On May 8th, the skies were clear. Although the days had grown progressively warmer, the coastal breeze in Le Havre kept the heat at bay.
At six in the morning, Lieutenant General Ludendorff was already in full attire. Today marked the German Army's assault on Le Havre—a mission he took very seriously. After a brief breakfast, he toured the frontline positions. The artillery crews were already hard at work; though yesterday's barrage had left them exhausted, a night's rest had restored their vigor.
According to the German strategy, the artillery would unleash another round of bombardment before the infantry advanced. However, with much of the ammunition depleted from the previous day's onslaught, they needed to be more judicious in its use. The logistical corps was racing to replenish supplies, but that would require time.
"General!" Everywhere Ludendorff passed, soldiers and officers greeted him with salutes, which he returned unfailingly. Despite his stern demeanor in combat, he was known for his affable nature, earning him great respect among the ranks.
"Men, are you ready? In half an hour, you will open fire again. Use your shells to obliterate the British defenses they secretly rebuilt last night!" Ludendorff called to the artillerymen.
"Rest assured, sir! We'll soon be rid of those Brits," one artilleryman replied with a grin.
"Yes, send them scurrying back to their island or leave them to perish here. This is the continent; they do not belong here!" Another chimed in, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.
Ludendorff nodded, observing the soldiers' high spirits before moving on. By the time he returned to headquarters, Field Marshal von Kluck was awake, partaking in breakfast.
"General Ludendorff, care for some breakfast?" Kluck asked.
"Thank you, sir, but I've already eaten," Ludendorff replied.
"Ah, the vigor of youth! During the Franco-Prussian War, I was a young company commander, much like you. In those days, I could march without sleep. But now, alas, age has caught up with me," Kluck sighed.
"You're in your prime, sir. His Majesty has often said that without generals like you, the Empire would not be as formidable as it is today," Ludendorff said earnestly.
Kluck smiled; receiving such praise from the Emperor was indeed an honor, especially under the new reign, where securing favorable recognition was invaluable.
The minutes slipped by, and soon it was eight o'clock.
"Report: reconnaissance planes have scouted thirty kilometers around the area—no anomalies detected," an officer announced.
"If everything's in order, proceed as planned," Kluck instructed.
"Yes, sir. Order the artillery to commence shelling. Infantry will attack in an hour," Ludendorff commanded.
With a nod, the officer relayed the orders.
"If all goes well, we should breach Le Havre by day's end. Three days at most to wipe out the British Expeditionary Force and capture the city," Ludendorff said confidently.
Von Kluck said little in reply, though he too held unwavering faith in his forces. While the German Eighth Corps was hailed as the Army's elite, Kluck harbored quiet pride for his First Corps, considering it no less capable. The Eighth's prowess was largely due to the generous investment in advanced equipment by the then-Crown Prince, now Emperor. If other corps received similar resources, their fighting capacity would likewise soar.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
After a night's silence, the German artillery once again erupted in fury. Shell after shell, propelled with immense force, pounded the British lines. During the night, the British forces had labored to restore part of their defenses, hoping to use them in the coming battle. But before these fortifications could prove their worth, they were obliterated under the relentless German bombardment.
"The Germans have resumed shelling. Their infantry will soon follow. Send a message to Admiral Cawston; inform him to commence operations," General Haig ordered with excitement.
Although the German shelling continued, the Royal Navy's fleet still needed time to reach Le Havre. By Haig's calculations, the fleet would arrive just as the German infantry launched their main assault—perfect timing for the Royal Navy to unleash a devastating bombardment against the advancing Germans.
"Yes, sir." The communications officer promptly dispatched the message.
Receiving Haig's signal, Vice Admiral Cawston, aboard the fleet flagship *King Edward VII*, ordered the ships to set course for Le Havre.
An hour passed swiftly, and the German artillery barrage ceased. The infantry, poised for action, advanced.
In this initial assault, the First Corps committed four divisions, while the Eighth Corps added two, totaling over 100,000 men. Their advance was fierce, intent on tearing through the British lines in one decisive blow.
The German assault proved unstoppable, and the beleaguered British forces could not withstand it. After only two waves, the British lost all outer defenses around Le Havre. Yet, Haig and his officers remained calm.
At nine-thirty, the Royal Navy fleet arrived. Haig immediately ordered the British front lines to disengage from the Germans.
Meanwhile, the Royal Navy ships offshore began their own bombardment.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Massive naval guns roared, hurling shells weighing hundreds of kilograms at the German positions with destructive force.