I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 82

Chapter 82: Breakfast Together

The next day, Charles was awakened by the sound of artillery fire.

It didn’t take much thought to identify it as the German “Big Bertha” heavy artillery.

The Germans typically refrained from firing at night; accuracy during nocturnal bombardments was too low, and the “Big Bertha” shells were far from cheap.

Instead, they would shell their targets during daylight, guided by observation balloons, aiming to destroy objectives with minimal ammunition.

Charles was staying in an officer’s quarters at the fortress headquarters—a private room on the third floor with an en suite bathroom. For wartime Antwerp, this was top-tier accommodation reserved for distinguished foreign guests. Even General Winter’s lodgings were no better.

After all, Antwerp was Belgium’s last “safe haven.” Many supporters of the king and those unwilling to fall under German subjugation had flocked here. As a result, accommodation was scarce, supplies were limited, and even trench-building shovels had to be provided by British reinforcements.

After hurriedly washing up, Charles went downstairs. His plan was clear: head to the airfield, return to Paris, and deliver his completed investigation report to Gallieni. This report would form the basis for France’s reinforcements to Antwerp.

At the time, Charles was unaware that his mission had already become inconsequential. France, Britain, Germany, and Belgium—the warring nations—had all formulated specific military plans revolving around him.

Germany, in particular, had reinforced its forces with three divisions—and was still increasing troop numbers—to prevent Charles from leaving Antwerp.

Yet, Charles’s mind was still preoccupied with his investigation report.

Downstairs, the headquarters was bustling with people. During wartime, such activity never ceased.

Charles wanted to find General Gillis among the crowd to arrange for a car but couldn’t seem to locate him.

Just as he was hesitating, a soldier in a red-and-black uniform with a sword at his waist approached and saluted him.

Charles recognized the attire—it belonged to King Albert I’s guards, the Royal Guard. He had caught a glimpse of them last night when Albert had visited.

The guard spoke politely, “Lieutenant, His Majesty the King invites you to join him for breakfast. The carriage is waiting outside!”

Breakfast together?

At a time like this?
Charles found it difficult to comprehend. Was this just the aristocratic way of life? It seemed even King Albert I was not immune to such customs!

However, Charles quickly realized he was mistaken. This was not Albert I’s true intention.

Unlike Grevy’s enclosed carriage, Albert I had arranged for Charles to ride in an open-top carriage. Charles assumed it was simply a matter of Belgian style and flair, but in truth, Albert I had done so deliberately.

The carriage moved slowly, despite the absence of obstacles on the road.

Six guards in striking red uniforms rode ahead and behind the carriage. The red plumes on their hats bobbed rhythmically with the horses’ steps, as though signaling onlookers to clear the way.

On either side of the street, ragged crowds lined the roads. Most were elderly people, women, and children of all ages. Some were crying infants in arms; others were youths around Charles’s age. Their faces were smeared with grime, their expressions filled with exhaustion and fear.

The stark contrast between their destitution and the regal appearance of the Royal Guard left Charles feeling uneasy.

The crowd had initially gathered on the sides of the street, but upon seeing the carriage depart from the headquarters, they instinctively moved closer, seemingly wanting a better look at the man in the carriage.

Charles found it strange. Yesterday, he hadn’t seen so many people on the streets. Was there something special about today?

Suddenly, the carriage came to a halt at a crossroads, where a logistics convoy transporting ammunition was passing through. In wartime, everyone had to yield to the military and related units—even the Royal Guard.

This brief stop allowed Charles to discover the truth.

The people on both sides of the street slowly drew closer, at first hesitantly, then rushing forward recklessly, surrounding the carriage. They shouted at Charles in a cacophony of voices:

“Are you Charles? The one who defeated the Germans?”

“Can you really lead us to victory against the Germans?”

“The houses and lands they took from us—can you help us get them back?”

“Help us, please!”

…

Countless desperate hands reached out toward Charles. He didn’t know how to respond and could only cast pleading glances at the Royal Guard, who pretended not to notice.

Fortunately, the carriage resumed its journey shortly after, guided by the guards, leaving the frenzied crowd behind. However, more people continued to stand on both sides of the road, rising in groups to watch Charles pass, their eyes filled with hope.

Charles finally understood—Albert I had used him. This was not about “breakfast together” but a morale-boosting procession.

Albert I did not deny it. When they sat at the dining table, the king’s first words to Charles were: “I must apologize, Lieutenant! I didn’t notify you in advance, but I trust you’ll understand.”

Breakfast consisted of a steak and a fried egg. Though not particularly flavorful, it was far better than bread.

“You overestimate my influence, Your Majesty,” Charles grumbled. “This won’t have much of an effect!”

Albert I smiled faintly, elegantly cutting a piece of beef and placing it into his mouth. “On the contrary, you underestimate yourself—it’s already working!”

“What?” Charles couldn’t believe it could happen so quickly.

“Last night!” Albert I tilted his head slightly as he chewed the beef. “After returning from headquarters, I spread the word that you were here.”

“And?” Charles asked, curious about the outcome.

Albert I leaned in closer, lowering his voice:

“Until recently, Antwerp was on the verge of collapse, Lieutenant!”

“In the 14 days since the German offensive began, 4,780 soldiers have deserted, and 30,900 have surrendered to the Germans—an average daily loss of over two thousand men.”

Such information could not be shared with others; it would only demoralize them further.

“But starting last night, not only have desertions stopped, but enlistment requests to defend Antwerp have surged! What do you think caused this?”

Albert I raised his glass of red wine and toasted Charles. “Now, do you still think I overestimated you?”

Charles said nothing, focusing instead on his steak.

He thought to himself that the king must have exaggerated his deeds to an absurd degree.

“Boom!”

Another round of artillery fire from “Big Bertha.”

Charles glanced at Albert I, who returned the look with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry. Everything is proceeding according to your plan. I’m confident they’ll succeed!”

Then Albert I added, almost as an afterthought: “By the way, I believe you might not be able to leave here for the time being—at least for now. The Germans are employing unprecedented tactics, even resorting to using airplanes to crash into ours!”

Taking a small sip of wine, he emphasized, “It’s something never seen before!”

Table of content - Next Chapter >>>