Chapter 0775: A Ferocious Assault

Beneath the shroud of night, squads of British soldiers crouched low, rifles at the ready, advancing cautiously toward the German defenses. Sweat drenched every soldier, a consequence not only of the oppressive heat but also the suffocating tension that even the cool sea breeze could not dispel. 

More than the physical strain, it was fear that weighed heavily on their hearts. The ferocity of the German forces during the day's battles had left the British troops deeply shaken. The overwhelming firepower of the enemy was particularly terrifying, foretelling the grim likelihood of devastating losses in this night assault. Many silently wondered how many among them would survive the night. 

"Damn those Germans! Why did they have to invade the British Empire, forcing us into this fight to the death? I should be at home, living a peaceful life with my wife and children!" a soldier muttered under his breath. 

"Idiot! Shut your mouth! Do you want the Germans to catch wind of our ambush and get us all killed?" an officer hissed back, his voice a harsh whisper. 

The soldier clamped his mouth shut, not daring to utter another word. The need for stealth dictated a painstakingly slow advance. The closer they got to the German lines, the more deliberate their movements became, each man acutely aware that discovery would mean annihilation under the enemy's merciless fire. 

British high command placed great significance on this nocturnal assault. Success would not only reclaim lost ground but also invigorate the troops' morale. It would signal to the Germans that another landing attempt on British soil would face insurmountable resistance. Failure, however, would mean conceding the mainland to the German forces, leading to an inevitable and catastrophic showdown with their main army. 

"Have all units advanced?" General Hamilton inquired of his adjutant. 

"Yes, General. Each of the three main armies has deployed three elite infantry divisions for the night raid. Given that the Germans' landing forces are limited and likely caught off guard, they should struggle to resist our assault," the adjutant replied confidently. 

Hamilton shook his head. "The Germans aren't fools. They know tonight is critical. If they endure this night, they'll have a firm foothold on British soil. Defeating them afterward will be far harder. Rest assured, they'll be prepared." 

"Does that mean the odds of our night raid succeeding are slim?" the adjutant asked, his voice tinged with anxiety. 

"Even if the Germans anticipate our attack, they can't prepare for everything. Ultimately, it will come down to the strength of both sides. If God is on our side, we might just drive them back into the sea!" Hamilton replied. 

"God will undoubtedly protect the British Empire. We will defeat the Germans!" the adjutant declared with unwavering conviction. 

The frontline officers shared the same faith, pressing ahead with the risky night raid in hopes of expelling the German forces with one decisive blow. 

As a soldier moved cautiously forward, he suddenly froze, his expression turning to horror. 

"You fool! Keep moving!" an officer barked. 

"Sir, I think I've stepped on a mine!" the soldier stammered, panic seizing his voice. 

"What? A mine? God help us! The Germans have laid mines!" the officer exclaimed, his face pale with dread. 

Nearby soldiers stood rooted to the spot, their fear palpable. None dared to move, terrified they too might trigger an explosive. 

"What should I do, sir?" the soldier asked desperately. 

"Don't move! I order you not to take another step while I figure something out!" the officer replied, equally stricken. 

But he had no time to act. Another soldier had already stepped on a mine. 

A deafening explosion shattered the silence, sending shrapnel tearing through the unlucky victim and alerting the Germans to the British presence. 

One detonation after another followed, scattering chaos through the advancing ranks. The immediate casualties were less significant than the tactical disaster—their ambush had been compromised. Now exposed, they were at the mercy of the German defenses. 

"Damn it, mines!" General Haig's face darkened as he realized the calamity unfolding. 

With the explosions, the German forces were roused. Alert and disciplined, they grabbed their weapons and took up their battle stations. Mortars fired flares into the sky, flooding the battlefield with harsh white light that illuminated the advancing British troops, rendering them vulnerable. 

"Fire!" the German commander ordered. 

Gunfire erupted as machine guns unleashed torrents of bullets, their orange flashes lighting up the night. The hail of lead tore through the British soldiers, cutting down scores of men in an instant. 

"Charge! Push forward!" British officers shouted, urging their men onward. With the element of surprise lost, retreat was no option; turning back would only expose their ranks to even greater slaughter. 

"For the British Empire, charge!" 

Under a storm of bullets, British troops pressed forward, but they were met with relentless machine-gun fire, mortar shells, and rifle volleys from the German lines. 

Meanwhile, German artillery onshore unleashed a barrage from 75mm field guns and 105mm howitzers. Though larger-caliber guns remained silent to avoid friendly fire, the existing firepower was more than enough to wreak havoc on the British forces. 

From the sea, German warships added their smaller-caliber guns to the fray. Though their larger naval cannons were reserved, the combined barrage created an inferno that turned the British assault into a bloodbath.