I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 4
Added 2025-01-31 05:53:51 +0000 UTCChapter 4: Gallieni
At the 6th Army Headquarters in Paris, the clamor of telephone calls filled the air as documents and intelligence flooded Gallieni’s desk amidst the constant flow of personnel.
Lieutenant General Gallieni was widely regarded as one of France's most capable military commanders. Once a competitor of Joffre for the position of French Commander-in-Chief, he had lost that contest, supposedly due to his age.
This explanation, however, was unconvincing—he was only three years older than Joffre.
The real reason lay in the fact that Joffre submitted to the influence of capital, whereas Gallieni detested it and opposed it at every turn. His defeat was, therefore, inevitable.
The clearest evidence of this was that if Joffre were truly fit to serve as Commander-in-Chief, there would have been no need to recall the retired Gallieni to manage Paris’s defenses at the outbreak of war.
Why, at this moment, did no one consider Gallieni too old?
Gallieni harbored resentment. During peacetime, they sidelined him; in wartime, they summoned him.
Should others enjoy the rewards of peace while leaving him to shoulder the burdens of war?
Adding insult to injury, the wealthy capitalists and government officials who lived lives of indulgence in Paris had all fled at the first sign of trouble, leaving him and his troops to die in the city.
Indeed, for Gallieni, the situation was akin to a death sentence. He understood all too well that the French Army paled in comparison to the German forces, and thus Paris faced a dire dilemma:
If they left the city to engage the enemy, they risked being crushed like the 5th Army.
If they stayed within the city, even though it was fortified, they would face encirclement. Without supplies, the two million soldiers and civilians would either surrender or starve to death.
Still, Gallieni could not refuse this perilous task, even though it might cost him his life. He knew that what he needed to save were the millions of innocent French civilians!
How could he break this curse?
Gallieni pinned his hopes on the 5th Army, which had retreated in disarray. Pointing to the map, he said to Major General Maunoury, commander of the 6th Army:
“There’s only one option—stabilize the 5th Army and combine our forces to hold off the German 1st Army!”
Major General Maunoury hesitated before responding:
“But, Lieutenant General, the 5th Army is in shambles. They’ve lost all their supplies and a large quantity of ammunition. I’m not even sure if they still have rifles!”
After a pause, Maunoury added:
“Paris might have some supplies left, but if we let the 5th Army into the city or send supplies out to them…”
He left the rest unsaid. Both armies would be trapped within Paris, unable to move. Moreover, the city’s supplies had to be conserved for an inevitable siege; sending them out was unwise.
Just as Gallieni was at his wit’s end, an aide reported:
“Lieutenant General, there’s a merchant named Francis who says he’s willing to help us. He’s prepared to purchase food at his own expense and, moreover, he owns a machine gun factory. All of this, he’s willing to provide free of charge to support our retreating troops!”
Gallieni’s eyes lit up. “Where? I need the exact location!”
The aide studied the map briefly, then pointed to a spot.
“Here, at Davaus!”
Gallieni was overjoyed. Davaus, southeast of Paris and on the south bank of the Marne River, was the perfect location for the 5th Army to regroup and launch a counterattack.
“Get me Command Headquarters!” Gallieni ordered. He needed to report this to Joffre and propose altering the 5th Army’s retreat path.
Gallieni silently exclaimed, God, we’re saved! Perhaps not all capitalists are bad after all!
Little did he know that this turn of events was just the beginning...
...
At dawn, the small town of Davaus awoke to the chirping of birds. Sunlight pierced through the mist and streamed through the window onto Charles’s face.
Owing to their near "banishment," the Djoka family wasn’t living with Francis. Francis’s luxurious villa and factory were located a kilometer outside town, while the Djoka family resided in the southeast corner of Davaus.
At that moment, the Djoka family was having breakfast: bread, sausage, and a glass of milk.
Charles wasn’t entirely accustomed to the meal, but respecting local customs, he said nothing.
Taking a bite of the hard bread, he asked indistinctly, “Father, may I borrow your bicycle?”
Djoka agreed without hesitation but asked,
“Where are you going? The Germans could arrive at any moment. I think it’s best you stay home!”
Hearing the conversation, his mother, Camille, became visibly tense. She placed her plate on the table, smoothed her skirt, and sat beside Charles.
“Listen to your father. Don’t go out!”
Turning to Djoka with a questioning look, she asked,
“Shouldn’t we head south to avoid trouble? How did things go last night?”
Djoka hesitated with an awkward grunt. He couldn’t exactly say it was Charles who had steered the conversation in another direction.
Charles, meanwhile, answered the original question:
“I need to visit the tractor factory. Francis wants me to help Joseph manage it.”
Both Djoka and Camille froze, staring at Charles in shock.
Camille seemed to suddenly understand, covering her mouth as if trying not to shout. She turned to Djoka, who nodded slightly, confirming the truth.
Though Djoka didn’t know the exact reason, he knew it must have had something to do with last night’s conversation.
“Go ahead!” Djoka said cautiously, nodding. “But come back early!”
He added, “If you hear anything—anything about the Germans—come back immediately!”
“Understood!” Charles quickly finished his milk, grabbed his half-eaten bread, and headed out.
As they watched Charles pedal away on the bicycle, Camille turned to Djoka, her voice trembling with excitement.
“Does this mean Mr. Francis has acknowledged Charles?”
Djoka’s expression was peculiar as he replied,
“I believe my father has done more than just acknowledge Charles.”
Camille looked puzzled.
“What do you mean?”
Djoka explained,
“Last night, Father said we’ve done a good job raising our child. I think he’s acknowledged us because of Charles.”
Camille was stunned for a moment, still finding it hard to believe.
“Are you… are you serious? Because of Charles?”
Djoka, filled with a mix of emotions, nodded.
“Yes, because of Charles. It seems he’s grown up.”
Tears welled up in Camille’s eyes as her emotions overwhelmed her.
For years, Camille had blamed herself. It was because of her that Djoka and Charles had lost their right to inherit the Bernard family’s legacy.
Now, it seemed there was hope. She might finally be able to set down the heavy burden she carried.
However, Djoka expressed concern.
“You weren’t there last night. Charles… he’s as shrewd as Father. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing…”
“He’s not like your father, Djoka!” Camille quickly countered. “He’s your son. You should be proud of him. So, of course, it’s a good thing!”
Djoka said nothing further. He knew there was no arguing with a woman, especially one who was also a mother.
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