Charles didn't respond to Tijani's question, though he was increasingly certain that his suspicion was correct.

"But," Tijani hesitated, half-convinced, "what could possibly enable the enemy to break through our defenses in two days? I mean, if they can't do it now, why would they be able to then?"

The French defensive line should, by all logic, only get stronger. The first day had been rushed, focused on seizing land and hastily setting up. Supplies, ammunition, and even fresh water had been in short supply. By nightfall, however, the fleet was continuously delivering those necessities. Currently, supplies were already flowing in from the western end of the line.

With naval firepower now supporting them as well, how could the enemy be so certain they could break through in two days?

Charles replied quietly, "Think about it, General. What might change about the enemy now and the enemy in two days?"

Tijani went silent for a moment, then shook his head, baffled. He couldn't figure out what would be different. After a pause, he ventured, "Could it be the Germans? Would German reinforcements arrive here?"

"No, General," Charles shook his head. "Even if the Germans came, that wouldn't necessarily make them any more formidable than the Ottomans."

This was true. The Ottoman soldiers had proven courageous in this battle. Even if German troops were better trained or equipped, they wouldn't necessarily have the Ottomans' resolve to defend their homeland at any cost.

"Then what is it?" Tijani looked more puzzled than ever.

"Grenades," Charles answered, revealing the source of his worry, "and mortars. If the Ottomans get their hands on those…"

Tijani's eyes widened as he absorbed the implication, his expression growing serious. The French had successfully repelled the Ottoman forces time and time again largely because they had the advantage of mortars and grenades.

But if the Ottomans acquired grenades and mortars, they could use them to suppress the French machine guns in the trenches and advance beyond the 50-meter line. Instead of being held back, they could launch grenades into the French defenses at close range.

The color drained from Tijani's face as he considered the possibility. This could be a fatal blow to French defenses—a difference between holding the line and losing it entirely.

Tijani turned to Charles with a look of desperation. "Is there any way to counter this, Colonel? After all, these are your inventions."

Charles managed a dry smile. Just because he'd invented something didn't mean he could easily counter it. If anything, countering grenades required more grenades, and countering mortars required mortars. He had to admit, "Our only option is to force the enemy to surrender within two days."

"But how can we make that happen?" Tijani asked, sounding dejected. "We can't just stand on the line with a loudspeaker and shout, 'You've been tricked—there's no supply line over the sea, surrender now!'"

Of course, that wouldn't work. While it was the truth, the enemy would dismiss it as a desperate lie intended to demoralize them.

Charles didn't answer. He, too, was at a loss. This turn of events had caught him off guard.

Charles realized he'd underestimated the enemy commander, who had made clever choices: sending Bahar to A Point to raise morale, understanding the limited space in Charles's defensive line, and foreseeing the use of grenades and mortars to breach the defenses.

This commander would likely use the next two days to amass soldiers, cannons, and shells, preparing for a thunderous assault on Charles's defenses.

Just then, cheers sounded outside the bunker. Adrian entered, excited, to report, "General, Colonel, our reinforcements have arrived."

Tijani responded with a noncommittal grunt. Where he had once eagerly anticipated reinforcements, the "two-day deadline" had tempered his excitement.

Several shadowy figures entered, their faces obscured by the dim light. The leader, wearing a broad-brimmed hat and sidearm, was an officer—a colonel, judging by his rank insignia.

"General Tijani?" The officer, speaking fluent English, introduced himself. "I'm Colonel Richard of the Australian 5th Light Horse Regiment. It's an honor to meet you!"

Charles looked to Tijani, who, though visibly disinterested, stepped forward to shake Richard's hand. "Welcome, Colonel Richard."

Though Tijani exchanged the formalities, he thought grimly, They probably have no idea they're walking into a deathtrap.

"General," Colonel Richard saluted Tijani, clearly embarrassed at his earlier mistake. "What are our orders?"

He seemed eager for battle, an enthusiasm that left Charles puzzled as he studied the colonel.

These Australians—did they not realize they were colonial forces? Did they not know this war had little to do with them? That they were being used?

This wasn't about sheep farming or wool trades. This was war, and it would cost lives, shed blood, and end with little glory for them. Why were they so willing to throw themselves into it?

Unfamiliar with the attitudes outside France, Charles didn't know that Australia's Prime Minister had pledged unwavering support to Britain, even vowing, "Australia will stand by Britain to the last drop of blood." Australian soldiers often proved even more courageous than the British on the battlefield. At Gallipoli, they had outperformed the British 29th Division.

Tijani, however, was not surprised. "Get your bearings and fortify the area," he instructed Richard curtly. "We're likely in for a brutal fight tomorrow."

"Yes, General!" Colonel Richard replied, snapping to attention with enthusiasm.

As he turned to leave, one of his guards suddenly whispered in awe, "Colonel, that's Charles! I saw him on the ship!"

"What?" Colonel Richard spun back around, his gaze sweeping the command post until he locked eyes with Charles, stunned. "You're…Charles?"

"Yes," Charles replied with a nod.

The colonel quickly approached and saluted, then nervously extended a hand. "It's an honor, Colonel Charles. I apologize for not recognizing you earlier."

"I've heard so much about you," Richard said, his voice tinged with awe. "Your strategy here—it's brilliant! A stroke of genius. It's changed everything on this front. I'm certain that victory is within reach."

Tijani responded with a noncommittal smile.

Charles, however, felt a pang of worry. If I don't find a solution, he thought, in two days, you'll witness the collapse of this very plan.

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