I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 87

Chapter 87: Congreve Rockets

The midday breeze carried the fragrance of azaleas as Charles walked alone along the garden path behind the fortress command center. His expression was slightly dejected.

The sudden appearance of a third "Big Bertha" shattered everyone's illusions. Victory, like a beautiful soap bubble, burst with a mere touch, vanishing without a trace.

Furthermore, Charles now understood why the German army had launched such a fierce attack.

General Gillis had revealed it to Charles during the morning meeting.

Ignoring King Albert I's objections, General Gillis had fixed his gaze on Charles and said, "The Germans' target is you. If you surrender, you can save all our lives!"

Charles knew the intention behind General Gillis's words—he wanted Charles to voluntarily surrender to the Germans to preserve Antwerp.

Charles scoffed at this and retorted, "Next time, if the Germans demand that you hand over the King, what will you do?"

General Gillis was speechless. After all, the Germans had a history of breaking their promises. If they were trustworthy, they would not have attacked neutral Belgium.

The problem remained unsolved. The booming of "Big Bertha" continued relentlessly. Although Fort Wavre was shrouded in smoke, at this rate, its complete destruction was only a matter of time.

What else could be done to counter it?

Charles thought of airplanes. Aircraft were a type of three-dimensional combat equipment capable of approaching and striking targets from above, bypassing the problem of insufficient range.

However, the planes of this era were unarmed.

If they had weapons, those would be bricks, fishing nets, tail hooks, or even needles...

Carrying explosives onto the planes?

European grenades were still rudimentary, and they were using spherical explosives. Transporting such explosives onto planes for aerial bombardment presented many problems:

If the altitude was too high, the explosives would detonate in mid-air, causing no damage to the target.

If the altitude was too low, the explosives would shatter upon impact with the ground and lose their effectiveness. Even if they managed to land intact in soft soil, the enemy would have time to pick them up, throw them away, or even remove the fuse entirely.

And that wasn’t even considering whether they could hit the target in the first place!

A functional aerial bomb needed to meet certain criteria:

• A sturdy shell to prevent shattering on impact.

• Stabilizing fins to ensure a steady flight trajectory; otherwise, random rolling caused by the wind would destroy any semblance of accuracy.

• Finally, a reliable fuse.

These requirements could not be met in a short time, and Antwerp lacked the resources to develop them. Charles had to think of another solution.

As Charles brooded over this, a group of soldiers hurried past the gate, carrying bundles of long, rod-like objects on their backs.

Curious, Charles casually asked, "What are those weapons?"

The soldiers, recognizing Charles, stopped out of respect. One of the captains stepped forward to answer, "These are Congreve rockets, Lieutenant!"

Although his rank was higher than Charles’s, the captain treated him with great deference—Charles’s reputation and the Kingdom Crown Medal on his chest commanded respect.

"Rockets?" Charles approached to take a closer look.

After observing for a moment, he understood. This was a weapon originally from China, improved by a British artilleryman named Congreve during the Napoleonic era, hence the name "Congreve rocket."

By the Second World War, this weapon would evolve into the famous "Katyusha." But in this era, it was practically obsolete.

"The King has ordered us to prepare for the worst, Lieutenant," the captain explained. "We need to arm everyone. Even though rockets are outdated, they’re better than nothing!"

Charles nodded, thinking that if not for the need to "arm everyone," these weapons would likely never have been taken out of storage.

"How many rockets do we have?" Charles asked.

"I'm not sure, Lieutenant!" The captain hesitated before giving an estimate. "Approximately two hundred, though some may have been compromised by moisture and might be unusable!"

"Keep them all!" Charles decided without hesitation. "Not a single one is to be sent away!"

"Understood, Lieutenant!" The captain nodded, though his face remained puzzled. What use could such primitive weapons have? Could they be used to destroy "Big Bertha"?

Charles walked a few steps, then turned back to add, "You are in charge of these rockets. You must ensure their safety—no accidents are allowed!"

"Understood, Lieutenant!" the captain responded.

Charles hurried back to the operations office, where the two generals and King Albert I were poring over a map, discussing something.

When Charles returned, they said:

"We’re considering a possibility, Charles. Given that the Germans have only one remaining 'Big Bertha,' we believe we should take the initiative—perhaps sending troops for a nighttime raid!"

"If we plan carefully, we might succeed. Destroying this 'Big Bertha' would buy us some time, at least temporarily!"

"This requires your participation..."

Before they could finish, Charles interrupted:
"It won’t work. The Germans will be prepared! Any troops we send will be walking to their deaths!"

This was their last remaining cannon, and the Germans would undoubtedly guard it vigilantly.

Without waiting for objections, Charles turned to King Albert I:
"Your Majesty, I need to visit the airfield. Could you provide me with a carriage? Also, there’s a squad of soldiers downstairs guarding some rockets—I’d like to request additional manpower to transport those rockets to the airfield!"

"Of course!" King Albert I readily agreed. "The carriage is waiting just outside!"

Charles turned to leave but paused at the door. He looked back at Gillis and asked, "General, how many planes do we have left?"

General Gillis was caught off guard. He didn’t know.

"I’ll make a call to find out!" Gillis offered. Aircraft weren’t crucial to the current situation, so he hadn’t been keeping track.

"Never mind!" Charles said. "Would you mind temporarily handing over command of the airfield to me?"

"Of course!" Gillis nodded without hesitation.

Since the army had no pressing reconnaissance needs—those could be handled with balloons—the planes were essentially irrelevant to Antwerp’s defense.

Charles said no more and hurried downstairs. He had to launch an attack before nightfall; otherwise, Fort Wavre might be lost.

Back in the operations office, the others exchanged bewildered looks, unsure of Charles’s intentions.

"He’s probably planning to escape Antwerp and return to Paris," General Winter speculated.

Gillis was momentarily stunned but then agreed, "He must be deploying all the planes to distract German pilots while his own plane slips away. It could be considered a retreat..."

"No!" King Albert I interrupted firmly, his expression resolute. "Charles would never do that. He is not like you, General!"

Gillis’s face showed a mix of embarrassment and anger. He had only been considering the nation’s interests—it didn’t mean he was a coward!

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