, the people, they would at least think twice about not following him.
People followed leaders, not slave drivers.
‘A good Kaiser uses the lives of the German people as payment for his actions, but a great Kaiser knows when to use his own for the prosperity of the German people.’
But of course, it wasn’t as if it wasn’t a reckless plan.
There was the chance that this was a ploy by the French army to throw the 5th Army off their game, so that they could flip the tables on them when they charged.
The risk that the child was actually a French spy, who was there by coincidence to somehow deter the prince into making such a reckless decision.
And there was also the losses that he had to consider.
If he were to charge in straight ahead with the men he had right now, even if the French lost their artillery, there were still short-range cannons, mage units, and mortar groups that would still provide substantial losses to his own force.
He would be able to take it, but the losses would be nothing to scoff at.
And if it were fake, he would be wiped out in the field as an ordinary man, and the same went for the rest of his army, if they didn’t commit desertion first.
‘But …’
But what if it was real?
What if the girl, somehow by the grace of God, actually managed to sneak her way up to the French artillery nest, made it explode, and managed to completely stop the long range field artillery.
That would have meant that a significant portion of the enemy’s already overstretched resistance capabilities had been cut down, and that this was an opportunity that should be taken.
‘But …’
Wilhelm remembered the maps he studied of that consisted of the lands of France, as well as tried his best to remember the situation of the Western Front.
‘That’s it …’ Wilhelm now realized.
The 5th Army, the army that he was leading, just so happened to be the nearest army at the city of Reims.
Behind the city of Reims was basically a ticket to the city of Paris and that it they had taken that position, the German Empire could potentially gain the foothold that it finally needed to break the hellish stalemate with the Entente that had been going for too long.
There was even a chance, that if they took the railway fast enough and rode the shock of the fast defeat all the way to the city of Reims, they could be able to take the city in just less than a week, sparing all the need for static trench warfare like the situation he was in previously.
Meaning that British supplies, manpower, and support would no longer be able to make it to the French, and that they would significantly less shells, bullets, bombs, and men to fire upon the German Empire.
It was a risk that he had to bet his life on, but one that would provide unimaginable benefits.
So in the face of such a risk, and with his duty as the next Kaiser egging him on, Wilhelm only did what he could do at the time.
Like any good Kaiser would do at the time of battle before him …
*shrrrriiiiiing!*
“FÜR GOTT, FÜR KAISER, FÜR DAS VATERLAND!”
Which was to draw his saber, lead a charge forward, and win for the Vaterland.