I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France
Chapter 194: Victory on the Frontline?

Chapter 194: Chapter 194: Victory on the Frontline?

The attack by Xia Fei on Cape Town had entered its fifth day.

Everything was proceeding in an orderly fashion. Five infantry divisions had gathered at the front of Cape Town, and the soldiers launched assaults on the enemy lines day and night.

Artillery preparation, charge, more artillery preparation, another charge...

During the day, there were also aircraft joining the battle, suppressing the enemy artillery, though the effects were not significant.

The reason was that the Germans had realized the threat of air superiority to their artillery. They deployed their artillery in a basin surrounded by hills while camouflaging Maxim machine guns on the high ground around the area.

As soon as any aircraft lowered its altitude to bomb or strafe the artillery positions, these concealed machine guns would immediately shoot them down with a barrage of bullets.

Realizing this, Carter strictly ordered that no machine gun aircraft were to enter the hilly areas to attack the enemy artillery. He was worried that if any machine gun aircraft were shot down and crashed, the secret of the "machine gun shooting coordinator" would be exposed.

Nothing was more important than this, Carter thought. Even if the Germans handed over the whole of Cape Town with both hands, it still wouldn’t matter!

...

It was Shire’s day off, and he sat in a car heading back to Davaz. Initially, it was raining, and then suddenly, it turned into hail. The hailstones hit the canvas roof of the car with a "da-da" sound, and some hit the windshield and the hood, making a crisp "crack" sound.

Shire couldn’t help but reach out his hand to catch some, but although they fell onto his hand, they always bounced away quickly, or they melted into small droplets before Shire could take another look.

Major Laurent, driving with one hand and operating the windshield wiper with the other, looked back and smiled, reminding him, "You wouldn’t want to taste them, including the snowflakes you might see later."

"Why?" Shire asked in confusion.

Luo Lang gave a bitter smile and answered, "You live in Davaz, so you might not understand. This is Paris. Whatever smell you sense in the air, that’s what’s in the hail!"

Shire responded with an "Oh."

In an era of great industrial development, no country could avoid pollution.

European countries were just one step ahead. They had polluted the Earth extensively, and once they completed their industrial upgrades, they vigorously promoted environmental protection to prevent latecomers from surpassing them.

The double standards and ugliness of the capitalists were everywhere, but they were adept at using propaganda tools to present themselves in a very favorable light.

...

When Shire returned home and was eating breakfast, he felt that the atmosphere was somewhat odd.

At this time, Dejoka would usually be talking incessantly about the factory’s situation over the past two days, helping Shire quickly get into the groove of the new work at the factory.

Camille should have been in the kitchen tidying up the cookware, as she was always the last to sit at the dining table, but today she was eating with Dejoka and Shire.

"What’s happening?" Shire asked curiously with a mouthful of pizza, "Is something wrong at the factory?"

"No!" Dejoka replied, "Everything is going smoothly. They’ve even produced ten prototype vehicles, and once testing is done, they can go into mass production."

The progress on the Renault Tank was rapid, thanks to Shire’s foresight, as most problems had been solved in the design phase.

Thus, it didn’t need to go through the complex and time-consuming cycles of design, prototype, testing, redesign, and prototype testing again.

"So, is it because of today’s hail?" Shire glanced out the window.

"No, Shire." Dejoka put down his fork and, ignoring Camille’s warning look, spoke with anger in his voice, "They took away your aviation squadron, didn’t they?"

Shire realized what it was about. Dejoka was upset about this.

"Where did you hear about this?" Shire asked, somewhat puzzled.

"Everyone knows," Dejoka replied, "They recognized Carter’s plane, and also Conelius’ and Luqini’s!"

Shire understood then. The planes of these three were quite recognizable:

Carter flew the "machine gun plane," which had a design of an upturned middle finger on it, earning him the nickname "The Middle Finger Carter."

Conelius was the guy who had starved for two months because he couldn’t afford to repair his plane. His plane was painted with a shark with a gaping, blood-red mouth, and he was nicknamed "Shark Connie."

Luqini was a rocket aircraft pilot who had destroyed the German artillery positions in the Battle of Ypres. Famous for his diving speed, his plane wings were painted in the blue of the French military uniform, earning him the nickname "The Blue-faced Hurricane."

Whenever these three appeared in the sky, everyone knew it was Shire’s first aviation squadron.

And Shire being on leave at home meant the first aviation squadron had been taken away by someone else.

"They said it was Xia Fei who did it!" Dejoka grumbled, "His actions are completely inconsistent with his position as the commander-in-chief. It’s a shameful act..."

"This is a normal military reassignment, father," Shire replied calmly, "The military should not belong to anyone. They are all meant for combat."

"Even so, why were you, the captain, not reassigned?" Dejoka countered, "Who more qualified than you to command the squadron? Obviously, this is to keep you out of the achievements..."

Camille interrupted Dejoka, "Are you actually hoping they’ll reassign Shire? In my opinion, this makes perfect sense—they are complying with the decision of the parliament!"

From Camille’s perspective, as long as Shire was not sent to the front lines, it was reasonable; it was a good thing.

She couldn’t understand Shire’s feelings. He had poured his heart and soul into training an aviation squadron, and now that they were combat-ready, they were reassigned with just a simple order.

Unspoken, but Dejoka’s words were clearly more in line with Shire’s expectations.

However, Shire still put on an indifferent face and said, "They said they would return the squadron. This time it is just an emergency reassignment."

Dejoka sighed, "I hope so."

But everyone knew it was likely just an excuse. Once they fully realized the value of the squadron, they would find various reasons to keep them.

What could Shire do then?

The dining table fell into silence, each person lost in their thoughts.

At that moment, Laurent’s car screeched to a halt in front of Dejoka’s home.

Shire looked out the window in confusion. Normally, Laurent wouldn’t visit at this time. If he did, it indicated an urgent situation.

Sure enough, Major Laurent jumped out of the car and rushed towards the door.

Dejoka promptly opened the door, and Major Laurent hurried inside to tell Shire, "Major, General Gallieni needs you back at headquarters immediately. They’ve achieved a victory at the front."

Shire was stunned. Xia Fei had won a victory at the front? This was good news, why the hurry?

The next second, Shire realized the reason: If Xia Fei’s tanks had managed to win, there was only one possibility, the enemy had intentionally let them in!

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