Chapter 500: Appointment of the Commander
In the meeting room of Antwerp's Century Hotel.
Amid enthusiastic applause, the Saint-Étienne Arms Factory and FN Herstal formally signed a comprehensive cooperation agreement.
Dominique and Boyata, representatives of the two parties, firmly shook hands, smiling calmly into the flashing cameras to allow journalists ample time to capture the moment.
King Albert I applauded warmly, glancing approvingly at Charless, who sat beside him. The deeper Charless's interests were entrenched in Belgium, the more reassured Albert felt. Thus, Albert had spared no effort to facilitate this partnership, even providing substantial government subsidies to FN.
Browning, however, appeared impatient. While politely clapping, he discreetly leaned towards Charless and whispered, "So, what's the solution?"
Charless smiled slightly and replied calmly, "Quite simple, Mr. Browning. Think about your shotgun—the Browning A5."
Browning paused, mouth half-open in sudden realization. A semi-automatic action, similar to the Browning A5! Why hadn't he considered it?
Indeed, the correct answer was semi-automatic operation.
When firing full-powered rifle rounds, a fully automatic weapon naturally became a machine gun. Forcing a machine gun into a role meant for a single infantryman inevitably brought significant drawbacks. Continuous automatic fire using full-powered rounds from a shoulder-fired weapon created heavy recoil, drastically reducing accuracy, making it essentially impossible to control.
A semi-automatic rifle, however, was different.
It weighed only slightly more than traditional bolt-action rifles and had a comparable standard ammunition load—about a hundred rounds. The intermittent firing allowed for greater accuracy. Crucially, every soldier could comfortably handle a semi-automatic rifle, unlike the BAR, which demanded physically robust soldiers.
Therefore, the weapon that would completely replace bolt-action rifles would be semi-automatic, not the BAR.
As for the assault rifle that would someday replace semi-automatic rifles entirely, that would require an intermediate cartridge.
Upon hearing this, Boyata couldn't help but sigh deeply, remarking ruefully, "Only three words—'semi-automatic'—and yet we nearly paid the price of an entire subsidiary for it."
"No," Browning interjected immediately, shaking his head. "It's not as simple as it appears, Jonathan. This represents an evolution in firearms design. If we hadn't grasped this concept and had begun full-scale production of the BAR—or worse, attempted to completely replace bolt-action rifles with it—do you know what might have happened?"
Boyata nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of Browning's words.
In this era, innovation was king. A successful design could revive a failing company overnight, just as a misguided idea could easily bankrupt a thriving business.
Charless's strength lay precisely in his consistently accurate vision—whether in military tactics or weaponry.
When Charless returned to headquarters, he was greeted by two excellent pieces of news.
The telegram came from Matthew. Ever since learning engine technology from the aircraft factory, Matthew had been assigned to oversee R&D at the tractor factory, with Deoka handling the business side.
"After several months of intensive effort, our engine has finally reached 250 horsepower, and there's still room for further improvement. I believe development of the new tank can now officially begin."
Charless felt deeply gratified. Previously, the Holt 75 engines produced only 83 horsepower, and even the advanced Holt 120 managed only 120 horsepower. Now, power had jumped to 250 horsepower, more than doubling the previous capacity.
Another telegram quickly followed: "Professor Fessenden has successfully developed the 'Echo Detector.' According to confidential testing, it can now accurately detect submarines at a distance of 500 meters."
Fessenden?
The "Echo Detector"?
Charless had almost forgotten about it until seeing the word "submarine," which immediately reminded him—this was sonar, submarine-detection sonar!
Without hesitating further, Charless instructed his aide to send a reply: "Tell Professor Fessenden to keep working on extending its detection range."
At that moment, Tijani approached solemnly, holding two telegrams in his hand.
Charless glanced at him, noting the seriousness of his expression. "Bad news?"
Tijani didn't respond immediately but handed over one telegram. "Congratulations," he said dryly. "You've been promoted to Major General. Your new uniform has already been dispatched and should arrive tonight."
It could be considered good news, though Charless himself didn't particularly care.
But his eyes fell upon the other telegram Tijani held—obviously bad news.
Tijani nodded grimly, unfolding it before Charless. "It's about new commander assignments and troop redeployments—the aftershocks of removing Joffre."
Charless quickly scanned the contents:
"Nivelle has been promoted to Lieutenant General, appointed commander-in-chief of the French and Allied forces."
That was no surprise; most people already knew it, aware that Nivelle had gained this position through British backing.
"Gallieni appointed Minister of War, commanding the reserve army group."
This, too, had been widely known.
"The French Ninth Army in the Northern Army Group is redeployed to Verdun. British Expeditionary Force's First Corps under Lieutenant General Evis will take over the Antwerp line."
Charless looked up in astonishment. "British Expeditionary Force's First Corps? They're moving out the French Ninth Army and bringing in British forces?"
"Yes," Tijani confirmed helplessly.
Charless's forces were already stationed at the Antwerp line, comprising aviation, armored, and mechanized units. Infantry support was essential for coordinated operations. Now the French infantry had been withdrawn and replaced by British troops.
"I have no idea what they're thinking," Tijani grumbled, furrowing his brow. "We're expected to coordinate with British troops? Our men don't even speak the same language; our equipment and ammunition aren't compatible. Don't even get me started on tactical differences."
He continued complaining bitterly:
"We'll have our work cut out for us now. First, we'll have to teach them signal flag communications…"
"And methods of cooperating with aircraft and armored units…"
Charless interrupted Tijani's litany of complaints gently, "Is that all you're concerned about?"
"What else is there?" Tijani asked, puzzled.
Charless gave a wry smile. "Think deeper, General. The British leveraged their supply resources to place Nivelle as commander-in-chief. What do you think their ultimate goal is?"
Tijani stared blankly for a moment before realization dawned on him. His eyes widened. "Glory? You mean the British are here to snatch military achievements?"
Charless nodded subtly. "Precisely. The problems you mentioned don't matter, because we won't be in command. He will."
Charless glanced again at the telegram. "Lieutenant General Evis outranks both of us; naturally, we must obey his orders."
Tijani was aghast. "So, we'll launch attacks against enemy fortifications under his command, suffer heavy casualties in achieving victory, and then watch as he claims the credit?"
"That about sums it up," Charless remarked dryly. "Though they may have other tricks up their sleeve."
The British had never hesitated to behave shamelessly, always hiding behind a veneer of gentlemanly justification.
(End of Chapter 500)
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