I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 198

Chapter 198: Victory on the Front Line?

The attack on Cape Town by Joffre reached its fifth day.

Everything was progressing methodically, with five infantry divisions assembled on the front, and soldiers relentlessly charging at the enemy's defenses day and night.

Artillery preparation, charge, more artillery preparation, more charging...

During the day, fighter planes were also deployed to suppress the enemy's artillery, though the effect was not significant.

The reason for this was that the Germans had already realized the threat to their artillery posed by air superiority. They had deployed their artillery in basins surrounded by hills and cleverly positioned Maxim machine guns on the surrounding peaks, hiding them from view.

Whenever an aircraft lowered its altitude to bomb or strafe the artillery positions, these hidden machine guns would immediately unleash a dense hail of bullets to bring down the plane.

Realizing this, Carter issued a strict order forbidding all machine gun fighters from entering the hilly areas to attack the enemy artillery, fearing that if the machine gun planes were shot down and crashed, the secret of the "machine gun targeting coordinator" would be exposed.

Nothing was more important than this, Carter thought. Even if the Germans handed over the entire Cape Town, that would be irrelevant!

...

This day was Charles' holiday. He sat in the car on his way back to Davaus. At first, it was raining, but at some point, it suddenly turned to hail. The hailstones hit the canvas roof of the car with a "tap-tap" sound, and some also landed on the windows and engine hood, making crisp "crack-crack" noises.

Charles couldn't help but extend his hand to catch some, but although they hit his hand, they quickly bounced away or melted into tiny droplets before he could look at them again.

Lieutenant Laurent, who was driving, turned on the windshield wipers with one hand and, turning around with a smile, reminded Charles, "You wouldn’t want to taste them, including the snowflakes you’ll see later."

"Why?" Charles asked, puzzled.

Laurent gave a wry smile and answered, "You may not know this in Davaus, but here in Paris, whatever smell you detect in the air, you'll find it in the hailstones!"

Charles nodded in understanding.

In an era of industrial development, no country could avoid pollution.

European countries simply got a head start. They polluted the earth to their heart’s content, and once their industrial upgrades were completed, they promoted and pushed for environmental protection out of fear that others might surpass them.

The double standards and ugliness of capitalists were everywhere; they were just good at using propaganda tools to present themselves as virtuous.

...

Upon returning home, Charles sensed something unusual in the atmosphere during breakfast.

Normally, at this time, Djoka would be enthusiastically talking about the factory’s recent activities to help Charles get into the new work at the factory faster.

Camille, who would usually be cleaning the kitchenware and was always the last one to sit at the table, was now dining with both Djoka and Charles.

"What happened?" Charles asked with a mouthful of pizza, his curiosity piqued. "Is there trouble at the factory?"

"No!" Djoka replied. "Everything is going smoothly. They even produced ten sample tanks. After testing, they can go into mass production."

The progress on the Renault tanks was fast, thanks to Charles' foresight. Most of the issues had been solved during the design phase.

Thus, there was no need for a complicated, time-consuming cycle of design, prototyping, testing, redesigning, and re-testing.

"So, it’s because of the hail today?" Charles looked out the window.

"No, Charles." Djoka set down his fork and, ignoring Camille's warning glance, spoke with anger in his tone. "They took your flying squadron, didn’t they?"

Charles immediately understood what the issue was, and Djoka was speaking out of frustration.

"Where did you hear about this?" Charles asked, surprised.

"Everyone knows." Djoka answered. "They recognize Carter's planes, as well as Cornelius’ and Lucchini’s!"

Charles suddenly realized. The planes of these three men were easily recognizable: Carter flew the "machine gun plane," and his aircraft was painted with an upright middle finger, earning him the nickname "Middle Finger Carter."

Cornelius, the guy who had starved for two months due to an inability to repair his plane, had a shark with a wide-open bloodthirsty mouth painted on his plane, earning him the nickname "Shark Cornelius."

Lucchini was a rocket fighter pilot famous for his fast dive speeds, especially during the Battle of Ypres when he blew up the German artillery positions. He painted his wings the same blue as the French military uniform, and was called "Blue Face Hurricane."

When these three appeared in the sky, everyone knew it was Charles' First Fighter Squadron.

But Charles was at home on holiday, meaning the squadron had been taken away by someone else.

"They say it was Joffre's doing!" Djoka muttered angrily. "His actions are completely out of line with his position as Commander-in-Chief. This is disgraceful..."

"This is a normal military redeployment, Father," Charles replied calmly. "The military doesn't belong to anyone; it's meant for fighting."

"Even so, why was it only you, the squadron leader, who wasn’t reassigned?" Djoka countered. "Who else is more qualified to command the flying squadron? This is clearly an attempt to exclude you from the military achievements..."

Camille interrupted Djoka: "You actually want them to transfer Charles? I think it makes perfect sense; they’re following the decisions of the parliament!"

To Camille, as long as Charles didn't have to go to the battlefield, it was a good thing.

She couldn't understand Charles’ feelings. He had put so much effort into training a flying squadron, only for it to be taken away when it was finally ready for combat.

Although not directly stated, Djoka's words clearly reflected what Charles was thinking.

Nevertheless, Charles still maintained a nonchalant demeanor. "They said they’ll return the squadron; this is just an emergency mobilization."

Djoka sighed lightly. "I hope so."

But everyone knew this could very well be an excuse. Once they fully recognized the value of the squadron, they would find all sorts of reasons to keep it.

What could Charles do then?

The table fell into silence as everyone sat lost in their thoughts.

At that moment, Laurent’s car sped up and came to a screeching halt in front of Djoka’s house.

Charles looked out the window in confusion. Normally, Laurent wouldn’t show up at this time unless there was an emergency.

As expected, Lieutenant Laurent jumped out of the car and rushed up to the door.

Djoka opened the door in time, and Laurent hurried inside, telling Charles, "Major, General Gallieni wants you to return to the headquarters immediately. They’ve achieved a victory on the front line."

Charles froze for a moment. Joffre had won a victory on the front? This was good news, so why the rush?

The next moment, Charles realized: If Joffre’s tanks had won a victory, there could only be one possibility—the enemy had intentionally allowed them in!

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