Stormtrooper Assault Tactics

Thick, pitch-black clouds quietly shrouded the night sky, and the damp evening wind struck the faces of the Stormtroopers crawling forward.

Under cover of the deep darkness, they had crossed the Meuse River Line. The officer leading them suddenly raised a hand, and at his command, the Stormtroopers behind him immediately stopped moving.

The officer picked up a pinch of soil from the ground and tasted it.

"It's going to rain..."

At the German artillery positions in the rear, Eitel stood before the rows of guns, watching the artillerymen busily stack crates of shells behind them.

General Max von Gallwitz stood beside Eitel, introducing the weapons and shells they would be using.

"Your Imperial Majesty, we currently have over twelve hundred guns along the front, including more than six hundred heavy guns of 150 mm caliber or larger."

"When the scheduled attack time arrives, we will unleash nearly five thousand gas shells and over ten thousand high-explosive shells."

"We will ensure coordination with the Stormtroopers to inflict maximum casualties."

Listening to Max's report, Eitel nodded. His gaze swept over the opened crates of shells, and a trace of reluctance appeared in his eyes before they quickly hardened with resolve.

"How long until the scheduled attack?"

Eitel addressed the officers gathered around him. Konstantin took out a pocket watch and checked the time. "Half an hour, Your Majesty."

"Good. Make your preparations. The Stormtroopers have reached their designated positions."

"Victory will be ours!"

As Eitel finished speaking, all the officers around him saluted in unison.

"Victory!"

Time ticked by, and a light drizzle gradually began to fall, rainwater sliding off the rims of the Stormtroopers' steel helmets.

The officer raised his hand and gestured for them to put on their masks. The troopers deftly removed the gas masks from their waists and donned them.

Just then, the guns at the distant German artillery positions abruptly spat fire. Shells wreathed in flame were hurled onto the American positions, where clouds of yellow-green poison gas instantly burst open.

As the poison gas spread, high-explosive shells also descended from above, slamming into the American positions and erupting in one violent burst of flame after another.

One high-explosive shell landed squarely on a tall observation tower. With the explosion, several figures plunged from above, trailing flames, their screams reaching the officer's ears from over a thousand meters away.

"Attack!"

Watching the distant American positions descend into chaos, the officer gave the order to attack.

The Stormtroopers could hardly contain themselves. The instant they heard the command, they charged toward the American positions ahead like cheetahs pursuing prey.

Their long rain capes streamed behind them, like messengers from hell.

At the artillery positions, Eitel watched the advancing Stormtroopers through his binoculars and nodded in satisfaction.

Just then, Konstantin approached Eitel from behind, carrying a thick, bundled rain cape.

"Your Majesty, it's raining. The weather is turning cold; put on another layer."

As he spoke, Konstantin draped the rain cape over Eitel's shoulders.

Eitel drew the cape tighter around himself, then turned and nodded to Max. Max returned the gesture in understanding before turning to the artillerymen.

"Flares, prepare to fire!"

"Three... two."

"One!"

"Fire!"

Bang, bang, bang!

A succession of flares shot into the sky, lighting up the dark battlefield. At the same time, the French artillery positions on the Allied side also fired flares.

The flares from both sides rose together, illuminating the entire battlefield.

Jolted awake by the bombardment, the French commanders Gouraud and Berthelot emerged from the command post together. Raising their binoculars, they watched flames erupting across the distant American positions and the constant flashes from the German artillery positions.

A sense of foreboding rose in their hearts.

They exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with grave concern.

"It's the Germans' stormtrooper assault tactics."

The Germans had used these tactics in the famous Battle of Verdun, and the French, unfamiliar with them, had suffered devastating casualties.

Scenes from the past surfaced in their minds. Only now did they realize that the shadow the Germans had carved into their hearts had never faded.

"Commanders, shouldn't we help the Americans?"

The chief of staff beside them cautiously offered the suggestion, but Gouraud and Berthelot both rejected it.

"We have already suffered tremendous casualties in this war."

"They are already preparing to negotiate with Germany back home."

"Our task now is to hold the line and prevent our casualties from mounting any further."

The commander's words left the chief of staff silent for a long time. Although they knew supporting the American positions was the best choice at this moment, doing so would also subject their men to enormous casualties.

They no longer wanted to shed blood in a war whose outcome was already decided.

With the commander's orders issued, the French positions fell silent after firing their tracer rounds.

On the front line, American soldiers were pouring out of the various air-raid shelters. The five thousand gas shells had blanketed most of their positions in clouds of poison gas.

American soldiers who had been sleeping soundly were overwhelmed by a suffocating sensation, clutching their throats and struggling to breathe in the bunkers and air-raid shelters.

But the more they breathed, the stronger the discomfort inside their bodies became, and rifles slipped from their trembling hands.

Some soldiers tried to reach for their gas masks, but it was already too late.

Some soldiers who had grabbed their gas masks and rushed out to their positions stared in bewilderment at the American lines, already in complete chaos.

"Didn't we come here to make a name for ourselves?"

"Why?"

"Why is it so cruel?"

Flares rose into the sky. The dazzling light made him squint involuntarily before he opened his eyes again.

Stormtroopers wearing German steel helmets and rain capes had already stormed the positions. They raised their carbines and poured bullets into his comrades, who were screaming in the trenches.

Just then, a Stormtrooper turned around, his bloodstained gas mask facing him directly.

An intense killing intent locked firmly onto him.

Watching the man raise his gun and aim at him, the American soldier froze.

"A devil..."

Bang!

After the gunshot, the American soldier collapsed into the trench amid blood and muddy water. Even in the final instant before his death, he had no idea where these men had come from.

They were just like.

Devils from hell.

Boom!

Thunder cracked, and the rain grew heavier.

The torrential rain washed away the traces of slaughter, washing through the lingering gunsmoke and poison gas.

Gunfire still rang out fiercely. Each shot marked the passing of a life.

The bombardment had long since stopped. Watching the Stormtroopers who had entered the distant American positions, Eitel tightened his grip slightly on his binoculars.