"Sir, the British have constructed a formidable defensive position ahead. Their firing points are situated in our blind spots, making them difficult to eliminate!" reported a lieutenant to a captain commanding the company.
The captain furrowed his brow. "Is it feasible to send in snipers to circumvent their defenses?"
"Sir, the snipers have already attempted this, but the British are exceedingly cunning," the lieutenant replied.
"Coordinate with the battalion; we require reinforcements. Request artillery support to bombard that area. I want to see if the British positions can withstand the assault of heavy artillery," the captain ordered.
"Yes, sir."
Their request was relayed through several channels to the division headquarters, which promptly instructed the artillery battalion. Fortunately, a battery of 150mm heavy howitzers had just completed its prior mission. Upon receiving the infantry company's request, they prepared to deliver the bombardment.
Six 150mm heavy howitzers swiftly turned their barrels to aim at the designated target.
"Fire!" At the command of the officer, the howitzers unleashed a furious barrage.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
With each thunderous explosion, shells screamed through the air.
In the Paris city area, the German infantry company awaited anxiously. Soldiers lay low in their trenches, wary of being caught in the friendly fire of their own bombardment—a risk they could ill afford.
"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"
Soon, the air filled with a whistling sound.
"They're coming! They're coming!"
The seasoned veterans, battle-hardened by the ravages of war, recognized the sound as artillery shells slicing through the air.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
One by one, shells rained down upon the British positions, erupting in explosive blasts that sent plumes of smoke skyward. Shockwaves rippled outward, scattering earth and debris; some soldiers were even swept away by the force.
The German soldiers appeared momentarily stunned by the sheer power unleashed.
"My God! This is the unmistakable force of 150mm howitzers! I never anticipated that we would receive such formidable support," murmured the captain. He had thought that securing assistance from 105mm howitzers would be commendable, and if luck was against them, they might only get 75mm field guns. But this was far beyond his expectations.
Certainly, the backing of large-caliber artillery was immensely beneficial to them. The British positions were gradually being reduced to rubble under the relentless bombardment of the 150mm howitzers. The soldiers stationed at these positions knew all too well that they were suffering catastrophic losses, allowing the Germans to advance with minimal casualties.
The German artillery support rained down for ten full minutes. During this time, over two hundred 150mm shells struck the British positions. When the smoke cleared, the once-stronghold lay in tatters, pockmarked with deep craters. The British soldiers defending the area had vanished, leaving behind only severed limbs and shredded remains—grim testament to the ferocity of the bombardment.
As the German soldiers ascended to the devastated position, their faces turned pale at the horrific sight. The sight of mangled corpses made some of them retch violently, likely leaving them with a long-lasting aversion to meat.
Under the intense German bombardment, the British and French forces found themselves utterly incapable of mounting a defense. Their fortifications could not withstand the might of heavy artillery, and their own artillery units had sustained near-total losses. The relentless German firepower and air assaults had rendered the Allied artillery the first to be decimated in this battle. The remnants of their forces, having suffered significant casualties, could barely muster any effective response. This conflict had devolved entirely into a one-sided affair, with the Allied forces merely enduring a brutal assault.
The position of the British Expeditionary Force's 4th Army was situated near a church on the northern bank of the Seine. Their command post was likewise underground, for the dangers above ground were too great. Any direct hit from German heavy artillery or aerial bombardment could spell disaster. General Allenby was well aware of the precariousness of his own life.
"General, the 33rd Infantry Division has suffered over half of its losses, and the division commander requests a withdrawal," a staff officer reported to General Allenby.
"Withdrawing? Their sector is only a few kilometers from my command post. If they retreat, the Germans will directly assault my headquarters! Inform them that a withdrawal is out of the question!" Allenby commanded.
"Yes, General."
Minutes later, another staff officer reported that the 37th Infantry Division was requesting assistance.
"Tell the 37th Infantry Division that I have no reinforcements available. They must rely on their own strength to endure," Allenby stated.
A series of alarming reports had left General Allenby in a state of agitation. Since the onset of the Battle of Paris, the Allied forces had been relentlessly suppressed. The Germans, utilizing heavy artillery and aircraft, had inflicted severe losses. Every moment, soldiers were falling victim to German bombardments or airstrikes.
Worse still, the increasing ferocity of the German assaults indicated that the Allied forces in Paris could not hold out much longer. For Allenby, this was an unacceptable prospect.
He could not bear the thought of being foolishly killed by a German shell or bomb. As a distinguished British Army general, he wished to continue living.
"Damn it, this cannot continue. We simply cannot overpower the Germans. If we persist in this manner, we will only meet our demise. This is the capital of France; it is expected that the French will fight tooth and nail against the Germans, but we have no obligation to lay down our lives in defense of their capital," Allenby pondered.
He even found himself resenting Sir French for ordering their army corps to assist the French in defending Paris, which felt like a blatant invitation to death. The mere thought of this infuriated Allenby.
"I refuse to die; I must survive. I must return to Britain, and I cannot perish here," Allenby murmured to himself. As he repeated this mantra, his resolve grew ever more steadfast.