I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France
Chapter 133 - 1 I’d Rather Not Know the Truth

Chapter 133: Chapter 1 I’d Rather Not Know the Truth

"Otherwise, what should I do, General?" Shire retorted, "I don’t want my tank to lose either, but the fact is that it has no chance of winning!"

Gallieni was stunned for a moment, then realized that this was not Shire’s fault and was beyond his control.

However, Gallieni still believed he couldn’t sit idly by, "You can try to stop it!"

"How to stop it?" Shire asked softly, then added, "If they believed in me, there wouldn’t have been the development of those other two tanks at all. They produced these two tanks precisely to defeat mine, and you are trying to convince them to trust me and abandon those two models!"

Gallieni was at a loss for words. Shire was telling the truth; to make the opponents abandon research and competition through mere words was impossible and would only be ridiculed as having ulterior motives!

He frowned and paced the room, then suddenly stood still and said, "Tell me the problems with their tanks, and I’ll put pressure on them!"

Shire shook his head, "It’s useless, General! They already see you as being in cahoots with me. In their eyes, what you say also has ’ulterior motives!’"

"We must try!" Gallieni insisted, "This concerns the outcome of a battle and the incalculable casualties of soldiers!"

Shire could only respond, "I don’t know the data of their tanks, so I don’t know what specific weaknesses they have..."

This wasn’t true. Shire didn’t need to see any data to know the weaknesses of the opponent’s tanks, but that was data from the future, and of course, Shire couldn’t say that.

"Tell me what you do know!" Gallieni interrupted Shire.

"Artillery, General!" Shire answered, "Mounting artillery on a tank is not as easy as imagined; the weight, accuracy, and exhaust issues are all unresolved, which will cause a series of fatal weaknesses!"

When Germany produced the "Model I" tank several decades later during World War II, it still only mounted two machine guns, with a 100-horsepower engine that could only run two machine guns and accommodate two people, weighing 5.4 tons in total.

Yet, the Saint Chammon tank, with only a 90-horsepower engine, had the audacity to mount a 75mm artillery piece plus four machine guns, requiring a crew of nine, with a combat weight reaching an astonishing 27 tons.

Gallieni thought it over and agreed, if it had been so easy to mount artillery on a tank, why didn’t Shire do it then? Was Shire stupid?

Then he seemed to understand the problem: others were overreaching, chasing superficial data and powerful armament while ignoring overall performance.

Though Shire’s tank lacked artillery, this was rational, correct, and combat-ready.

There was no doubt; Shire knew it, as evidenced by his numerous brilliant victories on the battlefield.

Gallieni sighed softly as he sat back in the chair; he understood Shire’s predicament.

This was the greed of the capitalists.

They could forsake everything for profit and wealth; nobody could stop them!

But sadly, the price would be paid by those soldiers fighting on the front lines!

...

When it came time for the actual bidding, the situation left Gallieni dumbfounded. Gallieni saw the data of the two tanks:

Saint Chammon: 90 horsepower, a long-barreled 75mm artillery piece, four machine guns, a crew of 9, combat weight of 27 tons, speed of 8.5 km/h.

CA-1: 61 horsepower, a short-barreled 75mm artillery piece, two machine guns, a crew of 6, combat weight of 14 tons, speed of 5 km/h.

If not for Shire’s reminder, Gallieni would have joined others in wishing for these tanks to be as heavily armed as possible, but now he knew there was definitely a problem.

However, everyone seemed to have lost their minds. Even the soldiers participating in the tests believed that such tanks were necessary, thinking they could protect them and bring victory.

The members of the House of Representatives clamored heatedly, with neither faction willing to give ground, attacking each other and analyzing every bit of data.

The final result was that each tank received an order for 400 units, priced at 21,000 francs and 12,000 francs respectively.

Contrary to his usual demeanor, Gallieni said nothing from start to finish, knowing nothing could change.

He could only exclaim inwardly: God, this is over 1.3 million francs spent on a pile of machines destined to lose the war and kill soldiers. This is madness!

But he could do nothing but watch it all unfold.

At this moment, Gallieni almost wished Shire had never told him the truth!

...

In stark contrast to Gallieni’s dejection, Brad Manor was filled with cheers.

Glasses filled with golden champagne clinked together joyously with crisp ringing sounds.

Arman raised his glass excitedly and shouted, "To Colonel Estiny! And his tank!"

Others followed suit, "To Colonel Estiny!"

The right-wing had no regrets; snatching an order from under Schneider’s nose was an unprecedented victory. These orders usually had nothing to do with them; they could only watch as contracts flew into the left-wing’s pockets.

This wasn’t just about money, but also about the resurgence of the right-wing, its influence and control over the military!

Colonel Estiny was not entirely satisfied, complaining, "The ’Saint Chammon’ is not a real tank; at most, it is just a turret, yet it sells for more than ours!"

The others feigned agreement or smiled and nodded.

"As a tank, it should be able to break through enemy lines!" Colonel Estiny continued, "At the very least, it should be able to cut through barbed wire, traverse trenches with the help of infantry, and eventually lead the troops to break the lines and encircle the enemy from behind. The ’Saint Chammon’ can’t do any of these!"

The crowd nodded in agreement but no one expressed an opinion; they didn’t even understand what Estiny was talking about.

Colonel Estiny could only turn to Francis, "Sir, what do you think?"

"That’s Schneider, Colonel!" Francis replied, "You should be proud!"

Grevy added, "The Saint Chammon has a motor-driven system that can push this several-ton monster at 8.5 km/h, while although our tank is lighter, its speed is only 5 km/h. That’s something we can’t compare to!"

"Don’t be discouraged, Colonel!" As Grevy raised his glass to Colonel Estiny, "One day, we will defeat it!"

The crowd echoed their agreement.

Colonel Estiny raised his glass in response, but couldn’t hide his disappointment.

He wished to discuss how the tank should fight on the battlefield and what role it could play in the army.

But these people talked only about money and profits and were in awe of the glaringly flawed design of the "Saint Chammon!"

They didn’t understand tanks; they were not his kind of people and could never have a common language!

Was this really what he needed?

Colonel Estiny thought of Shire... perhaps Shire was the person he was looking for!

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