Chapter 189: The Mortar Wave
Instead of diving directly into the mechanics of the new mortar, Charles began by posing a question to the assembled officers. "Gentlemen, what do you think of grenades? Share your feedback with me."
The officers responded one after another:
"It's a remarkable invention, Major!"
"Grenades have filled a crucial gap in our capabilities."
"Some of my men don't even trust their rifles anymore—they're focused on perfecting their grenade throws."
Laughter broke out as the officers nodded in agreement. The frontlines had shifted into trench warfare, where rifles often couldn't reach enemies taking cover. But grenades were different; soldiers saw them as the ultimate weapon for clearing enemy trenches.
"But grenades have limitations, don't they?" Charles continued, almost as if critiquing his own creation. "When the enemy trenches are too far, we're forced to expose ourselves to enemy fire, crawling out of our trenches just to throw a grenade into theirs."
The officers voiced their agreement:
"Exactly!"
"You're absolutely right!"
"We often wait until nightfall to make such moves—it's safer then."
Charles gestured to the mortar on the podium and said, "Gentlemen, if you stop thinking of this as a cannon and start thinking of it as a tool for throwing grenades, then you'll see its true purpose."
A collective murmur of realization spread through the room, followed by a burst of applause. Some of the officers called out:
"So, we can hit the Germans without leaving our trench?"
"Yes! They can't reach us, but we can lob explosives into their trenches!"
"The 75mm cannon can't do this—it can't 'lob' shells into a trench."
Colonel Christine had already discerned the mortar's potential and waited for the applause to die down before asking, "Major, can you tell us its maximum range?"
"Seven hundred meters," Charles replied.
The officers gasped; this range could cover nearly every enemy trench within sight. Charles added, "And it can fire up to twenty-five rounds a minute."
The room fell silent as the officers, particularly the artillerymen, absorbed this information. The 75mm field gun had a theoretical maximum rate of thirty rounds per minute but often overheated after firing more than fifteen shells in quick succession. This seemingly simple tube before them, however, could deliver twenty-five rounds without such limitations.
Twenty-five rounds a minute was effectively like throwing twenty-five grenades into the enemy's trenches every minute, and the enemy had no comparable weapon. This kind of advantage would change the balance of power in the trenches—a fact not lost on the battle-hardened officers.
Christine's expression shifted as he sat in contemplation, his mind racing through the implications. He had been sent here on a special mission. The day before he departed, Deputy Commander Carnes had approached him and said:
"We hear that Charles's training is centered around a new artillery piece. No weapon surpasses the 75mm cannon—understand? If it does, it didn't come from Charles."
Christine's response was firm: "Understood, General."
He knew this was an order to protect the interests of the 75mm cannon, which General Joffre and Schneider had a vested interest in maintaining as the cornerstone of the French artillery. Schneider, the powerhouse of cannon production, saw any new artillery venture as a direct challenge.
Christine had no desire to become entangled in political or industrial rivalries, but he couldn't ignore Carnes's words: "No weapon surpasses the 75mm cannon." Until the mortar was brought in, he had dismissed Charles's new artillery piece as overly ambitious.
Artillery was far from simple; Schneider held the patent for the hydraulic recoil system, an essential technology for advanced field guns. What else could Charles possibly create?
Yet here it was, the mortar—brilliantly simple, and with a purpose distinct from the 75mm cannon.
Glancing around the room, Christine saw other officers deep in thought, all equally shaken by Charles's innovation. To his left sat Colonel Denis, a staunch advocate of the "offensive doctrine." Before arriving, Denis had been skeptical of any new artillery's utility. He believed the 75mm cannon was the only piece capable of supporting his aggressive tactics, and he'd arrived with a strong bias against Charles's mortar.
Meanwhile, at the back of the room, Colonel Honoré, a disciple of Pétain's "defensive doctrine," quietly took it all in. Honoré's faction had argued for replacing the 75mm cannon with the longer-ranged 105mm howitzer. Before the meeting, he had even boasted, "Unless Charles brings out a Big Bertha, this thing will go straight to the trash."
Now, Honoré was speechless.
Christine couldn't help but feel a sense of irony. Here in this small conference room, eighty-eight officers—each representing a faction within the army—had gathered, bringing with them conflicting theories and strategies. If they had one thing in common, it was a shared disdain for Charles's invention, at least initially.
This was also why they had heckled the instructor. The mortar, they thought, was laughable.
But as Charles laid out the mortar's specs, the underlying tactical shift began to dawn on them like a crashing wave that swept aside their divisions and theoretical differences. All the officers began to think the same thing: This weapon could save countless lives—their own lives among them.
Rejecting this weapon would be foolhardy, even deadly. Moreover, it was inevitable that the mortar would eventually become a staple, just like the grenade. Any officer who continued to reject it might one day find himself despised by his own troops for keeping such a valuable tool from them.
At the front of the room, Christine's face hardened with determination. He rose and addressed Charles, saying, "Major, I would very much like to take this mortar to the firing range and test it out. Would you join us?"
"Of course," Charles replied, nodding toward the instructor on stage.
The instructor's face lit up as he called out to the group, "Follow me, gentlemen! But remember—every step must be taken as I instruct."
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