“Ahh! My eyes! My eyes—glub glub glub…”
Lu Xiu was jolted awake by a searing pain in both eyes.
He had just opened his mouth to cry for help when the roar of the tide crashed over him, bitter, salty seawater flooding his mouth and nose and cutting short his screams.
With his life hanging by a thread, he erupted with unimaginable potential, struggling to his feet while violently choking on water.
His eyes, rinsed by the seawater, gushed an even greater flood of tears, and only then did his surroundings gradually come into focus.
He was actually on a beach engulfed in relentless artillery fire.
As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but ruins of buildings and piers, wreckage of equipment and soldiers, and gas canisters still trailing wisps of smoke.
“Corporal Lu Luxiu? You’re still alive? Take cover, quick! Enemy ships are still shelling us!”
Lu Xiu was still in a daze when he suddenly spotted a soldier lying in a shell crater ahead, waving and shouting at him.
He didn’t have time to think. Driven by instinct, he sprinted madly before finally tumbling into the crater.
Surprisingly, he felt no pain during the roll—only a numbness brought on by the surge of adrenaline.
He had just flattened himself when a 6-inch naval shell slammed into the mudflat he had just occupied, hurling up a fountain of mud over a dozen meters high.
Fortunately, his mouth was hanging open as he gasped for breath, his Eustachian tubes fully open, so the blast didn’t rupture his eardrums. But his entire body still suffered a violent churning sensation.
Everything felt so real. Had he transmigrated?
The comrade beside him had also been spattered with mud, but he seemed used to it. He dusted off his gray uniform, pulled out a damp matchbox and a captured Gilnean cigarette, lit it, and held it out.
“Squad leader, it’s great that you’re still alive! I thought you’d suffocated on tear gas too! Your left eye looks terrifyingly bloodshot. Remember to get it checked at the hospital after the battle.”
Lu Xiu took several deep breaths, and the ominous premonition in his heart grew stronger.
He had originally been an electrical engineer and a military enthusiast who loved playing *Hearts of Iron* after work. Last night he had pulled another all-nighter as usual, playing a WWI scenario mod made by an internet user—
The author had deliberately toned down many extreme elements in the scenario so it could pass review on the Steam Workshop. For example, neither side had researched poison gas technology, nor did they have those madmen who repeatedly violated the laws of war. In short, it was a world that paralleled real history yet was different, a more “harmonious” world.
Later, while playing, Lu Xiu’s eyes began to hurt badly. Without shutting down his computer, he had fallen into a deep sleep slumped over his desk.
When the pain in his eyes woke him again, he had actually transmigrated onto a battlefield.
Looking at his surroundings, everyone was wearing gray military uniforms without helmets and carrying Type 98 rifles—sure enough, it looked like the World War I era.
He had only wanted to play a game, not personally jump onto the field and risk his life!
But what was done was done. He had no choice; enemy artillery and gas wouldn’t listen to reason. He had to find a way to survive first!
From this moment on, he had to adapt to his new identity!
Lu Luxiu remained in a stupor, recalling all this for quite a while, until the half-smoked Gilnean burned his fingers. He winced and flicked it away, then asked with a last glimmer of hope:
“I got a bit dizzy from the gas. Can you tell me where this is and who we’re fighting?”
The comrade didn’t think much of it and answered pretty much everything.
After a brief exchange, Lu Luxiu learned that his comrade was named Kreutzer, a private first class.
He was, like Lu Luxiu, assigned to the Wire-Laying Platoon of the directly subordinate Signals Battalion, Germanian 6th Army.
It was the afternoon of October 25, 1914.
This was the town of Nieuwpoort in the Kingdom of Belgica, and twenty kilometers to the west was Dunkirk, a border city of Francia.
The world war had been raging for three months now.
In the first two months of the war, the Empire had attempted to blitz its old rival Francia according to the Griffin Plan, but failed, stopped by the enemy at the Meuse River.
After that, both armies had driven north, attempting to outflank each other through mobile warfare. It wasn’t until both sides had outflanked all the way to the sea, with nowhere left to maneuver, that the fighting turned into positional warfare.
Today should be the final day of the “Race to the Sea,” because before them lay the boundless North Sea.
The town was currently defended by a friendly cavalry reconnaissance company and their signals platoon.
The cavalry company had arrived last night and seized the town. The signals platoon had been temporarily reassigned that morning to repair telegraph lines.
To the west of the town were the Francs, while to the east, retreating Belgican remnants from Antwerp were fleeing west along the coastal highway.
“If we can hold the town, cut off the coastal highway, and hang on until reinforcements arrive, the Bel-gicans will be completely annihilated!” As he said this, Kreutzer’s eyes gleamed with a desire to win glory and build a career.
But Lu Luxiu felt his vision go dark.
His worst fears were confirmed.
When he had been gaming last night, he had looked over the WWI lore, so he knew full well that Belgica had not been completely destroyed in the Great War, nor had its army been totally wiped out.
Because historically, this defensive battle at Nieuwpoort had ended in defeat.
The defenders had been annihilated in a single day while overwhelmingly outnumbered.
Belgica’s last three national divisions, with the desperation of cornered dogs, launched suicidal charges and finally broke through to Dunkirk by trampling over the bodies of the Germanian defenders.
If he didn’t do something, he would die here too.
Lu Luxiu felt a surge of hot blood rush to his head. He grabbed Kreutzer’s shoulders and shook him excitedly:
“High command actually expects this handful of men to hold out until reinforcements arrive? That’s insane! Does Division HQ think we’re gods? We’ll all die here! Kreutzer, take me to the commander now! I have an urgent report!”
Kreutzer looked conflicted. “Squad leader, you weren’t such a coward before. Besides, Lieutenant Hanks is already dead.”
Lu Luxiu: “Then take me to the reconnaissance company command post!”
“Alright, you’re the boss. You call the shots.”
Kreutzer sighed, crouched low, and crawled out of the shell crater, darting forward under artillery fire. Lu Luxiu followed closely behind.
…
The company command post was located beside a bombed-out mill on the western side of town. All along the way, friendly soldiers could be seen using building ruins as cover, resisting stubbornly.
Lu Luxiu ran for several minutes. He was just one street crossing away from the company command post, but bullets were whizzing across the street, causing him to stumble in fright. He simply didn’t dare sprint across under machine-gun fire.
A captain across the street spotted the commotion and roared, “Everyone find cover where you are! No unnecessary movement!”
Lu Luxiu had no choice but to hide behind a broken wall and, together with Kreutzer, raise his rifle and fire repeatedly through the gaps.
Before transmigrating, he had often played real-life battle royale games. After working the bolt for a while, his tension eased somewhat, and he gradually grew accustomed to the firearm’s recoil.
The Franc soldiers were still wearing the bright red trousers from the era of line-infantry tactics fifty years ago, very conspicuous. They charged straight down the main street into the town.
Lu Luxiu had only swapped out two clips when he killed an enemy.
Watching a large hole get drilled into the enemy’s chest, blood and flesh flying, Lu Luxiu’s heart rate instantly spiked to two hundred, and his palms broke into a wild sweat.
Yet he didn’t even realize it; he just continued firing mechanically.
After who knew how many more rounds, the rifle’s recoil actually jarred the sweat-slicked stock from his hands, sending it smashing into his cheek and making him see stars.
But all his comrades were busy killing the enemy; no one paid him any attention.
The Francs were numerous, pressing closer and closer, seemingly having pushed past more than half the street.
But just then, the tide of battle turned.
A friendly mortar, after several ranging shots missed, finally hit the enemy Hodges heavy machine-gun position.
As soon as the enemy heavy machine gun fell silent, the pressure on the defenders immediately eased considerably.
The captain seized the moment and bellowed, “All units, fire at will! The enemy is just a rabble that fears death! If we get through today, the Bel-gicans are finished!”
“Drive back the Francs! Annihilate the Bel-gicans!” The soldiers on the position were in high spirits, firing with all their might.
Two Model 1908 heavy machine guns, originally lying in ambush within the rubble at the street corner and excellently camouflaged, suddenly opened fire simultaneously, forming a crossfire that mowed down the enemy on the main street in waves.
The enemy finally broke, with soldiers fleeing in droves with their heads in their hands. Over a hundred red-trousered corpses were left before the position.
Seeing that the fighting had temporarily subsided, Lu Luxiu seized the opportunity to dash across the intersection and rush straight to the captain.
The captain looked at his swollen cheek with some disdain. “You’re a technical NCO, aren’t you? Never killed anyone before? You let your hand slip while firing?”
Lu Luxiu didn’t argue. He simply saluted: “Wire-Laying Platoon, Signals Battalion directly subordinate to the 6th Army, Corporal Lu Luxiu Hunter.”
“Reconnaissance Company, 12th Division, 6th Army, Captain Hans Andri,” the captain introduced himself, then preemptively asked, “Have the cables that went down last night been fixed?”
Lu Luxiu: “We ran into combat as soon as we arrived and haven’t had time to fix them. Lieutenant Hanks was killed, and several other squad leaders were knocked out by gas.”
Andri shook his head helplessly. “So now a corporal is in charge of the signals platoon? Say what you need to say quickly. I’m busy, and the enemy will only get more frenzied.”
Lu Luxiu leaned in and whispered, “Captain, we should prepare early. This town cannot be held.”
Andri’s face immediately changed, and he snarled in a low voice, “If you dare say that any louder, I’ll have you shot for undermining morale!
The enemy is numerous, true, but they can’t all reach the battlefield at once. If the main force of the division can arrive tonight, victory will still belong to the Empire!”
Lu Luxiu anxiously scratched his hair and sighed in a low voice, “But based on what we saw on our march here this morning, the 12th Division likely won’t make it.”
Andri exploded. “Impossible! At noon I just used the radio to contact the rear. Division HQ said they’re only thirty kilometers away. Half a day of forced marching and they can’t cover that?”
Seeing Andri’s rage about to spiral out of control, Lu Luxiu didn’t bother making his lie more airtight. He could only risk making a bold, definitive assertion:
“But when we crossed the Yser Canal to the south this morning, we saw Bel-gicans planting explosives on the embankment from a distance! They definitely plan to blow the dikes to block our reinforcements if their breakout fails!
Bel-gica is a low-lying country. Both banks of the Yser are below sea level! Once the dikes are blown, seawater will flood in, turning the area into a marshland dozens of kilometers wide!”
The moment Lu Luxiu said this, not only was Captain Andri shaken, but even Kreutzer, who had come with him, stared with wide eyes.
When they had marched there that morning, they had indeed seen Bel-gican troops active downstream of the Yser, but they definitely hadn’t seen anyone “planting explosives on the embankment.”
How could they have seen clearly from such a distance? Since they couldn’t, the whole thing was at best dubious.
Kreutzer knew his squad leader was lying.
Lu Luxiu was naturally lying, but he absolutely had to tell this lie, because he knew the story—
In the later years of the Great War, northern Bel-gica remained in a swampy state, and neither side could launch effective offensives there. And the root of it all was that on the final day of the “Race to the Sea,” the Bel-gican army had blown the dikes and flooded the area with seawater to stop the enemy.
Because of this great flood, the main body of the 12th Division hadn’t reached the sea but had been inundated halfway there. The division’s directly subordinate reconnaissance company, which had arrived here early, was consequently wiped out in an enemy pincer attack.
Faced with Lu Luxiu’s sensational claim, Captain Andri instinctively retorted fiercely, “This is impossible! We only want to pass through Bel-gican territory to fight Francia! We don’t have some deep blood feud with them! Would they rather destroy their own homes and perish with us just to stop us? The civilians on both banks of the canal will drown too! Don’t they have any military honor?”
Lu Luxiu’s scalp went numb. Convincing a traditional officer like Captain Andri of this was simply too difficult.
The crux was that it was too urgent; he had no time to explain. He could only pull Kreutzer hard and give him a meaningful look: “Tell the captain, didn’t you witness all of this with your own eyes too!”
Cold sweat ran down Kreutzer’s back. Deceive a friendly company commander for his squad leader?
In the end, looking at his squad leader’s blood-red left eye, injured by poison, and recalling the bond they had forged through life-and-death struggles, Kreutzer couldn’t help but feel dazed: the squad leader must have a reason for lying!
So he gritted his teeth and testified, “I swear on my honor as a soldier, I also saw the enemy tampering with the embankment at that time.”
He still wasn’t used to lying after all. When the words reached his lips, he changed “planting explosives” to “tampering.”
Andri finally believed them somewhat, and soon began thinking frantically with blood rushing to his head.
“What do we do? What should we do right now?”
Lu Luxiu had already thought it through, and he hurriedly suggested upon seeing this, “Sir, I need to borrow the reconnaissance company’s radio! What needs to be done right now is to immediately issue a blanket warning to all friendly units within communication range!
Tell those who have already crossed the Yser to abandon heavy equipment and force-march at full speed! Those who haven’t crossed can retreat to high ground nearby and dig in.
The Bel-gicans probably haven’t blown the dikes yet, but they could at any moment. Once they do, the water will flood the valley within half an hour, and the water level will rise to sea level within two hours!”
Captain Andri thought it made sense, but he was still somewhat worried and pressed further, “But if the intelligence is wrong, or if you two were mistaken?
If the enemy doesn’t blow the dikes, then you’ll have delayed the arrival of reinforcements! And caused losses to their baggage train!”
Lu Luxiu said with a sincere yet firm gaze, “If there is no flood, our army will definitely secure this theater, and equipment temporarily abandoned can be recovered in a few days.
But if there is a flood, the losses will be catastrophic! As reconnaissance company commander, if you failed to spot this critical danger on the army’s line of advance, you’d be facing a firing squad from the military tribunal!”
Andri shuddered involuntarily. After weighing the options, he felt that for the safety of the entire division’s comrades-in-arms, it was better to believe it.
He gritted his teeth and ordered, “You men, take Corporal Lu Luxiu to the radio room immediately! Allow him to broadcast a warning to nearby friendly forces in the name of the 12th Division Reconnaissance Company!”
——
P.S.: New book seeking comments, follows, collections, and recommendations. Niche subject matter; keeping up with updates is very important.