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

Chapter 74: Secret Mission

The next morning brought an overcast sky. Paris, already draped in a perpetual mist, seemed even gloomier without sunlight, casting a sense of foreboding that hinted at impending rain. The city's defenses bustled with unusual activity.

Although the front lines had long since moved far from Paris, sparing the city from immediate danger, a shift in the tide of the war had left the French Parliament wary of Joffre's leadership. Many now blamed the army's staggering losses and Paris's brush with peril on Joffre's strategic missteps.

Prior to the war, France had knowledge of Germany's Schlieffen Plan. Nearly everyone knew the German main force would sweep through Belgium, flanking Paris from the north. But instead of preparing French forces to intercept the German advance, Joffre enacted "Plan 17," which placed the French main forces to the south, aiming to invade Alsace-Lorraine. This strategy essentially played into German hands, leaving France vulnerable and nearly costing Paris.

Some members of Parliament suspected that even an enemy spy couldn't have assisted the Germans more precisely: Joffre's moves aligned too perfectly with what Germany needed, despite prior knowledge of their strategy. But since Joffre had become a national hero in the media, Parliament feared that demoting him would damage public morale. So, rather than dismissing him, they reached a compromise:

Joffre would remain Supreme Commander of the French Army, but with one condition: he had to consider Gallieni's recommendations. In essence, Gallieni, though only responsible for Paris's defense, now had authority to "assist" Joffre with decisions regarding the entire French front.

As intelligence poured into Gallieni's office, a significant share came from the Antwerp fortress in Belgium:

"General, we've received word from Belgium: 'If the situation doesn't improve soon, the Belgian government will have to abandon Antwerp within three days.'"

"The British report they're unable to send reinforcements to Antwerp and hope we'll deploy our own troops."

"Another message from Belgium: the Germans have resumed shelling, with yet another fortress falling. The situation is critical."

Gallieni furrowed his brow. The Antwerp fortress held immense strategic importance for the Allies. If it fell, Belgium would no longer be able to hinder German logistics from the rear, allowing Germany to send a steady flow of munitions to the French front lines.

His first thought was of Charles. Perhaps Charles might have a solution? But the notion was soon dismissed. Charles wasn't a miracle worker, and this was a brutal siege of cannons and steel. What could Charles possibly do here?

So, when Gallieni saw Charles ascending the stairs, he only nodded briefly before returning his attention to the stack of reports.

"General," called Colonel Durand as he approached, "The Supreme Commander requests that we send someone to Antwerp for an on-site assessment and a full report."

"Handle it, then," Gallieni replied absently, his focus still fixed on the intelligence before him.

"Yes, General," Durand replied with a crisp salute, quickly heading toward the staircase. He moved briskly, not even glancing at Charles as he passed. But in a low voice, he muttered, "Come with me, Lieutenant Charles. The general has a mission for you—a classified one."

"Yes, sir," Charles answered, sensing excitement mixed with anxiety.

Could it really be a critical mission? Charles thought, his curiosity growing. Surely, it wasn't something trivial like standing guard or practicing drills.

Once they reached the ground floor, Durand led Charles straight to a car and, taking the wheel himself, sped toward their destination.

"We're heading to the airfield," Durand explained as they drove. "Your task is to fly to a place called Antwerp. We need details on the situation there: Belgian losses, the remaining fortresses, and the extent of German firepower and troop deployment. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Charles replied, his heart pounding.

He was nervous—flying into battle, heading to the front lines. It felt like everything was happening too soon. Though he wouldn't be fighting directly, there was still undeniable risk.

Durand continued, "This is a covert mission, Lieutenant. We can't let the Germans know that France is assessing Antwerp's defenses, or they'll anticipate reinforcement plans. So, you must discuss this with no one—not even the pilot. Clear?"

"Understood, sir," Charles nodded, swallowing hard, his face feeling oddly cold.

But he reassured himself, There shouldn't be much danger. If there were, General Gallieni wouldn't be sending me. Perhaps this is just a test of my capabilities.

This thought helped calm him. Still, his nerves flared up again when he remembered that he hadn't yet learned to use his revolver properly. What if he encountered danger? Or was this mission supposed to avoid enemy encounters altogether?

When they arrived at a small airstrip, Charles's stomach turned at the sight of a rickety, toy-like biplane waiting on the runway. Was he really supposed to fly to the front lines in that?

"I've never flown before, Colonel," Charles admitted, feeling his apprehension rise.

"Well, you're in luck!" Durand said, parking the car near the plane. "You're about to experience your first flight."

Charles, trying to hide his trepidation, gingerly climbed out of the car and approached the plane. Durand added reassuringly, "Don't worry, Lieutenant. We've arranged for the best pilot to take you."

The pilot, already seated in the cockpit, turned and gave Charles a toothy grin. He was a middle-aged man with a bit of stubble on his chin and a streak of engine oil on his face.

"Don't worry," the pilot called out cheerfully. "I could fly this bird to the front with my eyes closed!"

As Charles climbed into the seat, though, he caught a faint whiff of alcohol. With growing unease, he looked at the pilot. "Sir… did you have a drink?"

The pilot raised an eyebrow, holding up a small flask. "Want some? It'll help with the nerves!"

Charles: …

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