I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start

Chapter 298: That's Charles

Gunfire echoed across the Gallipoli Peninsula, while the distant town of Bolayir at the far end of Saros Bay lay shrouded in smoke and flames. With most civilians having evacuated due to the fighting, only soldiers, supply units, and wounded from the front lines passed through.

General Otto Liman von Sanders, commander of the Ottoman Empire's Fifth Army, had his command post stationed here in a small house hidden within a mountain hollow for cover against bombardment.

(Image: Liman von Sanders, German general and military advisor to the Ottoman Empire, commander of the Fifth Army)

Standing at his desk, von Sanders studied the map in silence, his expression tense. Until now, the Ottoman forces had maintained a precarious balance against the Allies. But with the sinking of U-21, the Allied battleships could support their landing troops with impunity, tipping the scales once more in their favor.

"We cannot lose," von Sanders murmured to himself. "If the Dardanelles falls, the war will end in our defeat."

But what options remained?

Von Sanders turned over several strategies in his mind:

Torpedo boats?

No, they could only launch surprise attacks at night, which would barely disrupt the Allies' advances—they mostly attacked during the day and set up barbed wire defenses by night.

Submarines?

Only five small submarines remained, with limited range, capable of operations only in the Sea of Marmara and the straits. They had neither the reach nor the power to target Allied battleships in the Aegean Sea.

That left only one option…

Von Sanders issued orders to his staff officer: "Divide the troops into two groups—one to harass the enemy at night, and the other to engage during the day!"

"Yes, sir!" The officer acknowledged the command and left to convey the orders.

Within half an hour, Colonel Bahar, the commander of the Ottoman 20th Division, burst into the command post. Having studied in Germany, Colonel Bahar spoke hesitant German, yet his tone was resolute: "General, I must protest. This order is unwise. This is our land—we know it well. I believe our best tactic is to harass the enemy by day and attack at night!"

"Is that so?" von Sanders replied calmly. "Then tell me, how have your nighttime attacks fared recently?"

Colonel Bahar fell silent. The Allies, with their overwhelming firepower, had entrenched themselves behind trenches and barbed wire, mowing down any advancing Ottoman soldiers with machine gun fire. The front lines had become littered with the bodies of Ottoman soldiers, many of them decomposing, yet too numerous to be cleared away.

After a pause, Bahar replied, "Even so, we can't launch daytime attacks. Their naval guns would devastate our troops…"

"Exactly," von Sanders interrupted, "and it's because of their battleships that I've ordered daytime operations."

Bahar looked at von Sanders in disbelief. Wouldn't this tactic merely send the Ottoman soldiers to their deaths?

Instead of answering, von Sanders countered with a question: "Tell me, Colonel, what's the state of your defenses on the heights?"

"The trees have been flattened," Bahar replied. "Every night, we repair our defenses, only for their shells to destroy them the next morning. Even the soil has been churned into loose sand."

Von Sanders said nothing, merely holding Bahar's gaze.

At last, Bahar began to understand. Even during the day, the high ground had proven indefensible, as the enemy battleships could simply rain shells down, obliterating the defenses. And as the war dragged on, this would only worsen.

"Of course," von Sanders finally added, "when I say 'attack,' I don't mean to order a full charge on enemy positions."

He continued, "Instead, spread out, construct defensive works closer to the enemy, four hundred or even three hundred meters if possible. Close enough that the enemy battleships can't risk shelling you without hitting their own men. Do you understand?"

The plan dawned on Bahar. Naval gunfire was notoriously inaccurate—shells often strayed miles from their intended target. If the Ottoman troops could set up fortifications close to the Allied lines, the Allied battleships would have to hold their fire, wary of striking their own forces.

"Yes, General!" Bahar nodded.

"One more thing," von Sanders said, stopping Bahar as he turned to leave. "You are now the commander of the Third Corps."

Stunned, Bahar stood speechless. He had long assumed that his frequent disagreements with von Sanders meant that the two men disliked each other.

"Don't get me wrong," von Sanders added, noting Bahar's reaction. "I still don't like you. But this is war, and you are the right man to lead the Third Corps."

Bahar nodded, saluting with renewed respect. Von Sanders watched him go, nodding with quiet approval. Bahar was undoubtedly a skilled soldier. Time and again, he had personally led his men in fierce engagements, once holding off an 8,000-strong Allied force with just 500 men. Now, the front needed commanders who led from the front.

...

Returning to the front lines, Bahar swiftly reorganized his forces. Instead of clustering around the hills, his soldiers dispersed, hiding in small, seemingly random groups. While no clear defensive line could be seen, they would strike from hidden positions the moment the Allies advanced.

"This must be what von Sanders had in mind," Bahar remarked to his officers. "Make it impossible for the enemy's battleships to find a target while keeping their infantry in our sights."

This tactic would demand high discipline; spread-out soldiers, unwatched by officers, might easily slack off. But Bahar had confidence in his men. They were defending their homeland, and he knew their resolve would not falter.

With the plan in motion, Bahar sent a detailed map of his troop placements back to von Sanders.

...

Studying the map, von Sanders nodded with satisfaction. Bahar had been the right choice; he had understood the intent perfectly and carried out the orders with precision.

But…

Could this truly hold back the Allied advance?

After all, they were up against Charles. Charles, who always managed to deliver an unexpected and devastating blow!

As if on cue, a series of deafening explosions shook the ground, causing dust and bits of debris to rain down from the ceiling. Recognizing the sound, von Sanders's expression tightened—these were heavy naval guns, and more than a few.

The Allies wouldn't be unleashing such firepower unless they were preparing to land troops.

Could Charles really have chosen to land here?

How could he dare?

Impossible!

And yet, reality soon dispelled any doubts:

Shells rained down on Bolayir, one barrage following another in a relentless rhythm, engulfing the town in flashes of flame and thick smoke. The ground seemed on the verge of being torn apart, shaking with every explosion. Houses crumbled like fragile porcelain, and screams were swallowed by the roar of naval artillery.

A panicked officer rushed up to von Sanders, shouting over the din, "General, the enemy fleet has entered Saros Bay! They're landing to the northwest!"

Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.

Read 20 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/Franklin1