Guided by the system map, Morin led his group through the streets and buildings, while simultaneously gathering dispersed friendly units nearby.
Some were Saxon soldiers from other companies whose platoons had been shattered, their units completely gone, now scrambling around the ruins like headless chickens.
A few others were fighters from the International Brigade and the National Army. They had somehow converged and were temporarily surviving by relying on a broken wall somewhere.
When Morin encountered these scattered troops, many soldiers were so tense they couldn’t recognize friendly forces.
If he hadn’t seen the nearby unit markers beforehand and called out continuously in Saxon and Aragonese, a ‘friendly fire incident’ was highly likely…
When Morin, leading Klaus, Bowman, and this hastily assembled unit, entered the 3rd Platoon’s current defensive sector, several Saxon soldiers suddenly appeared from the adjacent building, raising their rifles at them.
“Password!”
“?”
Morin was momentarily stunned; he didn’t recall setting a password.
“Bavarian White Sausage!” the Platoon Sergeant next to him said tiredly.
“Must not hear the midday church bell! Welcome back!”
The soldiers inside the building also breathed a sigh of relief, lowering their rifles.
But before they could say anything, Klaus waved to the soldier leading the squad inside the building.
“Come, come here for a second…”
Hearing Klaus, the soldier immediately ran out of the building to stand before the two.
“Look again carefully, who is this?”
Only then did the soldier realize that the person next to him, whose face was covered in black soot, was his new Platoon Leader.
However, he couldn’t be blamed. After the street fighting, Morin’s pointed helmet was long gone. His hair was covered in a thick layer of wall dust, and his face was so blackened by smoke and fire that his original appearance was unrecognizable…
The messenger, realizing who he was, immediately stood up straight and saluted.
“Apologies, sir, I didn’t recognize you just now!”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Don’t salute in a combat zone!”
Morin quickly put down the sentry’s raised hand, then continued walking, saying to Klaus: “Having discipline is good, keep it up. Just remember to tell me the password next time, alright?”
“Yes, sir! That was my oversight.”
“Eh, speaking of which, why did you suddenly decide to set a password?”
Morin asked curiously. In his impression, setting passwords was not common in armies of this pre-WWI era.
Even if they did, it was usually only when camping in the field.
“Because we encountered other units earlier who said Kingdom Army soldiers were secretly putting on the uniforms of our deceased soldiers, trying to pass through the defense line…”
“That happened? Were they trying to infiltrate and attack?”
“Not exactly.”
Platoon Sergeant Klaus shook his head, then a complex expression appeared on his face.
“According to several Kingdom Army soldiers who surrendered after being discovered, they would be shot by their own officers if they tried to flee to the rear, so they were trying to use this method to pass through our defense zone and escape from the south of the city…”
“Ah, this is truly…” Morin also shook his head after hearing this.
The two continued chatting like this and soon led their men back to the temporarily secure controlled area.
Morin could finally catch his breath. He felt quite lucky to have survived the street fighting.
Of course, this was also related to the limited personal firepower of the era, and the combat intensity here was not too high.
Had this been a world similar to WWII, he probably would have been dead by now.
He looked at the soldiers around him, covered in gunpowder and blood, their faces etched with fatigue and numbness. His mood became complicated.
Street fighting was indeed a meat grinder, truly living up to its name.
Before the battle started, his 3rd Platoon, after being reinforced and including the attached heavy machine gun team, had over a hundred men.
But now, even counting the scattered troops they had gathered along the way, they were down to just over sixty breathing men.
This was with the advantage of being on the defense and having some guidance from the Street Fighting Theory.
Morin couldn’t imagine how many bodies the attacking Kingdom Army and Britannians had left in this city.
He opened the system map again, his gaze sweeping over the blue markers representing friendly forces.
Based on the troop statistics in the unit markers, he mentally calculated a rough estimate and realized that their current situation was also very unfavorable.
Before the war, the combined forces of the Saxon Expeditionary Force, the International Brigade, and the National Army totaled nearly 20,000 troops.
After the previous offensive and the recent street fighting, the total troop strength represented by all blue markers on the map was now less than 12,000 men.
Even worse, these remaining more than 10,000 men were fragmented into several isolated defensive sectors within the city, unable to support each other and forced to fight independently.
The area where Morin was located was currently the largest and most important core defensive sector in the city. This was because the 16th Brigade’s headquarters was located within the City Hall in this area.
Perhaps the headquarters received a warning and relocated in time, or perhaps the High-Level Tutor Eldridge failed to immediately locate the exact position of the headquarters after destroying the church bell tower…
In any case, the 16th Brigade’s command center appeared to be safe for now.
Morin’s gaze moved to the map’s periphery. The red markers representing the enemy were densely packed, occupying most of the Seville urban area.
He roughly counted at least six battalion-sized unit markers preparing to attack their defensive sector.
On their side, the maximum deployable force was only three battered companies.
The situation of his 1st Battalion, 3rd Company, was particularly dire. The entire 1st Battalion had been broken up, and the battalion headquarters and other companies seemed to be trapped in another area.
So, this sector only had units from the 1st Company. Besides his relatively intact 3rd Platoon, the 1st and 2nd Platoons had been almost wiped out in the previous fighting, with the combined remaining strength of both platoons being less than seventy men.
“Sigh…”
Morin rubbed his throbbing temples, forcing himself to cheer up. This was no time for sighing.
He walked around the defensive sector centered on the City Hall and soon found his company commander, Captain Hauser.
The veteran Captain was sweating heavily, directing the field kitchen and quartermaster personnel to move boxes of ammunition and supplies to the defensive line.
These soldiers now also carried rifles. Although normally non-combat personnel, having received military training, they were also expected to participate in combat during a critical moment.
Seeing Morin return safely with his men, Captain Hauser’s face showed a sincere smile.
Without a word, he strode forward and gave Morin a solid bear hug, so strong that Morin could barely breathe.
“You good lad! I knew you’d make it back!”
Captain Hauser patted Morin’s back forcefully, his voice carrying a mix of relief and sorrow.
“The Platoon Leaders of the 1st and 2nd Platoons were killed in action. The company headquarters also suffered heavy losses.”
Although Morin had expected it, hearing the news firsthand still left him speechless.
He wasn’t close to the two Platoon Leaders, but just a few hours ago, they were in a meeting together, discussing how to defend.
During the attack on San Isidro Village, one of the Platoon Leaders had been the first to support Morin’s tactics.
“Captain Hauser…”
“Don’t you dare try to comfort me, lad. This is war, people die.”
Captain Hauser released him, quickly reverting to his tough-guy demeanor, but Morin could tell he was only hiding his grief.
“Now, the entire 3rd Company is counting on you and me. You’re quick-witted. You have to help me command the upcoming battle, understood?”
“Yes, sir!” Morin immediately stood at attention and saluted.
Captain Hauser waved his hand and led Morin to where the other officers of this defensive sector were gathered.
After a brief introduction, the others learned that the ‘Street Fighting Theory’ issued by the brigade headquarters was proposed by this newly graduated Second Lieutenant.
“Young people’s minds just move faster. It seems some of our experience and theories are becoming outdated.”
“Second Lieutenant Morin, tell us your thoughts. How should we defend this last line of defense?”
The mid- and low-level Saxon officers gathered here were surprisingly easy to talk to.
Or rather, at a time like this, everyone had discarded useless arrogance, thinking only of how to survive.
Everyone quickly immersed themselves in intense tactical discussions.
Ultimately, at Morin’s suggestion, they decided to continue using the tactic that had proven effective—covertly dispersing a portion of their forces into the buildings lining the streets and using interlocking fire to inflict maximum casualties on the enemy.
This task fell to several Saxon units, including Morin’s 3rd Company.
Although the 3rd Company looked undermanned, compared to other heavily battered units, it was considered to have a relatively complete structure…
After finalizing the plan with Captain Hauser, Morin immediately led a National Army unit that was taking over the defense back to his previous sector.
After handing over the position to these more severely damaged units, he regrouped with Captain Hauser, taking the 3rd Platoon and the recovered scattered troops, and began to penetrate forward along the buildings.
When he was close to the designated position, he looked through a building window and saw a familiar figure in a side alley.
It was a ‘Siegfried Type 1’ Armored Knight painted with the black and white Teutonic Cross.
However, it was currently lurking suspiciously in the shadow of the alley, its massive body nearly blocking the entire alleyway.
Based on the tactical designation on its shoulder armor, it was Lieutenant Colonel Ludwig’s machine.
In the previous fighting, the Teutonic Knight Order had attempted to take down one more enemy Armored Knight but failed the surprise attack, ultimately losing one more ‘Siegfried Type 1.’
Now, the only three remaining Armored Knights were all gathered in this core defensive sector, shouldering the final responsibility of protecting the 16th Brigade Headquarters.
But this also meant that once the enemy discovered that three Armored Knights were concentrated in this area, they would certainly guess that this was the location of the 16th Brigade Headquarters, which would only lead to a more ferocious attack…
Just as Morin was wondering whether to take a moment to greet Ludwig and exchange intelligence, there was new movement at the end of the street.
Masses of black-clad Britannian and Kingdom Army soldiers advanced toward them like a human wall. The prelude to what was essentially the final battle had finally begun.
At the same time Morin and the members of the ambush team spotted the enemy, the defending soldiers on the core defense line also saw the enemy advancing toward them.
“Enemy spotted! Fire!”
A 105mm howitzer crew member serving as a temporary artillery commander shouted the command.
The two 77mm field guns and the single remaining 105mm howitzer deployed in front of the City Hall square soon roared deafeningly.
At this range of several hundred meters, the gunners had depressed the muzzles to an almost horizontal angle and pulled the firing lanyards, aiming at the densest cluster of enemy troops at the end of the street.
Three High-Explosive shells, screaming as they flew, instantly crossed the hundreds of meters, plunging into the charging formation of the Britannians.
“Boom! Boom! Boom!”
Violent explosions erupted one after another. Three huge plumes of smoke burst out, blasting the enemy soldiers near the impact points, men and rifles alike, into the air.
The scorching blast wave and flying shrapnel spread outward, instantly clearing a large area. The air was filled with a thick smell of blood and burning.
This sudden artillery barrage momentarily stalled the momentum of the Britannians’ first charge.
“Nice shot!” Morin couldn’t help but cheer softly from behind the second-floor window.
He believed that after a few more rounds like this, no matter how resolute the enemy’s will, or how many fleeing soldiers the commanding officers shot, no infantry would be able to muster the courage to charge into such direct artillery fire down a straight street.
After all, not all infantry could be called a Death Korps…
However, just as the defending gunners opened the breech and prepared to reload, an unexpected change occurred.
Three white steel giants suddenly burst out from the smoke and dust.
It was the Armored Knights of the Guard Knight Order!
The three ‘St. George Type 3’ Armored Knights abandoned their previous arrogant, lone-wolf posture and adopted a compact triangular formation.
They proactively raised their shields engraved with the Guard Knight Order’s emblem, firmly protecting the infantry following behind them, and began charging toward the City Hall square like a moving steel bulwark.
This might be the first time the high-and-mighty Knight Lords had willingly come out to cover the infantry.
“It’s the Armored Knights!” “My God, the Knights are covering us!”
The Britannian soldiers hiding behind the Armored Knights, seeing the tall and sturdy backs shielding them, quickly calmed down from the panic of the recent shelling.
It was well known that these noble Armored Knight Lords had never behaved this way before. Like the High-Level Mages, they typically viewed ordinary infantry as mere expendables…
Soon, the Britannian infantry’s faces regained a fanatical and savage expression. Shouting, “Long live the Guard Knight Order!” they tightly followed behind the Armored Knights, rapidly advancing.
A simple and effective ‘combined arms’ tactic, a ‘tank-infantry coordination’ belonging to this era, had naturally formed just like that.
(End of this Chapter)