Chapter 197: A Strategy That Can't Be Altered
Falkenhayn immediately issued a series of strategic orders to the frontline. He transferred command to Major General Justin, the commander of the Fourth Reserve Army, who led the four divisions and two cavalry regiments defending the Cape Town salient. Justin's familiarity with the region made him the ideal candidate to manage the operation's intricacies.
At that moment, Major General Justin stood at the entrance of his headquarters, his binoculars fixed on an Avro aircraft roaring across the sky. His command post was concealed on a hill five kilometers from the front line, surrounded by trees and hills, with a camouflaged 105mm howitzer battery positioned nearby.
This location wasn't chosen for camaraderie with his soldiers; Justin knew that setting up headquarters in a nearby town would quickly reveal his position to the enemy. Despite the reckless actions of some French industrialists, Justin had seen enough of their brave civilians to avoid unnecessary exposure. He also remembered Charles' proposal for "special operations," which involved deep infiltration missions targeting German command centers. For his own safety, Justin chose to live like a "wild man" in a secure position close to the front.
When he spotted Charles' aircraft above, Justin congratulated himself on the wisdom of his choice. Had he stayed in a house or villa in town, he would've been an easy target for the machine-gun planes overhead.
With the Avros out of sight, a messenger approached Justin to report, "General, orders from the General Staff. They're reinforcing us with four more infantry divisions, additional ammunition, and an artillery regiment."
Justin raised an eyebrow but kept his expression neutral. "So, was there a mistake after all? Is Charles leading the attack?"
"No, General," the messenger clarified, "it's confirmed that Joffre is in command. But the General Staff suspects he might be replicating Charles' tactics from Lafaux."
Justin raised an eyebrow before letting out a dry laugh, his tone dripping with irony. "Interesting. Joffre, copying tactics?"
In truth, Joffre didn't want to use this approach.
Inside a luxurious villa northwest of Cape Town, abandoned by its wealthy owner fleeing the fighting, Joffre had established his headquarters. The command center was bustling as usual—this was, after all, the nerve center of the French forces, where updates from all directions poured in, were processed, and relayed as the next orders.
Joffre sat at his desk, staring blankly at a map, his mind elsewhere as a flickering desk lamp cast a warm yellow glow across the table. Though he'd worked tirelessly to ensure his army operated "systematically," he believed that his orderly approach would inevitably throw his enemies into disarray, bringing victory.
But Charles had upended everything. From the outset of the war, he'd ignored conventional tactics, using different strategies in every engagement:
In the Marne, Charles employed tanks for a frontal breakthrough, exploiting the fear of unfamiliar technology;At Antwerp, he used deception and rocket planes to destroy critical assets like the German "Big Berthas" and zeppelins;At Ypres, he introduced machine-gun planes to dominate the skies and support artillery in defensive maneuvers;At Lafaux, Charles astounded everyone by integrating tanks, infantry, and planes into a cohesive assault, encircling the enemy.
"God, which tactic is the correct one?" Joffre felt at a loss.
His initial impulse was to simply copy Charles' approach. But… he couldn't bring himself to do it.
If the newspapers ran a headline the next day reading, "French Commander Replicates Charles' Strategy for Victory," his reputation would be shattered. Even if he replicated the tactics, there had to be changes—enough so he could say, "No, they may look similar, but they are entirely different strategies!"
Civilians wouldn't understand tactical nuances, and they'd see the differences Joffre intended to emphasize. Yet, as Joffre tried to alter the strategy, he realized, to his growing frustration, that every change compromised the plan's effectiveness.
Omit the air force and sacrifice air superiority? Impossible. German planes would spot his forces gathering on the flanks, eliminating the element of surprise. Besides, the machine-gun planes were necessary to neutralize German artillery. The First Air Squadron was essential.
A frontal assault instead? Out of the question. Although the "Saint-Chamond" and CA-1 had been modified, they still struggled with trench crossings in testing. They'd need sandbags to fill in the trenches—an innovation introduced by Charles.
What if he modified the "two-pronged flank attack" into a single flank assault? Again, this was unfeasible. Attacking from both sides halved the distance each flank had to cover, giving the enemy less time to react and reducing the distance the tanks had to travel—a critical factor since it was nearly impossible for the current tanks to traverse the full length of a single flank assault without breaking a track.
"Dear God!" Joffre lamented, feeling humiliated. "This entire strategy was crafted by a seventeen-year-old, and it's flawless. Every piece interlocks seamlessly, each step indispensable. How did he come up with this?"
Finally, Joffre gave in and decided to copy the plan as it was. Victory would justify his choice, and the press could be managed—with a bit of support from Schneider, no doubt.
But the ripple effects were inevitable. As soon as Joffre relayed the operational plan, the atmosphere at headquarters grew tense. Though his staff kept their thoughts to themselves, their expressions spoke volumes—they seemed to wonder silently: if this tactic worked, why wasn't Charles leading the charge instead?
Vice Commander Carnais sensed the discomfort and broke the silence, "Alright, lads, let's keep our eyes on the prize. Our mission is to encircle the Fourth Reserve Army!"
He added, "And this time, we're surrounding an entire army, not a single regiment like at Lafaux. This is nothing like before!"
The staff responded with scattered murmurs:
"Yes, General!"
"This one will be tougher!"
"It could be the biggest encirclement we've ever attempted."
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