I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 188

Chapter 188: Intensive Training

Charles easily won this battle of public opinion.

After realizing they had almost been exploited by capitalists, the citizens developed a rebellious mentality. The workers launched a large-scale strike, gathering in front of the Schneider headquarters and the Francis tractor factory, holding up national flags in protest. They even organized marches and demonstrations.

Many others showed their support for Charles through their actions. They canceled their orders for Francis' "Holt 120" and insisted on purchasing Charles' "Holt 75," even though they knew that Charles' tractor was less advanced.

A saying spread among the people:
"You plan to buy the 'Holt 120'? That's your freedom, but if Charles' factory fails as a result, just wait—'Holt 120' will soon rise to twice its original price, or even more!"

"Charles' factory is the reason the capitalists are lowering prices. We cannot allow this reason to be buried by them!"

"We know the capitalists' tactics. Many of us have been swallowed up by them. Do you want to see Charles' factory go down the same path?"

...

As a result, Charles' "Holt 75" not only sold well but even exceeded demand.

This surprised Charles. He had actually prepared himself for, and did not mind, the losses from the tractor factory. From the beginning, his purchase of the factory was for the tanks. The tractors were merely a byproduct, producing some profit to subsidize the tank development funds.

But it worked out well. Who doesn't want to make more money? Especially since Charles was also a capitalist.

...

In the 12th district of Paris, adjacent to the 4th district, there was a police training base near the Bastille prison, where many officers underwent basic training in firearms, physical fitness, and other skills before stepping into their jobs.

But on this particular day, the training base welcomed a group of unusual trainees. They were not police officers but soldiers, to be precise, officers.

Most were majors and lieutenant colonels, with a few colonels among them.

They came from 44 divisions at the front lines. Each division sent two officers: one artillery officer and one infantry officer.

On the third floor of the training base's building, there was a tiered conference room that could accommodate more than a hundred people. It was used as a classroom for training officers.

Dominique felt a bit nervous facing these trainees. Although his rank was colonel, as a test shooter, he had never been to the battlefield.

When Dominique saw these battle-hardened officers with scarred faces, he nearly got intimidated by their fierce demeanor.

Among them was a Colonel named Christine, a combat hero. Although his 1st Special Artillery Regiment had not won the battle of Lafox, this did not diminish his reputation in the army.

"Uh... gentlemen!" Dominique nervously introduced himself from the podium. "My name is Dominique. I will be your chief instructor. For the next week, I will teach you... how to use mortars!"

Colonel Christine glanced at Dominique with some confusion and politely asked, "Sorry, Colonel Dominique, isn't this training organized by Charles?"

"Yes, of course!" Dominique answered nervously. "But as you know, Charles is very busy. He only handles the tactical lectures. As for the use of mortars..."

"Hey, Colonel!" An officer interrupted Dominique, his tone dripping with disdain. "Have you ever been to the battlefield?"

The remark hit home. It was obvious to everyone that this chubby chief instructor was someone from outside the battlefield, probably from a noble or capitalist background. There's no way someone like him would hold such a high rank otherwise.

Dominique hesitated for a moment and answered honestly, "No, I haven't! But I..."

"Then what gives you the right to teach us how to use weapons?" Another officer interrupted Dominique.

Before Dominique could respond, yet another officer asked, "Do you know the battlefield better than we do? Or know what we need?"

Laughter erupted in the classroom. The officers treated this training as a joke.

Just then, a young man dressed in a major's uniform walked into the room. He put away his umbrella, and two guards stood outside the door. Another major respectfully took the umbrella from his hands.

The young man scanned the room with a sharp gaze and calmly said, "Sorry, I'm late!"

The room instantly fell silent.

Most of the officers had never seen Charles and didn’t recognize him… His photo had appeared in the newspapers, but it was only a blurry outline, making it impossible to discern his face.

However, the officers still knew that the young man before them was Charles.

Currently, no one in France was young enough to be a major—most people of that age were still privates... No, they probably hadn't even enlisted yet.

Like Dominique, Charles was well-kept. He had never been to the battlefield, his military uniform pristine and as fresh as new. Yet no one dared to look down on him.

"I'm happy to meet all of you!" Charles generously nodded to the crowd, then turned his gaze to the podium. The instructor stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

Looking down at the officers' contemptuous expressions, Charles seemed to understand something.

"Here’s the deal," Charles swept his gaze across the room, his tone relaxed, "I should first emphasize that participation in this training is voluntary. If you don’t want to participate, you are free to leave!"

"Is that for real?" an officer asked.

These officers had just come from the front lines, and they weren't afraid to ask tough questions.

"Of course!" Charles smiled and nodded. "I’ll even give you an explanation. You don’t have to worry about not being able to report to your superiors!"

"Can we see what kind of cannon it is?" Some officers expressed curiosity. "After seeing the cannon, we’ll know whether this training is worth it!"

This remark immediately resonated with the officers.

Charles nodded at the instructor.

The instructor understood and quickly went out to call for help. In no time, a few instructors entered with parts for the mortar and assembled it on the podium.

Seeing the mortar, the officers began to murmur:

"A small cannon like that?"

"I thought it would be a better cannon than the 75mm gun, but it looks like a child’s toy."

"Hard to imagine, we actually have to learn to use this thing."

...

But Colonel Christine, on the other hand, looked cautiously at the mortar. He glanced at Charles with some surprise, wondering why Charles, who had never been to the battlefield, knew so much about it. How did he know what the front-line soldiers needed?

Charles spoke up again, his tone even carrying a hint of anticipation: "Now, those who don’t need it can leave. Please, feel free!"

All eyes turned to Colonel Christine.

Colonel Christine shook his head firmly and said, "No, Sir. We need this cannon!"

Charles shook his head regretfully: "Damn it, I can’t fool you."

"To be honest with you!" Charles spread his hands. "The production of these mortars is not enough to equip the front-line troops. I really hoped that some of you would leave, but..."

Laughter echoed among the officers. Those who had originally considered leaving now secretly rejoiced that they hadn’t made such a rash decision.

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