November 9, 1918. The Western Front of the First World War.
An urgent telegram from the General Headquarters of the German Western Front arrived in the hands of Crown Prince Wilhelm, commander of Army Group B.
The message was brief: Kaiser Wilhelm II of the German Second Empire had announced his abdication today at the German headquarters on the Belgian front.
The German Second Empire had fallen.
After reading the telegram, Crown Prince Wilhelm let out a sigh.
What was destined to come had finally arrived.
With the Ottoman Empire, Bulgaria, and Austria-Hungary surrendering and collapsing, coupled with the growing wave of worker uprisings and soldier mutinies back home, the defeat and downfall of the Second Empire was all but sealed.
Yet when that moment finally came, it still filled everyone with deep regret.
The Second Empire had once been so mighty, holding its own against Britain, France, and Russia single‑handedly.
Had it not been for scarce resources, incompetent allies, and the late entry of the United States, the outcome of the Great War would have been anyone’s guess.
But dwelling on that now was pointless. The Second Empire was already history. It was time to build a far stronger Third Empire atop its ruins!
As the first in line to the throne, Crown Prince Wilhelm should have followed the Kaiser’s example and fled to the Netherlands with the rest of the royal family to seek refuge.
Yet history played a small trick here. The soul of a transmigrator, crossing over a hundred years through time and space, replaced the original Crown Prince Wilhelm.
"Your Highness, should we follow General Headquarters’ orders and pull back, giving up our positions?" asked General Hermann Kuhl, Chief of Staff of Army Group B, after reading the telegram. He sounded hesitant.
Listening to the thunder of artillery rolling in from the battlefield, and looking at the endless stream of distress calls flooding in from the front lines, Crown Prince Wilhelm took a deep breath and said in a firm voice:
"Right behind us lies the German Empire. If we retreat, the enemy’s iron boots will trample our homeland. Are you really willing to hand over the sacred soil of Germany to the enemy just like that?!"
The command tent fell silent. The men’s faces were racked with inner struggle.
Seeing their hesitation, Wilhelm’s tone turned resolute and decisive:
"Send a message to the entire nation! I will defend the Empire’s territory to my dying breath. Until I fall, not one single invader shall set foot on our land!"
"Soldiers! Will you follow me to defend our motherland?!"
As if ignited by the Crown Prince’s speech and his unyielding determination to fight the invaders, the dazed staff officers and commanders began to flush with excitement. They had found their backbone again.
"We will follow His Highness to the death!" they roared in unison.
Wilhelm nodded in satisfaction. It seemed his usual rapport with the men had paid off.
With the Kaiser on the run, his title as Crown Prince was now worthless.
If he wanted to secure a foothold in postwar Germany, he had to start building his prestige now!
The German Empire valued military merit above all else. Nothing carried more weight than battlefield achievements!
While the Empire faced defeat, the Kaiser had fled, and the homeland was engulfed in chaos and panic;
while the front‑line troops were demoralized, thinking only of retreat or even surrender;
a man swimming against the current like him was most likely to become a national hero and the people’s savior. If he could win a few victories on the front lines, he would reap immense prestige!
This was the very foundation upon which he would survive—and even rise again—amid the postwar turmoil!
Of course, the reason he dared to make such a bold decision was simple: he was not facing the British or the French, but the relatively weak American Expeditionary Forces.
He had no guts to take on the battle‑hardened British or French, but the Americans?
Not only did he have the guts—he had plenty of them!
...
Just as Crown Prince Wilhelm was sharpening his blade, ready to give the Americans a proper thrashing, the Americans were also urging their front‑line troops to launch fierce assaults against the German positions.
When the Entente learned that the Kaiser had issued his abdication decree, that the German army was on the verge of surrender, and that the Great War was about to end, British and French soldiers on the Western Front celebrated with relief.
Having endured the meat grinders of Verdun, the Somme, and the Spring Offensive, the British and French troops—who had suffered staggering casualties—were thoroughly war‑weary. They couldn’t wait for the war to be over.
Only the newly arrived Americans, who had yet to take a real beating, were seething with frustration.
Since declaring war in 1917, flush with cash, the Americans had taken less than a year to expand their army.
From a mere 130,000 men, they had ballooned into a massive force of 70 divisions, over 4 million strong.
But just as they finished this massive expansion, before they could even throw their troops into the fight, the enemy was about to surrender?
What would become of the millions of newly raised troops?
What about the millions of young men mobilized for the war effort, and the factories across the country running at full tilt?
The Americans had joined the war to pick the fruits of victory. But just as they reached out their hands, the fruit tree was cut down before they could grab a single peach!
For the Americans, who had yet to reap sufficient gains, an immediate armistice did not fully serve their interests.
Thus, in September, General John J. Pershing, commander of the American Expeditionary Forces, took personal command. He threw dozens of divisions—roughly 1.2 million men—into a massive offensive against the German lines.
Their primary target was the Meuse‑Argonne sector, where Crown Prince Wilhelm and his Army Group B were entrenched. Hence, the battle was named the Meuse‑Argonne Offensive.
The Americans were ambitious, confident that their overwhelming numbers and firepower would easily crush the Germans.
But once the fighting began, the reality on the front lines was far from their expectations.
The U.S. Army’s bloated organizational structure, over‑reliance on heavy firepower, and neglect of mobility led to dismal performance in actual combat.
They were frequently outmaneuvered by smaller, more flexible, and far more experienced German units, resulting in lopsided casualty ratios.
The American reliance on artillery and heavy firepower failed to deliver due to poor communication and coordination.
On the other hand, their own rigid infantry tactics and terrible mobility bogged down their attacks. Their troops often became sitting ducks for German artillery and machine‑gunners.
Before they could even reach the enemy trenches, they suffered heavy casualties under long‑range German fire.
After just a month and a half of fighting, American casualties had already climbed to 150,000.
And for all those losses, the only gain was pushing the front line forward by a mere nine kilometers!
That pace was even slower than the Russo‑Ukrainian War a century later!
Such staggering losses and meager gains left the British and French—who had pinned high hopes on the American offensive—deeply disappointed.
It also humiliated the Americans. Determined to save face, they decided to throw even more troops into the meat grinder.