I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 74

Chapter 74: Secret Mission

It was a cloudy day in Paris. The city, always shrouded in mist, seemed even darker without the sun, giving the illusion of imminent rain and an inexplicable sense of oppression.

This day, the Paris Defense Command was unusually busy.

Ordinarily, the front-line battles no longer concerned the Paris Defense Command. The warfront had moved far from Paris, and with the city no longer in danger, there was little need for its defense.

However, the recent battles had caused the Parliament to distrust Joffre. Many believed that the catastrophic losses suffered by the French Army, which even placed Paris in jeopardy, were the result of Joffre's strategic errors.

Before the war, France had already been aware of Germany's Schlieffen Plan. It was widely known that the German main force would flank Paris through Belgium. This was no secret.

At that time, all Joffre needed to do was station the French main force to the north, fortify positions along the German route, and dig trenches. This would have prevented such massive losses, and Paris would not have been endangered.

However, despite knowing the German attack plan, Joffre still implemented the so-called "Plan XVII." This plan, contrary to expectations, deployed the French main force to the southern border to launch an offensive on Alsace and Lorraine.

This strategy aligned perfectly with Germany’s Schlieffen Plan and ultimately led to the French Army's disarray.

Some members of Parliament speculated that even spies could not have orchestrated such flawless cooperation. Whatever the Germans needed, Joffre delivered, even when aware of their plans.

Yet, Joffre was a hero propped up by capitalists and the media. Parliament feared that holding him accountable or removing him would shake the confidence of the French populace and military. Hence, there was no reckoning.

(Note: If this had only happened once or twice, Parliament could have overlooked it, but Joffre consistently fell into German traps. By 1916, Parliament could no longer tolerate him. He was ostensibly promoted to Marshal but simultaneously relieved of his position as Commander-in-Chief.)

The final decision of Parliament was that Joffre would remain Commander-in-Chief of the French Army, but he was required to give full consideration to Gallieni’s advice.

In other words, although Gallieni was merely the commander of Paris's defenses, he was authorized to "assist" Joffre in commanding the French Army.

...

Intelligence from the front poured onto Gallieni’s desk like snowflakes, much of it from the Belgian fortress at Antwerp:

“General, a telegram from the Belgian Army: ‘If the situation does not improve, the Belgian government will be forced to evacuate Antwerp within three days!’”

“The British Army reports it cannot provide reinforcements to Antwerp. They hope we can send troops to assist!”

“Another message from the Belgian government. The Germans have launched another artillery bombardment. Another fortress has fallen. The situation is dire!”

...

Gallieni frowned. The Antwerp fortress was crucial to the Allies. If it fell, Belgium would no longer be able to disrupt German supply lines. The Germans could then transport ammunition and supplies unimpeded through Belgium to the French front.

Gallieni’s first thought was Charles. Could he come up with a solution?

But this idea was quickly dismissed. Charles wasn’t God, and this was a battle of artillery, steel, and fortresses. What could he possibly do?

So, when Gallieni saw Charles ascending the stairs, he merely nodded slightly before burying himself in the intelligence reports again.

“General!” At this moment, Colonel Durand stepped forward to report. “The Commander-in-Chief has requested that we send someone to Antwerp to assess the situation and provide a detailed report!”

Gallieni grunted in acknowledgment, his attention still on the documents. He responded casually, “Handle it yourself.”

“Yes, General!” Colonel Durand straightened and saluted before heading toward the staircase.

He appeared to be in a hurry. As he passed by Charles, he didn’t even glance at him but issued a low-voiced command: “Follow me, Lieutenant Charles. The General has a task for you—an urgent mission!”

“Yes, Colonel!” Charles responded.

He had noticed Colonel Durand conversing with Gallieni earlier, though he hadn’t overheard their discussion.

What could the urgent mission be?

Charles was curious. Surely it wasn’t something as mundane as standing guard or drilling troops?

After descending the stairs, Colonel Durand led Charles to a car. He personally took the wheel and drove toward their destination.

“We’re heading to the airfield,” Colonel Durand explained as he drove. “Your mission is to board a plane to a place called Antwerp. We need a detailed report of the situation there, including Belgian casualties, surviving fortresses, enemy firepower, and deployments. Understood?”

“Understood, Colonel!” Charles replied.

He felt a mix of tension and excitement. Flying to the battlefield? He hadn’t expected this day to come so soon.

Though his mission wasn’t to fight on the frontlines with a rifle but to gather intelligence, it was still fraught with danger.

Colonel Durand then reminded him, “This is a covert operation, Lieutenant. We cannot let the Germans know that France is assessing Antwerp. It would reveal our plans to send reinforcements. So, you must not discuss this with anyone, including the pilot. Understood?”

“Understood, Colonel!” Charles nodded, swallowing hard as he felt a chill on his face.

But he tried to reassure himself: There shouldn’t be any danger. If there were, General Gallieni wouldn’t have sent him. Perhaps this was just a test of his abilities!

This thought brought Charles some comfort.

Soon, however, his anxiety returned. He hadn’t even learned how to use a pistol properly. What if he encountered the enemy? Or perhaps this mission wouldn’t involve direct contact?

The car drove into a small airfield. When Charles saw a wooden biplane on the platform that looked like a toy, his face turned pale.

Was he really going to board that thing to the battlefield?

“I’ve never flown before, Colonel!” Charles nervously glanced at Colonel Durand.

“Then you’re in luck!” Durand stopped the car near the plane and gestured toward it with a nod. “You’re about to experience it now!”

Trembling, Charles got out of the car and approached the plane. Behind him, Durand added, “Don’t worry, Lieutenant! This mission is very safe. We’ve assigned you the best pilot!”

The pilot, already seated in the cockpit, turned to grin at them. He was a middle-aged man with oil-streaked cheeks and a small mustache.

“Don’t worry!” The pilot called out confidently to Charles. “I can fly this thing to the destination with my eyes closed!”

As Charles climbed into the cockpit, he caught a whiff of alcohol.

He stared at the pilot in horror. “Sir, have you been drinking?”

The pilot turned, raising a flask in his hand, and cheerfully asked, “Want some?”

Charles: “...”

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