I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start
Chapter 319 319: Sniper Company
Even with the advantage of amphibious landing craft, Charles's plan to flank the enemy came with considerable risks. Pointing to the sea on the eastern side, he explained, "If the Ottomans spot our landing craft in time, they'll likely bring machine guns and artillery to bear on them, which would be devastating."
Tijani nodded. "And then there's the machine guns positioned along their defensive line on both flanks. That fire could pin our forces down and hit them from two sides."
If the frontal assault were to crumble, any troops that managed to flank the enemy would be walking into a death trap.
"That's why," Charles continued, gesturing toward the center of the enemy's line, "we need to make them think we're launching a frontal assault here, so they'll focus their attention on it."
"But…" Tijani hesitated, looking at Charles. "How do we make sure they know?"
Charles smiled without saying a word. He had his ways of ensuring that information would reach the enemy.
Sanders was satisfied with how the battle was going, at least for the time being.
The Australians were attacking fiercely, charging the Ottoman trenches under the cover of mortars and grenades. Although they had managed to engage in hand-to-hand combat a few times, Sanders's artillery and reinforcements were ultimately able to drive them back. Artillery kept their reinforcements at bay, while Ottoman reinforcements poured in like an unceasing tide. Given the circumstances, Sanders had no doubt the victory would be theirs.
At that moment, his adjutant, Quinn, rushed out of the command post to report. "General, the enemy is attacking on the flank."
Sanders nodded, assuming the attack was meant to distract the Ottomans, thinning their defenses so the Australians would have an easier time breaking through.
But Quinn added in a tense voice, "They're close to collapse, General. They're requesting reinforcements."
"What?" Sanders spun around, looking at Quinn in shock.
They'd barely begun fighting—how could they already be on the brink of collapse? And on a secondary front, no less.
"General!" Quinn thrust a series of dispatches into Sanders's hands, his face pale. "I believe the enemy's main offensive is coming from the flank."
Sanders glanced at the dispatches and gasped, "Amphibious landing craft? They're flanking us with amphibious craft?"
"Yes!" Quinn replied. "It seems they launched the flanking assault as soon as we began shelling their positions."
Sanders understood now: he'd fallen for a feint. While his focus was on the central assault, the enemy had launched a real offensive on the flank.
Quickly, Sanders closed his binoculars and strode toward the command post. Then, breaking into a run, he rushed inside, breathless. "What's the situation?" he demanded.
One by one, his staff officers reported:
"The enemy landing craft have successfully flanked our 3rd Militia Regiment and are pressing the attack from the rear."
"The enemy is simultaneously advancing on both defensive lines."
"They have heavy artillery support—mortars—and they've focused dozens of them on the flank. Our casualties are mounting."
It must have been their new supply of mortars and shells, Sanders thought, cursing himself. He should have blockaded their supply line, but he'd chosen to conserve his own ammunition instead.
"Machine guns!" Sanders ordered. "Deploy more machine guns immediately. Have the artillery redirect their fire to suppress the flank."
"Yes, sir!" replied an officer.
Sanders's response was sound. Long-range artillery would hold back the enemy's mortars, allowing machine guns to operate effectively. In this situation, machine guns were king; they could mow down advancing enemy troops along both lines. With sufficient firepower, they could secure the flank and allow the Ottomans to reclaim the initiative.
But Sanders underestimated Charles.
Charles had anticipated this move and had already prepared a specialized unit: the First Sniper Company, led by none other than Edward Shen, also known as Billy Shen.
Unlike the standard 200-strong company, the Sniper Company consisted of only around 100 soldiers, each carefully chosen for their marksmanship.
Charles summoned Shen, who now greeted him with a crisp "Oui, capitaine!" in his newly-learned French.
"Your primary targets are the enemy's machine gunners," Charles said. "Once we begin, I don't want a single machine gun in your sector firing off a shot."
"Yes, sir!" Shen replied with full confidence.
"You're not going to ask any questions?" Charles raised an eyebrow. "For example, the size of your sector, or how many guns or enemy soldiers you'll be up against?"
"No, sir," Shen replied. "I trust that the mission you've assigned is within reason. I don't need to worry about that."
A sharp fellow, thought Charles.
Shen had clearly realized that this was a make-or-break operation. Charles wouldn't gamble everyone's lives on a plan that wasn't within his capabilities.
But Charles couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. Shen was highly capable, yet in history, even his exceptional skills hadn't helped him escape discrimination.
"There's one more thing," Charles said. "You'll have to get used to working with others, Lieutenant."
"What?" Shen paused, glancing at his uniform in confusion. "But I'm just a sergeant… and I always work alone…"
He glanced at the translator, thinking he might have misheard.
Charles cut him off, nodding toward a set of new equipment in the corner of the trench. "You're a lieutenant now. I've had two sets of French uniforms sent over. If you're interested…"
"Absolutely, sir!" Shen replied eagerly. "Of course I'd be interested."
An officer already? And in the French Army, no less! Now he could march proudly before those who'd looked down on him.
"But about working with others," Charles added firmly. "There's no room for debate. You have to learn to work in a team."
"Why, sir?" Shen asked, clearly not understanding and perhaps a bit resentful.
Charles explained, "One soldier acts as the shooter; the other as a spotter. The shooter can focus on aiming without distractions, while the spotter has a wider field of vision to identify valuable targets."
Shen blinked, considering. "So… two soldiers working together would be more effective than two rifles working separately?"
"Exactly," Charles nodded. "The shooter can stay focused on targeting and firing without losing time searching for targets. Do you have any objections?"
"No, sir!" Shen replied with a salute, though his face betrayed a hint of skepticism. Would this really work?
If they couldn't coordinate, they'd just get in each other's way.
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