I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 56

Chapter 56: Harassment Tactics

Charles listened patiently to Gallieni recount the situation and nearly lost his temper.

“It can’t be used for direct combat, General!” Charles exclaimed.

“I suspected as much,” Gallieni replied. “I read Major Browning’s report. He used sidecars to slip through narrow paths behind enemy lines, catching them off guard. Are sidecars only suitable for that kind of operation? The battlefield has changed since Major Browning’s victory. Now, the Germans are always on alert when stationed, digging at least two trenches before and behind their positions.”

This was a classic case of “where there’s a spear, there’s a shield.” The battlefield was a place where both sides constantly outmaneuvered each other with their lives on the line. The Germans wouldn’t let sidecars massacre their troops repeatedly without taking precautions.

Digging trenches was an excellent solution. Sidecars didn’t have the trench-crossing ability of tracked tanks, and even a shallow trench could block their advance.

However, sidecars weren’t just for ambushes.

After some thought, Charles said, “We could try harassment tactics. It might suit the current battlefield conditions!”

“Harassment tactics?” Gallieni’s voice sounded doubtful over the telephone.

“Yes!” Charles explained. “It’s the same idea of bypassing the enemy’s front lines to penetrate their rear, but instead of direct engagement, we harass their main forces!”

Gallieni was still unsure. “What if they’re still on guard? And not all routes are suitable for sidecar operations!”

Sidecar attacks required specific terrain—open, relatively flat areas. Otherwise, their mobility was severely restricted, making an assault nearly impossible.

“That’s why I’m suggesting harassment instead of attacks,” Charles clarified. “We don’t need many—just a few vehicles popping up around the enemy, firing a few shots day and night. They wouldn’t even need to cross trenches!”

Gallieni let out an “Oh” as if he was starting to understand.

Charles continued, “The sidecars’ job is to frighten the enemy, forcing them to frequently organize defenses or slow their marches. At night, they could keep the enemy on edge, waking them repeatedly until they’re utterly exhausted. Once the enemy lets their guard down or a small unit is isolated, the sidecars can concentrate their efforts for a quick strike.”

Gallieni nodded slightly. As a veteran soldier, he could see the brilliance of such a strategy.

At that point, sidecars used for harassment would act like a swarm of flies, circling the enemy, always out of reach. The enemy wouldn’t be able to eat or sleep peacefully, while the sidecars could rely on their familiarity with the terrain and speed to stay out of the enemy’s firing range.

Even German artillery would be helpless against something so fast, small, and capable of disappearing into the woods at a moment’s notice.

When the enemy was frustrated and on the verge of collapse, that would be the time to strike!

“An excellent idea!” Gallieni sincerely praised. “Another way to possibly defeat a stronger opponent. You seem to treat warfare as a game of toying with your opponent!”

There was a hint of regret in Gallieni’s tone. A military genius like Charles was wasted in commerce. He should be a strategist, training troops and teaching soldiers these tactics.

Charles reminded him, “This tactic may sound simple, but it’s challenging to execute, General. It’s essential not to launch reckless charges or attacks. The most critical factor is having precise intelligence on the enemy. Otherwise, it’s too easy to fall into an ambush!”

After a brief pause, Charles added, “Speaking of intelligence gathering, I think two-wheeled motorcycles would be more suitable than sidecars. Don’t you agree?”

“Absolutely!” Gallieni nodded repeatedly. “Two-wheeled motorcycles can navigate almost any mountain road!”

“They can also be used for communication!” Charles added enthusiastically. “Motorcycles are much faster and more reliable than horses!”

Charles almost added, “Order now and enjoy a 10% discount!”

Gallieni didn’t notice the sales pitch. His mind was filled with images of dispatch riders speeding along narrow roads and highways on motorcycles.

After a while, he sighed, “If you weren’t just 17 years old, I’d never believe you’ve never been to war!”

Then, Gallieni realized his comment might have been inappropriate. None of France’s war veterans had thought of such tactics or these key points.

So it wasn’t about experience.

What was it, then? Pure imagination?

Unbelievable!

On the other end of the phone, Charles merely smiled. Gallieni couldn’t fathom that Charles’ knowledge came from modern military strategies—wisdom accumulated over thousands of years of human warfare.

“Do you have any other tactics?” Gallieni asked eagerly.

“I think special operations could also work well in the current situation, General,” Charles suggested.

“Special operations?” Gallieni’s eyes lit up again.

However, just as Gallieni prepared to listen intently, there was a burst of noise over the phone.

“Release Master Charles!”

“You lackeys of the capitalists—what evidence do you have to arrest him?”

“Master Charles saved France from the Germans. How could he possibly be a German spy?”

...

“A German spy?” Gallieni was baffled. “Which idiot slapped that label on Charles?!”

On the other end of the line, chaos reigned. Angry workers surrounded the tent where Charles was being “detained,” pushing hard to get inside. Even though Jules and his soldiers blocked the way with their rifles, it was no use.

Jules shouted, “Gentlemen, you misunderstand. We just want to speak with Master Charles…”

“Lies!” someone immediately shouted. “We know what Major Laurent said!”

Jules understood immediately. Someone among the soldiers had tipped off the workers. Otherwise, how could they know this was an “interrogation”?

Just as Jules was about to explain, Laurent stepped forward angrily.

“Yes, this is an interrogation!”

“Not just Charles—every one of you is suspect…”

“Bang!” A rock flew through the air, hitting Laurent squarely on the head. He stumbled and fell, blood streaming from the edge of his hat.

The crowd wasn’t ready to stop. They shouted and surged forward, trying to break through the soldiers’ defenses.

At that moment, Charles stepped out of the tent and appeared before the workers. “I’m fine, gentlemen. Thank you.”

Though his voice wasn’t loud, the crowd instantly fell silent. Seeing Charles reassured them.

“Did those bastards torture you?” someone asked.

“Don’t worry, Master Charles. We’ll always stand by you.”

“Anyone could be a spy, but not you!”

...

Charles glanced at Laurent, who was covered in wounds and being helped to his feet by his subordinates. For a moment, he even felt a bit of pity.

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