"Artillery?" Tijani chuckled, shaking his head. "Are you joking? It's clearly a tank…"
But before he could finish, Tijani realized what Charles was getting at, his smile freezing in place. If it didn't work well as a tank, then why not use it as artillery?
Charles continued, "The artillery can stay at the back of the line, General. With an 8-kiloter range, it can advance from a safe distance, trailing behind the front."
Tijani slowly nodded, "That way, its poor mobility won't be as much of an issue."
The "Saint-Chamond" only got stuck in small craters when advancing like a tank. From 8 kiloters back, it would have ample ti to maneuver around obstacles.
Charles nodded and added, "We could also remove the machine guns."
Tijani's eyes widened. "Without the four machine guns and the crew for them, it'd not only be lighter but also gain a lot of space!"
"Exactly, General," Charles replied. "Instead of focusing on its drawbacks, think about the advantages it would bring as an artillery replacent."
With Charles's prompting, Tijani began comparing the "Saint-Chamond" to traditional artillery. The differences were imdiately clear. Tijani looked at Charles in surprise and said, almost questioningly, "The 'Saint-Chamond' is self-propelled, so it wouldn't need to be constantly re-mounted and deployed. That would make it far more mobile."
Charles nodded; the "Saint-Chamond" could fire and move quickly—critical for safety.
"It's armored, so even if shells exploded nearby, it would be hard to harm the crew," Tijani continued, noting another point.
Charles agreed. Artillery at this ti lacked precision, especially over longer distances, where it relied more on shrapnel or shockwaves to inflict damage. The "Saint-Chamond's" armor would protect it from much of this danger.
"And it could carry more shells, providing consistent and sustained fire support," Tijani said, recognizing its additional capacity.
Charles summarized, "We've long been at a disadvantage with artillery, General. The Germans have an overwhelming number of 105mm guns, and we can't match them anyti soon. So…"
"So, we really need an armored artillery piece," Tijani concluded, suddenly realizing. "Even if its range and firepower can't match the Germans' 105mm guns, it could still defeat them. With the armor and mobility of the 'Saint-Chamond,' as long as it's not hit directly, it stands a good chance of getting close enough to German artillery."
Charles was pleasantly surprised that Tijani grasped the advantages of the "Saint-Chamond" so quickly. He had expected this son of a wealthy family to pay little attention to honing his military expertise, but it was clear Tijani was genuinely invested in the "art of war."
Looking at the now-pensive Tijani, Charles asked, "So, would you still swap the 'Saint-Chamond' for the 'Char A1'?"
Tijani smiled sheepishly, "You were right. No, I wouldn't."
While he wasn't entirely certain it would work as Charles envisioned, it was a new tactic worth exploring, and Tijani was never one to shy away from innovation.
But then he added, "Brigadier, should we still secure more 'Char A1s' to supplent them?"
Charles looked at Tijani in disbelief. This guy is acting like Britain's First Lord of the Admiralty—could he be a long-lost son of the man?
June 12th—Charles's birthday.
As an active brigadier, he shouldn't have expected any recognition of his birthday, let alone a day off. After all, every soldier in the army has a birthday, and if each soldier got a holiday, the whole system would collapse.
But that afternoon, Gallieni unexpectedly approved Charles's leave.
"It has nothing to do with your birthday, Brigadier," Gallieni clarified. "This is because you helped bring Italy into the Allies. It's an impressive accomplishnt. They even awarded you a dal. Pick it up on your way through headquarters."
"Yes, General," Charles replied.
Surprised, he wondered why the old man even knew his birthday. Gallieni could have easily found the date in his file, but with thousands of soldiers under his command, he should be long past noticing birthdays.
The dal was a Croix de Guerre, newly established only two months prior. At this point, only ten individuals had received it, and Charles was fortunate to join this small group.
anwhile, his friend Browning beca the eleventh recipient as commander of the First Tank Brigade, comnded for his brigade's distinguished performance at Cambrai.
Charles casually slipped the dal into his pocket and climbed into the car bound for Davaz. For him, a day off was worth more than any dal.
By the ti Charles arrived ho, night had fallen. In the dimly lit town, only a few scattered lamps glowed, and the usual bustle had quieted to silence, broken only by the occasional bark of a distant dog.
After receiving his call, Camille had already prepared a al and baked a cake, complete with candles. Deyoka had co ho early, too.
But these familiar faces weren't the only ones at the table.
Sitting at the table were two unfamiliar faces: an older woman and a young lady who looked like she could be her daughter.
Charles glanced questioningly at Deyoka, who rely shrugged and shot a furtive look at Camille, who was bringing dishes from the kitchen.
And Charles understood. This was Camille's doing.
"This is Elise," Camille announced with a warm smile, setting a plate of escargot on the table. "She's Mada Lina's daughter. I'm sure you've t."
Escargot was one of the few dishes Charles resisted, so Camille rarely prepared it. Tonight, it was clearly for a special guest.
"Hello, Charles." Elise greeted him confidently, extending her hand. "You might not rember , but we went to middle school together."
"Did we?" Charles genuinely couldn't recall.
This young woman didn't seem the least bit nervous in front of his uniform and brigadier insignia, two shining stars.
She must not have recognized him, Charles thought.
"Of course," Elise laughed easily. "We were about fourteen at the ti. You were always getting punished by Mr. Louis."
Mr. Louis had been Charles's math teacher, notorious for punishing students who failed to complete their howork by making them stand.
Camille looked at Charles in surprise. "I never heard you ntion this before!"
Charles gave a resigned sigh, "Mother, that was my last secret!"
Laughter rippled around the table.
Charles, slightly embarrassed, stole a glance at Elise.
He thought of Lucia. Many people in Paris already considered her his "girlfriend," but evidently, the news hadn't yet reached the quiet town of Davaz.
(Chapter end)
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