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I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 71
🕑 Added 2025-02-24 18:01:04 +0000 UTCChapter 71: The Development of the Motorcycle Factory
Charles first made a visit to the motorcycle factory, even though he knew that Djoka wasn’t there.
The motorcycle factory had become one of Charles’ major sources of income, generating approximately 20,000 francs in monthly profit. This was no small fortune, especially considering that a worker’s monthly salary was only 28 francs.
While the factory operated steadily, Charles understood that neglecting it entirely would affect the employees’ morale and enthusiasm. Even though the motorcycle factory’s potential for further growth was limited, and even though he was busy with countless other matters, Charles always made time to visit. He didn’t want the staff to feel that they were being overlooked in favor of other ventures.
When Charles appeared at the factory, the workers were first taken aback by his military uniform, then began to murmur quietly among themselves:
“Look, young master Charles came here to inspect right after returning. This shows how much he values the factory!”
“Of course! Think about all the orders from the military—they’ll keep us busy for years!”
“Let’s work hard! This is the most promising place to be!”
...
Guillaume hurried over to greet Charles. Seeing his uniform, Guillaume hesitated for a moment before asking, “Should I call you Second Lieutenant now, young master Charles?”
“Call me whatever you like, Uncle Guillaume!” Charles replied. “No matter how you address me, my respect for you will never change.”
A touch of emotion and relief appeared in Guillaume’s eyes. In that moment, he couldn’t help but think how wonderful it would be if Charles were truly his nephew.
“Is everything going well?” Charles asked casually.
“Everything’s going fine, young master!” Guillaume nodded as he led Charles deeper into the factory. As they walked, Guillaume began explaining:
“These past few days, I’ve been planning a complete reorganization of the production line.”
“The previous setup wasn’t efficient, which led to some parts being produced too quickly while others lagged behind.”
“This caused some workers to idle while others had to work overtime to keep up.”
“After the reorganization, this issue should be largely resolved. With the same equipment and workforce, we could potentially increase production by about 5%!”
Charles expressed high praise for this idea: “Uncle Guillaume, you always find ways to surprise me. With you here, I can rest easy!”
Charles knew better than to use generic phrases like “Good job” or “Well done,” which sounded too impersonal and mechanical. Sometimes, a small change in phrasing could greatly enhance the other person’s sense of appreciation, inspiring them to give 120% effort. Why not take advantage of that?
Before leaving, Charles offered another suggestion: “Uncle Guillaume, besides increasing production, I think we should also focus on innovation.”
“Absolutely!” Guillaume nodded repeatedly. “We can’t afford to stand still; otherwise, we’ll be overtaken sooner or later!”
However, after a brief hesitation, Guillaume admitted somewhat awkwardly, “But I don’t know which direction to take.”
Guillaume was an honest man who never shied away from acknowledging his shortcomings. While he excelled at innovating parts and refining designs, charting broader strategic directions wasn’t his forte.
Charles casually offered a suggestion: “We could consider battlefield needs. For instance, could we modify the sidecar motorcycle into a transport vehicle? It could deliver ammunition and food to the front lines, then bring back the wounded.”
Occasionally displaying a bit of capability was necessary. Otherwise, employees might dismiss him as a useless rich heir who knew nothing beyond throwing money around, a perception that would earn their disdain.
Guillaume’s eyes widened. “That’s a brilliant idea, young master! I… I know what to do now! My goodness, we’re bound to receive another wave of orders!”
“Be sure to consider the experience of the wounded,” Charles reminded. “That means improving the suspension system; otherwise, the vibrations could kill them on the way back.”
“Of course, young master!” Guillaume replied. “I’ll start working on the design immediately!”
As Charles prepared to leave, Guillaume called out, “It’s an honor to work for you, young master! I’m very fortunate!”
To Guillaume, nothing was more satisfying for a worker than dignity, respect, and generous compensation. He felt fulfilled and believed that this factory was worth dedicating his life to.
...
After leaving the motorcycle factory, Charles headed next door to the tractor factory.
The tractor factory had been carved out of the motorcycle factory, with some of its buildings and warehouses still shared between the two. This was because the motorcycle factory had a vast yard that was no longer in high demand.
Previously, when the motorcycles were sold for civilian use, the large yard was necessary for customer training. Every buyer needed to be trained, and individual practice areas had to be set aside to prevent accidents—two customers practicing on the same ground could easily crash into each other.
But military clients had different requirements. They preferred training their soldiers in groups. When Guillaume suggested splitting the soldiers into smaller groups for training, the military officers glared at him and shouted, “We don’t have time, old man! Besides, we’re going to face bullets and artillery on the battlefield. This kind of danger is nothing!”
In truth, the military hardly needed a dedicated training ground. Once soldiers learned the basics—how to start the engine, shift gears, operate the throttle, and use the brakes—they would immediately take the motorcycles out onto the roads and even to the front lines.
As a result, the large training ground at the motorcycle factory became redundant. Charles ordered a low wall built to enclose part of the yard and some buildings, turning it into the tractor factory.
Charles went straight to the research department, the core of the factory, where the prototype for the specialized tank, the “Mark I,” was under development.
Djoka and Joseph were there, busily working on the massive diamond-shaped steel beast. When Charles entered, they didn’t seem surprised.
“Hey, Charles!” Djoka greeted as he walked over. “I heard about it from Camille on the phone,” he explained, eyeing Charles’ uniform. “Even though we’re not thrilled about you joining the army, I must admit the uniform suits you!”
Joseph set down his tools and approached to greet him. “It’s a pleasure to see you, young master.”
“Is everything going well?” Charles asked, his gaze fixed on the “Mark I” tank.
Compared to earlier crude designs that simply bolted steel plates onto tractors, this was a purpose-built combat vehicle. Once it was unveiled, it would undoubtedly render all of Francis’ tanks obsolete.
No wonder Francis was feeling anxious and eager to retaliate.
“Everything’s going smoothly, young master,” Joseph replied with a nod. “But we’re thinking, if there’s still extra load capacity, why not add a small-caliber cannon?”
Charles shook his head lightly.
The idea of adding a cannon was tempting—historically, the “Mark I” tank did include one—but Charles wouldn’t take that route.
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