Chapter 742: Sorry, Pétain
Kobdo gave a detailed report on the speech.
Gallieni listened carefully, even repeating key parts so his aides could jot them down.
After hanging up, he looked over the notes again and again.
His expression carried a satisfied smile, though his mouth still grumbled:
"Cunning bastard… he always knows where the enemy's weakness is—and lands a fatal blow."
Moments later, he burst into laughter, waving the notes proudly at his aides.
"Ten minutes—he only needed ten minutes."
"What we couldn't accomplish in over a year… he did in ten minutes!"
"And not just that—he solved it completely. He got the cadets to think for themselves, to distinguish right from wrong."
The aides didn't fully grasp his excitement.
One of them simply reminded him:
"Minister, the Salpêtrière Hospital called to ask if you're available for surgery."
Gallieni glanced again at the speech notes, then let out a long breath—relieved, as if shedding the last of his burdens.
His tone relaxed:
"All right. Tell Dr. Boucher to prepare."
"Yes, Minister."
…
Charles didn't return to Paris after leaving the academy.
He flew straight to the front near Bichancourt.
It wasn't that he was obsessing over battlefield matters—it was because he wanted to extract Painvin.
A brilliant codebreaker was a rare strategic asset, especially in wartime.
Charles didn't want to risk anything happening to him.
But he had to think carefully.
If he personally tried to transfer Painvin, Parliament and the government—already suspicious of him—would take it as a provocation.
That would be a death sentence for Painvin.
So Charles needed a middleman.
Foch?
Not suitable.
If lawmakers found out that Painvin was working for Charles, they'd suspect Foch of being in league with him.
From that perspective, the best candidate… was Pétain.
Sometimes Charles even felt guilty toward Pétain.
He often used the man as a rhetorical punching bag.
…
At that moment, Pétain was setting up defensive positions along the Meuse near Bichancourt.
Defense was his specialty.
While Foch's forces attacked at the front, Pétain's troops followed behind, building fortifications—especially around bridges.
It was common among French generals of the time to coin slogans that captured their strategic philosophy.
Pétain's was:
"They shall not pass."
Meaning relentless defense. Hold at all costs.
Foch's was:
"Everyone fights."
Mobilize everyone—soldiers, civilians, logistics personnel—for maximum offensive force. Victory through mass mobilization.
Pétain thought that was idiotic.
Reading a telegram announcing Foch's success at Mézières, he muttered bitterly:
"If it weren't for Charles breaking through the German line first, how long would Foch have taken? How many soldiers would've died?"
Then he found himself wondering:
What would Charles' slogan be?
"They shall not win?"
"They can't stop me?"
"Armored warfare?"
A terrifying idea crossed his mind:
What if Charles attacked his defenses?
Would they hold?
Pétain didn't want to admit it… but he already knew the answer.
His fortifications weren't necessarily stronger than the Germans'—and the Germans had fallen easily before Charles' assault.
The scariest thing about Charles' tactics was that you never knew where he'd strike.
By the time you realized, it was already too late.
As Pétain stood there, deep in thought, a familiar voice called out behind him:
"General… is there anything that still gives you trouble?"
It was a subtle compliment from Charles.
Perhaps because he had only gained recognition later in life, Pétain craved acknowledgment.
It was a sensitive spot—one that shouldn't be touched lightly.
Otherwise, he'd explode into furious argument.
But upon turning and seeing Charles, he was delighted.
He embraced him and shook his hand warmly.
"No, Lieutenant General. You've already solved all the hard problems."
"Brigadier General," Charles corrected. "Without your frontal assault, the Germans might have cut me off completely."
The truth was the opposite.
When Pétain wasn't attacking, the Germans didn't dare move.
Once he did attack, Charles risked encirclement.
But Pétain didn't know that—and wouldn't have believed it even if he had.
He enjoyed Charles' flattery, shrugged, and replied:
"I mean the road ahead is clear. Your mechanized troops still function perfectly, General. They're like tour guides—escorting a sight-seeing group straight to Mézières."
He waved the telegram in his hand mockingly.
Clearly taking a jab at Foch, comparing his forces to tourists who needed guides.
Charles smiled, not commenting.
He was happy to see friction between Pétain and Foch.
"Are you here for an inspection?" Pétain asked, gesturing proudly to his riverside defenses.
"Don't worry, General. No one will get through—not even if they build river-crossing tanks like yours."
He laughed heartily.
Charles nodded in agreement.
Rubber-skirted tanks used to cross rivers were inherently unstable.
A few well-placed 75mm artillery guns could sink them easily.
"No, General," Charles replied. "I trust in your ability. That's not why I came. I want to ask for help acquiring some personnel."
"Personnel?" Pétain looked puzzled.
With Charles' current status, he could get anyone he wanted—why come through him?
Charles explained:
"I need people who can decrypt German ciphers.
You know the Germans frequently change codes.
We need more accurate and timely intelligence—especially from the navy."
He was telling the truth—but also employing strategy.
He didn't want Pétain to focus on one specific codebreaker.
"Of course," Pétain nodded. "That's a serious issue. Codebreakers can greatly aid battlefield success."
He assumed Charles wanted them for logistics.
He imagined the codebreakers might help Charles' merchant ships evade German submarines.
Charles added:
"You know Parliament and the government aren't fond of me. I can't get anyone from the Cipher Bureau directly."
Pétain immediately understood—and readily agreed.
"No problem, General. Consider it done."
"I'll bring you the people you need."
"Besides, my troops could use them too. I'd like to know where the Germans plan to strike—after all, the Meuse is long."
That last sentence was meant to reassure Charles:
Don't worry—I'll make the request under my name.
They won't suspect a thing.
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