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I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 202
🕑 Added 2025-05-13 17:02:01 +0000 UTCChapter 202: This is Part of the Plan
Charles did not let Gallieni off the hook. He continued, "I need the parliament to make a decision today, or I will refuse to send reinforcements to Cape Town!"
Gallieni was taken aback by Charles’s words. He had given his assurance with the intention of arguing persuasively in the parliament to secure this decision.
He believed that, given Charles had saved his son and nephew, the members of parliament would likely agree to let Charles command the troops he had trained, rather than allowing them to be sidelined as they were now.
However...
"Isn't this something for later?" Gallieni said expressionlessly, looking at Charles. "The parliament may take several days to discuss this, while your reinforcement of Cape Town is urgent..."
Before he could finish speaking, Gallieni understood. His face lightened as he nodded slightly, "Is this part of your battle plan?"
"Yes!" Charles answered calmly. "I’m acting out of frustration over the first flight squadron being reassigned, and I'm using this opportunity to demand a guarantee from the parliament."
Gallieni responded with a nod of approval, "Good idea! Only in this way will the Germans think they are dealing with Foch and not Charles."
He then added, "You’d better move quickly, Major! The German reinforcements might already be on their way, and the longer you delay, the more dangerous it will become."
...
In his villa, Wells, dressed in a suit, was pacing restlessly like an ant on a hot pan, his hands behind his back, cursing under his breath:
"He should have died on the battlefield!"
"This bastard, I’ve clearly reserved a place for him in the navy, with a great future awaiting him, yet he insists on becoming an infantryman."
Mrs. Brest's face turned pale from fear; she dared not speak, sitting on the sofa and quietly sobbing.
She inwardly regretted that, had she known things would turn out this way, she should never have supported Tigani’s entry into Saint-Cyr Military Academy.
Wells suddenly halted, asking, "Tigani was always responsible for logistics in Paris. When did he become the commander of the 2nd Special Artillery Division?"
Mrs. Brest dared not answer. The butler, gathering his courage, answered softly, "Sir, young Tigani became fascinated by tanks. When he heard that Foch was forming a 2nd Special Artillery Division, he secretly enlisted without informing you..."
Wells’s anger flared up. It seemed that everyone knew the truth—except him.
He gritted his teeth and snorted coldly, his voice laced with frustration, "Our family has built half a fleet for France, and yet he’s completely captivated by a mere tank!"
"Sir," the butler replied, "young Tigani believes that weapons only have appeal on the battlefield. Otherwise, even if their performance is excellent and they look impressive, they are nothing more than vases displayed in the living room. True weapons must shine in the blood and death of the battlefield."
Clearly, the French Navy was the "vase displayed in the living room." It rarely had combat requirements because the mighty British Royal Navy would take care of all enemies.
This was why Tigani, despite Wells’s objections and even cutting ties with him as father and son, insisted on joining the army.
Wells felt helpless regarding his only son. He had hoped the army's rigorous training would make Tigani reconsider, but to his surprise, Tigani had stuck it out for seven years at the military academy.
It was at this moment that Wells understood Tigani’s dream of becoming the second Napoleon was not just idle talk—it might very well be his life’s ambition.
"Rring, rring, rring!"
The phone rang, startling Mrs. Brest. She looked up in a daze, her eyes filled with fear, as if she were worried it was even worse news.
The butler was about to answer when Wells stopped him.
Wells quickly walked to the phone, knowing it could be Gallieni calling.
Sure enough, the voice on the other end was Gallieni’s, slightly hoarse but calm, "My apologies, Mr. Wells. In this matter, I believe only Charles can save the trapped troops."
Wells quickly replied, "Yes, I think the same, General! We should let Charles command!"
"But there are two problems, sir."
"What problems?"
"One is that the command is not in Charles’s hands. Foch is still in command of the Cape Town forces."
"That’s not much of a problem. The parliament had already confirmed the position of the Paris City Defense Command. Foch’s severing of contact with the Paris City Defense Commander was his own decision. Now he has failed, and he is helpless in the predicament he created. The command should naturally revert to you."
Gallieni did not respond immediately. Instead, he continued, "The second problem—you know about the 1st Flight Squadron. It was a unit Charles personally trained, including the rocket planes and machine gun planes he invented. Yet, before the war, it was reassigned by Foch..."
"I’m aware of this." Wells answered impatiently, "The command of the flight squadron should rightfully be returned to Charles. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it."
"No, sir!" Gallieni’s tone sharpened. "What I mean is, Charles wants more than just that."
"What does he want?" Wells asked in confusion.
He hoped to end the conversation quickly and dispatch reinforcements, but Gallieni was speaking slowly and deliberately.
"He doesn’t just want the squadron back," Gallieni said. "You know, he has a tank unit too, which he also trained. Perhaps there will be more units in the future. He doesn’t want to pour his efforts into training them, only to have them taken away by a transfer order. He believes..."
"I’ll resolve this!" Wells interrupted, determined. "I’ll handle it. This request is entirely reasonable. No one has any reason to take away his achievements. It will demotivate both Charles and others..."
"He has already lost his motivation."
"What?"
Gallieni sighed lightly, "He refuses to take command unless the parliament gives him an explanation!"
"But this isn’t the time to discuss this..."
"I know reinforcements are urgent." Gallieni replied, "But Charles, in principle, is still a minor. He’s still prone to childish tantrums, and there’s nothing we can do about it!"
Wells was stunned. Indeed, there was no way to deal with Charles in this situation. Was he supposed to send him to a military tribunal because he refused to command?
The fact that he was still underage meant he had a hundred reasons to refuse command, and all of them were justified!
Wells answered helplessly, "I’ll call a parliament session right away. We’ll give Charles a satisfactory answer."
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