HBWnovel Chapter 1 - 1: The Awakening in a Foreign Past
Chapter 1 - 1: The Awakening in a Foreign Past
April 1934, Verdun, France
The first thing he felt was pain. A dull, insistent pressure in his skull, as if a vise were squeezing his head.
His body ached like he had been thrown into a trench and left for dead..
His breath came slow and ragged, his mind groggy and disoriented.
Then came the smell, a strange mix of cigarette smoke, damp wool, gun oil, and leather.
Where the hell am I?
His eyes fluttered open. This was not his apartment.
Not his bed.
The ceiling was old and wooden, the walls made of rough stone.
The window on the far side of the room had iron bars over it.
A military-style cot creaked as he tried to move.
A bolt of panic shot through his chest. This wasn't normal.
He forced himself up, ignoring the nausea rolling through him.
The room was small spartan and utilitarian. A wooden chair, a metal helmet resting on a desk cluttered with maps and documents, and a long rifle propped against the wall.
His eyes locked onto a uniform draped over the back of the chair.
Dark blue wool. Gold epaulettes. Military insignia.
His hands trembled as he reached for the papers stacked neatly on the desk.
His vision swam for a moment, then focused.
A military identification card.
His fingers tightened around the thick paper, his heart pounding.
The name at the top made his breath hitch.
"Capitaine Étienne Moreau, 2ème Division Blindée, Armée Française."
His own name. His own handwriting on the documents. But the date...
"Avril 1934."
His fingers went cold. April 1934.
That wasn't possible.
He had gone to sleep in 2025. His last memory was… what?
He tried to recall the details.
He wasn't a soldier anymore.
He had been a military historian, a professor at the École Militaire, a re
"What's the briefing about?" he asked, flipping open the folder.
Renaud exhaled smoke, leaning against the doorframe. "Routine drill reports. Colonel Perrin wants an update on our tank exercises."
His pulse quickened. Tank exercises.
In 1934, France had tanks but they didn't know how to use them properly.
The 2nd Armored Division was one of the few experimenting with mechanized warfare, but the High Command still viewed tanks as infantry support weapons, not independent strike forces.
This was his chance.
"You seem interested all of a sudden," Renaud observed, crossing his arms.
He tapped a finger against the desk. "I've been thinking," he said slowly, testing the waters.
"We should start training our crews differently. Less like artillery units, more like maneuverable strike forces."
Renaud gave him a strange look. "Merde, you sound like De Gaulle."
His breath caught.
De Gaulle.
In 1934, Charles de Gaulle was a relatively unknown officer, but he was already advocating for modern armored warfare.
The French High Command ignored him.
If he could get people to listen earlier, maybe just maybe he could change things.
Renaud sighed. "Look, you know how Perrin is. He'll have our heads if we try to shake things up too much."
He met Renaud's gaze. "And what if Perrin's wrong?"
Renaud blinked. "What?"
He straightened his uniform, ignoring the pounding in his skull. "What if everything we know about modern warfare is wrong?"
Renaud stared at him for a long moment.
Then he shook his head with a chuckle.
"Merde. Maybe that headache knocked something loose in your brain."
He glanced at his watch. "Come on, Capitaine. If we're late, Perrin will make us clean the tank garages for a week."
He nodded and followed him out into the crisp morning air.
One step at a time. One battle at a time.
If he played this right, maybe France wouldn't have to fall in 1940.
Maybe he could rewrite history.