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I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 112
🕑 Added 2025-03-24 18:02:01 +0000 UTCChapter 112: Gallieni’s Money is Hard to Earn
Carter’s aviation club was located in the 10th district.
The Gare de l'Est train station was in this area, and Carter believed that airplanes and trains were both modes of transportation. He thought that setting up the aviation club here might attract more business.
In reality, most people only knew that airplanes existed. Seeing one flying in the sky might make them exclaim in surprise, "Look, there’s a giant kite!"
However, getting them to spend money to ride in an airplane? They’d rather choose horseback.
When bankers appeared at Eric’s aircraft factory, Djoka immediately realized Charles was probably right... If the aircraft factory wasn’t profitable, the bank wouldn’t be willing to pay a premium to acquire it.
This made Djoka worry that the aviation club might face a similar situation.
“We need to move quickly!” Djoka said. “The bankers might already be negotiating with Carter at the aviation club. Hopefully, Carter is as firm as Eric was in trusting you!”
Djoka floored the accelerator, wishing he could make the car fly straight to the aviation club.
But Charles wasn’t worried at all. He reassured Djoka, “Relax, Father! The bankers won’t be interested in the aviation club!”
“Why not?” Djoka glanced at Charles in confusion. “What’s the difference between it and the aircraft factory?”
“Of course there’s a difference!” Charles replied. “The aircraft factory can achieve a technological monopoly, but the aviation club is just a piece of land. The military can easily find another location to replace it!”
“But there are also the pilots!” Djoka countered. “There aren’t many people who can fly a plane!”
“Pilots can be trained in batches!” Charles said, his gaze falling on the pedestrians outside the car. “The cheapest thing in this world might just be people. Capitalists aren’t foolish enough to compete with the military for manpower!”
Djoka found Charles’ reasoning persuasive. After all, the military had the power of conscription. Competing with them over manpower wouldn’t make money and could even invite trouble. It was clearly unwise—very unwise!
With this thought, Djoka relaxed, easing off the accelerator.
Sure enough, when the car arrived at the aviation club, there were no bankers in sight.
The aviation club was bustling with pilots, and the airfield was crowded with planes of various models. When the pilots saw Charles’ car pull in, they cheered, raising their hands to salute him.
These pilots were from the outskirts of Paris. Hearing that Charles was offering high salaries, they flocked to him through word of mouth.
Charles accepted all comers, letting Carter handle the screening process. Anyone with real piloting skills or related expertise—such as maintaining, servicing aircraft, or managing airfields—was kept on board.
Djoka, feeling a bit uneasy, pulled Charles aside and whispered, “Charles, we only have a little over two million francs in total, most of which are deposits from the motorcycle factory. Today, we’ve already spent over half a million in one go, and now we’re signing on so many pilots. This is going to be a long-term expense. Are you sure about this?”
“The pilots’ salaries aren’t our responsibility, Father!” Charles interrupted. “And neither is the club—it’s what the military needs!”
“What?” Djoka looked at Charles in confusion. “So, are you signing them on behalf of yourself or on behalf of the military?”
“Sometimes, even I’m not sure!” Charles admitted. “General Gallieni put me in charge of this, but he didn’t explain much. He only said that it might be converted for military use in the future...”
After thinking for a moment, Charles explained, “I believe his intention is to have me sign them under my name first. This keeps things confidential and prevents the Germans from discovering our preparations too soon. When it proves useful on the battlefield and meets the military’s expectations, it will be officially converted for military use!”
Djoka was somewhat disappointed. This meant the club and the pilots were tasks, not business ventures.
What he didn’t know was that the aviation club Charles had bought from Carter for 100,000 francs today would, in the future, be assessed by the military at 300,000 francs if deemed “useful” and purchased accordingly.
As for the pilots, they were never part of the business. From the beginning, they were personnel the military needed—no one could take them away.
Before long, Charles realized that this money wasn’t so easy to earn. Gallieni was notoriously tight-fisted with military funds and had a reputation for constant disputes with capitalists.
By the time Charles finished a day of signing contracts, he had recruited 137 pilots and repurchased many well-maintained planes from them, including various models: the "Dove," the "Caudron," the "Breguet," and even the German “Albatros DD.”
(Note: Before the outbreak of World War I, the Albatros DD set multiple world records within a few months and was highly popular among aviation enthusiasts.)
Charles presented his signed contracts to Gallieni, detailing which planes could be used for reconnaissance, which could carry rockets for combat, and which could serve as trainers for new cadets.
“Very good!” Gallieni said as he reviewed the report, nodding in approval. “I’m quite satisfied!”
“Well then...” Charles waved the documents in his hand. “Purchasing 21 planes cost 173,000 francs, plus the first round of pilot wages, for a total of 181,500 francs!”
Charles’ meaning was clear: where should the money be reimbursed?
And that wasn’t even counting the 100,000 francs spent on the aviation club. Was Gallieni going to reimburse the original amount now or wait to buy it back for 300,000 francs later?
Gallieni, however, casually replied, “You know, Lieutenant, the military recently purchased a batch of tanks and a large number of sidecars. Combined with recruiting many new soldiers, we’re running a significant deficit and can’t cover additional expenses right now!”
“But General!” Charles looked at the documents in his hand. “I’ve already spent the money...”
“Yes!” Gallieni said. “And I won’t let you spend it in vain. How about this—let’s consider it a loan from you to the military at an interest rate of 5%?”
Charles refused without hesitation. “That’s the lowest rate—it’s hard to even get that from a bank!”
As a forward-thinking capitalist, Charles knew how to make money work quickly and exponentially. Lending at a 10% interest rate wasn’t worth it to him, let alone 5%.
“In that case...” Gallieni said, “I might need to assign a staff officer to negotiate with you and convince you to accept this plan!”
Charles raised an eyebrow. Whoever you send won’t sway me—I’m not agreeing to this!
Unexpectedly, Gallieni closed the report, fixed his gaze on Charles, and said, “Lieutenant, you’ll carry out this task!”
Charles froze, instantly understanding Gallieni’s meaning. He was assigning Charles, the “staff officer,” to convince Charles, the “capitalist”!
He could do that?
Wasn’t this one of the reasons Gallieni conscripted him as a staff officer?
What an old fox!
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