Chapter 0592: Collapse

"What a marvelous sound, what a beautiful sight! I only wish that the fleet's bombardment could annihilate all the British!" Admiral Krück put down his telescope, his face radiating a broad smile.

"Indeed, General! Now, it is the British who shall tremble under the weight of our artillery. I believe, while the navy's bombardment may not inflict significant physical harm upon the British, the blow to their morale will be devastating. With that, we shall easily defeat them," said General Ludendorff.

Admiral Krück nodded, "It seems that this cursed war will soon come to an end."

For the German army, once the fighting on the French front was over, the bulk of the battle would be considered won. Next, the focus would shift to the attack on British soil. Though the British would surely resist on their home ground, it was clear that the might of the German army would shatter their resistance, bringing the war to a swift conclusion.

"General, our infantry must prepare. Once the fleet's bombardment is complete, we will launch an immediate attack. We shall take Le Havre before the British have time to react, ending the battle as swiftly as possible," Ludendorff suggested.

"Yes, absolutely. A brilliant idea!" Admiral Krück nodded repeatedly in agreement.

As the German fleet bombarded Le Havre, the 1st and 8th Infantry Corps advanced steadily toward the city. However, they refrained from launching an immediate assault, waiting instead for the completion of their navy's bombardment before striking.

Initially, the morale of the troops had been severely shaken by the fierce British bombardment. Yet now, it was rising rapidly. The soldiers watched as their fleet's shells relentlessly pounded the city, sending plumes of smoke and dust soaring into the sky. This sight revitalized their spirits, filling them with renewed confidence in their ability to defeat the enemy.

While the heavy artillery of their fleet was awe-inspiring, it was clear that such bombardments would only serve to elevate the morale of their own forces. This, in turn, played a significant role in revitalizing the German troops.

Of course, for the British, enduring the brutal bombardment of the German fleet was far from pleasant. They were learning firsthand the devastating impact of a large-caliber naval bombardment. Despite the German fleet's use of 280mm guns, the destructive power of these shells was no less formidable than the British Navy's 305mm guns. The heavy explosive shells, filled with copious amounts of high-grade explosives, could obliterate everything in their path upon detonation.

The hastily constructed British defensive positions were easily destroyed under the onslaught of these massive shells, and with them, the British soldiers manning them were annihilated, both physically and psychologically.

"My God! So this is the terror of a heavy naval bombardment!" In a makeshift air raid shelter beneath the city, dozens of British soldiers huddled together. Though the basement had been reinforced, they had little hope of surviving the onslaught of such powerful artillery.

The violent explosions reverberated relentlessly, causing the entire basement to tremble. Dust fell from the ceiling, coating the soldiers with grime. Yet none of them cared about such trivial matters; their only thought was to pray to God that the basement would withstand the German bombardment. If it did, perhaps they would live to see another day. If it collapsed, they would be buried alive.

"As long as we aren't directly hit, we should survive," one British officer muttered, attempting to reassure the men.

But no sooner had he spoken, a thunderous explosion shook the very foundations of the building. The ceiling of the basement cracked open, and massive stones rained down, burying the soldiers beneath them before they could react.

It was a direct hit from a 280mm shell, a force far beyond the capacity of even reinforced structures to withstand.

Under the relentless bombardment of the German fleet, British casualties soared. Countless soldiers perished in the explosions, or were buried alive in collapsing shelters. Few were merely injured; those caught by the full force of the large-caliber shells were almost always killed instantly.

The headquarters of the British Expeditionary Force, though sturdy, could not escape the effects of the bombardment. Even though it was not likely to collapse from a direct hit, the hearts of Generals French, Haig, and Gough were as cold as winter.

As they watched the destruction of their forces, they could do nothing but helplessly witness the inevitable collapse of the British resistance. The shattered morale of the British officers and soldiers left them no hope of withstanding the fierce onslaught of the German army. How could a broken force stand against the ferocity of the Germans?

But their hands were tied.

Whether it was General French or General Haig, they had no answers. All they could do was watch as the Expeditionary Force marched toward its doom. The fate of these high-ranking officers seemed inevitable: either capture by the Germans or death on the battlefield.

Despite the British army's tradition of evacuating important leaders at the last moment, the proximity of the German fleet at Le Havre made any such rescue operation nearly impossible.

The bombardment continued throughout the morning, inflicting catastrophic losses on the British Expeditionary Force. By afternoon, the German 1st and 8th Corps launched their assault. The 1st Corps deployed six infantry divisions, while the 2nd Corps sent four more, totaling over 100,000 men attacking from five directions against Le Havre.

The morale of the British had already hit rock bottom after the bombardment, and they had no will to resist the German assault. The battle quickly degenerated into a rout, with the British forces collapsing at the mere touch of the German offensive. At this point, there was no longer any doubt about the outcome of the battle.