Returning to his quarters, Charles imdiately set to work sketching the first design for what would beco the French Adrian helt.
The story behind the helt was sowhat legendary: during a fierce German artillery barrage, a French cook had flipped his tal pot over his head and miraculously survived with only minor injuries, while others around him had been gravely wounded by shrapnel and rocks. General Adrian, upon hearing this story, was inspired to develop a tal helt for soldiers, hence the na "Adrian helt" for the French Army's iconic headgear. (The image shows the original Adrian helt, widely regarded as the ancestor of modern military helts.)
…
Naturally, Charles planned to hand this new helt contract over to Steed. After all, Charles barely needed to lift a finger—simply offering ideas, leaving Steed to handle production while he collected half the profits. It was practically as if Steed was working for Charles at this point.
That evening, they t for dinner, not in a conference room but in the opulent dining room of the Ritz, with Dominique in attendance as well. Steed took the head of the table, with Charles and Dominique seated opposite each other. Under the glow of pristine chandeliers, the white tablecloth glistened, and the expansive room was illuminated as brightly as day.
"This dinner is in honor of your triumph, Colonel!" Steed toasted, admiration shining in his eyes as he looked at Charles.
For Steed, Charles's courage was genuinely impressive. He understood that the wealthy and the underprivileged faced starkly different choices. Those with little to lose might go to war seeking fortune or a way out of hardship. The wealthy, however, with all the comfort and security waiting for them, rarely risked it all by choosing the frontlines. Charles, having every reason to stay far from harm, had volunteered for the very place most feared to tread.
Noticing Charles glancing warily at the waitstaff lining the walls, Steed reassured him, "Rest assured, Colonel, every staff mber here is on my payroll."
Charles was pleased with the arrangent, though his attention soon shifted to the food: steak, red wine, caviar, and a fruit selection. Charles couldn't help but feel let down by the grand spread—it was still the sa fare he'd seen among France's wealthy. The rich loved the finer details, specifying their beef as Australian ribeye, the vintage of the wine, and the exact species of caviar. Yet for Charles, such luxuries seed exaggerated; he could tell the difference but didn't see the need for all the pomp.
Dominique leaned forward, filling Charles's glass and, with a hint of skepticism, asked, "Is it true what they say? That you fought on the battlefield, rifle in hand?"
"Yes," Charles replied with a nod. "I had no choice. We were critically short on manpower, and without my rifle, we would've been hard-pressed to hold the line."
Steed, raising his glass, offered a toast, "To courage, Colonel!"
But Charles felt differently. Frontline combat had beco commonplace as the war dragged on, though less than a year had passed since its start.
Dominique's expression grew complex. Carefully, he asked, "What's it like, Colonel?"
The question caught Charles off guard. At first, he wasn't sure what Dominique ant. Then he realized: Dominique loved firearms, but he would likely never experience a battlefield himself. He'd never have to aim at a living target, much less pull the trigger.
"It's not sothing you'd enjoy," Charles replied, his face impassive. "If you're close enough, you can see the pain in their eyes as life leaves them. You feel it yourself. You can't help but wonder what it would be like if you were the one shot. You even…"
"Feel like a monster," Dominique finished for him.
"Yes," Charles agreed.
Since returning from the front, Charles felt his outlook shifting. It wasn't about enduring hardship but rather about facing the reality of taking lives, even enemy lives. Having crossed that line changed him in ways he couldn't ignore. He had beco deeply aware of life's fragility, and things he might once have found cruel now seed trivial.
Steed, catching Dominique's thoughtful gaze, gave a knowing smile and said, "People never expected the Colonel to take such a risk, and now they can't find fault in him. Even the politicians can't criticize his bravery."
For Steed, Charles's actions presented an enormous business opportunity. Here was a man who had fought while parliantarians and capitalists stayed safe behind the lines. Going forward, if the military faced debate over which supplier to trust, Steed knew that Charles's combat experience would be invaluable. He could advertise: Charles has been to the battlefield; he understands war and knows what soldiers need.
After dinner, Charles reached into his bag, pulled out his sketches of the helt design, and passed them to Steed. "We can begin with a trial run of about ten thousand helts."
He had set the initial order at ten thousand for a reason. Units were large in this period; a single division comprised two brigades and four regints, totaling over ten thousand n. By producing just ten thousand helts, only so soldiers would receive them, allowing for a clear comparison. The soldiers would fight in the sa conditions, facing similar artillery barrages. If helt-wearers had lower casualty rates, the results would speak for themselves.
Initially, Steed had dismissed the design as just another helt. But as realization dawned on him, his eyes widened, and he looked up at Charles.
"So, if this works, you're saying it could beco standard issue for the entire army?"
"Precisely," Charles replied calmly.
Steed's face lit up with excitent. This was a massive business opportunity. The French army numbered in the millions, aning a demand for millions of helts. And helts were consumables; they could be lost, damaged, or rusted on the battlefield, while every new recruit would need one. The total would far exceed a re million units.
"We'll have to be careful," Charles warned. "If the initial batch isn't popular or doesn't work, you know what that could an."
"Of course, Colonel!" Steed replied eagerly. "Rest assured, I'll make sure they're done right."
After a brief pause, Steed added thoughtfully, "We should prioritize strength while keeping them as lightweight as possible. High-strength steel would be ideal."
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