Chapter 59

Amiens – After-Action Review

Boom!

BOOM!!

The shockwaves rattled the roof.

One by one, the dim lamps flickered out.

Old buildings began to collapse.

What awaited the German forces remaining in Moherui was an unrelenting barrage of artillery shells.

“How… how can this be possible?”

The commander of the 185th Regiment paced back and forth, muttering a question no one could answer, ignoring the tremors.

The offensive launched by the stormtroopers and the 1st Battalion to retake the Moherui forest had ended in catastrophic failure.

The enemy had prepared their defenses meticulously, and without proper artillery support, the sons of Germany were forced to return in miserable condition.

And those who couldn’t even return in such a state—

had become corpses in the forest, their flesh destined to be torn apart by insects and beasts.

As if to assist their comrades in the forest, American artillery began firing like it was possessed, relentlessly pounding Moherui. German artillery was vastly inferior in both firepower and scale, rendering it nearly useless.

To make matters worse, the troops remaining in Moherui were far from intact.

“What’s the condition of the men?”

“A large number are suffering from severe abdominal pain, diarrhea, and vomiting. I’m sorry, but… this regiment is nothing more than a giant infirmary right now.”

It was only natural.

Men who had once considered even turnips a luxury had suddenly stuffed themselves with greasy meat and sweet alcohol.

Retreat?

Impossible.

Though they were only partially encircled for now, even a newly commissioned lieutenant could tell that the moment they attempted to withdraw, American forces would strike from the front and flanks.

“What are your orders?”

The staff officers in the room turned the question back on him.

Everyone already knew the answer.

And they were forcing him to say it.

He felt an overwhelming urge to shoot every last one of those damned staff officers—but wasn’t a commander’s role defined by decision and responsibility?

He had already become a foolish commander who had been deceived by the enemy.

He refused to earn the additional title of a butcher who wasted his soldiers’ lives meaninglessly.

“…Send… a messenger… to the enemy.”

“Will you draft a letter?”

“No need… Prepare a white flag. Tell the messenger to inform them we urgently require medical assistance.”

They couldn’t even last another night in Moherui.

If so, then at the very least, it was an officer’s duty to ensure his men could be treated by doctors.

Though they were fools who had disobeyed control and run wild, ruining everything—

it was the duty of a Prussian Junker to guide such fools onto the right path.

The moment he lost control of his men upon entering this city, he had also lost any value of his own existence.

After all his subordinates left, he slowly took out his tobacco pouch and packed his pipe.

Lighting it, he took a long drag.

The pounding of his heart calmed, like a horse finally finding its master.

Even at the very end, French tobacco tasted damnably good—far better than German.

Still, compared to French goods, there was at least one German-made item that was superior—

and he still possessed it, even now as a ruined man.

The regimental commander drew his Luger and pressed it to his head.

The warmth in his mouth and the cold steel at his temple created a strange harmony.

And this—

was the last sensation he would ever feel.

Bang!

***

I thought I was going to die.

I genuinely thought this was the end.

I’m not expecting a retry in life if I die this time. Even if there is a third run, who knows—I might end up in an even worse hell difficulty. At that point, I’d probably just kill myself for real.

We seized as many documents as possible from the 208th Division headquarters and sent them to the rear, then immediately began mopping up the remaining enemy forces.

The 6th Reserve Dragoon Regiment also got caught off guard and scattered when tanks suddenly came charging at them from behind—

but the 25th Regiment, having lost contact with multiple units all at once, seemed to sense something and remained on high alert.

We’d hit an unexpected jackpot, but I still had my sanity.

Wasn’t losing that sanity exactly what had doomed Groddeck and the 208th Division?

An average person learns from their own failures.

A smart person learns from others’ failures.

I had no intention of making the same mistake.

As we turned this entire sector into chaos, the Germans launched their counterattack as if they had been waiting for it.

Another two days.

Honestly, I don’t even know how many times I nearly died during those two days.

We split the tanks into company-sized units and desperately plugged every gap, while the Rangers—handpicked elite volunteers—fought brilliantly, proving their worth.

Van Fleet’s 371st Regiment also rushed in and held the new line firmly.

By the time my beloved vehicle was riddled with bullet holes and I’d complained to Haji more times than I could count that I couldn’t keep this up—

the 370th Regiment advanced and joined the new line, and the 369th Regiment completed prisoner transport and reorganization.

With all available forces of the 93rd Division now in place, we established proper defensive positions and trench lines, stabilizing the front.

With that, my counteroffensive in this sector came to an end.

The results were certainly rewarding—

but even so, the German Imperial Army was still the strongest force of this era.

We had effectively wiped out an entire division, yet they still managed to find a weak point and nearly encircled me in return.

If we hadn’t failed to finish off the 25th Regiment, that snowball wouldn’t have grown this large.

Of course, limited mobility played a role—but the enemy suffered from the same constraint.

Still, the end of my operation didn’t mean the end of the war.

The moment General Nollet of the 36th Corps heard the insane battle report from our 93rd Division, he immediately realized it was time to counterattack.

Gathering all available forces, he launched a coordinated offensive across the entire front.

They somehow managed to fill the gap left by a destroyed division, but from the start, they had already lost the initiative—and their response was a hasty patchwork.

Against a corps-level—no, army-level—blow like this, even the Germans had no answer.

They abandoned further attempts to advance and dug in.

We did it.

The enemy spearhead aiming for Amiens had effectively been crushed, and we had achieved a brilliant victory.

And thus, the great history of Yujin Kim took another step forward—

“What do you mean we did it? We almost got ourselves killed.”

Haji, who had nearly died alongside me thanks to having the misfortune of serving under me, let out a deep sigh.

“Just look at this. Look at the bullet holes in the car. Honestly, it’s a miracle none of us died.”

“Main characters don’t die.”

“I’m not the main character, though.”

“Hey now. You’re the main character of your own life.”

“The soldiers who died were all main characters too. Try not to live so recklessly, seriously.”

The bullet marks were… impressively neat. It was honestly a miracle the door hadn’t been pierced—they were packed tightly together.

“Doesn’t it look like a flower pattern?”

“…It does.”

Watching the driver and Haji shiver as they stared at the marks, even I had to admit—it really did look like a floral pattern.

Maybe because they said it first.

“A lotus?”

“I was thinking chrysanthemum, but now that you mention it… yeah. A black lotus…”

“That’s a good name. I’ll use it for my ride.”

Black Lotus. Somehow it sounded expensive and insanely strong. My materialistic instincts were tingling.

“Anyway, what matters right now isn’t the car’s name. You need to attend the meeting.”

“I don’t want to go in.”

“Don’t say that so proudly!”

Hmm. I could practically see Haji’s respect for me plummeting again.

Guess I couldn’t stall any longer.

Carrying the prepared documents, I entered the 36th Corps headquarters where they were waiting for me.

Clap clap clap clap!!!

“Welcome, Hero of Amiens!”

Major General Nollet beamed like a man finally relieved after ten days of constipation, grabbing my shoulders enthusiastically.

“Sit, sit! Everyone here has been dying to meet the great hero!”

“Haha… thank you.”

“To be honest, when I first met you, I was nervous! I thought—what if you launch a reckless attack and only boost German morale?”

He suddenly picked up the marker representing the 208th Division on the situation map—

and casually tossed it to the floor.

“But what the hell—there was an enemy, and now there isn’t! You’re a genius! Damn it! Did Napoleon visit you in a dream or something?!”

“You’re too kind.”

“A hero deserves proper recognition! The pressure on Amiens has completely vanished! You stabbed Ludendorff’s filthy hand right through!”

True to his French nature, his excitement only grew as he spoke, pacing around the map and moving pieces here and there.

The other generals present were all grinning, eagerly agreeing with him.

“Ludendorff—that bastard—is probably at home crying while clutching a Kaiser doll! Who would’ve thought his all-in gamble would end like this? The best they can do now is hold the line. At least here!”

“They’ll probably continue their offensive somewhere else—but that’s not our problem. It’s over. On this front, the Germans are finished!”

His rapid-fire speech was a bit much for my French, but since half of it was colorful profanity, it wasn’t hard to follow.

After all, nothing’s easier to understand than swearing—except body language.

At some point, Nollet even started dancing on his own before suddenly grabbing both my arms and dragging me into a full-on waltz.

Honestly, it was fun.

***

“UAAAAAAARGH!!!”

Crash! BOOM! Smash! Thud!

The moment Erich Ludendorff, First Quartermaster General of the German Army, received the report from Amiens, he began hurling everything in sight.

“GRODDECK!! GRODDEEECK!! My division! My plan! You’ve ruined the Empire! The Empire’s last chance—ruined by the likes of you!!”

“Please do not enter. The First Quartermaster General is not in a state to receive reports.”

“Ah, here we go again. Send me a memo once his fit is over—I have something that needs reporting today.”

“Understood.”

“AAAAARGH!!! This makes no sense! My plan was perfect!”

Thud! BOOM!! Crash! Clatter!

Ludendorff vented his fury entirely on Groddeck—

but the younger officers thought otherwise.

This was a disaster foretold by human error.

Of course, losing an entire division in an instant was an inexcusable failure.

But wasn’t Ludendorff himself the one who had pushed this offensive so aggressively?

Hadn’t he ordered them to reach Amiens by any means necessary?

So why was he so quick to shift the blame?

Unaware—or perhaps indifferent—to the doubts of his subordinates, Ludendorff eventually calmed down and leaned back into his chair, surveying the wrecked office.

After about a minute of silence, aides and clerks rushed in to clean up.

A familiar routine.

“Yujin Kim? Never heard of him… Cambrai. Was that him?”

…So the monster survived.

Ludendorff muttered hoarsely.

At Cambrai, the American tank unit had supposedly been annihilated by Germany’s proud forces.

But according to later Anglo-American reports, that unit had not been destroyed—it had broken through the battlefield, leading volunteers and Tommies with it.

“The Hero of Cambrai.”

At first, he had dismissed it as fabricated propaganda to cover up defeat.

But he had been wrong.

This wasn’t fabrication—it was something straight out of a medieval epic.

Like a hero who returns stronger after defeat, this Asian named Yujin Kim had come back leading even more men—

and struck the Empire square in the gut.

With the divisional headquarters wiped out, they still couldn’t even determine exactly what had happened to make the 208th Division vanish so suddenly.

It would take days to gather survivors and piece together the truth.

Amiens was lost.

The German Army would never be able to touch Amiens again.

Because the wicked devil guarding it had shattered the Empire’s final blade.

“…Then what remains… is Georgette.”

“Sir?”

“Convene the High Command. Since Amiens is no longer viable, Flanders is our only option.”

They could not break yet.

If they paused now, the Empire would be beyond saving.

Peace negotiations?

Absurd.

That would mean surrendering all occupied territory.

That was unacceptable.

“Not yet… not yet. There’s still hope…”

Ludendorff’s obsession still burned fiercely.