“Where is the King!”
“Did the high command of the kingdom all flee? Abandoning us! Abandoning the people and running!”
“If they haven’t fled, then let His Majesty the King come out! We want to see the King!”
“Are the interests of those dogs at the London Stock Exchange higher than the nation, the people, and the army! Give us an explanation!”
Inside Ostend, the final stronghold of the Belgian Army, after Germanian leaflets had been scattered everywhere, the remnants of the 1st, 4th, and 6th Belgian Divisions were thrown into utter chaos.
Countless soldiers surged toward the former royal palace, demanding an explanation; the pandemonium was completely uncontrollable.
Many did not care about the truth either. Morale had already fallen to rock bottom after successive defeats, and the pent-up frustration in their hearts truly had nowhere to go. They simply needed an excuse to vent.
At a time like this, as long as they were given an excuse, it would be like a lit match thrown into a powder magazine, tearing apart everything that stood in its way.
Among the Belgian Army’s final three divisions, the 1st Belgian Division was in relatively the best shape. It still retained a certain combat strength, and the time it had previously been used as cannon fodder had been comparatively short.
The 4th and 6th Belgian Divisions were basically blown up, especially the 4th, which had previously suffered the heaviest casualties during breakout attempts.
The three division commanders gathered together, their expressions extremely grim.
As high-ranking officers at the division commander level, they were naturally well-informed. They had learned last night in advance that the King had fled. It was Chief of the General Staff Felix who had personally notified them in private, also instructing them to keep it secret, to try their best to stabilize the situation, and promising that the Great Britannian Royal Navy would soon evacuate everyone.
But none of the three had expected the news to leak so quickly, actually causing the army to mutiny outright.
Those despicable Germanians had resorted to their old tricks again and directly airdropped leaflets! When had that stuffy enemy nation become so skilled at propaganda warfare?
Now, they could only discuss emergency countermeasures among themselves. In the end, after chatting for ages, they failed to devise any feasible way to suppress the troops.
Major General De Gijzel, commander of the 4th Division where resentment ran deepest, even showed signs of defecting, but was sharply reprimanded by Lieutenant General Bergham, the most senior and highest-ranking among them.
Major General Victor, commander of the 6th Division, played the mediator, because his division’s losses and accumulated resentment were both at the average level.
After the first secret meeting broke up unpleasantly, Lieutenant General Bergham had no choice but to go out alone and do his utmost to maintain the troops and prevent mutiny. Fortunately, he still possessed some prestige, running around putting out fires and making reckless promises, which temporarily stabilized the situation.
Bergham’s main argument was nothing more than deceiving the other Belgian officers and men, saying, “The Great Britannian Royal Navy won’t abandon everyone. Everyone can be picked up by warships. Another batch of warships is arriving shortly; as long as you queue in an orderly fashion, you can board.”
This argument temporarily fooled quite a few people. Hearing that there was a chance to leave by ship, they were no longer in such a hurry to surrender to the Germanian Army immediately.
And De Gijzel, who had been reprimanded by Bergham, pulled Victor aside, and the two talked privately again. De Gijzel very much wanted Victor to support him as well.
“Major General Victor! Think about it—it is impossible for everyone to evacuate! Someone has to stay behind to cover the retreat. Otherwise, with no one defending the city, the Germanian Army can reach the harbor in an hour; even if there are ships, there is no way to withdraw! Bergham is merely a lapdog of the high command. He has always been the best at currying favor with the royal family, the Defense Minister, and the General Staff. In the end, won’t it be you and I who are arranged to stay behind and die!”
Victor also knew there was some truth to what he said, but he was still hesitating, leaving the situation deadlocked for the moment.
“Even if someone has to stay behind and die, it will definitely be your 4th Division prioritized to cover the retreat. Who told you to fall out with him… As long as I maintain a position where I do not offend either side, I might still be able to snag a ticket on the ship…” This was the natural thought that crossed Victor’s mind, and it was also the truest and most common face of every fence-sitter.
Everyone was a fox who had cultivated for a thousand years; they were all damn shrewd. No one was fooling anyone.
Seeing him evade commitment, Major General De Gijzel naturally realized what he was thinking. The two then became estranged while appearing harmonious, temporarily maintaining a superficial brotherhood while actually each seeking their own way out.
Major General De Gijzel returned to his own station and immediately had someone turn on his division headquarters’ radio, preparing to communicate with the Germanian Army opposite them to secretly discuss surrender terms and get a feel for the market.
Major General Victor returned to camp and likewise did not forget to quickly use the radio to negotiate his own deal. Everyone began finding their own way out.
…
Meanwhile, London.
Naval Minister Wharton’s telephone was quickly blown up.
It was King Albert I of the Belgians, who had just withdrawn to Ypres, calling to strongly demand that he be sent back.
“Minister Wharton! Didn’t you say everything would be kept secret! And after I left, you would be able to extract my troops within two or three days too! Why did it leak so quickly! There must be a spy in your Naval Ministry! A Germanian spy!”
It turned out that the King had just received relayed notification from Lieutenant General Bergham that a military mutiny had occurred in Ostend, which was surrounded by the enemy!
The King, anxious as if his very hair were on fire, naturally had to immediately seek help, vent, and blame the Britannian Naval Minister. All sorts of emotions gushed out at once, catching Minister Wharton somewhat off guard.
“That is impossible! There are absolutely no spies in the Royal Navy high command! Furthermore, all vessels participating in the operation maintained absolute radio silence! King Albert, could the problem be on your end?”
Then came a round of mutual accusations between the two sides. Finally, Minister Wharton forcibly suppressed his anger and pointed out that everyone should look forward and resolve the problem first.
Then he guaranteed to King Albert: “Rest assured, the Royal Navy is the most responsible. We will dispatch high-speed destroyers to reach Ostend at maximum speed and extract as many as possible. Other fleets will also set sail as soon as possible to provide support! Now is not the time to pursue who leaked the intelligence; let us resolve the problem first! I guarantee that high-speed destroyers will arrive at Ostend within five hours!”
After hanging up, Minister Wharton hurriedly made further arrangements, even going so far as to break radio silence to have the destroyers of the Channel Fleet patrolling off the Belgian coast rush over first, while the remaining fleets also accelerated preparations to set sail.
Unfortunately, those pre-dreadnoughts built in the 1890s started up far too slowly; warming up the coal boilers alone took half a day. They could only rely on the relatively newer cruisers to serve as the main force for the evacuation mission.
After the furious Minister Wharton hung up, his entire obese frame slammed heavily into the sofa chair, his mind beginning to calculate once more just where such a capable person had come from among the enemy.
“This is absolutely not the kind of wisdom the Germanians should possess! They could not possibly have spied out this situation. Could it be that they were simply a blind cat stumbling on a dead rat, randomly making up rumors to bluff us?”
If someone had a god’s-eye view at this moment, they would mostly sigh with emotion: Minister Wharton truly deserved his reputation as the Number One Schemer of the Western Hemisphere; his guess was actually quite accurate.
Alas, when Zhou Yu was born, why must Zhuge Liang be born too? Now that Lelouch had transmigrated here, Wharton’s title of Number One Schemer of the Western Hemisphere could only be surrendered.
…
As the tale turns to each thread in turn.
At the same moment, at the 16th Regiment’s headquarters in Nieuwpoort.
Sergeant Major Lelouch, from early that morning, had been in the signals room with several trusted technical and cryptographic subordinates, constantly transmitting surrender appeals to the Belgians opposite them.
They used plain code and a low-power shortwave radio—the kind whose signal could only transmit a dozen or so kilometers—ensuring that only regimental-level officers and above within Ostend could receive it, while enemy rear areas farther away would have no way of knowing—
Of course, considering that radio waves propagate circularly in all directions without discrimination, theoretically the French Army controlling Dunkirk a dozen or so kilometers to the west could also receive these transmissions, though the French might not necessarily monitor them.
“Belgian officers and men across the way: think well of your prospects. You have no way out left. Your King has betrayed you. Surrendering under the present circumstances will absolutely not leave a stain of shame in the history books. The people will understand you too. This is the best opportunity to surrender…”
And so on. Such messages were transmitted in a loop, high-intensity bombing of the enemy communications officers’ nerves. Unless they turned off their radios and abandoned communications, they would easily receive them. And to ensure they did, Lelouch would often broadcast for a while and then switch frequencies before broadcasting again.
However, before receiving any reply, everyone’s hearts were uneasy. No one knew just how effective the psychological warfare and surrender appeals could be, or whether the enemy’s mentality would actually collapse.
Apart from Lelouch’s most die-hard confidant Klose, the other radio operators would all glance at their superior from time to time, seemingly wanting to find encouragement in his eyes.
After who knew how long, Klose and Schweinsteiger, keeping watch by the receiver, suddenly reported:
“Sir! We’ve intercepted an enemy reply! The reply claims to be from the headquarters of the 4th Belgian Division under Major General De Gijzel. They want to talk terms with us! It also mentions that Lieutenant General Bergham of the 1st Division is stubbornly refusing to surrender, and that Major General Victor of the 6th Division is sitting on the fence undecided. They hope to receive our assistance when defecting!”
Lelouch, who had been leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, his knuckles rhythmically tapping the armrest, immediately snapped his eyes open and stood up abruptly upon hearing this:
“We finally have a reply? Excellent! The enemy’s mutiny is finally uncontrollable! The first to want to defect is De Gijzel of the 4th Division… Hmm, let me think. His division did indeed suffer the heaviest casualties during the previous breakout. Yet the 6th Division is still sitting on the fence… Someone like him still has the nerve to sit on the fence? Got it! I know how to handle this. Immediately transmit according to my instructions.”
Lelouch merely paced back and forth a short seven steps—at roughly the same speed as Cao Zhi composed his seven-pace poem—and a new diabolical scheme, adapted to circumstances and tailored to counter the enemy’s moves, emerged from his mind.
“To Major General Victor, commander of the 6th Belgian Division: It is learned that yesterday, King Albert already proclaimed to the people that the so-called Yser River dike-breaching and flood-discharging incident was not a decision of the royal family and cabinet, but a tactical improvisation by frontline officers.
Ridiculous that the General does not know of the great calamity already approaching his head, yet still wishes to foolishly serve a benighted monarch and persist in error! Consider: now that King Albert has abandoned the people and army in retreat, when he later runs his mouth to the international community, he will inevitably dump the black pot onto the dead. At such a time, even if one wishes to loyally serve the nation for the sake of military honor, one must survive to have the chance to be recorded in history!
Otherwise, when the King then pushes all blame onto the dead, not only will the General suffer death, but also be stained by a false injustice, ultimately ending in a fate of ruin and infamy…
Furthermore, when the time comes, the Germanian Army will also provide testimony from the side: whoever does not surrender will have all the evidence for the Yser Canal dike-breaching incident piled onto the stubborn ones. The General personally participated in the dike-breaching. If you do not surrender to Germania, can you still wash clean the evil reputation in later generations?”
Lelouch had far too many such surrender-persuading scripts in his mind.
With his pre-transmigration thorough reading of the Twenty-Four Histories, relevant cases could be drawn upon effortlessly.
For example, after Zhang Han was defeated by Xiang Yu at the Battle of Julu, Chen Yu wrote to Zhang Han: “As a Qin general, if you win you must die; if you lose you must also die. Bai Qi and Meng Tian achieved such high merits yet could not be fully rewarded—how much more so a general who cannot even win, and who will also become the scapegoat for Zhao Gao to quell the Qin court’s demands for accountability.”
Lelouch combined and adapted all the cases he could think of with the mindset that all writing under heaven is but a patchwork. How could he not doom those Belgians?
For Western civilization to compare its historical accumulation of conspiracies and machinations with Eastern civilization is simply to display one’s axe skills before Lu Ban.
And after this series of telegrams, which fiercely attacked the dark corners of the enemy’s hearts, were sent out, the mutiny situation within Ostend also indeed reached a new climax.
A single sheet of paper could withstand a hundred thousand elite soldiers.
…
Half an hour later, inside the 6th Belgian Division’s headquarters in Ostend.
Major General Victor, looking at the Germanian telegram brought by Major General De Gijzel, immediately broke out in a profuse sweat, as if fished out of water.
“Despicable! Despicable! Too vicious!”
Major General Victor felt a wave of dizziness, his vision going black, and he was about to collapse to the ground. Fortunately, his orderlies were quick-eyed and deft, supporting the General on both sides.
“General, wake up! General, are you alright!”
In the end, it took pinching his philtrum, splashing cold water, and massaging his heart and lungs—a round of first aid—before Major General Victor finally recovered.
Too vicious! The reason these generals adamantly refused to surrender was to a very large extent due to the sense of honor among aristocratic officers.
When the war had just begun in 1914, both sides still had many old-school nobles. Many cared about face and did not want to leave a bad name in the history books.
As for loyalty to the King… heh, that accounted for only a small part. Everyone knew what was what; it was mainly reputation.
But Lelouch’s deduction made him see the most terrifying thing in the world: whoever did not cooperate would not only die, but also be utterly disgraced after death!
What was the point of fighting then?
Major General Victor’s spiritual backbone was finally broken; he was completely blackened.
Victor: “Brother, I’ll do it with you. Let’s surrender to the Germanian Army together and let them in. If Bergham dares to obstruct us, let’s join forces and lead the way to kill Bergham! He was always the trusted confidant of the King and the General Staff!
When the time comes, we’ll say the dike-breaching was done by a special operations team under his command; it has nothing to do with our 6th Division! All crimes of harming our compatriots will be piled onto his head—if you promise me this, I’ll do it with you!”
De Gijzel: “Deal!”
An hour later, the Grand Germanian Army surged into Ostend from both east and west.
The 4th and 6th Belgian Divisions announced their battlefield defection to relieve the people and punish the tyrant, overthrowing the despotic king.
Ostend was plunged into a short but fierce civil war.
The 4th and 6th Divisions guided the Germanian Army all the way to the former royal palace.
Lieutenant General Bergham, commander of the 1st Division, in the midst of the chaos, did not even understand the situation before he died muddleheadedly. The soldiers of the 1st Division who were absolutely loyal to the King were also mostly killed.
Only an extremely small portion, realizing the situation was wrong, disregarded the rough winds and waves at sea, and at the seaside docks found whatever small fishing boats, sampans, and sailboats they could, hurriedly boarding and fleeing with the current, hoping that Britannian warships would come to pick them up as soon as possible.
However, these could only be considered a minor skin ailment, no longer worth mentioning.
The victorious report was immediately transmitted to the 12th Division headquarters still cut off by the floodwaters on the southern side, and also to the 6th Army Group headquarters, and finally to the General Staff and the Emperor’s ears. The imperial propaganda department was also shaken by such an epic, legendary grand victory.
Major General Karl learned that the List Regiment under his command was the earliest to counterattack and fight its way into Ostend, and was also extremely excited.
Relying on merely one regiment, they had held off three Belgian divisions to the east and two French divisions to the west for three days and three nights, remaining as solid as a rock and never letting the enemy break out!
And the key point was that they had also inflicted massive casualties on the enemy, counter-killing three enemy divisions!
Complete annihilation of the Belgian Army!
According to post-battle statistics, this battle accepted the surrender of more than 17,000 enemy troops at once, and captured more than 4,000 lightly wounded soldiers, totaling 22,000 received.
Calculated by pre-war full-strength establishment, each Belgian division was roughly similar to German divisions at 16,000 to 18,000 men; three divisions at full strength should have had over 50,000 men.
However, considering that these three Belgian divisions were originally routed troops who had retreated after defeat at the Battle of Antwerp, their total numbers had already been less than 40,000 when they left Antwerp. Subsequent battles produced another 10,000 or so in accumulated casualties and desertions.
Most of these were lost during the Ostend defensive battles and the Nieuwpoort breakout battles. Several thousand more were lost during the internal fighting just before the final surrender.
Regardless, the Germanian Army accepted the surrender and captured 22,000 alive, totaling nearly 40,000 enemy killed.
What magnificent military achievements!
Rewards must be given heavily and swiftly! It must be reported to the High Command as a model case of grand victory!
The Major General immediately had someone drive at full speed, taking a large detour toward Ostend; he wanted to personally receive Colonel List and those meritorious officers and men who had just created a heaven-shaking miracle.