I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start

Chapter 66: Charles's Work

Charles's role was to report directly to General Gallieni, which essentially meant delivering the latest intelligence to him. It sounded straightforward, just relaying reports, but there was more to it than met the eye.

"You need a substantial understanding of the battlefield," Colonel Fernand said, piling a thick stack of maps and a half-man-high stack of documents in front of Charles. "You're a strategist, not a messenger. A messenger only needs to read, speak, and walk. But you—you must be prepared to answer the General's questions at any moment. For instance, he might ask where a particular unit is stationed, or what's happening on the front lines."

"How am I supposed to remember all of this?" Charles asked, staring at the towering stack of paperwork.

"You don't need to memorize everything, Lieutenant," Fernand said with a raised brow. "Here's a little tip: focus on areas where there's recent activity. Stay updated on those locations, and you'll likely be able to answer whatever questions come up."

Charles found this advice logical. Since battles were constantly changing, it was improbable that the general would ask about past conflicts or unrelated areas. Taking this in, Charles gestured at the mound of documents. "So, Colonel… what exactly am I supposed to do with all this?"

The pride on Fernand's face quickly faded. He realized he might've shared his "little secret" a bit too soon.

What Charles didn't know was that his assignment had been carefully orchestrated by Gallieni. Previously, the general seldom used the lounge, only going there when he was thoroughly exhausted. But since Charles had arrived, he visited it more often, spending longer stretches of time there and occasionally asking for coffee and fruit to be brought in.

The other strategists in the operations room didn't find this unusual; they chalked it up to changes in the war. Before, with the Germans on Paris's doorstep, Gallieni had been at maximum alert. Now, with the Germans retreating and the front line shifting away, a bit of relaxation seemed reasonable. Besides, at 65 years of age, the general's health couldn't handle constant strain.

But this wasn't the true reason.

Charles, before delivering any report, prepared diligently, as Fernand had advised. He memorized the names of key locations, the general disposition of forces, and the status of nearby units. That way, he could avoid having to rummage through mountains of reports to find answers in real time.

However, Charles soon realized all his preparations were pointless.

Carrying a new telegram, Charles knocked lightly on the wooden door of the lounge. After receiving permission, he stepped in and announced, "General, the Fifth Army has advanced another three kilometers northward. They're now in the Hunar region."

The Fifth Army's harassment campaign had proven immensely effective, leading to a series of rapid breakthroughs. They had left other units trailing miles behind, creating a noticeable bulge in the line.

Major General Monnory of the Sixth Army had expressed concerns that the Fifth should halt and wait for the others, fearing that they might become surrounded.

Gallieni, still poring over the map, barely glanced up. "Hmm," he murmured, taking the report and crumpling it into a ball before tossing it aside. "What do you think?"

"Excuse me?" Charles hadn't expected the question.

"What do you think, Lieutenant?" Gallieni asked calmly, eyes fixed on the map. "Should we have the Fifth Army halt?"

Charles was momentarily stunned, staring at Gallieni.

Shouldn't he be asking me where the Fifth Army's flanks are positioned, if logistics are keeping pace, and where reinforcements are stationed?

Almost on cue, Gallieni pointed to the map and began speaking as if he were reading Charles's mind:

"The Fifth Army's left flank is covered by the Third Army, and the Eighth Army is on their right. Neither flank is advancing as quickly, but they are moving forward steadily. Last night, the Fifth received new reinforcements, so their manpower should be sufficient. A few days ago, they also captured a German supply depot, which provided them with ample food."

Charles was thoroughly baffled. Old man, are you stealing my lines?

Noting Charles's hesitation, Gallieni looked up at him. "What's wrong? Is your rank holding back your imagination, or has being a strategist dulled your mind? This isn't like you, Charles."

"General," Charles replied, "I thought these were matters for you to consider."

"Right you are, Charles!" Gallieni said, a hint of something unspoken in his gaze. "But my strategists are my assistants—they're also part of my mind. That's why I'm asking you to think."

Initially, Charles didn't quite understand, but after a moment, it dawned on him.

If Gallieni's strategists were considered part of his "mind," then Charles's analysis would effectively count as Gallieni's own thought process. If Charles solved a problem, it was as if Gallieni had solved it himself.

He's interpreting it that way?

Seeing Charles's lingering hesitation, Gallieni smirked, then leaned back. "It appears you're not cut out for thinking, Charles! In that case, I'll have you work on your military drills—they seem more suited to you. You seemed to enjoy them."

With that, he raised his head, as if ready to call for Fernand.

"No, General!" Charles interjected, stopping him.

He was already sick of marching in formation, mechanically repeating steps over and over. That drill work felt more like punishment to him. He'd only pretended to enjoy it to avoid giving Gallieni any leverage, but now it seemed that had been futile.

Seeing the discomfort on Charles's face, Gallieni's lips curved into a conspiratorial smile. He gestured at the map on the table. "Then let's see if you're suited for real thinking."

Charles sighed, resigned, and leaned over the map. After studying it for a few moments, he said, "I think we shouldn't have the Fifth Army stop, General. In fact, we should push them to move faster."

"Oh?" Gallieni's interest was piqued. He had considered maintaining the army's pace but hadn't thought of accelerating it. This boy had surprised him once again.

"Do you remember the 'special operations' concept I mentioned before?" Charles asked.

Gallieni's eyes lit up instantly. That term had been on his mind for days, an itch he couldn't quite scratch.

Observing Gallieni's excitement, Charles suddenly wondered—was all of this part of the general's plan? The drills, the special assignment, the secluded lounge… Could it all really be coincidence?