What We Had Hoped For

The next day, amid the quiet of early morning, the sound of artillery once again thundered through the sky.

"Incoming artillery!"

His eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night, the commanding officer woke the soldiers resting around him.

The soldiers also heard the shells screaming toward them. They had barely stood up before the fierce bombardment shook them so violently they struggled to keep their footing.

A shell landed squarely on a firing port, and flying fragments of blasted stone instantly pierced the officer's arm.

Blood gushed from the wound. Seeing this, a nearby medic grabbed his medical kit and ran to the officer, heedless of the shells pounding Liège Fortress, and tore off a length of bandage with both hands.

He pressed hard against the officer's wound, trying to stop the blood that kept flowing.

"Sir, it's pierced a major artery."

"We have to treat it immediately!"

As he spoke, the medic took a cord from his kit and tied it tightly above the wound, then wound the bandage around the injury again and again before he finally managed to stem the bleeding.

By now, the officer's face had grown somewhat pale, but he still made an effort to grasp the medic's hand. "I'm all right. Hurry and check on the other wounded."

The medic examined the bandaged arm, nodded firmly, then picked up his medical kit and ran toward another wounded soldier.

Only after the medic was some distance away did the officer feel around with his uninjured arm and slowly pull himself up from the ground.

"Sir, I'll take command here. Please go to the command post and rest up."

The staff officer emerged from a nearby room just then, shock flashing across his face at the sight of his commander.

"No, I can't leave. At least, not now."

"I'm the highest-ranking commander at Liège Fortress now. I have to let the soldiers see me, see that I'm still fighting shoulder to shoulder with them."

The officer paused to recover, then waved a hand at the staff officer.

Seeing this, the staff officer offered no further persuasion. He simply walked silently to his commander's side and supported him with half his own body.

Once the officer recovered from the pain, he looked at the staff officer. "How many defenders does Liège Fortress have left?"

"Reporting, sir. There are still six thousand seven hundred and twelve men fit to fight in the Liège Fortress garrison."

"Eight hundred soldiers were killed yesterday, and over a thousand were wounded."

A bitter look crossed the officer's face at the report.

"More than a quarter lost in just one day..."

His trembling hand slowly closed around the Iron Cross at his collar. The officer shut his eyes. "Your Majesty, please grant us strength. For you, even if only one of us remains, we will stand firm and hold Liège Fortress."

While the officer prayed, the artillery fire outside continued, and the Belgian troops had already led the advance.

Facing the attacking enemy, the German machine guns roared again.

Inside the command post of the Anglo-French Allied Forces, General Herbert watched Liège Fortress in the distance as artillery fire engulfed it once more.

"Have our soldiers prepare to attack. Keep up the covering bombardment."

"We've already disappointed the king and the prime minister once. Today, we must take Liège Fortress."

"Yes, Commander!"

Upon receiving General Herbert's orders, his subordinate officer immediately turned and headed outside.

Before long, as messengers hurried in all directions, the soldiers of the Anglo-French Allied Forces learned that today it was their turn to attack.

With the order issued, the Anglo-French Allied Forces launched a ferocious assault on Liège Fortress.

But by evening, as the Allied soldiers were beaten back yet again, the second day's offensive also ended in failure.

The third day.

The fourth day.

Time trickled by, and Herbert's expression grew increasingly grim.

"Why is their will to fight so strong?"

"For four days, we've been bombarding them nonstop. We've used over three hundred thousand shells alone."

"Why can't we break those German soldiers' will to fight? What on earth is keeping them going?"

Thirty divisions against eight thousand German soldiers, supported by heavy artillery and bombers in numbers far exceeding the Germans'.

They had fought for four full days without taking the fortress. Over the past two days, notes calling for his removal had already made their way from Buckingham Palace to him!

Even the newspapers back in Britain were calling him the most incompetent general.

At the thought, General Herbert angrily hurled his binoculars to the ground.

All the officers around him kept their heads lowered, not daring to look up at the furious general.

After a while, General Herbert quelled his anger, and a cold, hard voice emerged from his mouth. "Send the entire army forward. We must take Liège Fortress today."

Inside Liège Fortress, the commanding officer pulled off his bloodstained bandage.

"Sir, we're running short of ammunition."

A soldier with a bandage wrapped around his head ran up to the officer to report.

The officer glanced at the soldier, then at the machine gun in his hands, which had no ammunition left at all.

"How many soldiers can still fight?"

Neither joy nor anger could be heard in the officer's voice. At his question, the soldier's lips trembled twice.

"Reporting, sir. Fewer than a thousand men can still fight, and most are wounded."

"How long will our remaining ammunition last?"

"Less than two hours."

At the soldier's answer, the officer gave a feeble smile and took a pack of cigarettes, already soaked through with blood, from inside his coat.

It was the last thing the staff officer had handed him before dying in a bombardment yesterday.

He had never smoked, but for some unknown reason, as he looked at the pack now, he found himself drawing out a cigarette stained with dried blood.

Seeing the officer shakily place the cigarette in his mouth, the soldier hurriedly took a box of matches from his clothes.

With trembling fingers, he took out the last match and looked at it.

The officer smiled.

"How much explosive do we still have here?"

"Reporting, sir. There are still eight hundred kilograms of TNT in the underground storeroom."

"Save it."

"Use that last flame to light those explosives."

At the officer's words, the soldier's eyes widened as he stared at him.

"Sir..."

"Do as I say. Once the enemy breaks into Liège Fortress, ignite the explosives."

"We can't let the enemy take Liège Fortress just like that. This is the last thing I can do."

The officer grasped the soldier's hand, his eyes solemn and earnest, but before he could finish giving his instructions, the sound of artillery tore across the sky.

"Prepare for battle!"

The instant he heard the artillery, the officer tackled the soldier to the ground, shouting at the top of his lungs.

At his shout, the exhausted German soldiers once again gripped their machine guns, every face bearing the resolve to meet death as though returning home.

Boom, boom, boom!

The deafening thunder of artillery sounded again, but this time, something about it seemed wrong.

Somewhat bewildered, the officer rose from the ground and looked out through the breach.

He saw the charging Allied soldiers being flung into the air by salvo after salvo.

Looking up, he saw dense volleys of shells screaming overhead.

"Move, move, move! Our comrades at Liège Fortress are waiting for us!"

Amid a clatter of footsteps, squads of neatly uniformed German soldiers swiftly took up position at one firing point after another and set up the machine guns they had brought. The crisp clicks of weapons being cocked left the officer somewhat dazed.

Following behind the soldiers, Model walked up to the officer, crouched down, and took a kerosene lighter from inside his coat.

The lighter clicked crisply, and its flame lit the cigarette between the officer's lips.

White smoke curled up from the cigarette's tip. Model solemnly patted the officer's shoulder and stood.

"All soldiers, prepare for battle!"