Charles spent the day at home, not going anywhere. He slept, read, and then went back to sleep again whenever he felt tired. Even lunch was at Camille's insistence, and he only came downstairs after being called. For that one day, he abandoned all thoughts of politics, business, and the intense battles of war.
Only then did he realize that the quiet life he once thought was dull might actually be the best kind of life.
That evening, Deyoka returned from the factory and joined them at the table. As he sat down, he commented offhandedly, "Count Spee went down with his ship in the end. Admirable."
"Count Spee?" Charles asked. "The Scharnhorst?" ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ NovᴇlFɪre.ɴet
"You haven't heard?" Deyoka looked surprised; usually, Charles was the first to learn about military news.
A moment later, he realized why: Charles had spent the entire day at home, completely disconnected from the outside world.
"It happened this morning," Deyoka explained. "I'm not sure of the exact time, but almost all of Spee's fleet was wiped out. Only an auxiliary ship and a light cruiser managed to escape."
Despite Spee's fleet being an enemy, defeated by their British allies, Deyoka's tone was regretful.
Charles merely nodded, saying nothing. This was the flaw of naval battles in that era: slower ships had almost no chance of escape. When Count Spee decided to attack the Falkland Islands, he must have known this.
However, withdrawing after an unsuccessful strike had only made things worse. If he had to retreat, leaving one or two ships to cover the main fleet and block the British fleet's route would have been wiser. Instead, his ships were sunk one by one by faster battlecruisers with no real hope of escape.
The next day, Charles returned to his post in Paris as usual. As soon as he entered the second-floor command office, the staff broke into cheers:
"Salute to Colonel Charles!"
Colonel Fernand even stood at attention, offering Charles a respectful salute and, half-jokingly, said, "Colonel, it's about time I no longer had to call you 'Sir'!"
Being a lieutenant colonel taking orders from a major was a bit odd; now, with Charles promoted to colonel, this issue was finally resolved.
Charles looked at Gallieni, puzzled. He could understand being promoted from second lieutenant to major, since he was still a junior officer. But a promotion from major directly to colonel was unheard of.
Pétain, after all, hadn't become a colonel until he was fifty-eight; Charles was only seventeen.
Gallieni seemed to understand what Charles was thinking. He handed him the promotion papers with a meaningful smile. "This is well-deserved, Colonel. You saved over 30,000 men; I doubt anyone would disagree. Besides, consider this an early coming-of-age gift."
Charles froze for a moment, immediately catching Gallieni's implication.
Once Charles came of age, he would no longer be restricted from the battlefield. In the French army, even celebrated leaders like Foch had to lead from the front lines, and Charles would be no exception.
Gallieni had been promoting Charles quickly not only because of his achievements but with clear intent. If Charles ever had to go to the battlefield, holding the rank of colonel would give him greater resources.
Charles mentally weighed his allies in the parliament: Steed's Republicans and Welles's Radical Socialists, against Schneider's Socialists and the right-wing bloc. Even so, they were still at a disadvantage, with the parliament being a web of interwoven parties.
It looked like overturning the situation before he came of age would be a stretch.
"There's more good news!" Gallieni said with a nod to Charles. "How much are you planning to sell your Charles A1 tank for?"
Charles had thought about this and answered without hesitation, "30,000 francs, General."
This time, Charles had learned his lesson. With the Saint-Chamond tank priced at 21,000 francs, the Charles A1—a tank that could win battles—was easily worth more.
Gallieni raised his eyebrows slightly and murmured in agreement. Uncharacteristically, he did not try to negotiate the price down.
After a moment, Gallieni asked, "If we purchase a certain number of Charles A1 tanks, do you think we could break through the enemy's defenses altogether?"
Charles instantly understood Gallieni's intent.
Although Charles's victories had contributed significantly to their front, overall, both sides were still locked in a stalemate. Gallieni seemed to be considering using the Charles A1 to shift the balance.
Charles, however, shook his head. "I don't believe so, General. The Charles A1 tank is still only effective for short-range breakthroughs. It's prone to track issues and other breakdowns, and the enemy could use simple measures to block its advance."
"What kind of measures?" Gallieni asked, puzzled.
Charles leaned closer and answered in a low voice, "They'd only need to dig the trenches a bit wider."
Gallieni nodded in understanding. It was indeed a "simple measure."
In truth, Charles had left out further details. The Germans, he knew, could take more drastic steps, like digging an anti-tank trench—a deeper, wider trench with barbed wire and mines in front of their positions. This would render the tanks virtually useless.
Of course, Charles wasn't about to volunteer this information; it would be as foolish as the British developing torpedo boats while already holding the world's largest battleship fleet.
If the Germans figured this out on their own someday, Charles could only accept it.
"Understood," Gallieni said, showing some frustration. "Well, the army has decided to order five hundred tanks."
Charles was stunned by the number. Five hundred tanks meant 15 million francs—a massive contract!
Then again, considering the historical context, it wasn't surprising. This model had sold more than three thousand units in just a year; this was only the beginning.
Gallieni handed Charles another document and added, "Several other countries have also expressed interest. They've approached the government about buying the Charles A1 tank, including the United States. I think you should make time to discuss this with them."
"Yes, General!" Charles responded.
As he glanced over the document, he understood why Gallieni hadn't haggled over the price. With so many countries vying for it—and with large orders, at that—even the U.S. had expressed interest in obtaining a production license. If Gallieni had bargained, Charles could have easily reduced the supply, knowing that demand was high.
Charles mused to himself: When there's competition, things change. Next time, I should try to create this kind of demand—perhaps even hire a few "insiders" to help stir up the market.
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