I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 100

Chapter 100: Dismissed by God

Two rows of torches stood neatly along both sides of the runway, like a double line of sentinels, marking the plane’s position and direction.

Before long, the faint rumble of an engine came from the sky, growing louder and closer.

Gallieni looked up into the pitch-black sky, instinctively taking two steps forward, only to be stopped by a guard: “General, it’s too dangerous to get that close!”

Gallieni grunted in acknowledgment and stepped back.

The pilot couldn’t see anything in the darkness. All he had were the two rows of torches as his guide. If someone were to stand at the edge of the runway, they might very well be sliced in half by the plane’s wings—be they a soldier or a general.

Finally, the plane appeared against the night sky, descending gradually. Those below could now make it out, though it was still just a shadowy blur.

The first landing attempt didn’t go smoothly; the pilot seemed unsure about the angle. The plane dipped as though to land, then abruptly pulled up and circled twice before finally descending steadily and stopping on the runway.

Gallieni, accompanied by a group of soldiers, rushed toward the plane.

In the torchlight, Gallieni spotted a figure emerging from the cabin. It was unmistakably the boy, and he exhaled a sigh of relief, the weight on his chest lifting at last.

Then Gallieni realized, somewhat awkwardly, that while he had accounted for every safety measure, he hadn’t thought to bring Charles a coat.

The latter stood there in pajamas, clutching a pillow, shivering uncontrollably in the cold night wind.

Without hesitation, Gallieni quickened his steps, removing his military overcoat as he went. Taking long strides, he draped the coat over Charles’ shoulders and comforted him: “It’s all right now, little one. You’re home. It’s over!”

“G-General!” Charles stuttered, his whole body trembling, his teeth chattering noisily. “I left my uniform and weapons… in Antwerp. And the mission report…”

Gallieni chuckled. The boy was still thinking about his mission report?

“Bring more coats!” Gallieni called over his shoulder.

Immediately, dozens of coats were brought over. Charles was bundled up like a cocoon and carried to a car, now even wearing Gallieni’s general’s hat on his head.

Charles felt a little embarrassed. He must look terrible in front of all these people. Yet strangely, the gazes directed at him were filled only with respect.

As the car started, Charles managed to turn his head and call out to Eric: “I’ll come find you, Uncle Eric!”

“Got it!” Eric waved in response. “I’ll be waiting, little one!”

Charles had no idea that he wouldn’t need to come looking for Eric. As the pilot who had taken him to Antwerp, Eric was already under Gallieni’s suspicion, despite having safely brought Charles back.

...

The car drove down the sealed-off road back to headquarters. Cavalry led the way, guards stood at attention along both sides, and the entire path was secured.

Gallieni sat silently in the passenger seat for a long time before suddenly laughing. He turned slightly and asked Charles in the backseat, “I heard you accomplished quite a bit in Belgium and even received a Royal Crown Medal?”

Charles remembered the medal and replied with frustration, “I left it in Antwerp!”

Gallieni chuckled. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant. It won’t be lost! The King will send it back to you.”

“What?” Charles didn’t understand.

Gallieni explained, “During your three hours in the air, a lot happened in Antwerp. Everyone there knows about General Gillis’ scheme now!”

Charles nodded.

That was within his expectations. General Winter wasn’t alone—he had led a force of ten thousand troops. Once Charles was safely away, they would undoubtedly expose the truth as quickly as possible.

“Want to know what happened to General Gillis?” Gallieni asked.

“He was dismissed?” Charles guessed.

Gallieni smiled faintly and replied, “Yes, he was dismissed.”

This little boy actually believed that the betrayal of a man who saved the city, an act of treachery that put Antwerp in dishonor and peril, would only result in dismissal?

Gillis hadn’t merely been dismissed. Before King Albert I could officially remove him, an enraged mob stormed his headquarters and dragged him out, nearly beating him to death.

The person who saved him was none other than King Albert I himself, who insisted that Gillis stand trial publicly to uncover the masterminds and accomplices behind the betrayal.

But King Albert I was soon disappointed. After being sent to the hospital, Gillis endured a brutal surgery without anesthesia, in which dozens of incisions were made to locate fractures. The doctors claimed it was to treat his injuries, but the cuts had been deliberately placed to avoid vital areas.

Gillis ultimately died in agony and despair.

There was no need for Charles to know about this. Let him think of it as mere dismissal—dismissed by God Himself.

Gallieni pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Charles. “This is a telegram from King Albert I. He apologizes to you and says your uniform, belongings, and medal will be returned to you.”

Charles took the telegram but couldn’t read it in the dark. He stuffed it into a pocket, already understanding its contents.

“But you might not need that uniform anymore,” Gallieni said thoughtfully, glancing at the passing buildings.

Charles didn’t ask further, as the car had already arrived at headquarters. He was helped to his quarters, wrapped himself in blankets, and drank two cups of hot milk before finally feeling warm enough to drift into a deep sleep.

...

The next morning, Charles finally understood what Gallieni meant by “not needing that uniform.” His orderly, Adrian, brought him two brand-new uniforms, complete with a revolver and all the necessary equipment.

Charles was puzzled. Why two uniforms? He had only lost one, and the other was still in his quarters!

It wasn’t until he put one on that he noticed a gold stripe on the cuff, signifying his promotion. He was now a second lieutenant!

Gallieni watched with satisfaction as Charles, dressed in his new uniform, entered the operations room. The officers inside spontaneously broke into applause and cheers:
“Well done, Charles!”
“You’ve brought honor to France!”
“They say sending you alone was more effective than Britain sending ten thousand men!”

Gallieni initially wanted to maintain his usual stern demeanor.

But after some thought, he stepped forward and nodded approvingly. “You performed well in Antwerp, Lieutenant. This is well-deserved. Keep it up!”

Charles froze momentarily before understanding. Gallieni no longer saw a need to put on a show for the capitalists.

After all, no matter what, the capitalists would always oppose them. That was unavoidable.

“Yes, General!” Charles stood at attention, his voice no longer trembling.

“Today is your day off,” Gallieni said, checking his pocket watch. “Have breakfast and go home. Your parents should be waiting for you!”

“Yes, General!” Charles replied, still a little dazed. He had thought he was just returning to active duty.

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