I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France
Chapter 184: After modification - 184 Training Camp

Chapter 184: After modification: Chapter 184 Training Camp

Shire easily won the public opinion battle.

After discovering that they were almost utilized by the capitalists, the citizens developed a rebellious mindset. The workers initiated a massive strike, gathering at Schneider Headquarters and Francis Tractor Factory gates, waving national flags in protest, and even organizing demonstrations and parades.

More people supported Shire through their actions. They canceled their orders for Francis’ "Holt 120" and insisted on purchasing Shire’s "Holt 75", even knowing that Shire’s tractors were more outdated.

There was a popular saying among the people:

"Do you plan to buy the ’Holt 120’? It’s your freedom, but if Shire’s factory cannot survive as a result, just wait, the price of ’Holt 120’ will soon double or even more!"

"Shire’s factory is the reason for the capitalists lowering their prices, we cannot let this reason be buried by them!"

"We are acquainted with the capitalists’ methods, many of us have been swallowed up by them. Do you want Shire’s factory to follow the same path?"

...

Thus, Shire’s "Holt 75" did not fall into poor sales but sold better and better, even facing a supply shortage.

This surprised Shire a bit. He had actually prepared for and did not care about the tractor factory’s small losses. From the beginning, he bought the tractor factory for tanks, with tractors only being an incidental product to subsidize the tank development funds.

But this was good too; who doesn’t want to make more money? Especially since Shire was a capitalist.

...

Adjacent to the 4th district, in the 12th district of Paris, near the Bastille Prison, there was a police training base. Many police officers took up their posts here after completing basic firearms, fitness, and other trainings.

However, on this day, the training base welcomed a group of unusual trainees. They were not police but soldiers, to be precise, military officers.

Most were Majors and Lieutenant Colonels, and there were also a few Colonels.

They came from the front lines of 44 divisions, each division sending two officers, one artillery and one infantry.

On the third floor of the training base building, there was a stepped conference room that could hold more than a hundred people. It was used as a classroom for training officers.

Dominic felt a bit nervous facing these trainees. Although his rank was Colonel, as a test shooter, he had never been on the battlefield.

When Dominic saw these fierce-looking officers with scars on their faces, he was almost intimidated by their presence.

One of them, named Colonel Kristen, was a battle hero. Although the first Special Artillery Regiment he led did not win in the Lafox battle, it did not affect his prestige in the army at all.

"Hi... hello, gentlemen!" Dominic stood tremblingly on the podium, introducing himself: "My name is Dominic, I am your chief instructor, and in the next week, I will teach you... how to use mortars!"

Colonel Kristen cast a puzzled glance at Dominic and politely asked: "Excuse me, Colonel Dominic, isn’t this training organized by Shire?"

"Yes, of course!" Dominic answered nervously: "But you know, Shire is very busy, he only handles the tactical lectures. As for the use of mortars..."

"Hey, Colonel!" An officer interrupted Dominic, his tone clearly disdainful: "Have you been on the battlefield?"

This hit the nail on the head. Everyone could tell that this chubby chief instructor was someone outside of the battlefield, possibly of noble or capitalist background, otherwise, he couldn’t have such a high rank.

Dominic hesitated a moment, then answered honestly: "No, I haven’t! But I..."

"Then why do you think you can teach us how to use weapons?" Another officer interrupted Dominic.

Before Dominic could respond, yet another officer asked: "Do you know the battlefield better than us? Or do you know what we need?"

The classroom erupted in laughter, the officers treating this training as a farce.

At this moment, a young man wearing a Major’s uniform walked in from outside, he closed his umbrella, and two guards immediately stood by the door, while another Major respectfully took the umbrella from the young man’s hand.

The young man scanned the conference room with sharp eyes and said calmly: "Sorry, I’m late!"

The conference room instantly fell silent.

Most of the officers had never seen Shire nor recognized him... although the newspaper published Shire’s photo, it only vaguely showed his outline, without distinguishing face and features.

However, the officers still knew that the young man in front of them was Shire.

Currently, in France, there’s no one this young who could be a Major, most people of this age are just Privates... no, likely they haven’t even served yet.

Like Dominic, Shire was well-maintained. He, too, had never been on the battlefield, and his uniform was spotless and new, but no one dared to underestimate him.

"Nice to meet you all!" Shire graciously nodded to everyone, then turned to the podium where Dominic was awkwardly standing, not knowing what to do.

Looking at the officers’ faces full of disdain, Shire seemed to understand something.

"Here’s the deal." Shire swept his gaze across the room, his tone relaxed: "I should first emphasize that this training is voluntary, anyone unwilling to participate can freely opt out!"

"Is that sincere?" an officer asked.

These officers had just come from the front lines and weren’t afraid to ask tough questions.

"Of course!" Shire smiled and nodded: "I will even give you an explanation so you won’t have to worry about reporting to your superiors!"

"Can we see the artillery?" Some officers showed curiosity: "After seeing the artillery, we’ll roughly know if this training is meaningful!"

This statement immediately resonated with the officers.

Shire nodded toward the instructor.

The instructor understood, he quickly went out to call for help. Soon, several instructors came in carrying some parts, they assembled the mortar on the podium in no time.

Seeing the artillery, the officers began to talk:

"Just such a small cannon?"

"I thought it was a better artillery than the 75 cannon, but it looks like a child’s toy."

"Can’t believe we need to learn to use this thing."

...

However, Colonel Kristen’s eyes showed a serious look, he unexpectedly glanced at Shire, feeling weird. Shire had never been on the battlefield, why did he understand the battlefield so well? Why did he know what front-line soldiers need?

Shire spoke, his tone even expectant: "Now, those who don’t need it can leave, please!"

Everyone turned their gaze to Colonel Kristen.

Colonel Kristen shook his head firmly: "No, Sir. We need this artillery!"

Shire shook his head regretfully, "Damn, can’t fool you."

"Honestly," Shire spread his hands: "The production of this artillery is insufficient to equip the frontline troops, I really hoped some of you would quit, but..."

The officers laughed, those who had intended to quit secretly rejoiced for not making such an impetuous decision.

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