The next day, Charles was due back at headquarters for duty, though he'd hoped to linger in bed a bit longer. Since arriving in this world, he'd been juggling the roles of military advisor and capitalist, with little true rest, constantly occupied with either battlefield strategies or business ventures. He yearned to steal a mont's laziness, to burrow into the warm covers on this chilly autumn day and indulge in a long, uninterrupted sleep.
But Camille knocked gently at his door, her voice soft but clear. "Charles, Major Laurent has been waiting downstairs for half an hour now."
"I'll be right there, Mother," Charles sighed, slipping out of bed.
The sky was overcast, the rain wavering between a drizzle and silence, casting a gloomy pall over the morning. Cold gusts of wind found their way through the gaps of the T-model car, making Charles shiver and pull his coat tighter around himself.
As he steered the car, Major Laurent remarked, "Perhaps soon we won't need to avoid the crowds, Lieutenant."
"Oh?" Charles raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that? Have my fans abandoned ?"
"Not quite," Laurent chuckled. "It's because sothing else has captured their attention. Everyone's curious about where the Spee fleet is or where the next naval battle might take place. So…"
Charles nodded in understanding. With the land warfront temporarily stable, no side was able to break through the stalemate. Naturally, everyone's focus shifted to the seas, wondering if the German Navy might open a new front and disrupt British support for France. anwhile, the Allies hoped to stamp out the erging German naval forces and perhaps use their own sea power to resolve the land deadlock. For now, it seed, attention had turned to the waves, which was a relief to Charles. It ant one less concern on his plate.
Sure enough, once they arrived in Paris, only small clusters of people greeted Charles with enthusiastic waves and cheers—a stark contrast to the usual throngs. He couldn't help but think, Spee really is a good fellow, a true man of self-sacrifice!
To Charles' surprise, the mont he stepped into headquarters, the staff erupted into cheers.
"Congratulations, Major Charles!"
"Salute to Major Charles!"
"Congratulations, Major!"
"Major?" Charles looked at them in confusion.
Colonel Fernand gave him a hearty push toward General Gallieni, saying, "Co on, Charles! Your promotion was approved just yesterday!"
General Gallieni handed him a stack of docunts with a warm smile. "Your uniform is ready, and so mbers of the First Flying Battalion were promoted alongside you. Look through these files and let know if there's anything else we need to address."
"Yes, sir!" Charles replied smartly, accepting the papers.
It turned out that the new Flying Battalion had been filled with fresh recruits, all junior lieutenants, which made command challenging. Gallieni had thus decided to promote Charles, the unit's captain, to major, while Carter, his second-in-command, would beco a captain as well. Several lieutenants were also appointed as squadron leaders, creating a clearer chain of command.
Back in the barracks, Charles changed into his new major's uniform, not even bothering with the mirror this ti—he was already used to it. When he returned to the office, his colleagues greeted him with a round of congratulations, and so joked:
"Next month, it'll be colonel, won't it?"
"So of us take years for each promotion, one grade at a ti. Charles seems to get promoted every month, two grades at a ti!"
"Won't be long before he's a general, will it?"
Journalist Cobodo snapped a few photos, undoubtedly preparing tomorrow's rit Report headline: Charles promoted to major. The article would probably feature a comntary noting that Charles was perhaps France's fastest-rising and youngest officer, though many would argue he was advancing too slowly...
Charles could only hope Cobodo wouldn't refocus the public's attention on him so soon.
General Gallieni nodded at Charles, motioning him to follow into the adjacent office. Charles understood, following and closing the door behind him.
"Have you ever heard of Boulanger?" Gallieni asked from his chair, his tone casual.
"No, sir," Charles replied. "Can't say that I have."
"An incident from over twenty years ago—before you were born," Gallieni replied, summarizing. "Boulanger was a general, a hero with a record of service and injuries in battle. He gained significant public support, eventually stepping into politics and even securing overwhelming votes in parliant. However, he was eventually discredited by scandal and ultimately took his own life."
Gallieni's tone remained steady, as though recounting so trivial mory. Charles at first dismissed it as such, but in ti, he would learn that Boulanger's rise held parallels to his own.
After Boulanger entered politics, he implented a series of reforms: improving soldiers' rations, allowing them to keep beards, supporting workers' strikes, and eliminating noble privileges, winning passionate public support. When he was removed from his post as Minister of War through underhanded ans, nearly 150,000 citizens crowded the train station to see him off, shouting:
"You can't leave us!"
"You are our hope!"
"France needs you, Monsieur Boulanger!"
However, his opponents were the capitalists, skilled at uncovering and publicizing any unflattering details of an adversary, ultimately leading to disgrace and downfall.
Though Charles didn't know all the specifics, he understood that Gallieni was subtly warning him not to be blinded by public approval, ignoring the hidden dangers posed by his adversaries.
"I understand, General," Charles replied. "I'll be careful in my conduct."
In this world, double standards ran deep. Even a scandal involving the powerful was often quietly resolved, while a single misstep could spell disaster for ordinary n, bringing ruin and even death. Although Charles was a capitalist, against Schneider, he was just another regular person—one who couldn't afford to make mistakes.
Pleased, Gallieni nodded, then asked, "Another question, Major. Have you heard that the Germans are developing tanks?"
"German tanks?" Charles was taken aback, imdiately thinking of the A7V.
"Yes," Gallieni confird, a note of worry in his voice. "But the information is unconfird; it ca from the capitalist sector."
This wasn't unusual. Industrialists were often quicker to pick up on such developnts, even more so than the military or governnt.
"The word is…" Gallieni's brow furrowed. "The German tanks are being designed to counter your Mark I, and they intend to arm them with artillery. Are you sure you still don't want to mount artillery on ours?"
Charles replied without hesitation, "No, sir, I still believe it's unnecessary."
With the Renault tank in developnt, there was even less reason to arm the Mark I with heavy artillery.
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 15 Chapters In Advance: patreon/Franklin1
User Comments
0 comments from readers