I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Marketing Strategy

At noon, the church bells in the small town rang twelve times, accompanied by the sound of music.

Major Browning, who had just arrived in town, ordered a sandwich from a street vendor and hurriedly ate it on his way to the motorcycle factory. Wiping the grease from the corner of his mouth at the factory entrance, he explained his purpose to the guard.

Charles was surprised to see Major Browning. "Major, I thought you had already gone to pursue the Germans!"

"No, young master Charles," Major Browning replied helplessly. "We're waiting for the tanks."

He briefly recounted the situation and then asked Charles with concern, "Have you been treated unfairly?"

"Those bastards actually kicked the inventor out of the tractor factory!"

"No, no!" Charles replied. "There has been some unfairness, but... this is more about business."

"Here's the story," Djoka explained on Charles' behalf. "We were forced to sell the industrial rights to the tanks."

Charles stared at Djoka in shock. While there had been an element of coercion in selling the rights, it couldn’t entirely be described as "forced." Djoka, however, gave Charles a subtle look, signaling that this was the way to frame the narrative, to avoid demoralizing their supporters.

Major Browning had no doubts about the explanation. As a soldier, he could easily imagine what had happened, recalling disputes like those between the Saint-Étienne and Hotchkiss machine guns.

Anger filled Major Browning's eyes. "I knew it. Those people only care about making money—they couldn’t care less about the nation’s future or the lives of soldiers!"

Major Browning hesitated for a moment before leaning in and whispering in a tone only they could hear, "Do you need our help? For example... a robbery?"

This wasn’t a mutiny, merely a scenario where a few opportunistic soldiers might raid the home of a capitalist, loot the place, injure a few people, and then vanish into thin air.

At this time, who would care about such an incident?

"No, Major!" Charles refused without a second thought. "We’ve already found a new path forward."

"A new path?"

"Let’s talk about your situation," Charles countered. "Do you really need tanks? I mean, if tanks were delivered to you now, could you even use them effectively?"

Major Browning pondered for a moment before shaking his head. "Probably not. They're too slow and would never catch up with the retreating Germans."

"That’s exactly my point," Charles said. "Tanks are better suited for breaching fortified positions, not for chasing enemies."

Charles stepped aside, revealing a motorcycle with a sidecar to Major Browning. "I think what you need is this."

Major Browning stared in surprise at the strange three-wheeled vehicle. After inspecting it for a while, he finally recognized it. "A motorcycle? You’ve added a wheel to it?"

"Not just a wheel, Major," Charles explained. "Do you see the pillar next to the side wheel?"

Major Browning’s eyes lit up when he spotted the pillar. "Is that for mounting a machine gun?"

"Exactly!" Charles confirmed. "But we can’t supply you with the machine guns..."

"That’s not an issue," Major Browning interrupted excitedly. "We just won a battle—we’ve captured machine guns, plenty of them!"

These were Maxim machine guns seized from the Germans, far superior to the Saint-Étienne and Hotchkiss models used by the French army.

However, since French soldiers were unfamiliar with the Maxims and their ammunition was incompatible with French supplies, the Maxims were usually left as trophies in the rear, along with their ammunition.

"Perfect!" Charles exclaimed. "If you’re using Maxims, we can add an ammunition rack to the rear, allowing you to carry extra rounds."

Major Browning nodded eagerly, envisioning himself advancing while firing a mounted machine gun at the enemy.

After admiring the sidecar for a while, Major Browning asked, "How many of these do you have?"

"One," Charles replied. "At the moment, there’s only one."

Major Browning, previously full of enthusiasm, deflated instantly, like a wilted cabbage. "Young master Charles, we need at least fifty of these!"

Charles turned to Guillaume, who caught on immediately. After some thought, Guillaume answered on his behalf. "I’ll gather a team of workers. Using the motorcycles we have, we can modify them to add the necessary components. We can produce one hundred in a single day. After all, it’s just a matter of adding a few supports and a wheel!"

"Fantastic!" Major Browning’s excitement returned. "A hundred will be enough to equip my entire battalion!"

Major Browning’s third battalion had been reduced to just over 200 men. With three soldiers per vehicle, a hundred sidecars could transport 300 men, leaving additional capacity for ammunition and supplies.

"What do you need from us?" Major Browning asked.

"Bring your men here. They’ll need to learn how to drive these," Charles replied.

"Understood, young master Charles!" Major Browning said. "I’ll bring them over immediately."

But after taking a few steps, he stopped awkwardly. "But young master Charles, we have no money to pay for this..."

"Don’t worry, Major," Charles responded generously. "Everything is free. You and your men risk your lives to defend France. How could I possibly ask you to pay?"

Major Browning opened his mouth as if to say something but ultimately held back. Instead, he stood straight, gave Charles a crisp salute, and turned to leave.

Once Major Browning was gone, Djoka complained, "Charles, we don’t have much left in our accounts. If we keep this up..."

"I know, Father," Charles interrupted. "But every franc we spend will save lives, and that makes it worth it."

Djoka nodded silently.

Standing nearby, Uncle Guillaume was moved to tears. Stepping forward, he stood before Charles and declared, "Don’t worry, young master Charles. We’ll get help from others to make this happen. This isn’t your burden to bear alone!"

With that, Uncle Guillaume mounted his old motorcycle and rode off. He was determined to rally former colleagues to return to the factory—those who could truly make a difference.

Watching Uncle Guillaume’s departing figure, Djoka murmured, "We lied to him. Isn’t that wrong?"

Charles replied, "As long as our intentions are righteous, there’s nothing wrong with it. Right, Father?"

Djoka nodded silently.

This was the marketing strategy Charles and Djoka had devised.

By gifting a batch of sidecars to the military, they would demonstrate the importance of motorcycles to the army, opening up a market for them and even potentially driving up their prices.

At the same time, it would enhance Charles’ reputation among both the military and civilians.

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