Trenches, Guns, and Magic

Morin stood at the edge of the pass. The mountain wind funneled through the gap, making the hem of his officer's overcoat flap loudly.

One problem with mountain warfare is that temperature changes in the mountains are practically unpredictable. Furthermore, even if the temperature is stable, a strong gust of wind can rapidly drop the apparent temperature.

This was also why, although the temperature in the mountains wasn't particularly low when they set out today, the soldiers participating in the attack still wore their overcoats.

For some unknown reason, the faces of Klaus and those thirty instruction unit veterans suddenly flashed through Morin's mind for a brief moment.

He currently knew nothing about the situation at the medical center in the rear, or whether those soldiers who received the modification serum could survive the ordeal.

This made him feel somewhat heavy-hearted, but he truly couldn't be in two places at once right now.

Breaking through the Predeal Pass was only the beginning of the entire Romanian campaign.

Although according to the Austro-Hungarian mountain troops, these Kingdom of Romania home defense forces in the mountains were already considered battle-hardened veterans, and continuing the fight inland might not necessarily mean encountering enemies of such high caliber...

Morin still felt it wouldn't be that simple. After all, since his transmigration, none of the battles he had experienced had been particularly easy, and things always seemed to go wrong, as if he carried some sort of "curse."

"Could this be the side effect of having Charisma stats that are too high and using hacks?"

Morin reined in these chaotic thoughts and turned toward a concealed semi-buried bunker at the pass.

This was originally a Romanian machine gun position, now temporarily requisitioned by the Kampfgruppe as the forward command post.

He didn't squeeze straight into the bunker, but crouched outside, leaning half his body in.

"Kleist," Morin patted the sandbag in front of him.

Inside the bunker, Kleist, who was busy writing and drawing on a map with several staff officers, immediately looked up and walked briskly over.

"Commander, you called for me."

"Has the telegram to His Highness the Crown Prince been sent?" Morin asked casually.

"Sent. Transmission completed ten minutes ago. It detailed the battle situation at the pass and the Kampfgruppe's subsequent operational plans."

"Alright. The moment there's a reply from the Army Group headquarters... especially regarding information on follow-up reinforcing troops, bring it to me immediately," Morin instructed.

"Understood!"

After giving a few more instructions, Morin stood up, patted the dirt off his knees, and walked toward the flattest area of the pass.

It was quite lively over there right now.

Ludwig was standing on the recovery device with the three Siegfried Mark I Armored Knights, while a large group of technicians and engineers buzzed around them like busy worker ants.

These three iron lumps had made major contributions in the assault just now, but getting them away had become a huge problem.

Make them walk down the mountain on their own two legs? Knights ultimately weren't more highly passable quadrupedal mechs...

Setting aside mechanical wear and tear, on these steep mountain paths, if they slipped and rolled down, they truly wouldn't even be able to recover the scrap metal.

So the final plan was still to rely on the L15 armored airship in the sky to hoist them back up.

"Look sharp! Secure the steel cables tightly! These Armored Knights are extremely precious! Absolutely no slip-ups!"

A head technician who had fast-roped down from the L15 was shouting loudly nearby, his voice cracking from the strain.

Morin strolled over. Watching the head technician direct the engineers to secure the hooks, he couldn't help but shake his head and sigh once again:

"Are Armored Knights truly such inconvenient things?"

Unlike the previous loading on the flat ground at the bottom of the mountain, the L15 armored airship was genuinely hovering in mid-air right now.

Morin looked up. The L15 armored airship seemed like it was about to crash right onto his head, obscuring more than half the sky.

Let alone the people up there, even the engineers below helping to attach the steel cables all had tight faces, not daring to breathe too loudly.

At this moment, inside the bridge of the L15 armored airship, the tension was at its absolute peak.

The helmsman, looking tense, was steering the rudder and constantly adjusting the engine telegraph, while simultaneously communicating with several key compartments through the brass voice tubes.

To stably hover a massive airship over 300 meters long directly above a mountain pass barely longer than the ship itself, while constantly fighting the erratic crosswinds in the valley...

He had never done such a thrilling job in his entire life.

Sweat rolled down the helmsman's forehead and into his eyes, but he didn't even dare blink.

"Don't be nervous. Just pilot the ship normally."

Captain Andreas stood behind the helmsman, his voice sounding very steady.

"Trust yourself, and trust everyone on this airship."

Despite saying that, Andreas's fingers gripping the handrail beside him revealed that he was equally very tense inside.

While comforting the helmsman, the Air Force lieutenant colonel also turned his head and shot a fierce glare at the executive officer beside him.

The executive officer shrank his neck under the glare, pretending to look down at the instrument panel next to him.

The meaning in Andreas's eyes couldn't be clearer: "Is this what you guaranteed me earlier, that Colonel Morin uses troops very steadily and absolutely wouldn't take risks?"

"Altitude decreasing, preparing to cross the fifty-meter red line!" reported the observer from the observation post beneath the airship.

Andreas withdrew his gaze, stood before the panoramic viewing window at the very front of the bridge, and stared intently at the operational area below.

To allow the technicians below to accurately attach the securing devices, the airship had to push its altitude below fifty meters.

At this altitude, any slightly stronger crosswind could cause the airship to crash directly into the nearby mountain walls.

Time ticked by, minute by minute.

On the mountain ground below, the technicians deftly hooked the thick steel cables onto the lifting rings of the recovery device.

"Secured! Ready to hoist!" A technician vigorously waved two red flags and made an upward punching motion.

Upon receiving the signal, the control personnel in the cargo bay immediately pulled down the winch levers.

Accompanied by a dull mechanical roar, the three Armored Knights slowly lifted off the ground.

A few daring technicians directly climbed up the mechanical arms of the Armored Knights, firmly hooking their safety harnesses to the main steel cables. They had to ascend with these iron lumps, ready to check if the securing devices loosened at any moment.

Watching this from below, Morin couldn't help but sweat for them.

Fortunately, the entire process was thrilling but safe.

When the three Armored Knights completely disappeared into the cargo bay at the bottom of the airship and the massive armored hatches closed again, an irrepressible cheer and applause erupted in the bridge.

Andreas let out a long breath, took off his peaked cap, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, and ordered loudly:

"Immediately record all details and parameters of this loading operation! This is all valuable experience that will be useful in the future."

After giving these instructions, Andreas put his cap back on and walked to the window.

After coordinating with Morin for less than a day, this Imperial Air Force lieutenant colonel's mindset had undergone a complete transformation.

He suddenly remembered the words Colonel Schneider had spoken when seeing him off before departure.

"This man, Colonel Morin, possesses an advanced understanding of aerial power... Regarding air-ground combat coordination, you'll find his ideas are far more radical than those of the folks at the Army General Staff."

"You must be prepared. He might ask you and your airship to do things you've never even considered before."

At the time, Andreas thought Schneider was exaggerating somewhat, but now he believed it.

Colonel Morin's understanding was not only advanced, but his style of doing things could no longer be described with the simple word "radical."

But Andreas also had to admit that this radicalness brought returns, especially for a unit tasked with tactical verification like the L15 "Lilienthal" class armored transport assault airship.

Just the preliminary preparation, execution process... and conclusion of the battle that just ended had already accumulated a massive amount of experience and lessons.

Just like the battle that just concluded, if they hadn't used the L15 armored airship to airdrop the Armored Knights and Morin, even if the pass was ultimately taken, it would only be a matter of time, but the casualties paid would not be as light as they were now.

"But regardless, for the supreme commander of a Kampfgruppe to personally lead a jump, that's still a bit too much..." Andreas muttered softly.

Just then, the "buzzing" engine noise suddenly grew closer from afar outside the window.

Hearing the sound, Andreas and many others on the bridge turned their heads to look out the window.

They saw two nimble-looking "Taube" reconnaissance aircraft sweeping past the left side of the L15 armored airship.

These two reconnaissance aircraft, looking like two large birds, dipped their noses immediately after crossing the Predeal Pass, diving straight into the depths of the valley towards the Kingdom of Romania.

"Ah..."

Andreas watched the two reconnaissance aircraft rapidly shrink into black dots, his expression complex to the extreme.

"Another radical tactic appears. I hope those two pilots don't have too bad luck."

Andreas sighed and issued an order:

"Helmsman, pull up altitude... Communications officer, notify the temporary base down the mountain that the airship is returning to the temporary maintenance platform. Have them prepare for cargo unloading. We're packing up and leaving!"

South side of the Predeal Pass.

In the mountain woodland, the foliage was lush.

Rommel bent slightly, gripping the front end of his MP14 submachine gun, stepping on the humus of the mountain woodland.

Following beside him was a squad from the 3rd Platoon, 1st Company, 2nd Battalion of the instruction unit.

Just like in previous battles, Rommel was still leading the point squad, walking very cautiously through this complex woodland terrain, acting as the vanguard for the entire company.

During the march, besides scouting the situation ahead, he would also constantly look back to confirm the distance of the others.

About twenty meters behind him, Executive Officer Lieutenant Schulz was leading the messengers and communications squad, closely following as the "company headquarters."

Further back, about twenty-five meters away, the main body of the 1st Company maintained a two-column formation, advancing silently.

As the vanguard company of the instruction unit's 2nd Battalion, they were responsible not only for pathfinding but also for ensuring smooth communications.

This also placed high demands on the wire spools carried by the communications squad. The communications squad of the company headquarters carried a total of 4 twenty-pound spools, each capable of laying about 500 meters of telephone cable.

This meant that as long as the 1st Company stayed within 2 kilometers, they could essentially guarantee real-time communication with the battalion headquarters.

An hour ago, after the main force completely controlled the pass, 2nd Battalion Commander Jonathan led a few detachment commanders under him, including Rommel, on a forward reconnaissance mission.

And they finally determined that the nearest Romanian position after crossing the Predeal Pass was about 1.8 kilometers away.

According to the operational plan formulated by the Kampfgruppe command last night, the various units didn't have much time to rest after capturing the pass. After regrouping, they had to continue pushing forward a certain distance to prevent the enemy from potentially counterattacking the pass.

Rommel looked back at his executive officer.

Lieutenant Schulz immediately understood, raising his right hand and making a "3" gesture.

This indicated that two of the spools carried by the communications squad had already been used up, and they were currently laying the cable for the third spool. This also meant their advance distance through the mountains had already exceeded 1 kilometer.

Rommel nodded, waving forward to signal the continued advance. As they went further, the trees also began to thin out.

Ten minutes later, the woodland came to an end, and the view ahead suddenly opened up.

The terrain below the Predeal Pass was completely exposed before their eyes.

This was a massive V-shaped valley, and Rommel and the soldiers of the 1st Company were currently halfway up one side of the "V."

Rommel raised his left hand, forming a fist.

The point squad beside him and the company headquarters behind immediately stopped and took cover on the spot. The order was passed backward layer by layer through hand signals, and the entire marching column of the 1st Company quickly quieted down.

Rommel walked behind a thick oak tree at the edge of the woodland and raised his binoculars.

On a higher slope ahead, the position constructed by the Romanians was already visible. From time to time, the heads of some incautious soldiers could be seen flashing past. Rommel also noticed several suspected machine gun bunkers built with sandbags.

Lieutenant Schulz hunched over and moved close, crouching beside Rommel, who then handed him the binoculars.

"An hour and a half ago, when the battalion commander and I came here to look, the position was very quiet. It didn't seem to have this many people," Rommel said in a low voice.

Schulz took the binoculars and observed carefully for a while.

"Probably because the fighting at the pass was too loud, it alarmed them, so they temporarily diverted personnel here for defense."

The company executive officer lowered the binoculars and pointed ahead.

"Company Commander, look at that open ground ahead..."

Rommel followed the direction he pointed.

From the edge of the woodland to the Romanians' position, the distance was about three to four hundred meters.

This entire stretch was a large, steep slope without a shred of cover.

"These last few hundred meters will be hard to fight." Schulz frowned. "Charging out means being live targets. The enemy's machine guns can seal off the slope."

Hearing this, Rommel's expression didn't change much. Instead, he said quite calmly: "So we won't charge head-on this time."

Schulz was stunned: "Are we really going to use that untested tactic? Are you sure it wasn't just a spontaneous idea Colonel Morin came up with?"

"Who knows without trying? I actually think the Colonel is very forward-looking~"

As Rommel spoke, he raised his wrist to check his watch.

"The Kampfgruppe's aircraft should be arriving soon, right?"

Just as he finished speaking, the piercing drone of engines came from the sky above.

Both looked up simultaneously.

Soon, two "Taube" reconnaissance aircraft roared past above the valley. The black crosses of the Saxon Empire could be faintly seen on their wings.

"You see, speak of the devil..." Rommel patted Schulz's shoulder. "Pass the order: mortar squads and guidance squads move up and prepare."

Schulz immediately waved backward and made a brief combination of hand signals.

As the order was continuously passed back, the two light mortar squads attached to the 1st Company from the marching column quickly ran forward.

They found a flat spot at the edge of the woodland and set up the mortar tubes in a few moves.

The gunners expertly adjusted the firing angles. The loaders held the shells in their arms, ready to feed them into the breeches at any moment.

"Target: enemy position ahead."

"High explosive shell, load one!"

The loaders immediately inserted the shells from the rear of the light mortars, followed closely by the gunners forcefully pulling the firing lanyards (the earliest mortars were not muzzle-loaded).

"Thump! Thump!"

Two crisp mortar reports.

A few seconds later, two balls of fire exploded in front of the Romanians' position. Mountain dirt flew up, and simultaneously completely activated the enemies on these positions.

"Calibrate firing data, rapid fire!"

The mortar squads moved with lightning speed, firing shells one after another. As the high explosive shells began falling into the position, the Romanians instantly fell into chaos.

The two companies stationed here completely didn't expect the enemy's attack to come so quickly. After all, according to past combat experience, even if the pass was taken by the Austro-Hungarian mountain troops, the other side would rest and reorganize, not immediately launch the next phase of the attack.

Officers on the position shouted loudly, organizing counterattacks. But for a moment, no one discovered the location of the attack. Several heavy machine guns could only fire blindly toward the woodland halfway up the mountain, sending wood chips flying as bullets hit the tree trunks.

The two mortars also began aiming at these firing machine gun positions to suppress them. Coupled with suppression from a group of marksmen equipped with M1915 semi-automatic rifles who had pushed to the edge of the woodland, several Romanian machine gun squads and surrounding infantry were completely pinned in the trenches, unable to raise their heads.

"Guidance squads, go!"

Seeing the time was right, Rommel also issued the order.

Several agile assault infantrymen darted out of the woodland. Completely ignoring the bullets flying randomly overhead, they didn't charge toward the Romanians' position, but sprinted down the slope.

These soldiers' everyday 400-meter obstacle course and armed cross-country running scores ranked in the top tier of the entire instruction unit, right below Morin and the 1st Company veterans. So the speed they burst out with right now was extremely fast. Under the cover of artillery fire, they dashed out over three hundred meters in one breath.

At the bottom of the slope, fifty meters away from the Romanians' position, there was a massive protruding rock.

The assault team soldiers executed a sliding tackle, securely taking cover behind the rock.

The squad leader in charge, after confirming the position was safe, drew a break-action flare gun, quickly loaded it, and pointed the muzzle skyward.

"Bang!"

A red signal flare, trailing a long plume of smoke, rose into mid-air.

Above the valley, Manfred, piloting his reconnaissance aircraft, completed a turn and began circling over the valley.

He had been keeping an eye on the movement below. When that red signal flare rose, he naturally noticed it immediately.

"Found it."

Manfred turned his head, making a thumbs-down gesture to his comrade in the wingman aircraft not far to his right.

After confirming the other party received his signal and indicated understanding, Manfred gently pulled the stick, lowering the nose of the reconnaissance aircraft slightly.

The fierce wind rushed in through the open canopy, slapping against Manfred's leather flight cap, making loud snapping sounds.

He pulled his goggles tight. Looking past the windshield in front of the nose, the outline of the Romanians' position below magnified rapidly in his field of vision.

This was an unprecedented tactic.

Before this, the role of aircraft on the battlefield was limited to scouting enemy movements, or pilots shooting at each other in the sky with pistols. Self-defense machine guns were a new weapon just modified onto aircraft.

Who knew that Colonel Morin, upon learning that the "Taube" reconnaissance aircraft was converted to a single-seater in order to mount two heavy machine guns on the nose, immediately proposed the tactical concept of having reconnaissance aircraft attempt ground strafing.

And he called this tactic "Close Air Support"...

The altitude continued to drop. Manfred reached for the firing trigger added in front of the control stick.

Four hundred meters.

Three hundred meters.

The Romanians' position was in complete chaos.

Those soldiers, originally dizzied by the mortar bombardment, heard the piercing shrieks from above and looked up one after another.

Pointing at the rapidly approaching "big bird" in the sky, they opened their mouths wide, yelling and screaming in panic.

A few braver Romanian officers drew their sidearms, firing wildly into the sky.

Two machine gunners also desperately tried to raise the muzzles of their heavy Maxim machine guns, but the sandbag bunkers limited their firing angles, and the muzzles simply couldn't be raised into the air.

Two hundred meters.

Manfred held his breath and squeezed the trigger hard.

The two G08 heavy machine guns mounted in front of the nose roared instantly.

The muzzles spat half-meter-long tongues of fire. The massive recoil even caused the overly lightweight "Taube" reconnaissance aircraft to shudder violently in the air.

Empty casings cascaded from the ejection ports like a waterfall, scattering everywhere in the air. Two lines of fire tore through the air, diving straight for the ground.

However, performing this kind of ground strafing for the first time, there was absolutely no empirical data for reference.

Manfred completely misjudged the aircraft's dive speed and the influence of the valley crosswinds.

The bullets didn't land in the trenches.

The two lines of fire grazed the edge of the trenches, all hitting the ground outside. The dirt was flipped up in rows by the large-caliber bullets, plowing two long trails of dust in front of the position.

A few Romanian soldiers lying at the edge of the trench were hit on their helmets by flying scree, scaring them into tumbling and crawling to the bottom of the pit.

With one strafing run empty, Manfred quickly released the button and pulled hard on the control stick.

The reconnaissance aircraft roared past just above the Romanians' heads, pulling back up to a safe altitude.

Edge of the woodland halfway up the mountain.

Lieutenant Schulz watched the entire process through his binoculars and couldn't help but curl his lip.

"Company Commander, this reconnaissance aircraft's ground attack makes a lot of noise, but the accuracy is too absurd. It looks like it all hit empty ground."

"What's the rush?"

Rommel's tone was rather calm right now, and his eyes clearly revealed an interest in this method of attack.

"Who hits the bullseye the first time they touch a gun?"

Rommel raised his binoculars, adjusted the focus, and continued observing the enemy's movements.

"Look closely at the Romanians' position. Although they missed, the position is clearly in chaos. The firepower is much less than just now."

As he spoke, Rommel tucked the binoculars back into the leather case at his waist, then casually picked up the MP14 submachine gun resting on the ground.

"I believe the pilot up there will quickly figure out a method. Wait for him to attack two more rounds, and we'll take advantage of the chaos and sneak right up."

"When the main force pushes to the bottom of the opposing position, remember to fire another signal flare to signal them to be careful not to hit friendly forces!"