I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 103

Chapter 103: The Purpose of the Tractor

However, when Camille and Djoka tried to put their plan into action, they realized it was not so simple.

Djoka held the phone and said, “Please connect me to the City Defense Command. We’d like to speak with General Gallieni!”

On the other end, the operator’s sweet and professional voice replied, “I’m sorry, you don’t have the clearance!”

“I’m Charles’ father. He works there!” Djoka persisted, “I just want to ask about Charles!”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the operator replied calmly, “Charles must provide the password himself before I can connect you.”

Djoka gently put down the phone, glanced at Camille beside him, and said helplessly, “The Command uses a military-exclusive line; it’s not something we can just call.”

This wasn’t General Gallieni being arrogant. If anyone could call the Command freely, its communications would likely collapse as soon as war broke out.

“What about Parliament then?” Camille refused to give up. “They made this decision. Are they just going to abandon it now?”

Djoka shrugged. “Camille, we can’t even get into Parliament, let alone figure out which of the many members we should approach.”

This question left Camille stumped. Could they possibly summon all the parliamentarians for a meeting?

This was the divide between the upper and lower classes: while the lower class did have freedom of speech, when something happened, they often didn’t even know who to approach or where to seek justice.

Djoka glanced toward Charles’ bedroom and said, “Unless we wake Charles up, then we can speak with the General...”

Camille shook her head lightly, unwilling to disturb Charles’ rest.

The two felt rather helpless, realizing that what Charles could easily accomplish seemed as hard as climbing a mountain for them.

At that moment, the phone rang. Djoka answered it and, moments later, his eyes widened in surprise. “General Gallieni!”

Camille grabbed the phone and identified herself. She had a lot of questions she wanted to ask.

However, General Gallieni’s voice on the other end conveyed a sincere apology:
“My deepest apologies, Madame Bernard! This was my oversight!”

“Please believe me, I did not do this intentionally. It was a mistake, an accident.”

“For certain reasons, I cannot explain the details to you, but please trust me—this will not happen again!”

“I will protect Charles. I give you my word and my honor as a guarantee!”

...

Camille suddenly didn’t know what to say. She even felt reassured leaving Charles in General Gallieni’s care.

Djoka, seeing Camille hang up the phone, shrugged.

He paused at the doorway, turned back toward Charles’ bedroom, and raised his voice, as though bidding farewell to Camille, “I’m off to work!”

The next second, Charles opened the door and rushed out. “Wait for me, Father!”

Camille saw that Charles hadn’t even changed out of his uniform and immediately understood what was going on. But it was already too late—Charles dashed down the stairs, out the door, and into the car before Camille could catch up. Her angry voice echoed behind him, “Charles...”

Djoka chuckled as he started the car. With a smug glance at Charles, he said, “I knew you weren’t resting!”

...

Charles visited a tractor factory.

Under the joint management of Joseph and Djoka, the development of the “Mark I” tank was progressing smoothly, and the production of the “Holt 75” tractor had also begun.

However, Djoka seemed puzzled. During the factory tour with Charles, he asked casually, “I understand why we’re producing tanks—they can be sold to the military. But why tractors? You know they aren’t selling well right now, and that trend might continue for quite some time!”

The war dictated this reality. As long as the war continued, farmers, uncertain whether they might be conscripted, were reluctant to buy tractors.

“They’ll be useful,” Charles replied.

“Who are we going to sell them to?” Djoka asked. “In two weeks, we’ll produce the first batch of tractors. At our current scale and speed, we can produce about 100 tractors per month!”

Djoka worried that these tractors would sit idle, rusting in warehouses, while the factory continued churning out more.

“It’s October now,” Charles said. “France’s rainy season is about to begin, lasting until April next year.”

Djoka was bewildered. “What does that have to do with tractors?”

“Everything,” Charles replied, watching the workers busy at their tasks. “Rain, mud, and artillery...”

“Artillery?” Djoka suddenly understood. Their customer was the military—the French Army!

French artillery was currently horse-drawn, which wasn’t a problem under normal conditions. But during the rainy season, when the ground turned muddy, hauling heavy artillery with horses would become exceedingly difficult and dangerous, especially on uphill terrain.

At that time...

“My God!” Djoka exclaimed. “The military will likely need a large number of tractors to tow artillery to the front lines!”

“Not just artillery,” Charles said calmly. “Also supply transport. Tracked tractors can move freely through muddy terrain, and high-powered tractors with trailers can ensure ammunition and supplies reach the front lines.”

“You’re right!” Djoka said, his eyes widening as he surveyed the surroundings. “In that case... producing 100 units per month might be far from enough to meet the military’s demand!”

But then, Djoka frowned. “We need to ramp up production and expand quickly. Otherwise, the military might just buy the ‘Holt 60’ from Francis. They have inventory!”

Charles shook his head. “No matter how much overtime we work or how much we expand, we can’t possibly meet the military’s imminent demand, Father.”

“Then what should we do?” Djoka lowered his voice. “This would be a huge deal for Francis. They recently sold a batch of tanks, and soon their stockpile of over a thousand tractors might also be purchased by the military...”

Charles stared at Djoka without speaking.

Djoka quickly caught on: if they could buy Francis’ inventory of tractors at a low price and resell them to the military later, all the profits would go into their pockets, leaving Francis to miss out on this perfect opportunity.

“Brilliant idea, Charles!” Djoka said with a nod. “Brilliant idea!”

But then he fell silent, his expression turning somber. After all, Francis was his father.

“The decision is yours, Father,” Charles said. “To buy, or not to buy.”

For Charles, this wasn’t a major issue. While the potential profits were considerable—acquiring Francis’ entire inventory and reselling it to the military could easily yield over a million francs, possibly more—Charles knew he could earn that money elsewhere.

What mattered more was whether Djoka had the resolve to sever ties with Francis.

They would have to face this dilemma sooner or later.

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